The Vampire Prince by Darren Shan

Author:Darren Shan [Shan, Darren]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Vampires, Horror & Ghost Stories, Horror Tales
ISBN: 9780316000970
Google: Et6UPwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0316602744
Barnesnoble: 0316602744
Goodreads: 8968
Publisher: Little, Brown Young Readers
Published: 2001-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

OUR FIRST STOP WAS the cave of Ba’Halen’s spiders, where Seba had taken me when I was suffering after my Trial on the Path of Needles. The quartermaster went in by himself, carrying Madam Octa in the palm of his left hand. He was grim-looking and empty-handed when he emerged, eyes half-closed. “Did it work?” I asked. “Were you able —” He shushed me with a quick wave of a hand. Closing his eyes completely, he concentrated fiercely. Moments later, Madam Octa crept out of the cave, followed by a spider with light grey spots on its back. I recognized that spider — I’d seen it mooning after Madam Octa before.

Behind the grey-spotted spider came several more of the mildly poisonous mountain spiders. Others followed, and soon a thick stream of spiders was flowing out of the cave and gathering around us. Seba was directing them, communicating mentally with the wild eight-legged predators.

“I am going to transfer control now,” he told Mr. Crepsley and me when all the spiders were in place. “Larten, take the spiders to my right. Darren, those to my left.”

We nodded and faced the spiders. Mr. Crepsley was able to communicate without the use of aids, as Seba was, but I needed my familiar flute to focus my thoughts and transmit them. Raising it to my lips, I blew a few practice notes. It was awkward, because of my bent right thumb — which still hadn’t straightened out — but I quickly learned to compensate for the damaged digit. Then I stood awaiting Seba’s word.

“Now,” he said softly.

Gently, I played and sent a repeated mental message to the spiders. “Stay where you are,” I told them. “Hold, my beauties, hold.”

The body of spiders swayed uncertainly when Seba stopped transmitting his thoughts, before fixing on mine and Mr. Crepsley’s. After a few confused seconds they clicked into sync with our brainwaves.

“Excellent.” Seba beamed, stepping forward, careful not to squash any of the spiders. “I will leave you with them and go find others. Escort these to the meeting point and wait for me. If any start to drift away, send Madam Octa to rally them — they will obey her.”

We let Seba exit, then turned toward each other. “You need not play the flute continuously,” Mr. Crepsley advised. “A few whistles and commands once we get moving should be enough. They will fall into place behind us and advance naturally. Save the flute for stragglers or rebels.”

“Should we lead or take the rear?” I asked, lowering my flute to wet my lips.

“Lead,” Mr. Crepsley said. “But keep an eye on them and be prepared to drop back if need be, ideally without interrupting the march of the others.”

“I’ll try,” I said, then faced forward and played.

Off I went, Mr. Crepsley beside me, the spiders scuttling along behind. When we reached the larger tunnels, we moved farther apart to form two separate lines.

It wasn’t as difficult to command the spiders as I’d feared. A few gave me

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