The Saga of Darren Shan Fanfiction
Written by: Soca
Disclaimer: The Saga of Darren Shan © Darren O'Shaughnessy.
Full Summary: When Darren has an opportunity to retrieve a valuable elixir, he jumps at the chance of adventure, taking a reluctant Mr. Crepsley along with him. But what the young vampire does not realise is that the trip will prove more dangerous than he thought. He will need cunningness and luck on his side. New fears arise as Darren starts to question his relationships with others and his ability to be a Prince, while searching for the faith lost within. In a world where not all is as it appears, can the luck of the vampire gods' hold true?
(Written to take place after book 6, 'The Vampire Prince', of the Darren Shan saga).
Author's Note: This fanfiction does not, in any way, interfere with the continuing novels of the Darren Shan saga. If any spoilers are written these would have occurred in novels 1 to 6.
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The Death Walked Trail
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Chapter 02: The Mountain Pass
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To say he was regarded as 'royal' was definitely an understatement, Darren thought, because he sure as hell didn't feel like royalty when they were walking around such a dump. Honestly, how was he supposed to know where he was going when it was pitch –
"Watch your footing," Mr. Crepsley warned, two seconds too late. Darren slipped and promptly fell face-first into the muddy ground.
Splash!
Okay. That wasn't mud, he realised.
"Urgh!" Darren lifted his head and coughed out a mouthful of water. Swamp water, he noted, spitting out as much as the foul-tasting stuff as he could. Mr. Crepsley slapped him on the back as he gasped, "Where did …" – cough, slap – "this swamp come from?"
In front of them, Harkat shrugged in the darkness. "From what I can see there are … a few around here." Addressing Darren, he amusingly added, "Trust you … to fall into one, though."
"Some of us don't have glow-in-the-dark eyes like you, Harkat." Darren stood up, slipped on the tiny bank, and regained his balance just as Mr. Crepsley automatically reached out to him. "I'm okay," he said, lifting a hand to ward the old vampire off. Apart from my stinking pride.
Harkat's large green eyes lifted at the corners. Or Darren thought they did; he could barely see a thing. "I think you're confusing me with … someone else."
Yeah, a cat, Darren thought.
"Perhaps we should stop for tonight," Mr. Crepsley regarded.
"We can't," Darren said. "You won't be able to travel by day."
"I feel we are not getting very far travelling by night," Mr. Crepsley replied as he took in their surroundings. "There are more obstacles that cannot be seen, even to our eyes." He gestured to the swamp to emphasise this.
"But if we travel by day you'll be exposing yourself to sunlight," Darren argued. "We shouldn't take that risk if we don't have to."
"If we keep travelling through this ..." Mr. Crepsley searched for a word to describe their location. After a minute he shook his head and continued. "You may not be so lucky if you slip and fall again. We should stop for tonight and revise our plan. Does this sound fair?"
Darren opened his mouth to protest. Mr. Crepsley gave him a warning look that said his proposal was not up for debate.
Darren sighed. He nodded reluctantly and muttered, "Okay."
"Let us go and see if we can find a place to rest," Mr. Crepsley said. He patted Darren encouragingly on the back, causing his young assistant to lose his footing and end up face-down in the murky water again.
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"I suspect that this trip is not … going as you expected."
Darren looked angrily at Harkat. "What gave you that idea?"
Harkat chuckled. He was finding joy in Darren's growing misery. "It was not my fault you fell … into the swamp the second time around."
"I didn't fall in," Darren mumbled, holding Mr. Crepsley's cloak tighter around himself. He was freezing. "I just lost my balance." He sighed. "It's weird. Like all my outdoor instincts have faded from being inside Vampire Mountain so long – I can't shake the feeling off."
"We've only been travelling for a week," Harkat pointed out. "You will … soon grow accustomed to being outside … as before. The time spent … in Vampire Mountain grew longer than … you first anticipated."
"I didn't expect to become a Prince, that's why," Darren said. "But after what I went through to become a Prince I should have tons of energy."
A grin spread across Harkat's stitched-together face. "It is true that you do not … seem to be brimming with … royal qualities."
"Shut up!" Darren clutched Mr. Crepsley's cloak and threw it at Harkat, the bright material narrowly missing the fire beside him as it landed on the Little Person's head. Harkat's muffled laugh continued to mock him from beneath.
Mr. Crepsley entered the clearing just as Darren snatched the cloak back. "I did not give you that to play with, Darren," the vampire said disapprovingly.
"I wasn't playing with it." Darren lifted the cloak toward Mr. Crepsley. "Here, I don't need it anymore. Thanks."
Mr. Crepsley said nothing as he took his cloak back from Darren's shaking fingers. He wrapped it loosely around his shoulders and sat down. Reaching forward, he grabbed a twig that the fire had yet to claim and began drawing on a dry patch of ground.
Darren and Harkat watched him closely.
"It appears that this dampened forest goes on quite a stretch," he said, drawing heavy grooves into the mud. "I flitted continually for a while, and if we continue east I feel we should get to our destination in a couple of weeks, perhaps a bit longer. If the elixir is where your paper claims it to be, then we will have to cross a mountain pass to get to it, until we reach a small town." Mr. Crepsley drew a line over the triangle shape he had dug into the ground.
"How do you know that?" Darren asked.
Mr. Crepsley smiled. Darren could almost see a lifetime of adventures appearing and disappearing across his mentor's face. "I have seen a lot of things in my years of living; things which have involved travelling to many places."
"Have you been to this place before?" Darren pointed at the markings Mr. Crepsley had drawn.
His mentor nodded. "If it is the place we are heading, then yes, once. Though I am sure it would have changed considerably since I was last present."
"Changed how?"
"I do not know." Mr. Crepsley threw the twig back into the fire. "I have not been there for over a hundred years now."
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"Harkat, are you asleep?"
Harkat's eyes flickered only briefly in the moonlight. The Little Person had been asleep, although he shook his head when he heard Darren's voice. "No. I find it hard to sleep … in this location."
"You looked like you were asleep," Darren observed, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Mr. Crepsley. They had decided to rest for a few hours and then revise their plan.
Harkat chuckled softly. "You would not be able … to tell either way. Is there … something wrong?"
Darren shook his head. Unsure if Harkat could actually see him in the darkness, he added quickly, "No, it doesn't matter. Sorry I woke you."
The forest grew quiet again. A bird cried in the distance.
"… having doubts?"
"What?" Darren asked the Little Person.
"Are you having doubts?" Harkat repeated.
"About what?"
"Nothing," Harkat answered quietly. "I've forgotten what it was … I must be sleep talking or … something. Go back to sleep … before Mr. Crepsley wakes up."
Darren did not probe him further, and when his breathing grew slow and steady, Harkat remained wide awake. The Little Person's feet shuffled and squished on the muddy ground. He leaned against a tree and smiled his crooked grin. "You're not asleep, are you?" he spoke quietly into the night.
"No," replied Mr. Crepsley, his voice muffled by his cloak wrapped tightly around him.
"Did you hear that?"
"I did," Mr. Crepsley answered.
"I did not mean mine and … Darren's conversation," Harkat stated.
"I am aware of what you meant," Mr. Crepsley said.
In the far distance, the faint sound of a twig snapping caught their ears.
The unspoken hovered between Mr. Crepsley and Harkat.
They were being watched.
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Their watcher was a vampaneze: tall, wide-built, ugly, prepared to kill. The knife he held in his hand glinted once in the darkness as it reflected briefly off the moonlight. His upper lip peeled backwards over his teeth in a twisted snarl.
He couldn't have been more fortunate – two vampires travelling alone with one companion, a Little Person. He had heard of the Little People but from his knowledge knew they did not pose much of a threat. This one seemed harmless – he had been tailing them for a while now. If he treaded carefully and waited for his moment he could take all three travellers out in one swoop.
He licked his lips hungrily. This would be an easy, even pleasurable, kill.
Clutching his knife close, the vampaneze moved forward.
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Darren had barely drifted into a comfortable sleep when something – someone – shook him awake. He groaned and pushed the person away; his hand slapping against someone else's. The other hand clasped his, preventing him from striking out again.
"Darren!" Mr. Crepsley's voice entered his sub-consciousness; whispered but urgent. "Get up this minute!"
Darren lifted himself up and opened his eyes. He looked at his mentor, slightly annoyed. "Wha –?!"
Mr. Crepsley clamped a hand over Darren's mouth before the boy barely snapped out his question. "You would be wise to keep quiet," he said. "We are being watched."
Darren stiffened. His senses went on high alert. He looked at Mr. Crepsley and nodded.
Mr. Crepsley kept his hand where it was. He lowered his voice to no more than a whisper. Darren could feel his mentor's breath on his ear when he spoke. "It is a vampaneze. I do not think he has heard us yet, but he knows we are here." In a warning, he added, "Do not speak and listen to what I say." Gently, he removed his hand. "It is inevitable he will try to ambush us. Remain where you are and pretend to sleep. Harkat is doing the same. I will soon take care of him. Understand?"
Darren did, but he wanted to object. He could easily help take a vampaneze down. He nodded stiffly.
"Good." Mr. Crepsley removed his cloak and placed it over their supplies, hiding Darren's backpack beneath it. In near complete darkness it could easily be mistaken for a sleeping person. Mr. Crepsley stepped over the bundle and disappeared into the surrounding area, engulfed by darkness.
Darren waited. He could see Harkat a few feet away, barely moving. The Little Person appeared dead – sat leant against a tree, his huge eyes wide open, lifeless-looking – let alone asleep.
Ten or more minutes passed and nothing happened. Then Darren heard it, not to mention smelt it.
A rustling sound that was unmistakably not Mr. Crepsley, followed by the foul odour. Darren felt his muscles tense but remained still, keeping his breathing slow and deliberate.
The rustling grew louder, but the person responsible for the noise was treading carefully. If they were asleep it would have been impossible to hear.
The footsteps shuffled closer. Darren instantly knew the vampaneze was behind him. He could hear the faint sound of their attacker's breathing, coming in short and raspy gasps. He contemplated throwing something at his attacker – himself, even – to catch him off guard. But he knew it wouldn't be wise if the vampaneze was holding a weapon. Besides, Mr. Crepsley would kill him if he tried something like that.
So he waited, irately thinking, I might as well have 'Live Bait' tattooed to my forehead.
The vampaneze knelt quietly behind him. Darren's breathing abruptly came to a halt.
Where was Mr. Crepsley? Why hadn't he attacked yet?
Darren heard something slide between the vampaneze's fingers; a weapon, he knew. He barely had time to register this fact when the vampaneze growled loudly, triumphantly. The weapon suddenly whistled through the air as it descended. Darren rolled out of the way as the object missed his chest. He felt the sharp edge of a blade slide down his left shoulder, cutting into his skin. He cried out. Nearby he heard Harkat jump to his feet.
Their attacker cursed. In the darkness Darren could see his mouth curled into an evil snarl, teeth glinting.
The vampaneze lifted his knife a second time but did not have the chance to act out his intentions.
Mr. Crepsley appeared from the darkness and threw himself at the vampaneze. They hit the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. The vampaneze pinned Mr. Crepsley down, snarling and spitting angrily. Mr. Crepsley grunted and jammed his knee into the vampaneze's fleshy stomach, winding him, and wrestled the knife from his hands. In one deft movement he clutched the vampaneze by the back of his thick neck, nails digging hard into the purple skin, drawing blood. The vampaneze barely had the chance to cry out as Mr. Crepsley dragged the knife across his throat in one swift attack.
The vampaneze stiffened. His wide, lifeless eyes looked up, seemingly registering Mr. Crepsley in stunned disbelief. Then he fell forward, his face buried in the mud.
A moment of silence followed, broken by a raspy breath from Harkat.
Mr. Crepsley looked at the knife in his hands and threw it down in disgust. He sighed and turned to Darren. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Darren nodded, clutching his shoulder as he looked at the dead vampaneze in front of him. The guy was enormous.
"You're wounded," Harkat said, pointing at Darren's shoulder.
Darren looked. Blood oozed out of the cut, dripping between his fingers, staining his shirt. Perfect, he thought exasperatingly, gritting his teeth.
Mr. Crepsley cursed quietly. He knelt down next to Darren and grabbed his arm. Darren winced as hot pain travelled down his shoulder to his fingertips. "I had not realised," Mr. Crepsley said ruefully.
Darren stared at him, shocked. "You didn't hear me shout?"
"I did," Mr. Crepsley replied. "But his back was to me. I thought he had hit you."
"Well you left it pretty late to attack!"
"I had to. Otherwise you or Harkat could have been left much worse."
Darren glowered. "I could have attacked him myself."
"And then what?" Mr. Crepsley asked. "Look at him. He is much bigger than the usual vampaneze we have encountered before."
"Harkat could have attacked him too."
"A scuffle worth avoiding," Mr. Crepsley said, shaking his head. "Harkat, please pass me that backpack."
As Harkat collected their things, Darren asked, "Why didn't we all attack him? Do you think I'm not strong enough?"
"You are plenty strong enough," Mr. Crepsley assured him. "But like I said; it is a scuffle worth avoiding."
"Well this could have been avoided too," Darren muttered, gesturing to the dripping wound on his shoulder. Damn it hurt. He felt annoyed with Mr. Crepsley but knew it was pointless picking an argument with him.
"My apologies," Mr. Crepsley said, his voice sincere, and left it at that.
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"Do you think we'll be attacked again?" Darren asked. He reached out and grabbed a tree for support as his foot slipped on the damp ground.
Mr. Crepsley rubbed the scar on his cheek before replying. "I have no doubt about it. I am too cautious to think of this as a mere coincidence."
"We should have kept him alive for information," Darren said. He mentally kicked himself for not having thought of it at the time.
Mr. Crepsley shook his head. "He would not have talked. The vampaneze would never reveal their own, as we would not ours. However if we are attacked again, as I feel this might happen, we will be able to persuade the vampaneze into talking then."
Persuade, Darren mused. Don't you mean 'torture'?
Darren's shoulder throbbed painfully as they continued their journey, putting more distance between themselves and the dead vampaneze. He said nothing to his companions but saw Harkat's green eyes glancing in his direction whenever he tried to hide a wince. The Little Person's concern was obvious but Darren knew there was nothing he could do. Mr. Crepsley had rubbed his spit into the wound to help heal it, but even now Darren could feel blood seeping through the bandages on his shoulder. Despite Seba's medical supplies nothing had dulled the pain. Maybe I can buy some pain killers when we reach a town, he thought, but knew that was wishful thinking – they wouldn't help.
The three continued to travel through the night, stopping only to rest briefly and ensure they were not being followed.
Darren tripped more times than he would have liked – the twinges in his shoulder occasionally throwing him off balance. The swampy ground had not lessened during the distance they had walked. When he had just about had enough the ground suddenly smoothed out, dampness giving way to soft, firm soil. The trees no longer felt wet under Darren's touch; he could feel the rough, dry bark under his fingers.
Mr. Crepsley tapped Darren on his right shoulder. "Let us rest here," he said. "The ground is dry in this area." He stopped and sat down with his back against a tree, his cloak spread around him. Harkat sat next to him, pinning one side of Mr. Crepsley's cloak to the soil.
Darren threw down his backpack but remained standing. He looked around uncertainly. Something doesn't feel right, he thought.
Mr. Crepsley watched him. "Is there something wrong?" he asked. "Does your shoulder still hurt?"
"No," Darren lied. He suppressed a wince as he said it. "I was just wondering what a vampaneze would be doing all the way out here, in a deserted forest."
"Do you think the vampaneze … following us could have … known about the … elixir?" Harkat asked.
Darren shrugged, then instantly regretted it. Oww! He made a mental note not to do that again.
Mr. Crepsley shook his head. "I do not know. It is a possibility. However I believe the vampaneze we encountered was purposely looking for an easy kill."
"He got one all right," Darren muttered drily.
"Nevertheless," Mr. Crepsley continued, "we should not dwell here too long. Someone may have discovered our friend back there and could be following our trail."
"Can't you flit back and check?" Darren asked.
"I considered that, but do not want to open the risk of getting caught." Mr. Crepsley paused. He nodded thoughtfully to himself and added, "I could flit us further away, putting a safer distance ahead, but that would mean leaving one of you behind and returning to collect you. I cannot carry you both."
"I'll stay," Harkat offered without hesitation.
"No," Darren said firmly before Mr. Crepsley could reply. "Forget it. No one's staying behind."
"But Mr. Crepsley could easily … carry you to safety first … then return for me …"
"No," Darren repeated, stubbornly this time. "It doesn't matter how fast Mr. Crepsley can flit, there's no guarantee you won't be attacked while we're gone. No one may even be following us, so let's just keep going on foot."
Harkat said nothing and looked at Mr. Crepsley. The old vampire nodded and said, "Very well." He caught Darren's gaze and patted the empty space next to him. "But first, rest."
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After more hours of walking – the distance between them and the dead vampaneze growing with every step – darkness finally disappeared and the first light of dawn began to spread through the trees. They used the growing light to explore their surroundings. The ground grew harder, the air smelt fresh and trees became more visible; animals came out of their homes to explore the strangers wandering past. Mr. Crepsley led them to a cluster of trees, the shadows protecting them from the sunlight, and pointed a slender finger directly in front of him.
"Look over there," he said.
Darren stopped with relief. His legs felt like jelly, his mouth dry. Harkat shuffled to a halt next to him.
"I can't see anything," Darren said, following Mr. Crepsley's gaze. For a second his vision slipped in and out of focus; black dots appeared on the outer parts of his eyes. He blinked a few times.
Mr. Crepsley frowned at him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Darren dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"
Mr. Crepsley's frown deepened, but he turned and pointed. "There," he said. "Can you see?"
Darren looked straight ahead and squinted. The sun had begun its slow ascent into the sky, but instead of light spilling between the trees it was creeping over what looked like tiny bumps in the distance. Darren watched as the sky began to change colour and the bumps became more dominant. After a moment he asked, "Are those mountains?"
"They certainly are," Mr. Crepsley replied.
"Wow!" Darren exclaimed. The pain in his shoulder was momentarily forgotten as he felt a bubble of excitement well up in his chest. "They must be huge! I wish I had a camera." Teasingly, he said to Mr. Crepsley, "You know – it's a type of boxed device that lets you take pictures of the –"
"I know what a camera is," Mr. Crepsley growled. "How old do you think I am?"
"Well …"
"Bite your tongue, boy," Mr. Crepsley snapped, though Darren could see a smile creeping across his face. "It would be the wise choice."
"We need to cross … over them?" Harkat asked, addressing Mr. Crepsley. The vampire nodded. Harkat said, "Wouldn't it be easier … to go around?"
"That would take a very long time," Mr. Crepsley said regretfully. "It is possible, yet the width of the mountains stretches over a great distance. The structure of the rock should be sound so hopefully we can cross over them with no trouble. We will have to wait until darkness falls though. The exposure to sunlight up there is too great."
"Will we need to climb over … any certain points?" Harkat asked.
Mr. Crepsley rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps," he said. He turned to Darren and added, "The cut on your shoulder does not seem to be healing any faster, Darren. It may make things difficult. Do you think you will be okay climbing over?"
Darren looked at him. His excitement was quenched as he contemplated scrambling up rocky walls with nothing to protect him. He felt a sudden wave of determination. What the hell? He thought. I can use my good arm for climbing. There are benefits of being a vampire.
"No problem," he told Mr. Crepsley. "What are a few rocks, right?"
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You are an idiot, Darren. A few rocks – yeah right!
Darren grumbled quietly to himself as he strained his body upwards, trying to stay in an upright position. His right hand scrabbled in the darkness for something to hold on to. Eventually his fingers closed on a piece of rock that jutted out of the mountain. He clung on to it for dear life, using his right arm to haul himself up. His left arm wasn't much good, but he had to use it to keep himself and the mountain together. He pressed his chest as close to the rock as he could. His shoulder screamed at him triumphantly, stabbing him with pain whenever he moved.
He brought his foot up to rest on a gap in the surface, but his toe barely fitted into the hole and he slipped, scattering tiny pieces of rubble everywhere as he struggled to keep his hold.
"Careful," Mr. Crepsley cautioned. He reached out a hand to steady him, his fingers locating Darren's arm in the darkness and gripping it securely.
Ouch!! A flicker of hot, white pain flashed through Darren's head. Wrong arm, you idiot! Of course he would never say that aloud to Mr. Crepsley. He gritted his teeth and used his other hand to steady himself against the stone. Quickly he said, "I'm okay, you can let go." Let go! Let go! Let go! His mind screamed. Oh god, he was going to be sick.
Mr. Crepsley released him.
The queasiness passed. Darren gulped quietly. He could see the outline of Harkat on his right scrabbling past him as he climbed. Little show off.
"Shall we stop?" Mr. Crepsley asked. He had come to a halt next to Darren; his nails were pressed into the rock to hold him still. His cloak blew softly around him like a flag.
Yes! A little voice in Darren's head yelled. "Stop where?" Darren asked. "In case you haven't noticed there's a sheer drop below my feet."
"Do you wish to let go?" Mr. Crepsley proposed with a chuckle.
I do, actually. Darren shook his head. He shoulder throbbed in protest as he continued to climb. "Forget it." He looked up and frowned. "Where's Harkat?" The Little Person had vanished in the darkness.
Mr. Crepsley shrugged and replied, "He is probably at the top. There are plenty of grooves in this mountain for him to scramble up. Shall I flit us both the rest of the way?"
Darren bit his lip. If Mr. Crepsley fell from this height the fall would surely kill them both. But his shoulder killed too much to reject the offer so he nodded. Unsure how well Mr. Crepsley could see in the dark, he answered quietly, "If it's safe enough."
"I would not suggest it if it was not." Mr. Crepsley moved closer to Darren. "Climb on to my back."
It didn't take them long to flit to the top. Darren's weight slowed Mr. Crepsley down slightly so he moved cautiously, carefully choosing his path as he flitted his way to the highest peak above them. The surface at the summit had been flattened from years of being beaten down by weather, age and, most likely, people. Harkat was waiting for them as they emerged at the top. He had already built a fire and was sitting on Darren's backpack, a box of matches clutched in his tiny hands.
"How did you get up so fast?" Darren asked in awe. He jumped off Mr. Crepsley's back.
Harkat smiled. "Maybe you're just … slow?" Darren grunted at him. Harkat laughed and said, "There are benefits to being … a Little Person."
"You should show us them sometime," Darren responded. He mentally tallied off a point to himself. One point to Darren Shan.
Harkat threw the matchbox at him in reply.
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They were making good progress when morning broke. Already they had begun their descent, treading carefully down a small path, partially sliding down it whenever the ground grew too smooth to walk on. It was inevitable people had walked on this path before, as it was clear to see beneath the dry, trodden grass.
Mr. Crepsley tightened his cloak around himself as the sun beamed down on them. He sighed. "I am afraid we will have to press on faster. I can feel the heat radiating. Soon it will be too much to handle."
It's too much to handle now, Darren thought, licking his lips. "I can't even see anything to shelter us up here," he said miserably.
"No," Harkat agreed. He lifted a small, stumpy finger and pointed. "But I can see shelter … over there."
Darren followed his gaze. Trees waved at him in the distance, their branches swaying in the early morning breeze. "You're going to have to be more specific," he said, his eyes following the movement of the forest. It made his head spin.
"Straight ahead," Harkat said. "It's a valley."
Darren shrugged in response. He couldn't see a – but then he stopped and looked harder. The trees seemed to bend to either side to create an opening and there, staring back at him, Darren could see the small, Lego-like buildings. They were so tiny, but as clear as the morning sky as the sun bounced off stone. A line of blue cut through to the valley – a river, Darren noted.
"It's like something out of a history book," Darren said. The whole scene looked historic. He turned to Mr. Crepsley and asked, "Is that the town you mentioned before?"
"No," Mr. Crepsley replied, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. "I think the town is further east. But it does not matter. We can seek shelter there."
Darren looked back at the valley. He couldn't put his finger on it, but an uneasy feeling overcame him as he gazed at it. He shook his head and pushed the feeling to one side. "Sounds good to me," he said, not quite convincing himself.
"Come," Mr. Crepsley said, leading the way. "Let us proceed."
They pressed on, the sun beaming overhead like a clear, amber warning.
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Chapter 02 End
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Closing Note: Thank you for the reviews – I really appreciate them. I love writing but my updates are not always regular, so I apologise in advance if this occurs. I will try to keep updating this story as frequently as possible from now on.