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PROLOGUE

IF PEOPLE ever tell you vampires aren’t real — don’t believe them! The world’s full of vampires. Not evil, shape-changing, cross-fearing creatures like in the legends, but honorable, long-living, extra-strong beings who need to drink blood to survive. They interfere as little as possible in the affairs of humans, and never kill those they drink from.

Hidden away in some snowy, barely accessible corner of the world, stands Vampire Mountain, where vampires meet every twelve years. The Council (as they call it) is presided over by the Vampire Princes – who are obeyed by all vampires – and most of those in attendance are Vampire Generals, whose job is to govern the walking undead.

In order to present me to the Princes, Mr Crepsley had dragged me along to Vampire Mountain and the Council. Mr Crepsley’s a vampire. I’m his assistant, a half-vampire — my name’s Darren Shan.

It was a long, hard journey. We travelled with a friend of ours – Gavner Purl – four wolves and two Little People, strange creatures who work for a mysterious master by the name of Mr Tiny. One of the Little People was killed on the way by a mad bear which had drunk the blood of a dead vampaneze (they’re like vampires, except they have purple skin, red eyes, nails and hair — and they always kill when they feed). The other then spoke – the first time ever that a Little Person had communicated with anyone – and told us his name was Harkat Mulds. He also delivered a chilling message from Mr Tiny: a Vampaneze Lord would soon come into power and lead the purple-skinned killers into war against the vampires — and win!

Finally we arrived at Vampire Mountain, inside which the vampires lived in a warren of tunnels and large caves. There I made friends with a number of vampires, including Seba Nile, who’d been Mr Crepsley’s teacher when he was younger; Arra Sails, one of the few female vampires; Vanez Blane, a one-eyed games master; and Kurda Smahlt, a General who was soon to become a Prince.

The Princes and most of the Generals weren’t impressed with me. They said I was too young to be a vampire and criticized Mr Crepsley for blooding me. To prove myself worthy of being a half-vampire, I had to undertake the Trials of Initiation, a series of tough tests usually reserved for budding Generals. When I was making up my mind to accept the challenge, they told me that if I passed, I’d be accepted into the vampire ranks. What they neglected to tell me until afterwards (when it was too late to back out) was that if I failed — I’d be killed!