MR. CREPSLEY AND GAVNER wouldn't explain the meaning of Harkat's message right away - they were too stunned to speak - and the story only trickled out over the next three or four nights, most of it coming from Gavner Purl.
It had to do with something Mr. Tiny told the vampires hundreds of years ago, when the vampaneze broke away. Once the fighting had died down, he visited the Princes at Vampire Mountain and told them that the vampaneze were not "hierarchically structured" (Mr. Crepsley's phrase), which meant there were no Vampaneze Generals or Princes. Nobody gave orders or bossed the others around.
"That was one of the reasons they broke away," Gavner said. "They didn't like the way things worked with vampires. They thought it was unfair that ordinary vampires had to answer to the Generals, and the Generals to the Princes."
Lowering his voice so that Mr. Crepsley couldn't hear, he said, "To be honest, I agree with some of that. There is room for change. The vampire system has worked for hundreds of years, but that doesn't mean it's perfect."
"Are you saying you'd rather be a vampaneze?" I asked, shocked.
"Of course not!" He laughed. "They kill, and allow mad vampaneze like Murlough to run around and do as they please. It's far better to be a vampire. But that doesn't mean that some of their ideas aren't worth taking on board.
"Not flitting on the way to Vampire Mountain, for example - that's a ridiculous rule, but it can only be changed by the Princes, who don't have to change anything they don't want to, regardless of what the rest of us think. Generals have to do everything the Princes say, and ordinary vampires have to do everything Generals say."
Though the vampaneze didn't believe in leaders, Mr. Tiny said that one night a champion would step forward. He would be known as the Vampaneze Lord and the vampaneze would follow him blindly and do everything he said.
"What's so bad about that?" I asked.
"Wait till you hear the next part," Gavner said gravely. Apparently, not long after the Vampaneze Lord came to power, he would lead the vampaneze into war against the vampires. It was a war, Mr. Tiny warned, that the vampires couldn't win. They would be wiped out.
"Is that true?" I asked, appalled.
Gavner shrugged. "We've been asking ourselves that for seven hundred years. Nobody doubts Mr. Tiny's powers - he's proved before that he can see into the future - but sometimes he tells lies. He's an evil little worm."
"Why didn't you go after the vampaneze and kill them all?" I asked.
"Mr. Tiny said that some vampaneze would survive and the Vampaneze Lord would come as promised. Besides, war with the vampaneze was exacting too heavy a toll. Humans were hunting us down and might have made an end of us. It was best to declare a truce and let matters lie."
"Is there no way the vampires could beat the vampaneze?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," Gavner replied scratching his head. "There are more vampires than vampaneze and we're as strong as they are, so I can't see why we shouldn't be able to get the better of them. But Mr. Tiny said numbers wouldn't matter.
"There's one hope," he added. "The Stone of Blood."
"What's that?"
"You'll see when we get to Vampire Mountain. It's a magic icon, sacred to us. Mr. Tiny said that if we prevented it from falling into the hands of the vampaneze, one night, long after the battle has been fought and lost, there's a chance that vampires might rise from the ashes and prosper again."
"How?" I asked, frowning.
Gavner smiled. "That question has puzzled vampires for as long as it's been asked. Let me know if you figure it out," he said with a wink, and drew the conversation to a troubling close.
A week later, we arrived at Vampire Mountain.
It wasn't the highest mountain in the region, but it was steep and rocky, and looked like it would be almost impossible to climb. "Where's the palace?" I asked, squinting up at the snowy peak, which seemed to point directly at the three-quarter moon overhead.
"Palace?" Mr. Crepsley replied.
"Where the Vampire Princes live." Mr. Crepsley and Gavner burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" I snapped.
"How long do you think we would escape detection if we built a palace on the side of a mountain?" Mr. Crepsley asked.
"Then where...?" Understanding dawned. "It's inside the mountain!"
"Of course." Gavner smiled. "The mountain's a giant hive of caves and chambers. Everything a vampire could wish for is stored within - coffins, vats of human blood, food, and wine. The only time you see vampires on the outside is when they're arriving or departing or going to hunt."
"How do we get in?" I asked.
Mr. Crepsley tapped the side of his nose. "Watch and see."
We walked around the rocky base of the mountain. Mr. Crepsley and Gavner were full of excitement, though only Gavner let it show - the older vampire acted as dryly as ever, and it was only when he thought nobody was looking that he'd grin to himself and rub his hands together in anticipation.
We reached a stream that was about twenty feet wide. The water flowed swiftly through it and gushed away down to the flat plains beyond. While we were working our way upstream, a lone wolf appeared in the near distance and howled. Streak and the other wolves came to an immediate stop. Streak's ears pricked up; he listened a moment, then howled back. His tail was wagging when he looked at me.
"He is saying good-bye," Mr. Crepsley informed me, but I'd guessed that already.
"Do they have to go?" I asked.
"This is what they came for - to meet others of their kind. It would be cruel to ask them to stay with us."
I nodded glumly and reached down to scratch Streak's ears. "Nice knowing you, Streak," I said. Then I patted Rudi. "I'll miss you, you miserable little runt."
The adult wolves started to walk away. Rudi hesitated, looking from me to the departing wolves. For a second I thought he might choose to stick with me, but then he barked, rubbed his wet nose over the tops of my bare feet, and ran off after the others.
"You'll see him again," Gavner promised. "We'll look them up when we leave."
"Sure." I sniffed, pretending I wasn't bothered. "I'll be okay. They're just a pack of dumb old wolves. I don't care."
"Of course you don't." Gavner smiled.
"Come," Mr. Crepsley said, heading upstream. "We cannot stand here all night, pining over a few mangy wolves." I glared at him, and he coughed uncomfortably. "You know," he added softly, "wolves never forget a face. The cub will remember you even when it is old and gray."
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, then turned and resumed walking. Gavner and Harkat fell in behind him. I looked over my shoulder one last time at the departing wolves, sighed dejectedly, then I picked up my bag and followed.