Oddly, as the four descended and Wran and Spiro led the way, proceeding a little ahead of Nestor, Canker stayed very much 'to heel' behind him. Glancing back on occasion, Nestor would find the other padding along in his wake, tongue lolling, for all the world like some grotesque, upright dog. But in no way a 'pet'. And yet in some ways that, too. For whenever Nestor paused, Canker would likewise come to a halt and cock his head on one side, as if he waited on some command or other! On the other hand, his half-human expression was difficult to gauge; Nestor had seen similar looks on the faces of wolves tracking their prey.
Through Wratha's launching bays they went, down massive stairs chiselled from the bed of a sloping shaft, towards the uppermost of Suckscar's levels. Here the brothers Killglance proceeded cautiously indeed, prompting Nestor to inquire: 'A problem?'
Glancing back at him in the gloom of the unlit stairwell, Spiro scowled and impatiently replied, 'What? And didn't you see Wratha's warriors? Do you think she's the only one who keeps guardians like that? Well let me tell you we all have them, and so did Vasagi!'
Canker at once put a hand on Nestor's shoulder, and thrusting his muzzle forwards snarled at Spiro, Then you should let Nestor go first! He has Vasagi's egg, after all. And just as I sniffed it out, so shall they. Why, anyone would suspect that Suckscar was yours now -yours and Wran's together - and not Nestor's at all!'
'Meaning?' Wran turned swiftly in the cramped confines of the sloping tunnel. His eyes had narrowed to slits of scarlet light.
But Nestor intervened, squeezing forwards and replying on Canker's behalf, 'Meaning simply that as Suck-scar's new master, I shouJd go first. Canker is right.'
'Indeed I am,' Canker growled, following close behind. And now the brothers brought up the rear.
Nestor went a little faster; he was eager to discover the extent of Vasagi's holdings, and just exactly what his inheritance would be. And as he went he noticed that even in the dim light of the tunnel, while he was fully aware of the darkness, still he could see almost as well as in broad daylight. Which could only be further evidence of his vampire change.
Eventually, reaching a landing and turning through thirty degrees - as light showed at the bottom of the shaft, where the echoes of their footsteps had preceded them - so other sounds came back. But these were the echoes of furtive movement. And now it was Nestor's turn to pause.
'No,' Canker growled in his ear. 'Go on. They will recognize you. Take my word for it. You are Wamphyri!'
On Sunside, Nestor had always had a way with dogs; he and his forgotten brother alike. As children, wild dogs had come to them out of the forest, not to harm them but to play; domesticated wolves, 'guard dogs', had permitted the very roughest of rough-and-tumbling without turning on them; wild wolves in the hills had sat still at their approach, and not slunk but moved cautiously, almost reluctantly out of their path. Nestor had never made anything of it; it was simply that canine creatures trusted him, and he in turn trusted them and was unafraid. And it was the same now with Canker Canison. Nestor believed what Canker said. And he understood why this - what, this monster? -stuck so close to him. Out of nothing, a relationship had been formed. Nestor wasn't sure if he appreciated it or not, but he trusted it, certainly.
He went unafraid down the stairwell to the bottom, only pausing when something stirred and flowed forward in a narrow archway at the very foot of the stairs. And 'something' was as good a way as any of describing it! It was different again from one of Wratha's personal guardians: black as night, shaped like a bat hanging from a ceiling, but upright, with its head at the top; wider than a man, and a good deal taller; eyes which were crimson wedges in a furred, elongated head. A bat, probably - or what was once a bat - yet manlike, too. A composite creature, bred of Vasagi's vats, retaining sufficient intelligence to obey his commands. Or one command, at least. To guard this stairwell.
The thing was hard to discern; it seemed wrapped in darkness, shrouded in gloom, cloaked in its own smoky fur. But when it thrust its half-rodent, half-human face forward to hiss and spit saliva, its purpose and determination were obvious. And if Nestor and the others would go forward, the only way was past this guardian.
'Huh!' Canker coughed in Nestor's ear, gripped his shoulder. 'Not so grotesque. All of Vasagi's creatures are different ... he was always experimenting! I've not seen this one before. But go forward, present yourself.'
The monster was three paces away, still mainly hidden in its own gloom and that of the archway. Nestor took one tentative step along the now horizontal corridor - and the guardian flowed out of its niche, blocking the way! Also, it became more nearly visible. It was cloaked in darkness: in black, leathery membranous wings which folded across its body, overlapping. But where the folds hugged closest to flesh, there the darkness was alive with pink, wriggling worms!