"Of course not," I muttered. "But you told me they were going to suffer anyway, that the Lord of the Shadows will destroy mankind."
"He will bring it to its knees," she said. "But he will not crushit entirely. Hope will remain. One day, far in the future, humans might rise again. If I interfered and unleashed the real monsters, hope would become a word without meaning."
I didn't know what to think about these other monsters of Evanna's - it was the first time she'd ever spoken of such creatures - so I brought the conversation back to centre on the monster I knew all too much about. "You're wrong when you say I can become the Lord of the Shadows," I said, trying to change my destiny by denying it. "I'm not a monster."
"You would have killed Darius if Steve hadn't said he was your nephew," Evanna reminded me.
I recalled the hateful fury which had flared to life inside me when I saw Shancus die. In that moment I became like Steve. I didn't care about right or wrong. I only wanted to hurt my enemy by killing his son. I'd seen a glimpse of my future then, the beast I could become, but I didn't want to believe it was real.
"That would have been in revenge for Shancus," I said bitterly, trying to hide from the truth. "It wouldn't have been the act of an out-of-control beast. I wouldn't become a monster just because of a single executioning."
"No?" Evanna challenged me. "There was a time when you thought differently. Do you remember when you killed your first vampaneze, in the caves of Vampire Mountain? You wept afterwards. You thought killing was wrong. You believed there were ways to resolve differences other than through violence."
"I still do," I said, but my words sounded hollow, even to me.
"You would not have tried to take the life of a child if you did," Evanna said, stroking the hairs of her beard. "You have changed, Darren. You're not evil like Steve, but you carry the seeds of evil within you. Your intentions are good, but time and circumstance will see you become that which you despise. This world will warp you and, despite your noble wishes, the monster within you will grow. Friends will become enemies. Truths will become lies. Beliefs will become sick jokes."
"The path of revenge is always lined with danger. By following the ways of those you hate, you risk turning into them. This is your destiny, Darren Shan. You cannot avoid it. Unless Steve kills you and he becomes the Lord of the Shadows instead."
"What about Vancha?" I hissed. "Whatif he kills Steve? Can'the become your bloody Lord of the Shadows?"
"No," she said calmly. "Vancha has the power to kill Steve and decide the fate of the War of the Scars. But moving beyond that, it's either you or Steve. There is no other. Death or monstrosity. Those are your options."
She moved ahead of me then, leaving me with my troubled, frantic thoughts. Was there truly no hope for me or the world? And if not, if I was trapped between death at the hands of Steve or replacing him as the Lord of the Shadows, which was preferable? Was it better to live and terrorize the world - or die now, while I was still halfway human?
I couldn't decide on an answer. There didn't seem to be one. And so I trudged along miserably and let my thoughts return to the more pressing issue - what to say to my grown-up sister who'd buried me as a child.
Twenty minutes later, Darius opened the back door and held it ajar. I paused, staring at the house, filled with a sense of foreboding. Vancha and Alice were behind me, and Evanna further behind them. I looked back at my friends pleadingly. "Do I really have to do this?" I croaked.
"Yes," Vancha said. "It would be wrong to risk his life without informing his mother first. She must decide."
"OK," I sighed. "You'll wait out here till I call?"
"Aye."
I gulped, then stepped over the threshold into the house where I'd lived as a boy. After eighteen long years of wandering, I'd finally come home.
Darius guided me to the living room, though I could have foundmy way blindfolded. Much had changed within the house - new wallpaper and carpets, furniture and light fittings - but it felt the same, warm and comfy, layered with memories of the distant past. It was like walking through a ghost house - except the house was real and I was the ghost.
Darius pushed the living-room door open. And there was Annie, her brown hair tied up in a bun, sitting in a chair in front of the TV, sipping hot chocolate, watching the news. "Decided to come home at last, did you?" she said to Darius, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye. She laid the cup of hot chocolate down. "I was worried. Have you seen the news? There's-"
She saw me entering the room after Darius. "Is this one of your friends?" she asked. I could see her thinking I looked too old to be his friend. She was instantly suspicious of me.
"Hello, Annie," I said, smiling nervously, advancing into the light.
"Have we met before?" she asked, frowning, not recognizing me.
"In a way," I chuckled drily.
"Mum, it's-" Darius started to say.
"No," I interrupted. "Let her see for herself. Don't tell her."
"Tell me what?" Annie snapped. She was squinting at me now, uneasy.
"Look closer, Annie," I said softly, walking across the room, stopping less than a metre away from her.
"Look at my eyes. They say the eyes never really change, even if everything else does." "Your voice," she muttered. "There's something about..." She stood - she was the same height as me
- and gazed steadily into my eyes. I smiled. "You look like somebody I knew a long time ago," Annie said. "But I don't remember who..." "You did know me a long time ago," I whispered. "Eighteen years ago." "Nonsense!" Annie snorted. "You'd have only been a baby." "No," I said. "I've aged slowly. I was slightly older than Darius when you last saw me." "Is this a joke?" she half laughed. "Look at him, Mum," Darius said intently. "Reallylook at him." And she did. And this time I saw something in her expression and realized she'd known who I was the second she saw me - she just hadn't admitted it to herself yet.
"Listen to your instincts, Annie," I said. "You always had good instincts. If I'd had your nose for trouble, maybe I wouldn't have gotten into this mess. Maybe I'd have had more sense than to steal a poisonous spider..."