Hunters of the Dusk by Darren Shan

Author:Darren Shan [Shan, Darren]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780316602112
Amazon: 0316602116
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2005-05-11T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EVANNA HADprepared a feast for us, but it was all vegetables and fruit — she was a vegetarian and wouldn't allow anyone to eat meat in her cave. Vancha teased her about it — "Still on the cow-food, Lady?" — but ate his share along with Harkat and me, though he only chose food which hadn't been cooked.

"How can you eat that?" I asked, revolted, as he tucked into a raw turnip.

"All in the conditioning," he winked, biting deeply into it. "Yum — a worm!"

Mr Crepsley joined us as we were finishing. He was in a sombre mood for the rest of the night, saying little, staring off into space.

The cave was far more luxurious than the caverns of Vampire Mountain. Evanna had made a real home of it, with soft feather beds, wonderful paintings on the walls and huge candle-lit lamps which cast a rosy glow over everything. There were couches to lie on, fans to cool us, exotic fruit and wine. After so many years of rough living, it seemed like a palace.

As we relaxed and digested the meal, Vancha cleared his throat and broached our reason for being here. "Evanna, we've come to discuss—"

She silenced him with a quick wave of a hand. "We'll have none of that tonight," she insisted. "Official business can wait until tomorrow. This is a time for friendship and rest."

"Very well, Lady. This is your domain and I bow to your wishes." Lying back, Vancha burped loudly, then looked for somewhere to spit. Evanna tossed a small silver pot at him. "Ah!" he beamed. "A spittoon." He leant over and spat forcefully into it. There was a slight 'ping' and Vancha grunted happily.

"I was cleaning up for days the last time he visited," Evanna remarked to Harkat and me, "Pools of spit everywhere. Hopefully the spittoon will keep him in order. Now if only there was something for him to flick his nose-pickings into …"

"Are you complaining about me?" Vancha asked.

"Of course not, Sire," she replied sarcastically. "What woman could object to a man invading her home and covering the floor with mucus?"

"I don't think of you as a woman, Evanna," he laughed.

"Oh?" There was ice in her tone. "What do you think of me as?"

"A witch," he said innocently, then leapt from the couch and raced out of the cave before she cast a spell on him.

Later, when Evanna had regained her sense of humour, Vancha snuck back in to his couch, fluffed up a cushion, stretched out and chewed at a wart on his left palm.

"I thought you only slept on the floor," I remarked.

"Ordinarily," he agreed, "but it'd be impolite to refuse another's hospitality, especially when your host is the Lady of the Wilds."

I sat up curiously. "Why do you call her a Lady? Is she a princess?"

Vancha's laughter echoed through the cave. "Do you hear that, Lady? The boy thinks you're a princess!"

"What's so strange about that?" she asked, stroking her moustache. "Don't all princesses look like this?"

"Beneath Paradise, perhaps," Vancha chuckled.

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