The long wait betweenthe cremations and my trial was awful. Though Mr. Crepsley kept saying I would be pardoned for failing my Trials of Initiation and forgiven for running away, I wasn't so sure. Working on my diary kept my mind off the upcoming trial, but once I'd brought it up-to-date and checked to make sure I hadn't left anything out, there was nothing to do but sit back and twiddle my thumbs.

Finally, two guards appeared and told me the Princes were ready to receive me. I asked for a few minutes to compose myself. They stood outside the door of my cell while I faced Harkat. "Here," I said, handing him a bag (which used to belong to a friend of mine — Sam Grest) with my diary and some personal items. "If they decide to execute me, I want you to have these."

Harkat nodded solemnly, then followed as I exited the cell and let the guards guide me to the Hall of Princes. Mr. Crepsley also fell in behind, having been notified by a third mountain guard.

We paused outside the doors of the Hall. My belly was rumbling with fear, and I was trembling all over. "Be brave," Mr. Crepsley whispered. "The Princes will treat you fairly. In the event that they do not, I shall come to your aid."

"Me too," Harkat said. "I won't let… them do anything… crazy to you."

"Thanks," I said with a smile, "but I don't want either of you to get involved. Things are bad enough as they are. No point all three of us winding up in the Hall of Death!"

The doors opened and we entered.

The vampires within looked solemn and their heavy gazes did nothing to ease my discomfort. Nobody spoke as we marched to the platform where the Princes sat waiting, stern, arms crossed. The air seemed thin, and I had to gasp deeply for breath.

Mr. Crepsley and Harkat sat at the base of the platform, next to Seba Nile and Vanez Blane. I was led up onto it, where I stood facing the Vampire Princes. After a short period of silence, Paris Skyle spoke. "These are strange times," he sighed. "For centuries, we vampires have stuck by our old ways and traditions and looked on, amused, as humanity changed and evolved, growing ever more fractured. While the humans of this planet have lost their sense of direction and purpose, our belief in ourselves has never wavered — until recently.

"It is a sign of the times that one vampire would raise his hand against his brothers, regardless of his good intentions. Treachery is nothing new to mankind, but this is our first real taste of it, and it has left a sour taste in our mouths. It would be easy to turn a blind eye to the traitors and dismiss them from our thoughts. But that would be to ignore the root of our problem and leave the way open for further acts of treason. The truth is that the changing world has made its mark upon us at last, and we must change if we are to survive within it.

"While we have no plans to abandon our ways outright, we must face the future and adapt as required. We have been living in a world of absolutes, but this is no longer the case. We must open our eyes, ears, and hearts to new ways of thinking and living.

"That is why we have gathered here tonight. In the normal course of things, there would have been no call for a meeting to decide Darren Shan's fate. He failed the Trials of Initiation — the penalty for which is death. He then fled from sentencing, a crime punishable in only one way — death. In the past, he would have been put to the stakes, and none would have intervened on his behalf.

"But times have changed, and Darren has played an instrumental part in opening our eyes to the need for change. He has endured great pain and sacrificed his freedom for the good of the clan. He has fought bravely and proven his worth. Previously, his reward would have been a noble death. Now, however, pleas have been submitted, arguing for his right to live."

Paris cleared his throat and sipped from a glass of blood. The air in the Hall was alive with tension. I couldn't see the faces of the vampires behind me, but I could feel their eyes boring into my back.

"We have argued your case at great length," Paris continued. "In the world of humans, I imagine it would have been easy to reach a conclusion, and you would have been openly pardoned. But we view justice differently. To clear your name and free you would mean altering the very fabric of our laws.

"Some have claimed that it is time to fine-tune the laws. They put forward a convincing case on your behalf. They said laws were made to be broken, a sentiment I do not agree with, but which I am beginning to understand. Others wanted the laws pertaining to the Trials of Initiation temporarily waived. In that case, you would have been cleared, then the laws would have been reinstated. A few called for permanent, outright changes. They felt the laws were unfair and — keeping in mind the threat posed by the coming of the Vampaneze Lord — senseless, in that they might work to rob us of new recruits and weaken our hand."

Paris hesitated and ran his fingers through his long grey beard. "After lengthy debate, much of it heated, we decided against altering our laws. There may come a time when we will have to, but —»

"Charna's guts!" Mr. Crepsley roared, and the next thing I knew, he'd jumped onto the platform and was standing in front of me, fists raised. Moments later, Harkat had joined him, and the two faced the Princes and glared. "I will not stand for this!" Mr. Crepsley shouted. "Darren risked his life for you, and now you would sentence him to death? Never! I will not tolerate such bloody-minded ingratitude. Anyone wishing to lay hands on my assistant will first have to lay hands on me, and I swear by all that is sacred, I will fight them to my last savage breath!"

"The same goes… for me," Harkat growled, tearing loose the mask from around his mouth, his scarred grey face even more fearsome-looking than usual.

"I expected more self-control, Larten," Paris tutted, not in the least disturbed. "This is most unlike you."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Mr. Crepsley retorted. "There is a time for tradition, and there is a time to exercise common sense. I will not let you —»

"Larten," Seba called from the crowd. Mr. Crepsley half-turned at the sound of his mentor's voice. "You should hear Paris out," Seba suggested.

"You agree with them?" Mr. Crepsley howled.

"Actually," Seba replied, "I argued for change. But when the motion was defeated, I accepted it, as any loyal vampire would."

"The hell with loyalty!" Mr. Crepsley barked. "If this is the price of loyalty, perhaps Kurda was right. Maybe it would have been for the best to turn this place over to the vampaneze!"

"You do not mean that." Seba smiled. "Step down, take your seat, and let Paris finish. You are making a fool of yourself."

"But —" Mr. Crepsley began.

"Larten," Seba snapped impatiently. "Down!"

Mr. Crepsley's head dropped. "Very well," he sighed. "I shall bow to your will and hear Paris out. But I am not leaving Darren's side, and anyone who tries to force me from this platform shall live to regret it."

"It is all right, Seba," Paris said as the quartermaster opened his mouth to argue. "Larten and the Little Person may remain." Once that had been settled, Paris continued with his speech. "As I said, we opted not to alter our laws. There may come a time when we have to, but we would rather not rush headlong into such a course of action. Change should be gradual. We must avoid panic and anarchy.

"Having agreed upon the need to be true to our laws, we searched for a loophole that Darren could take advantage of. Nobody in this Hall wished for his death. Even those most strenuously opposed to changes in the laws racked their brains in the hope that an escape clause would present itself.