Chapter 2: "Latin"

Gillian did something, that she never thought, she would do it again.
She returned to the university.
Strictly speaking she still was a officially registered student. She had never been expelled or signed out, she had just gone in the middle of the semester, without any interest what the professors or the dean would say of it. She finally had gone back to the Cirque du Freak to go on a journey along with her teacher Larten Crepsley and Darren Shan to Vampire Mountain in order to be introduced to the vampire Princes. She had not dreamed, ever to return to the university.
But the vampire Princes had sentenced her to death, and Gillian had not received the permission to search in the library for their legends about the shadowdancers. On her run she had just been able to steal a piece of parchment that Gavner Purl, a Grand Vampire and Larten Crepsleys best friend, had picked out for her, because he believed that it could have some information about the shadowdancers.
Gillian did not know if Gavner Purl had read the document himself. Could the old vampire understand Latin? And how had he found the scroll? The library of the Vampires was chaotic and unsorted, it could take years to find something in there.
Gillian did not know if the parchment actually contained something that she wanted to know.
But she hoped so, for she had risked a lot to get it. Not only that she had taken the risk of having to take a detour via the library, at the danger of getting captured by the guards. She'd have to kill Arra Sails, too, who had stood in her way.
Gillian thought grimly back to it.
She regretted nothing.
She could not stand Arra Sails, and the fact that she also had provoked her, made it in Gillian's eyes more than justified that she had killed her.
However, Arras death made her situation not any easier.
Now it would certainly not be able for her to ever return to the vampires society.
Not only that she was a prisoner sentenced to death, which had killed several guards on the run. She had also killed the vampiress.
Determined there was Arras's friends who wanted to avenge her death.
Gillian did not know if any vampires were after her.
She doubted it.
But she should be careful not to stumble upon anyone of them on her way accitently.
At least until some grass had grown over the matter.
And then there was Larten Crepsley.
How might Larten have reacted, when he found out that Gillian has killed his former girlfriend?
Upon the thought that the two once had had something with each other, Gillian felt downright sick. She again heard the words of Arra, like poison in her soul: "There was a time when Larten followed me everywhere like a little pet dog ..."
Hate clenched into a dark lump in Gillian's stomach.
No, I would kill her again if I have the chance, thought Gillian ...

Gillian climbed up the stairs of the atrium in the big building of the university and turned round into a corridor.
Without knocking, she stormed into a classroom.
All heads turned to her.
What are you staring at?, Gillian thought and stomped past the row of chairs to a free place.
Because still everyone stared at her - including the tutor, a student from a higher semester - Gillian snapped: "Sorry, I'm a little late."
The tutor, a tanned blond named Titus, who had led the same course previously said: "Certainly. Late for six months. Were not you in my beginner's course last semester, and have not stayed to the end?"
Gillian glared angrily at him. "Right. Now I climb back on. So what?"
A girl giggled.
Titus raised an eyebrow. "Well, because this course has, as well as the entire semester, already started three weeks ago. What has kept you for so long from visiting the campus?"
Some of the students started giggling and whispering in the back row.
Gillian looked around irritated. How she hated these arrogant we-know-alls. So she said what came to her mind first:" My little brother Darren had suddenly become very ill."
Titus looked a little milder. "I see. In dysfunctional families, I will turn a blind eye ... "
A girl named Angela, that Gillian knew from last year, snorted contemptuously.
"Nevertheless," continued the tutor, "you have to sign out before you stay away from the course for a long time."
"Can I join now?"
He nodded, and handed out some papers.
Gillian looked at the text and understood nothing.
She hated Latin. Not only that it was a dead language, and nobody really knew how it was spoken. But the course consisted only of translating and grammar. Translations from Latin was more than code breaking than really translating. In addition, the case was difficult for her, because Gillian had never learned grammar correctly not even in her mother language, because she had attended school irregularly and dropped out early. She could not stand with all the terms like nominative, ablative, gerund and conjugation.
Tormented Gillian began to look up the words in her dictionary.
Nevertheless, she needed this course.
The regular courses all took place during the daylight, and therefore Gillian could not attend them.
But anyway, she had no interest in any lectures.
She wanted as quickly as possible to translate the parchment.
So she attended this intensive Latin course, which fortunately was held in the evenings long after sunset, and after the regular lectures.
When the course was over, Gillian gathered up her bag and wanted to leave, but was stopped by a few former friends at the door.
"How's your brother, Darren?" Angela said with a sardonic grin. It was obvious that she did not believed a word of Gillian.
"Hello, Gillian," said a handsome boy next to her. Christian. He always hang around with Angela, and was one of the guys, who often used to stay at the home of the professor and talked with him all night. Gillian could not help but to talk to them, too. "Hi Angela. Hello Christian. My brother is doing well now. "
"What is his problem?" Angela grinned.
Gillian answered coldly: "He is dead."
The smile drained from Angelas face and her mouth formed into an "Oh".
Christian looked pityingly at Gillian. "I'm so sorry to hear that. If there is anything I can do for you ... "
Gillian thought quick. "I could use tutoring in Latin. If you could go through with me what I`ve missed ...? "
Christian nodded eagerly, "Yes, of course. Tomorrow afternoon? "
"Rather, in the evening," said Gillian.
"Do you still live in the Professors house?"
Gillian nodded.
"Then at eight? In the atrium? "
"Cool."
Angela pulled a face. She disliked that Gillian was back, and got all the attention. She still did not believe that Gillian had really gone because of the funeral of her younger brother. She surely just wanted to make herself important. She did not even believe that Gillian had a little brother at all. Angela saw how the boys of her clique were staring at Gillian, and vied with each other to help her with Latin. Above all, Christian.
She wrinkled her nose. "Nice clothes," she said, therefore, to Gillian. "Does that top not belong to Vanessa? I would never have thought, that she would lend you clothes ... But well, you do not have much on your own. "
Gillian looked annoyed to Angela.
"It may be that it is Vanessa`s. I don`t know. I've found it with the professor. In his bedroom, " added Gillian, and enjoyed the effect of her words. All were silent embarrassment.
It was true that she had found some clothes in the house, which clearly came from the female students of the professor. Sometimes some stayed in the house over night. About Gillian has been rumored forever, that she had a relationship with the professor, since she lived with him.
Gillian did not care, she just wanted to be left alone.
The guys were kind of embarrassed, and Gillian took advantage of the resulting silence to say goodbye.
"See you tomorrow," said Christian diligently behind her, and Gillian heard how Angela hissed: "Why do you even bother? She`s in to older men. "
Gillian followed the columnar-lined corridor and went through the heavy oak portal to the outside where it was already dark and in the middle of the night.
She could not suppress a grin.
That`s true.
However, very much older men.
Something along the line of one hundred fifty to two hundred years.