The Vampire Prince - Darren Shan

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a few minutes and the bats return to their perches. Silence.

      I wonder how they get in and out of the cave. There must be a crack in the roof. For a few seconds I dream about finding it and climbing to safety, but my numb fingers and toes quickly put an end to thoughts of that nature. I couldn’t climb, even if I could find the crack and it was big enough for me to fit through.

      I start thinking about the skeleton again. I don’t want to leave it here. I tug at it, careful this time not to create a racket. It doesn’t budge at first — it’s wedged firm. I get a stronger grip and pull again. It comes loose, all at once, and falls on top of me, driving me under. Water gushes down my throat. Now I panic! The skeleton heavy on top of me, weighing me down. I’m going to drown! I’m going to drown! I’m going to–

      No! Stop panicking. Use my brain. I wrap my arms around the skeleton and slowly roll over. It works! Now the skeleton’s underneath and I’m on top. The air tastes good. My heart stops pounding. A few of the bats are circling again, but most are still.

      Releasing the skeleton, I guide it out towards the middle of the cave, using my feet. I feel the current take it, then it’s gone. I hang on to the wall, treading water, giving the skeleton time to wash ahead of me. I fall to thinking while I wait: was it a good idea to free the skeleton? A nice gesture, but if the bones snag on a rock further along and block my way…

      Too late to worry now. Should have thought of that before.

      My situation’s as desperate as ever. Crazy to think I might get out of this alive. But I force myself to think positively: I’ve made it this far, and the stream must open up sooner or later. Who’s to say I can’t make it to the end? Believe, Darren, believe.

      I’d like to hang here forever – easier to cling on and die of the cold – but I’ve got to try for freedom. In the end, I force my fingers to unclench and let go of the bank. I drift out into the middle of the stream. The current bites at me and latches on. Speeding up — the exit — roaring grows furiously — flowing fast — angling sharply downwards — gone.

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      CHAPTER TWO

      EVEN WORSE beyond the cave — makes the first half of the ride seem like a paddle in a swimming pool — sickening drops and turns — walls studded with jagged stones — water gushes wildly, madly — tossed about as though made of putty — impossible to exert control — no time to pause for breath — lungs bursting — hold my arms tight over my head — tuck my legs up as far as they’ll go — conserve oxygen — bash my head on rocks — my back — legs — belly — back — head — shoulders — head…

      Lose count of the collisions — can’t feel pain any longer — eyes playing tricks on me — looking up, it’s as if the rocks are invisible — I believe I can see the sky, the stars, the moon — this is the beginning of the end — senses in disarray, brain shutting down — out of luck — out of hope — out of life.

      I open my mouth to take one long, last drink of water — slam into a wall — air explodes out of me — force of crash pops me upwards — I break through to a small pocket of air between water and roof — lungs draw it in greedily, automatically.

      I float here a few seconds, pressed against wall, gasping in air — current takes me again and drags me under — through a narrow tunnel — incredible speed — like a bullet — tunnel getting narrower — speed increases — my back scrapes along the wall — the rock’s smooth, otherwise I’d be cut to shreds — feels like a water slide — almost enjoying this part of the nightmarish ride.

      Tunnel evens out — running low on oxygen again — try forcing head up, to search for air — can’t — don’t have the energy to fight.

      Water creeps up my nose — I cough — water pours down my throat — I’m losing the battle — roll over, face down — this is the end — lungs are filling with water — I can’t close my mouth — waiting for death — all of a sudden: no water — flying — (flying?) — whistling air surrounds me — looking down at land — stream cutting through it — floating, as though I’m a bird or a bat — closer to stream — closer — are my eyes playing tricks again?

      Turn over in middle of flight — look up — sky, real sky, open and bright with stars — beautiful — I’m out! — I’m really out! — I made it! — I can breathe! I’m alive! I’m…

      Flight ends — hit water hard — impact shakes my guts to pieces and knocks brain out of order — blackness again, only this time inside my head.

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      CHAPTER THREE

      CONSCIOUSNESS RETURNS gradually. Sounds strike me first: the roar of the water, much softer than in the mountain, almost lyrical. Slowly, my eyes flutter open. I’m staring up at stars, drifting along on my back. Luck or my body’s natural defences? I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m alive!

      The current isn’t strong here. I could easily swim to the bank, pull myself to safety and begin the trip back to Vampire Mountain, which I spot in the near distance. Except I don’t have the strength. I try rolling over to swim — can’t. My legs and arms are like dead blocks of wood. I’ve survived the ride through the mountain, but the cost has been high. I’m completely limp and helpless.

      I study the landscape while the stream sweeps me further away from Vampire Mountain. It’s rugged and unspectacular, but beautiful after the darkness. Anything would seem beautiful after the darkness. I’ll never take the countryside for granted again.

      Am I dying? I could be — no feeling, no control, at the mercy of the stream. Maybe I’m dead already and just haven’t realized it. No! Not dead. Water splashes up my nose and I splutter: proof I’m still alive. I won’t give up, not after all I’ve been through. I have to summon strength from somewhere and make it to the bank. I can’t drift along like this forever: the longer it drags on, the harder it will be.

      I try willing energy into my exhausted limbs. I think about dying young and what a waste it would be, but that doesn’t give me strength. I think about the vampires and the threat they face from Kurda and the vampaneze, but that doesn’t work either. Finally, an old vampire myth succeeds in spreading a burst of fire through my icy bones: I recall the myth that a vampire who dies in running water is doomed to stick around as a ghost — no journey to Paradise for those who die in rivers or streams.

      Strangely (as I never believed the myth), the thought spurs me into action. I raise a weak arm and flap feebly for the bank. The action doesn’t do much, apart from spin me round a little, but the fact that I’m able to move at all fills me with hope.

      Gritting my teeth, I face the bank and force my legs up behind me. They respond sluggishly, but they do respond. I try to swim freestyle — can’t. I roll over on to my back, kick weakly with my feet, and guide myself with gentle hand motions. I slowly pull towards the bank. It takes a long time, and I’m swept much further away from Vampire Mountain, but finally I’m in shallow water, out of the current.

      I half rise to my knees, then collapse. Lying face down, I turn my head sideways, splutter, then get back on my knees. I crawl out of the water, on to the snowy bank, where I collapse again. My eyes close. I weep silently into the snow.

      I want to lie here and freeze: simpler than moving. But my feet are still in the water and I don’t like the feel of them drifting behind me, so I pull them clear. The effort goads me into further action. Groaning, I prop myself up, then rise slowly and painfully to my feet.

      Standing, I stare around as if I’m on an alien planet. Everything looks different. Day is breaking, but stars and the moon still shine lightly in the sky. After so long inside the mountain, I’d forgotten what daylight looks

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