This wasn't my first dizzy spell — I'd had several recently — but I hadn't taken much notice before — I'd just sat down and waited for the dizziness to pass. This time was different. I was four stories up. There was nowhere to sit.

I tried lowering myself, thinking I could cling to the rafter and crawl to safety. But before I could get low enough, my feet slipped out from under me… and I fell!

Although my vampire blood was responsible for getting me into the mess on the rafters, it also saved my life.

As I fell, I stuck out an arm — more out of desperation than anything else — and my hand caught the rafter. If I'd been an ordinary human boy, I wouldn't have had the strength to hold on. But I wasn't ordinary. I was a half-vampire. And even though I was dizzy, I was able to grab tight and hold on.

I swung above the four-story drop, eyes shut, hanging on by those four slim fingers and my thumb.

"Darren! Hang on!" Sam shouted. He didn't need to tell me that — I was hardly going to let go.

I'm coming over," Sam said. "I'll be there as fast as I can. Don't let go. And don't panic."

He went on talking as he made his way across, calming me down, telling me it would be all right, he'd rescue me, I had to relax, everything was fine.

His words helped. They gave me something other than the drop to think about. If not for Sam, I would have been a goner.

I felt him inch out along my rafter. The wood creaked, and for one awful moment I thought the weight would cause it to break and send both of us plummeting to our deaths. But it held and he closed the gap, crawling along on his stomach, quickly but carefully.

Sam paused when he reached me.

"Now," he said, "I'm going to grab your wrist with my right hand. I'll do it slowly. Don't move while I'm doing it, and don't grab me with your free hand. Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

I felt his hand close over my wrist.

"Don't let go of the rafter," he said.

"I won't," I promised.

"I don't have the strength to pull you up," he told me, "so I'm going to swing you from one side to the other. Stretch your free arm out. When you can, grab for the rafter. If you miss, don't panic, I'll still be holding on. If you get a grip, stay still for a few seconds and give your body a chance to relax. Then we can haul you up. Got it?"

"Got it, captain," I said, grinning nervously.

"Here goes. And remember: Everything will be all right. Okay. It's going to work. You will survive."

He began swinging me, lightly at first, then a little harder. I was tempted to grab at the rafter after a few swings but forced myself to wait. When I thought I was swinging high enough, I stretched out my fingers, concentrated on the thin plank of wood, and grabbed.

I caught it!

I was able to relax a little then and rest the muscles of my right arm.

"Do you feel ready to pull yourself up?" Sam asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I'll help you get your upper body up," he said. "When your stomach is safe across the rafter, I'll get out of the way and give you room to bring your legs up."

Sam put his right hand on the collar of my shirt and jacket — to catch me if I slipped — and helped yank me upward.

I scraped my chest and stomach on the rafter, but the pain didn't bother me. In fact, I welcomed it: It meant I was alive.

When I was safe, Sam backed off and I got my legs up. I crawled after him, moving slower than necessary. When I reached the ledge, I stayed crouched down and didn't stand until we got to the stairs. Then I leaned against the wall and let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief.

"Wow," Sam said to the left of me. "That was fun ! Do you want to do it again?"

I think he was joking.

Later, after I'd stumbled down the stairs — my sense of balance was still off, but getting better — we walked back to the train cars and rested in the shadow of one.

"You saved my life," I said softly.

"It was nothing," Sam said. "You would have done the same for me."

"Probably," I said. "But I wasn't called upon to help. I wasn't the one who had to use his head and act cool. You saved me, Sam. I owe you my life."

"Keep it." He laughed. "What would I do with it?"

"I'm serious, Sam. I owe you big-time. Anything you ever want or need, just ask, and I'll do anything to get it for you."

"You mean that?"

"Cross my heart," I swore.

"There is one thing," he said.

"Name it."

"I want to join the Cirque Du Freak."

"Saaaammmm…" I groaned.

"You asked what I wanted, so I'm telling you," he replied.

"It's not that easy," I protested.

"Yes it is," he said. "You can talk to the owner and put in a good word for me. Come on, Darren, did you mean what you said or not?"

"All right." I sighed. "I'll ask Mr. Tall."

"When?"

"Today," I promised. "As soon as I get back."

"All right!" Sam tried to high-five me.

"But if he says no," I warned him, "that's the end of it, okay? I'll do what I can, but if Mr. Tall says no, that means no."

"Sure," Sam said. "That's fine by me."

"Maybe there's a job for me, too," somebody said behind my back.

I spun around quickly, and there was R.V., smiling strangely.

"You shouldn't creep up on people like that," I snapped. "You scared me."

"Sorry, man," R.V. said, but he didn't look very sorry.

"What are you doing out here?" Sam asked.

"I wanted to find Darren," R.V. said. "I never got a chance to thank him for my ticket."

"That's okay," I said. "I'm sorry I wasn't around to see you when it was over, but I had to go somewhere else."

"Sure," R.V. said, sitting down on the track beside me. "I can understand that. A show that size, there must be lots to do, huh? I bet they keep you real busy, right, man?"

"Right," I said.

R.V. grinned, and stared at the two of us. There was something about the way he was smiling that made me uneasy. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Tell me," R.V. said, "how's the wolf-man doing?"

"He's fine," I said.

"He's chained up all the time, isn't he?" R.V. asked.

"No," I said, remembering Evra's warning.

"He's not?" R.V. acted surprised. "A wild beast like him, savage and dangerous, and he isn't locked up?"

"He's not really dangerous," I said. "That's an act. He's pretty tame, actually." I could see Sam staring at me. He knew how wild the wolf-man was and didn't get why I was lying.

"Tell me, man, what does a thing like that eat?" R.V. asked.

"Steak. Pork chops. Sausages." I forced a smile. "The usual stuff. All store-bought."

"Really? What about the goat that spider bit? Who eats that?"

"I don't know."

"Evra said the two of you bought the goat from a local farmer. Did it cost much?"

"Not really," I said. "It was pretty sick, so it —"

I stopped. Evra had told R.V. we bought the goat from a butcher , not a farmer.

"I've been doing a little investigating, man," R.V. said softly. "Everybody else in my camp has been getting ready to move on, but I've been walking around, counting sheep and cows, asking questions, digging for bones.

"Animals have been vanishing," R.V. continued. "The farmers aren't taking much notice — they don't mind the odd one or two missing — but it intrigues me. Who do you think could be taking them, man?"

I didn't answer.

"Another thing," he said. "I was walking along the river you're camped by, and do you know what I found downstream? Lots of small bones and scraps of skin and meat. Where do you think they could have come from, Darren?"

"I don't know," I said. Then I stood up. "I gotta go now. They need me back at the Cirque. Jobs to do."