Sons of Destiny

Book 12: Cirque Du Freak

by Darren Shan

Genres: YA Horror; YA Action & Adventure; YA Social Themes; Horror

Synopsis

Time seemed to collapse…There was a sharp stabbing sensation in my stomach…Steve crowed, “Now I have you! Now you’re gonna die!”

Dead if he loses—damned if he wins. The time has finally come for Darren to face his archenemy, Steve Leopard, and fight for control of the night. One of them will die. The other will become the Lord of the Shadows … and destroy the world.

Is the future written, or can Darren trick destiny?

A Blackstone Audio production.

Release date: August 1, 2008

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 272

Sample

PROLOGUE

IF MY LIFE WAS a fairy tale and I was writing a book about it, I’d start with, “Once upon a time there were two boys called Darren and Steve….” But my life’s a horror story, so if I were to write about it, I’d have to begin with something like this instead:

Evil has a name — Steve Leopard.

He was born Steve Leonard, but to his friends (yes — he had friends once!) he was always Steve Leopard. He was never happy at home, didn’t have a dad, didn’t like his mom. He dreamed of power and glory. He yearned for strength and respect, and time in which to enjoy it. He wanted to be a vampire.

His chance came when he spotted a creature of the night, Larten Crepsley, performing in the wondrous magical show, the Cirque Du Freak. He asked Mr. Crepsley to blood him. The vampire refused — he said Steve had bad blood. Steve hated him for that and vowed to track him down and kill him when he grew up.

Some years later, as Steve was preparing for his life as a vampire hunter, he learned about the purple-skinned, red-eyed vampaneze. In legends, vampires are wicked killers who suck humans dry. That’s hysterical garbage — they only take small amounts of blood when they feed, causing no harm. But the vampaneze are different. They broke away from the vampire clan six hundred years ago. They live by laws of their own. They believe it’s shameful to drink from a human without killing. They always murder when they feed. Steve’s sort of people!

Steve went in search of the vampaneze, certain they’d accept him. He probably thought they were as twisted as he was. But he got it wrong. Although the vampaneze were killers, they weren’t inherently evil. They didn’t torture humans, and they tried not to interfere with vampires. They went about their business quietly and calmly, keeping a lower-than-low profile.

I don’t know this for sure, but I’m guessing the vampaneze rejected Steve, just like Mr. Crepsley did. The vampaneze live by even stricter, more traditional rules than vampires. I can’t see them accepting a human into their ranks if they knew he was going to turn out bad.

But Steve found a way in, thanks to that eternal agent of chaos — Desmond Tiny. Most just call him Mr. Tiny, but if you shorten his first name and put it with his last name, you get Mr. Destiny. He’s the most powerful person in the world, immortal as far as anyone knows, a meddler of the highest order. He gave the vampaneze a present many centuries earlier, a coffin that filled with fire whenever a person lay within it, burning them to ashes within seconds. But he said that one night someone would lie in the coffin and emerge unharmed. That person would be the Lord of the Vampaneze and had to be obeyed by every member of the clan. If they accepted this Lord, they’d gain more power than they’d ever imagined. Otherwise they’d be destroyed.

The promise of such power proved too much for Steve to ignore. He decided to take the test. He probably figured he had nothing to lose. He entered the coffin, the flames engulfed him, and a minute later he stepped out unburned. Suddenly, everything changed. He had an army of vampaneze at his command, willing to give their lives for him and do anything he asked. He no longer had to settle for killing Mr. Crepsley — he could wipe out the entire vampire clan!

But Mr. Tiny didn’t want the vampaneze to crush the vampires too easily. He thrives on suffering and conflict. A quick, assured victory wouldn’t provide him with enough entertainment. So he gave the vampires a get-out clause. Three of them had the ability to kill the Vampaneze Lord before he came fully into his powers. They’d have four chances. If they were successful and killed him, the vampires would win the War of the Scars (that’s what the battle between the vampires and vampaneze was known as). If they failed, two would die during the hunt, while the third would survive to witness the downfall of the clan.

Mr. Crepsley was one of the hunters. A Vampire Prince, Vancha March, was another. The last was also a Prince, the youngest ever, a half-vampire called Darren Shan — and that’s where I come in.

I was Steve’s best friend when we were kids. We went to the Cirque Du Freak together, and through Steve I learned of the existence of vampires and was sucked into their world. I was blooded by Mr. Crepsley and served as his assistant. Under his guidance I studied the ways of vampires and traveled to Vampire Mountain. There I undertook my Trials of Initiation — and failed. Fearing death, I fled, but during my escape I uncovered a plot to destroy the clan. Later I exposed it, and as a reward I was not only accepted into the fold, but made a Vampire Prince.

After six years in Vampire Mountain, Mr. Tiny set me on the trail of the Lord of the Vampaneze, along with Mr. Crepsley and Vancha. One of Mr. Tiny’s Little People traveled with us. His name was Harkat Mulds. Little People are grey-skinned, stitched-together, short, with large green eyes, no nose, and ears sewn beneath the flesh of their heads. They’re created from the remains of dead people. Harkat didn’t know who he used to be, but we later found out he was Kurda Smahlt in his previous life — the vampire who’d betrayed the clan in the hope of preventing the War of the Scars.

Not knowing who the Vampaneze Lord was, we missed our first chance to kill him when Vancha let him escape, because he was under the protection of Vancha’s vampaneze brother, Gannen Harst. Later, in the city of Mr. Crepsley’s youth, I ran into Steve again. He told me he was a vampaneze hunter and, fool that I was, I believed him. The others did too, although Mr. Crepsley was suspicious. He sensed something wrong, but I convinced him to grant Steve the benefit of the doubt. I’ve made some terrible mistakes in my life, but that was certainly the worst.

When Steve revealed his true colors, we fought, and twice we had the power to kill him. The first time we let him live because he wanted to trade his life for Debbie Hemlock’s — my human girlfriend. The second time, Mr. Crepsley fought Steve, Gannen Harst, and an impostor, who was pretending to be the Lord of the Vampaneze. Mr. Crepsley killed the impostor, but then was knocked into a pit of stakes by Steve. He could have taken Steve down with him, but let him live so that Gannen and the other vampaneze would spare the lives of his friends. It was only afterward that Steve revealed the truth about himself, and made the bitter loss of Mr. Crepsley all the more unbearable.

There was a long gap between that and our next encounter. I went with Harkat to find out the truth about his past, to a waste world full of monsters and mutants, which we later discovered was Earth in the future. Upon my return I spent a couple of years traveling with the Cirque Du Freak, waiting for destiny (or Des Tiny) to pit Steve and me together again for one final clash.

Our paths finally crossed in our old hometown. I’d returned with the Cirque Du Freak. It was strange revisiting the past, walking the streets of the town where I’d grown up. I saw my sister Annie, now a grown woman with a child of her own, and I ran into an old friend, Tommy Jones, who’d become a professional soccer player. I went to watch Tommy play in an important international game. His team won, but their celebrations were cut short when two of Steve’s henchmen invaded the pitch and killed a lot of people, including Tommy.

I chased after the murderous pair, straight into a trap. I faced Steve again. He had a child called Darius with him — his son. Darius shot me. Steve could have finished me off, but didn’t. It wasn’t the destined time. My end (or his) would only come when I faced him with Vancha by my side.

Crawling through the streets, I was rescued by a pair of tramps. They’d been recruited by Debbie and an ex-police inspector, Alice Burgess, who were building a human army to help the vampires. Vancha March linked up with me while I was recovering. With the ladies and Harkat, we returned to the Cirque Du Freak. We discussed the future with Mr. Tall, the owner of the circus. He told us that no matter who won the war, an evil dictator known as the Lord of the Shadows would rise to rule and destroy the world.

As we were trying to come to terms with the shocking news, two of Steve’s crazed followers struck — R.V. and Morgan James, the pair who’d killed Tommy. With the help of Darius, they slaughtered Mr. Tall and took a hostage — a young boy called Shancus. Half human, half snake, he was the son of one of my best friends, Evra Von.

As Mr. Tall lay dying, Mr. Tiny and a witch called Evanna mysteriously appeared out of nowhere. It turned out that Mr. Tiny was Mr. Tall’s father, and Evanna his sister. Mr. Tiny stayed to mourn the death of his son, while Evanna followed us as we chased after her brother’s killers. We managed to kill Morgan James and capture Darius. As the others hurried after R.V. and Shancus, I stole a few words with Evanna. The witch had the ability to see into the future, and she revealed that if I killed Steve, I would take his place as the dreaded Lord of the Shadows. I’d become a monster, murder Vancha and anybody else who got in my way, and destroy not just the vampaneze, but humanity as well.

As shocked as I was, there was no time to brood. With my allies, we tracked R.V. to the old cinema where Steve and I had first met Mr. Crepsley. Steve was waiting for us, safe on the stage, separated from us by a pit that he had dug and filled with stakes. He mocked us for a while, then agreed to trade Shancus’s life for Darius’s. But he lied. Instead of releasing the snake-boy, he killed him brutally. I still had hold of Darius. In a blind, cold rage, I prepared to murder him for revenge. But just before I stabbed the boy, Steve stopped me with his crudest revelation yet — Darius’s mother was my sister, Annie. If I murdered Steve’s son, I’d be killing my own nephew.

And with that he departed, cackling like the demon he was, leaving me to the madness of the blood-drenched night.

CHAPTER ONE

SITTING ON THE STAGE. Gazing around the theater. Remembering the thrilling show I saw the first time I came. Comparing it to tonight’s warped “entertainment.” Feeling very small and lonely.

Vancha didn’t lose his head, even when Steve played his trump card. He kept going, picked his way through the pit of stakes to the stage, then raced down the tunnel that Steve, Gannen, and R.V. had fled through. It led to the streets at the rear of the theater. No way of telling which way they’d gone. He returned, cursing with fury. When he saw Shancus, lying dead on the stage like a bird with a broken neck, he stopped and sank to his knees.

Evra was next across, following Vancha’s route through the stakes, crying out Shancus’s name, screaming for him not to die, even though he must have known it was too late, that his son was already dead. We should have held him back — he fell and pierced himself several times, and could easily have perished — but we were frozen with shock and horror.

Fortunately Evra made it to the stage without injuring himself too severely. Once there, he slumped beside Shancus, desperately checked for signs of life, then howled with loss. Sobbing and moaning with grief, he cradled the dead boy’s head in his lap, tears dripping onto his son’s motionless face. The rest of us watched from a distance. We were all crying bitterly, even the normally steel-faced Alice Burgess.

In time, Harkat also climbed through the stakes. There was a long plank on the stage. He and Vancha extended it over the pit so that the rest of us could join them. I don’t think anybody really wanted to go up there. For a long moment none of us moved. Then Debbie, sobbing with deep, wracking gulps, stumbled to the plank and hauled herself up.

Alice crossed the pit next. I brought up the rear. I was shaking uncontrollably. I wanted to turn and run. Earlier, I thought I knew how I’d feel if our gamble backfired and Steve killed Shancus. But I’d known nothing. I never truly expected Steve to murder the snake-boy. I’d let R.V. march the boy into Steve’s den, certain no harm would come to my honorary godson.

Now that Steve had made a fool of me (yet again) and slaughtered Shancus, all I wanted was to be dead. I couldn’t feel pain if I was dead. No shame. No guilt. I wouldn’t have to look Evra in the eye, knowing I was responsible for his son’s needless, shocking death.

We’d forgotten about Darius. I hadn’t killed him — how could I kill my own nephew? Following Steve’s triumphant revelation, the hatred and anger that had filled me like a fire drained away from me in an instant. I released Darius, having lost my murderous interest in him, and just left him on the far side of the pit.

Evanna was standing near the boy, idly picking at one of the ropes that encircled her body — she preferred ropes to ordinary clothes. It was clear from the witch’s stance that she wouldn’t interfere if Darius made a break for freedom. It would have been the simplest thing in the world for him to escape. But he didn’t. He stood, sentry-like, trembling, waiting for us to summon him.

Finally Alice stumbled over to me, wiping tears from her face. “We should take them back to the Cirque Du Freak,” she said, nodding at Evra and Shancus.

“In a while,” I agreed, drea. . .