"They did," he replied, "but they took them off - once I was inside my cell."
"Why?"
The Little Person's wide mouth split into a hideous smirk. "They didn't know what I was or - what to make of me. They asked if I was in - pain, so I said I was. They asked if the handcuffs - hurt, so I said they did. So they took them off."
"Just like that?" I asked.
"Yes," he chuckled.
"Lucky beggar," I sniffed.
"Looking like something Dr Frankenstein - threw together has its advantages sometimes," Harkat informed me. "That's also why I was - alone. I could see they were uneasy - around me, so shortly after they began interviewing - me, I told them not to touch me - said I had an - infectious disease. You should have seen them - run!
All three of us laughed aloud.
"You should've told them you were a resurrected corpse," I chuckled. "That would have put their minds at rest!"
We relaxed after that and lay back against the wall of the silo, saying little, eyes half-closed, ruminating on the day's events and the night to come. I was thirsty, so after a while I climbed down the interior stairs and went looking for water. I didn't find any, but I did find a few cans of beans on a shelf in one of the front offices. Carrying them up, I cut them open with my nails and Mr Crepsley and I tucked in. Harkat wasn't hungry - he could go for days on end without food if he had to.
The beans settled nicely in my stomach - cold as they were - and I lay back for an hour, quiet and thoughtful. We weren't in any rush. We had until midnight to rendezvous with Vancha (assuming he made it) and it would take us no more than a couple of hours to march through the tunnels to the cavern where we'd fought the vampaneze.
"Do you think Steve escaped?" I asked eventually.
"I am sure of it," Mr Crepsley replied. "That one has the luck of a demon, and the cunning to match."
"He killed people - police and nurses - while he was escaping," I said.
Mr Crepsley sighed. "I did not think he would attack those who helped him. I would have killed him before we were taken into custody if I had known what he was planning."
"How do you think he got to be so vicious?" I asked. "He wasn't like this when I knew him."
"Yes, he was," Mr Crepsley disagreed. "He just had not grown into his true evil self yet. He was born bad, as certain people are. Humans will tell you that everybody can be helped, that everyone has a choice. In my experience, that is not so. Good people can sometimes choose badness, but bad people cannot choose good."
"I don't believe that," Harkat said softly. "I think good and evil exist - in all of us. We might be born leaning more towards - one than the other, but the choice is there. Ithas to be. Otherwise, we're mere - puppets of fate."
"Perhaps," Mr Crepsley grunted. "Many see it as you do. But I do not think so. Most are born with the freedom of choice. But there are those who defy the rules, who are wicked from the beginning. Maybe theyare puppets of fate, born that way for a reason, to test the rest of us. I do not know. But natural monsters do exist. On that point, nothing you say can shake me. And Steve Leonard is one of them."
"But then it isn't his fault," I said, frowning. "If he was born bad, he isn't to blame for growing up evil."
"No more than a lion is to blame for being a predator," Mr Crepsley agreed.
I thought about that. "If that's the case, we shouldn't hate him - we should pity him."
Mr Crepsley shook his head. "No, Darren. You should neither hate nor pity a monster - merely fear it, and do all in your power to make an end of it before it destroys you." Leaning forward, he rapped on the hard platform with his knuckles. "But remember," he said sternly. "When we venture down the tunnels tonight, Steve Leonard is not our primary enemy - the Lord of the Vampaneze is. If the chance to kill Leonard arises, by all means seize it. But if you have to choose between him and the Lord he serves, strike first for the latter. We must put our personal feelings aside and focus on our mission."
Harkat and I nodded in agreement with the vampire, but he wasn't finished. Pointing at me with a long, bony finger, he said, "That also applies to Miss Hemlock."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"The vampaneze might taunt you with her," he said. "We know they cannot kill us - only their Lord dare cut us down. So they may try to split us up, making it easier for them to capture us. It will hurt, but you must put all thoughts of Debbie aside until the quest to kill the Vampaneze Lord has been settled."
"I don't know if I can do that," I said, eyes downcast.
Mr Crepsley stared hard at me, then dropped his gaze. "You are a Prince," he said quietly. "I cannot command you. If your heart leads you to Debbie, and it proves impossible to resist its call, you must follow. But I ask you to remember the vampires you serve, and what will happen to our clan if we fail."
I nodded soberly. "I haven't forgotten. I'm just not sure, in the heat of the moment, if I'll be able to abandon her."
"But you know that you should?" he pressed. "You understand how important your choice is?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"That is enough," he said. "I trust you to make the right choice."
I cocked an eyebrow. "You sound more like Seba Nile with every passing year," I commented dryly. Seba was the vampire who'd taught Mr Crepsley the ways of the clan.
"I will take that as a compliment," he smiled, then lay back, closed his eyes, and rested in silence, leaving me to think about Debbie and the Lord of the Vampaneze, and contemplate the desperate choice I might be called upon to make.
Chapter ELEVEN
MR CREPSLEY's ankle had improved vastly by the time we left the silo to face our destiny. His flesh was still a nasty shade of purple, but the worst of the swelling had died down. He tested the ankle as little as possible during our trek through the tunnels, but was able to stand unassisted when he had to.
There was no fuss about our descent into the menacing darkness. When the time came, we simply walked down the stairs of the silo, broke out through a boarded-up door, found a manhole, slipped beneath the streets and advanced. We didn't encounter any vampaneze or traps.
We said nothing during the journey. Each of us knew how serious this was, and the odds stacked against us. Victory was unlikely, and even if it came, escape seemed impossible. If we managed to kill the Lord of the Vampaneze, his followers would surely cut us down in revenge, their hands no longer tied by the prophecies of Mr Tiny. We were marching to our doom, and tongues have a tendency to seize up at such times, regardless of how brave you might be.