"Once, we numbered more than a hundred thousand," Mr. Crepsley said. "And this was long ago, when that was a huge amount."

"What happened to them?" I asked.

"They were killed." He sighed. "Humans with stakes; disease; fights — vampires love to fight. In the centuries before the vampaneze broke away and provided us with a real foe, we fought amongst ourselves, many dying in duels. We came close to extinction, but kept our heads above water, just about."

"How many Vampire Generals are there?" I asked curiously.

"Between three and four hundred."

"And vampaneze?"

"Maybe two hundred and fifty, or three hundred — I cannot say for sure."

As I was remembering this old conversation, Mr. Crepsley came out from the cave behind me and watched the sun sinking. It looked the same color as his cropped orange hair. The vampire was in great form — the nights were getting longer the closer to Vampire Mountain we got, so he could move around more than usual.

"It is always nice to see it go down," Mr. Crepsley said, referring to the sun.

"I thought it was going to snow earlier," I said.

"There will be snow aplenty soon," he replied. "We should reach the snowdrifts this week." He glanced down at my feet. "Will you be able to survive the harsh cold?"

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"This has been the easy part." He smiled, then slapped me on the back when he saw my discouraged frown. "Do not worry — you will be fine. But let me know if your feet get cut up again. There are rare bushes that grow along the trail, the sap of which can seal the pores of one's skin."

The Little People came out of the cave, hoods covering their faces. The one without a limp was carrying a dead fox.

"Ready?" Mr. Crepsley asked me.

I nodded and swung my knapsack onto my back. Looking ahead over the rocky terrain, I asked the usual question: "Is it much farther?"