Moments later, three figures emerged from the gloom. Two were Little People, who looked almost exactly like Harkat, except they had their hoods up and moved with a stiffness which Harkat had worked out of his system during his years among the vampires. The third was a small, smiling, white-haired man, who struck more fear in me than a band of marauding vampaneze.
Mr. Tiny!
After more than six hundred years, Desmond Tiny had returned to Vampire Mountain, and I knew as he strode towards us, beaming like a rat-catcher in league with the Pied Piper of Hamlin, that his reappearance heralded nothing but trouble.
CHAPTER SIX
MR. TINY paused briefly when he reached us. The short, plump man was wearing a shabby yellow suit — a thin jacket, no overcoat — with childish-looking green Wellington boots and a chunky pair of glasses. The heart-shaped watch he always carried hung by a chain from the front of his jacket. Some said Mr. Tiny was an agent of fate — his first name was Desmond, and if you shortened it and put the two names together, you got Mr. Destiny.
"You've grown, young Shan," he said, running an eye over me. "And you, Harkat…" He smiled at the Little Person, whose green eyes seemed wider and rounder than ever. "You have changed beyond recognition. Wearing your hood down, working for vampires — and talking!"
"You knew… I could talk," Harkat muttered, slipping back into his old broken speech habits. "You always… knew."
Mr. Tiny nodded, then started forward. "Enough of the chit-chat, boys. I have work to do and I must be quick. Time is precious. A volcano's due to erupt on a small tropical island tomorrow. Everybody within a ten-kilometre radius will be roasted alive. I want to be there — it sounds like great fun."