Darren Shan - Cirque Du Freak 11 - Lord of the Shadows

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DARREN SHAN LORD OF THE SHADOWS
THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN
BOOK 11
For:
Bas – my globetrotting gal
OBE’s
(Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:
Maiko “Greenfingers” Enomoto
Megumi “The Voice” Hashimoto
“Queen” Tomoko Taguchi
“Eagle-eyed” Tomoko Aoki
Yamada “Papa” san
And everybody else on the Japanese Shan team who worked
so hard to make June 2003 such a special time for me
Editing crew:
Gillie “The Don” and Zoë “The Mom”
Guiding Lights:
The Christopher Little Posse
PROLOGUE
IN THE distance a wave of blood was building. Red, towering, topped with spitting heads
of fire. On a vast plain, a mass of vampires waited. All three thousand or so faced the
onrushing wave. At the rear, Separated from the crowd. I stood alone. I was trying to push
forward - I wanted to be with the rest of the clan when the wave hit - but an invisible force
held me back.
As I struggled, roaring silently - my voice didn’t work here the wave swept ever nearer. The
vampires pulled closer together, terrified but proud, facing their deaths with dignity. Some
were pointing spears or swords at the wave, as though they could fight it back.
Closer now, almost upon them, half a kilometre high, stretching in an unbroken line across
the horizon. A wave of crackling flames and boiling blood. The moon disappeared behind the
crimson curtain and a blood-red darkness descended.
The foremost vampires were eaten by the wave. They screamed in agony as they were
crushed, drowned or burnt to death, their bodies tossed about like pieces of cork within the
heart of the scarlet wave. I reached out to them-my people! - and prayed to the gods of the
vampires to free me, so that I could die with my blood brothers and sisters. But still I couldn’t
break through the invisible boundary.
More vampires vanished beneath the breaking surf of fire and blood lost to the wave of
merciless red. A thousand lives extinguished fifteen hundred warriors eliminated - two
thousand souls sent soaring to Paradise twenty - five hundred death howls - three thousand
corpses, bobbing and burning in the flames.
And then only I was left. My voice returned, and with a desolate cry I collapsed to my knees
and glared hatefully up at the crest of the wave as it teetered overhead. I saw faces within the
walls of flaming blood - my friends and allies. The wave was taunting me with them. Then I
saw something hovering in the air above the wave, a creature of myth but oh so real. A dragon.
Long. Glittering. Scaled. Terrifyingly beautiful. And on its back - a person. A figure of
pulsating darkness. It was almost as though his body had been created from shadows.
The shadow man laughed when he saw me, and his laugh was a ghostly cackle, evil and
mocking. At his command, the dragon swooped lower, so that it was only a few metres above
me. From here I could see its rider’s features. His face was a mass of dancing patches of
darkness, but when I squinted I recognized him - Steve Leopard.
“All must fall to the Lord of the Shadows,” Steve said softly. And pointed behind me. “This
is my world now.”
Turning around, I saw a vast area of wasteland dotted with corpses. Over the dead bodies
crawled giant toads, hissing black panthers, grotesque human mutants, and more nightmarish
creatures and shapes. Cities burnt in the far distance, and great mushroom clouds of smoke
and flames filled the air overhead.
I faced Steve again and roared a challenge at him. “Face me on the ground, you monster!
Fight me now!”
Steve only laughed, then waved an arm at the wave of fire. There was a moment of hushed
calm. Then the wave crashed to earth around me and I was swept away, face burning lungs
filling with blood, surrounded by the bodies of the dead. But what terrified me most before I
was swallowed by eternal blackness was that I’d snatched one final glimpse of the Lord of the
Shadows before I died. And this time it wasn’t Steve’s face I saw - it was mine.
CHAPTER ONE
My eyes snapped open. I wanted to scream, but there was a hand over my mouth, rough and
powerful. Fear Gripped me. I lashed out at my attacker. Then my senses returned and I
realized it was just Harkat, muffling my screams so that I didn’t disturb any of the sleepers in
the neighbouring caravans and tents.
I relaxed and tapped Harkat’s hand to show that I was OK. He released me and stepped back,
his large green eyes alive with concern. He handed me a mug of water. I drank deeply from it,
then wiped a shaking hand across my lips and smiled weakly. “Did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Harkat said. The grey-skinned Little Person didn’t need much sleep and
often went two or three nights without dozing. He took the mug from me and set it down. “It
was a bad one this time. You started screaming five or six minutes ago and only stopped now.
The same nightmare?”
“Isn’t it always?” I muttered. “The wasteworld, the wave of fire, the dragon, the … Steve,” I
finished quietly. I’d been haunted by the nightmare for almost two years, screaming myself
awake at least a couple of times a week. In all those months I hadn’t told Harkat about the
Lord of the Shadows and that wretched face I always saw at the end of the nightmare. As far
as he knew, Steve was the only monster in my dreams - I didn’t dare tell him that I was as
scared of myself as I was of Steve Leopard.
I swung my legs out of my hammock and sat up. I could tell by the darkness that it was only
three or four in the morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep any more the nightmare
always left me shaken and wide awake.
I swung my legs out of my hammock and sat up. I could tell by the darkness that it was only
three or four in the morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep any more the nightmare
always left me shaken and wide awake. Rubbing the back of my neck, I found myself
studying Harkat out of the corner of my eye. Although he wasn't the source of my nightmares,
I could trace their origins back to him. The Little Person had been built from the remains of a
corpse. For most of his new life he hadn't know who he was. Two years ago, Mr Tiny - a man
of immense power, with the ability to travel through time - transported us to a barren
wasteworld and sent us off on a quest to discover Harkat's previous identity. We fought a
variety of wild creatures and twisted monstrosities before finally fishing Harkat's original
body out of the Lake of Souls, a holding place for damned spirits.
Harkat used to be a vampire called Kurda Smahlt. He'd betrayed the vampire clan in a bid to
prevent war with our blood cousins, the purple-skinned vampaneze. To make up for his sins,
he'd agreed to become Harkat Mulds and travel back into the past to be my guardian.
I'm Darren Shan, a Vampire Prince. I'm also one of the hunters of the Lord of the
Vampaneze -a. k. a. Steve Leopard. Steve was destined to lead the vampaneze to victory over
the vampires if he won, he'd wipe us out entirely. But a few of us - the hunters - had the
ability to stop him before he came fully into his powers. If we found and killed him before he
matured, the war would be ours. By helping me as Harkat, Kurda hoped to help the clan and
prevent their destined destruction at the hands of the vampaneze. In that way he could put
right some of the wrongs he'd committed.
Having learnt the truth about Harkat, we returned to our own world - rather, our own time.
Because what we worked out later was that the wasteworld wasn't an alternative universe or
Earth in the past, as we'd first thought - it was Earth in the future. Mr Tiny had given us a
glimpse of what was to come if the Lord of the Shadows came to power.
Harkat thought the ruined world would only come to pass if the vampaneze won the War of
the scars. But I knew about a prediction which I hadn't shared with anybody else. When the
hunt for Steve was finally concluded, there would be one of two possible futures. In one,
Steve became the Lord of the Shadows and destroyed the world. In the other future, the Lord
of the Shadows was me.
Harkat thought the ruined world would only come to pass if the vampaneze won the War of
the scars. But I knew about a prediction which I hadn't shared with anybody else. When the
hunt for Steve was finally concluded, there would be one of two possible futures. In one,
Steve became the Lord of the Shadows and destroyed the world. In the other future, the Lord
of the Shadows was me. That's why I woke in a cold sweat, to the sound of my own screams,
so often. It wasn't just fear of the future, but fear of myself. Would I somehow play a part in
creating the barren, twisted world I'd seen in the future? Was I damned to become a monster
like Steve, and wreck all that I held dear? It seemed impossible, but the uncertainties gnawed
away at me all the same, prompted by the ever - repeating nightmares.
I spent the time before dawn chatting with Harkat, small talk, nothing serious. He'd suffered
terrible nightmares before finding out the truth about himself, so he knew exactly what I was
going through. He knew what to say to calm me down.
When the sun rose and the Cirque camp started to come to life around us, we made an early
start on our day's chores. We'd been with the Cirque Du Freak since returning from our
gruelling quest in the wasteworld. We knew nothing about what was happening in the War of
the Scars. Harkat wanted to return to Vampire Mountain, or at least make contact with the
clan - now that he knew he had once been a vampire, he was more concerned then ever for
them. But I held off. I didn't feel the time was right. I had a hunch that we were meant to
remain with the Cirque, and that destiny would decide our course as and when it saw fit.
Harkat strongly disagreed with me - we'd had some very heated arguments about it - but he
reluctantly followed my lead - though I'd sensed recently that his patience was coming to an
end.
We performed a variety of jobs around the camp, helping out wherever we were needed -
moving equipment, mending costumes, feeding the Wolf Man. We were handymen. Mr Tall -
the owner of the Cirque Du Freak - had offered to find more responsible, permanent positions
for us, but we didn't know when we'd have to leave. It was easier to stick to simple tasks and
not get too involved in the long - term running of the show. That way we wouldn't be missed
too much when the time came to part company with the freakish folk.
We'd been performing on the outskirts of a large city, in an old, run-down factory.
Sometimes we played in a big top which we transported around with us, but Mr Tall always
liked to take advantage of local venues whenever possible. This was our fourth and final show
in the factory. We'd be moving on in the morning, to pastures new. None of us knew where
we'd be going yet - Mr Tall made those decisions and usually didn't tell us until we'd broken
camp and were already on the move.
We put on a typically tight, exciting show that night, built around some of the longest -
serving performers - Gertha Teeth, Rhamus Twobellies, Alexander Ribs, Truska the bearded
lady, Hans Hands, Evra and Shancus Von. Usually the Vons rounded of the show, treating
audiences to one final scare when their snakes slid from the shadows overhead. But Mr Tall
had been experimenting with different line - ups recently.
On stage, Jekkus Flang was juggling knives. Jekkus was one of the Cirque helpers, like
Harkat and me, but tonight he'd been billed as a star attraction and was entertaining the crowd
with a display of knife tricks. Jekkus was a good juggler, but his act was pretty dull compared
to the others. After a few minutes, a man in front row stood up as Jekkus balanced a long
knife on the tip of his nose.
“This is rubbish!” the man shouted, climbing on to the stage. “This is meant to be a place of
magic and wonder ― not juggling tricks! I could see stuff like this at any circus.” Jekkus took
the knife from his nose and snarled at the intruder. “Get off the stage, or I'll cut you up into
tiny pieces!”
“You don't worry me,” the man snorted, taking a couple of large paces over to Jekkus, so
they were eyeball to eyeball. “You're wasting our time and money. I want a refund.”
“Insolent scum!” Jekkus roared, then lashed out with his knife and cut off the man's left arm
just below the elbow! The man screamed and grabbed for the falling limb. As he was reaching
for his lost forearm, Jekkus struck again and cut off the man's other arm in the same place!
People in the audience erupted with panic and surged to their feet. The man with the jagged
stumps beneath his elbows tottered towards the edge of the stage, desperately waving his half-
arms around, face white with apparent shock. But then he stopped ― and laughed.
The people in the front rows heard the laughter and stared up at the stage suspiciously. The
man laughed again. This time his laughter carried further, and people all around relaxed and
faced the stage. As they watched, tiny hands grew out of the stumps of the man's arms. The
hands continued to grow, followed by wrists and forearms. A minute later, the man's arm had
returned to their natural length. He flexed his fingers, grinned, and took a bow.
“Insolent scum!” Jekkus roared, then lashed out with his knife and cut off the man's left arm
just below the elbow! The man screamed and grabbed for the falling limb. As he was reaching
for his lost forearm, Jekkus struck again and cut off the man's other arm in the same place!
People in the audience erupted with panic and surged to their feet. The man with the jagged
stumps beneath his elbows tottered towards the edge of the stage, desperately waving his half-
arms around, face white with apparent shock. But then he stopped ― and laughed.
The people in the front rows heard the laughter and stared up at the stage suspiciously. The
man laughed again. This time his laughter carried further, and people all around relaxed and
faced the stage. As they watched, tiny hands grew out of the stumps of the man's arms. The
hands continued to grow, followed by wrists and forearms. A minute later, the man's arm had
returned to their natural length. He flexed his fingers, grinned, and took a bow.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Mr Tall boomed, appearing suddenly on stage. “Put your hands
together for the fabulous, amazing, the incredible Cormac Limbs!”
Everybody realized they'd been the victims of a practical joke ― the man who'd stepped
out of the audience was a performer. They clapped and cheered as Cormac sliced off his
fingers on by one, each of which grew back quickly. He could cut off any part of his body ―
though he'd never tried chopping off his head! Then the show finished for real and the crowd
poured out, babbling with excitement, wildly discussing the mystical mysteries of the
sensational Cirque Du Freak.
Inside, Harkat and I helped with the tiding up. Everyone involved was vastly experienced,
and we could normally clear everything away within half an hour, sometimes less. Mr Tall
stood in the shadows while we worked. That was odd ― he normally retired to his van after a
show ― but we took little notice of it. You grew used to oddness when you worked with the
Cirque Du Freak!
As I was stacking several chairs away, to be removed to a truck by other hands, Mr Tall
stepped forward. “A moment, please, Darren,” he said, removing the tall red hat he wore
whenever he went on stage. He took a map out of the hat ― the map was much larger than the
hat, but I didn't question how he'd fitted it inside ― and unrolled it. He held one end of the
map in his large left hand and nodded for me to take the other end.
“This is where we are now,” Mr Tall said, pointing to a spot on the map. I studied it
curiously, wondering why he was showing me. “And this is where we will be going next,” he
said, pointing to a town a hundred and sixty kilometres away.
I looked at the name of the town. My breath caught in my throat. For a moment I felt dizzy
and a cloud seemed to pass in front of my eyes. Then my expression cleared. “I see,” I said
softly.
“You don't have to come with us,” Mr Tall said. “You can take a different route and meet
up with us later, if you wish.”
I started to think about it, then made a snap gut decision instead. “That's OK,” I said. “I’ll
come. I want to. It ... it'll be interesting. “
“Very well.” Mr Tall said briskly, taking back the map and rolling it up again.
“We depart in the morning.”
With that, Mr Tall slipped away. I felt he didn't approve of my decision, but I couldn't say
why, and I didn't devote much thought to it. Instead, I stood by the stacked ― up chairs, lost
in the past, thinking about all the people I'd known as a child, especially my parents and
younger sister. Harkat limped over eventually and waved a grey hand in front of my face,
snapping me out of my daze. “What's wrong?” he asked, sensing my disquiet.
“Nothing,” I said, with a confused shrug. “At least, I don't think so. It might even be a good
thing. I …” Sighing, I stared at the ten little scars on my fingertips and muttered without
looking up. “I'm going home.”
CHAPTER TWO
ALEXANDER RIBS stood, rapped his ribcage with a spoon and opened his mouth. A loud
musical note sprang out and all conversation ceased. Facing the boy at the head of the table,
Alexander sang, “He’s green, he’s lean, snot he’s never seen, his name is Shancus, happy
birthday!”
Everybody cheered. Thirty performers and helpers from the Cirque Du Freak were seated
around a huge oval table, celebrating Shancus Von’s eight birthday. It was a chilly April day,
and most people were wrapped up warmly. The table was overflowing with cakes, sweets and
drinks, and we were digging in happily.
When Alexander Ribs sat down, Truska ― a woman who could grow her beard at will ―
stood and sung another birthday greeting. “The only things he fears is his mother’s flying ears,
his name is Shancus, happy birthday!”
Merla snapped one of her ears off when she heard that and flicked it at her son. He ducked
and it flew high over his head, then circled back to Merla, who caught and reattached it to the
side of her head. Everyone laughed.
Since Shancus had been named in my honour, I guessed I’d better chip in with a verse of
my own. Thinking quickly, I stood, cleared my throat, and chanted, “He’s scaly and he’s great,
today he has turned eight, his name is Shancus ― happy birthday!”
“Thanks, godfather.” Shancus smirked. I wasn’t really his godfather, but he liked to pretend
I was especially when it was his birthday and he was looking for a cool present! A few others
took turns singing birthday greetings to the snake-boy, then Evra stood and wrapped up the
song with, “Despite the pranks you pull, your mum and I love you, pesky Shancus, happy
birthday!”
There was lots of applause, then the women at the table shuffled over to hug and kiss
Shancus. He pulled a mortified expression, but I could see he was delighted by the attention.
His younger brother, Urcha, was jealous and sat a little way back from the table, sulking.
Their sister, Lilia, was rooting through the piles of presents Shancus had received, seeing if
there was anything of interest to a five-year-old girl.
Evra went to try and cheer up Urcha. Unlike Shancus and Lilia, the middle Von child was
an ordinary human and he felt he was the odd one out. Evra and Merla had a tough time
making him feel special. I saw Evra slip a small present to Urcha, and heard him whisper,
“Don’t tell the others!” Urcha looked much happier after that. He joined Shancus at the table
and tucked into a pile of small cakes.
I made my way over to where Evra was beaming at his family. “Eight years,” I remarked,
clapping Evra on his left shoulder (some of his scales had been sliced away from his right
shoulder a long time ago, and he didn’t like people touching him there).”I bet it feels like
eight weeks.
“You don’t know how right you are,” Evra smiled. “Time flies when you have kids. You’ll
find out yourself one-” stopped and grimaced. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I said. As a half-vampire, I was sterile. I could never have children.
It was one of the drawbacks to being part of the clan.
“When are you going to show the snake to Shancus?” Evra asked.
“Later,” I grinned. I gave him a book earlier. He thinks that’s his real present ― he looked
disgusted! I’ll let him enjoy the rest of the party, then hit him with the snake when he thinks
the fun is over.”
Shancus already owned a snake but I’d bought a new one for him, larger and more colourful.
Evra helped me choose it. His old snake would be passed on to Urcha, so both boys would
have cause to celebrate tonight.
Merla called Evra back to the party ― Lilia had got stuck in wrapping paper and needed to
be rescued. I watched my friends for a minute or two, then turned my back on the festivities
and walked away. I wandered through the maze of vans and tents of the Cirque Du Freak,
coming to a halt near the Wolf Man’s cage. The savage man-beast was snoring. I took a small
jar of pickled onions out of my pocket and ate one, smiling sadly as I remembered where my
taste for pickled onions had come from.
That memory led to others, and I found myself looking back over the years, recalling major
events, remarkable triumphs, and sickening losses. The night of my blooding, when Mr
Crepsley pumped his vampiric blood into me. Slowly coming to terms with my appetite and
powers. Sam Grest the original pickled onion connoisseur. My first girlfriend, Debbie
Hemlock. Learning about the vampaneze. The trek to Vampire Mountain. The Trials, where
I’d had to prove myself worthy of being a child of the night. Failing and running away. The
revelation that a vampire General - Kurda Smahlt - was a traitor, in league with the
vampaneze. Exposing Kurda. Becoming a Prince.
The Wolf Man stirred and I walked on, not wanting to wake him. My mind continued to
turn over old memories. Kurda telling us why he’d betrayed the clan ― the Lord of the
Vampaneze had arisen and stoop poised to lead his people into war against the vampires. The
early years of the War of the Scars, when I’d lived in Vampire Mountain. Leaving the safety
of the fortress to hunt for the Vampaneze Lord, accompanied by Mr Crepsley and Harkat.
Meeting Vancha March, the third hunter ― only he, Mr Crepsley or I could kill the
Vampaneze Lord. Travelling with a witch called Evanna. Clashing with the Lord of the
Vampaneze, unaware of his identity until afterwards, when he’d escaped with his protector,
Gannen Harst.
I wanted to stop there - the next set of memories was the most painful - but my thoughts
raced on. Returning to the city of Mr Crepsley’s youth. Running into Debbie again ― an adult
now, a teacher. Other faces from the past ― R. V. and Steve Leopard. The former used to be
an eco-warrior, a man who blamed me for the loss of his hands. He’d become a vampaneze
and was part of a plot to lure my allies and me underground, where the Lord of the
Vampaneze could kill us.
Steve was part of that plot too, though at first I thought he was on our side. Steve was my
best friend when we were kids. We went to the Cirque Du Freak together. He recognized Mr
Crepsley and asked to be his assistant. Mr Crepsley refused ― he said Steve had evil blood.
Later, Steve was bitten by Mr Crepsley’s poisonous tarantula. Only Mr Crepsley could cure
him. I became a half-vampire to save Steve’s life, but Steve didn’t see it that way. He thought
I’d betrayed him and taken his place among the vampires. He became hell-bent on revenge.
Underground in Mr Crepsley’s city. Facing the vampaneze in a chamber Steve had named
the Cavern of Retribution. Me, Mr Crepsley, Vancha, Harkat, Debbie and a police officer
called Alice Burgess. A huge fight. Mr Crepsley faced the man we thought was the Lord of
the Vampaneze. He killed him. But then Steve killed Mr Crepsley by knocking him into a pit
of stakes. A gutchurning blow, made all the worse when Steve revealed the shocking truth ―
he was the real Lord of the Vampaneze!
I reached the last of the tents and stopped, gazing around, half-dazed. We’d set up camp in
an abandoned football stadium. It used to be the home ground of the local football team, but
they’d moved to a new, purpose - built stadium some years ago. The old stadium some years
ago. The old stadium was due to be demolished - apartment blocks were to be built over the
ruins - but not for several months yet. It was an eerie feeling, staring around at thousands of
empty seats in the ghost stadium.
Ghosts... That put me in mind of my next, bizarre quest with Harkat, in what we now knew
was a shade of the future. Once again I began to wonder if that ruined future world was
unavoidable. Could I prevent it by killing Steve, or was it destined to come no matter who
won the War of the Scars?
Before I got too worked up about it, someone stepped up beside me and said, “Is the party
over?” I looked around and saw the scarred, stitched-together, grey-skinned face of Harkat
Mulds. “No,” I smiled. “It’s winding down, but it hasn’t finished yet.”
“Good. I was afraid I’d miss it.” Harkat had been out on the streets most of the day, handing
out fliers for the Cirque Du Freak ― that was one of his regular jobs every time we arrived at
a new venue. He stared at me with his round, green, lidless eyes. “How do you feel?” he
asked.
„Strange. Worried. Unsure of myself.”
“Have you been out there yet?” Harkat waved a hand at the town beyond the walls of the
stadium. I shook my head. “Are you going to go, or do you plan… to hide here until we
leave?”
“I’ll go,” I said. “But it’s hard. So many years. So many memories.” This was the real
reason I was fixed on the past. After all these years of travel, I’d returned home to the town
where I was born and had lived all my human life.
“What if my family’s still here?” I asked Harkat.
“Your parents?” he replied.
“And Annie, my sister. They think I’m dead. What if they see me?”
“Would they recognize you?” Harkat asked. “It’s been a long time. People change.”
“Humans do,” I snorted. “But I’ve only aged four or five years.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to… see them again,” Harkat said. “Imagine their joy if
they learnt that ... you were still alive.”
“No,” I said forcefully “I’ve been thinking about that ever since Mr Tall told me were
coming here. I want to track them down. It would be wonderful for me ― but terrible for they
buried me. They've done their grieving and have hopefully moved on with their lives. It
wouldn't be fair to bring back all those old pains and torments.”
“I'm not sure I agree with that,” Harkat said, “but it's... your decision. So stay here with the
Cirque. Lay low. Hide.”
“I can't.” I sighed. “This is my home town. I've got an itch to walk the streets again, see how
much has changed, look for old faces that I used to know. I want to find out what happened to
my friends” The wise thing would be to keep my head down ― but when did I ever do the
wise thing?”
“And maybe trouble would find you ... even if you did,” Harkat said.
“What do you mean?” I frowned. Harkat glanced around uneasily. “I have a strange feeling
about ... this place.” he croaked.”
“What sort of a feeling?” I asked.
“It's hard to explain. Just a feeling that this is ... a dangerous place, but also the place
where ... we're meant to be. Something's going to happen here. Don't you sense it?”
“No ― but my thoughts are all over the place right now.”
“We've often discussed your decision to ... stay with the Cirque,” Harkat reminded me,
making little of the many arguments we'd had about whether or not I should leave and seek
out the Vampire Generals. He believed I was hiding from my duty, that we should seek out
the vampires and resume the hunt for the Vampaneze Lord.
“You're not starting that again, are you?” I groaned.
“No,” he said. “The opposite. I now think you were right. If we hadn't stuck with the
Cirque... we wouldn't be here now. And, as I said, I think we're ... meant to be here.”
I studied Harkat silently. “What do you think will happen?” I asked quietly.
“The feeling isn't that specific,” Harkat said.
“But if you had to guess?” I pressed. Harkat shrugged awkwardly. “I think we might run
into ... Steve Leonard, or find a clue which ... points towards him.”
My insides tightened at the thought of facing Steve again. I hated him for what he'd done to
us, especially killing Mr Crepsley. But just before he died, Mr Crepsley warned me not to
devote my life to hatred. He said it would twist me like Steve. So although I hungered for the
chance to get even, I worried about it too. I didn't know how I'd react when I saw him again,
whether I'd be able to control my emotions or give in to a blind, hateful rage.
“You're frightened,” Harkat noted.
“Yes. But not for Steve. I'm frightened of what I might do.”
“Don't worry,” Harkat smiled. “You'll be OK.”
“What if... “I hesitated, afraid I'd jinx myself. But that was silly, so I came out with it.
“What if Steve tries to use my family against me? What if he threatens my parents or Annie?”
Harkat nodded slowly. “I thought of that already. It's the sort of sick stunt I can... imagine
him pulling.”
“What will I do if he does?” I asked. “He already sucked Debbie into his insane plot to
destroy me ― not to mention R. V. What if-”
“Easy,” Harkat soothed me. “The first thing is to find out if... they still live here. If they do,
we can arrange protection... for them. We'll establish a watch around their house... and guard
them.”
“The two of us can't protect them by ourselves.” I grunted.
“But we're not ourselves,” Harkat said. “Their destinies are tied to ours, I think. That may
be another reason why you felt ... you had to stay here.” Then he smiled.
“Come on.” I want to get to the party before ... Rhamus scoffs all the cakes!”
Laughing, I put my fears behind me for a while and walked back through the campsite with
Harkat. But if I'd known just how closely the destinies of my freakish friends were connected
with mine, and anguish I was steering them towards, I'd have about-faced and immediately
fled to the other end of the world.
CHAPTER THREE
I DIDN’T go exploring that day. I stayed at the Cirque Du Freak and celebrated Shancus’s
birthday. He loved his new snake, and I thought Urcha was going to float away with joy when
he found out Shancus’s old snake was to be his. The party went on longer than expected. The
table was loaded up with more cakes and buns, and not even the ever ―hungry Rhamus
Twobellies could finish them off! Afterwards we prepared for that night’s show, which went
ahead smoothly. I spent most of the show in the wings, studying faces in the audience,
looking for old neighbours and friends. But I didn’t see anybody I recognized.
The next morning, while most of the Cirque folk were sleeping, I slipped out. Although it
was a bright, I wore a light anorak over my clothes, so I could pull the hood up and mask my
face if I had to.
I walked rapidly, thrilled to be back. The streets had changed a lot ―new shops and offices,
many redecorated or redesigned building ―but the names were the same. I ran into memories
on every block. The shop where I bought my football boots. Mum’s favourite clothes
boutique. The cinema where we’d taken Annie to her first film. The newsagent where I
shopped for comics.
I wandered through a vast complex which used to be my favourite computer arcade. It was
under new ownership and had grown beyond recognition. I tried out some of the games, and
smiled as I remembered how excited I’d get when I’d come here on Saturday and blast away a
摘要：

DARRENSHANLORDOFTHESHADOWSTHESAGAOFDARRENSHANBOOK11For:Bas–myglobetrottinggalOBE’s(OrderoftheBloodyEntrails)to:Maiko“Greenfingers”EnomotoMegumi“TheVoice”Hashimoto“Queen”TomokoTaguchi“Eagle-eyed”TomokoAokiYamada“Papa”sanAndeverybodyelseontheJapaneseShanteamwhoworkedsohardtomakeJune2003suchaspecialtim...

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