This chapter is a tiny bit short (OK, maybe just plain short). Sorry to keep you folks waiting.
To my reviewers:
Love Psychedelicio: I am afraid that Gavner dying was unavoidable. What happened to your Kurda Smahlt C2 anyway? I kinda liked it.
Love Psychedelicio: Well, it is all a matter of opinion...
Banjo: Actually, it's Gavner Purl (you spelt it wrong). Sorry, that was random.
lordofthecrimsonnight: At least someone understands what I'm getting at.
lioness of darkness: Wrong place, wrong time. Maybe that doesn't work... oh well. And yes, the anagram is correct.
The Freaky Butt Mate: Do you have to glomp someone every time? It probably kinda hurts. Experts indeed. Yes, I know.
Missing Whisper: Cliffhangers... the author's greatest weapon.
Obsessed (goddess.of.dead. I think that the mistakes you see in other stories are the results of not using spellcheck. May that be a lesson to you all! Thanks for your comment anyway.
Mint: Yes, I know it was. Yes, I will.
Part. 2 – Never Meddle with the Universe
Chapter 4. A Thief in the Night
(Three years later)
Kurda Smahlt sat on his throne, looking at the roof of the Hall of Princes. Vampaneze Mountain had been attacked for the umpteenth time by the Vampire Rebels. Not one vampire had joined Kurda's side, alongside the vampaneze. Ah well, Kurda had thought. Vampire honour. Figures.
There were still 5 thrones, but only Kurda and another Vampaneze, Repan Glurv, occupied them. They controlled the forces that tracked down vampires, fought them, and tried to let the other vampires see the logic of Kurda's plan. But they were blinded by their unblinking honour, their ignorance, and their inflexibility. Kurda knew that because he had taken over Vampire Mountain (now Vampaneze Mountain), Desmond Tiny's future had been averted.
His thoughts were interrupted when a Vampaneze General entered the Hall. Kurda recognized him as the was-to-be Vampaneze Lord, Steve Leonard. Nobody liked him, not really; he was too sharp, too edgy, and too livid. But he was still a loyal worker to Repan. However, Kurda wondered if Steve actually did respect him. He doubted it.
He stopped before Kurda, stopped and bowed, then read from the sheet of paper the latest updates of the Rebellion. The vampaneze and Kurda called it the Vampire Rebellion; apparently, the vampires called it the War of Fury, and also the Destruction of the Traitors. Kurda was a pacifist, and was quite shocked at what the vampires could urge themselves to do. Most of all, he couldn't believe that Paris, Arrow, Mika, and Vancha could command their troops so relentlessly.
"Our troops are stamping out some of the minor bases, Sire." said Steve, staring at Kurda. His eyes were burning, which Kurda read as the yearning to get out there and kill the vampires. "We have already successfully destroyed at least forty-five Vampire Bases. But we still cannot locate the Vampire Fort." The Vampire Fort was where the main base was, supposedly, but the vampaneze could still not locate it.
Steve was about to leave, when Kurda stopped him.
"Steve," Kurda asked softly. "You are happy that the vampaneze are rulers of this mountain, that you enjoy more privileges than your unfortunate brethren. But what about me, a vampire among vampaneze? Do you think I should be here, sharing your fruits of success? Do you resent me?"
Steve turned, and glared at Kurda for a few moments, then answered.
"If I had had my way, sire," said Steve hatefully. "You would not be here by now. I would have driven a stake through your heart, whether you helped us or not." He then walked off, before Kurda could reply.
Kurda was left alone, brooding over what had Steve had just stated. His brows furrowed, in worry, but also in confusion. It had been he, Kurda that had helped take the Mountain. It had been he that had helped plan the tactics to crush the rebellion, and it had worked flawlessly (the Battle of the Crimson Field). And it had also been he that had promoted Steve to rank of General, and to let him commandeer his own squad. So why hate him so much? Kurda could not understand.
Soon, he left the Hall, leaving it empty and desolate. Or so it seemed.
Nobody saw the small figure emerge from the shadows of the seats surrounding the Hall. Silently, the figure moved across the floor, and came up to the Stone of Blood, which the vampaneze had kept in its original position. He put on his thick gloves, and slowly picked it up. It was heavier, much heavier, than it looked. But the figure, considering his size, was strong, and he quickly stalked out the way he had come: a hole, too small for an adult to crawl through. The figure pushed the Stone through, and then followed it outside. Seeing no one, he slipped through some of the more unknown tunnels, and arrived outside.
He broke into a run, running along the path that curled around Vampaneze Mountain. Until he was deep into the forest, he didn't stop. After ten minutes, however, he suddenly collapsed on the spot, and tried to regain his breath.
The Stone glowed bright red in the night, and it illuminated the face of the young thief.
Darren Shan grinned to himself.
Wicked.
