by Rice, Anne
“ ‘Why you, I would like to know,’ she said to me with a thick accent. ‘Why not me after all this time? I serve and I serve, and she brings you to me and says make him ready. I am nothing but a slave.’
“ ‘Help me to get out of here,’ I said, ‘and I’ll make you rich.’
“She laughed. ‘You don’t even want it, and they’re giving it to you!’ she said scoffing. ‘And why? Because she has a whim.’ Her voice was soft but insistent. ‘Everything is a whim with her. To come. To go. To live in this palazzo. To live in that palazzo.’ She laid down the syringe. I heard the clink of metal. She lifted a long scissors. She cut a lock from my hair.
“ ‘What did you put into me?’ I asked. ‘Why did you shave my face? Where is Petronia?’
“She laughed, and so did another young woman who appeared on the left side of me, opposite. She was also slender, fashionable-looking and pretty of face, just like the one who was trimming my hair. She stood with her back to the light, her shadow falling over me.
“ ‘We should kill you,’ said the other woman, the new one, ‘so that she can’t do it. We could tell her that you died.’
“They both laughed at this joke uproariously.
“ ‘Why do you wish me harm?’ I asked.
“ ‘Because she chose you instead of us!’ said the one who had injected me. She was angry but she didn’t raise her voice. ‘Do you know how long we’ve waited? We’ve been teased by her since we were children. Always she has an excuse, except when she is angry, and then she offers no excuse for anything, and God help those who ask her for one!’ She took a comb to my hair. ‘You’re ready as far as I can see.’
“ ‘Don’t worry,’ said the other one. She stood with folded arms. Her face was cold. She had beautiful sneering lips. ‘We won’t hurt you. She would know when she comes. And then she would kill us for certain.’
“ ‘Are you talking about Petronia?’
“ ‘You don’t know anything,’ said the one who had been combing my hair. ‘She’s just playing with you. She’s going to kill you like all the rest.’
“I could feel the drug working in me, or was it my imagination? I was so hot, so miserable. I was neither drugged nor conscious.
“ ‘Don’t try to get up,’ said the woman with the comb. But I did try and I pushed her away from me.
“She fell back, murmuring in Italian. I think she was cursing. ‘I hope she tortures you!’ she said.
“I was flat on my back. I imagined myself crawling to the balustrade. I should have dropped down, no matter how low it was. I had been a fool not to try it. My eyes closed. I could hear their voices, their cheap, cruel laughter. I hated them.
“ ‘Listen to me,’ I said. ‘Help me to the balustrade. I’ll go over it myself. You can tell her that I jumped. I’ll probably die, and you’ll be happy and free of me, just like … just like …’ I couldn’t make my mouth form the words. I wasn’t sure I had said even what I thought I had said.
“I was swooning. I could no longer see.
“The bed was moving, and at first I thought it was my disorientation, but then I heard the squeak of the wheels. A coolness came over me and I felt my clothes being ripped from me, and then, down into a pool of warm water, my body was slipped.
“Thank God for it, I thought. The sweat and the heat were gone. Someone was bathing me and I didn’t hear the voices of the young women anymore.
“ ‘Listen to me,’ said a voice right close to my ear.
“I tried to open my eyes. In a flash I saw the ceiling painted with murals—a great blue sky with flying gods and goddesses: Bacchus in his chariot and satyrs around him with wreaths and trails of green ivy, and the maenads with their hair ripped and their clothes in tatters following behind. Brand-new. Too bright.
“Then I saw the boy who was bathing me. He was one of those extraordinary young Italian beauties with a halo of black curls for hair, and a gorgeous naked chest and muscular arms.
“ ‘I’m talking to you,’ he said with a thick accent. ‘Can you understand me?’
“ ‘The water feels good,’ I tried to say, but I’m not sure I managed the words.
“ ‘Can you understand me?’ he asked again.
“I tried to nod but my head was against a rim of porcelain. I said, ‘Yes.’
“ ‘She’ll test you,’ he said. He went on bathing me, lifting the water in his hands and letting it flow over me. ‘If you fail her tests, she’ll kill you. That’s always her way with those who fail her. There is nothing to be gained from fighting her. Remember what I say.’
“ ‘Help me to get away from here,’ I said.
“ ‘I can’t help you.’
“ ‘Do you believe me?’ I struggled to articulate it. ‘When I say that I can reward you? I have plenty of money.’
“His eyes widened and he shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter if I believe you,’ he said. ‘She would find me, no matter where we went or what you gave me. She’s too powerful for me ever to escape her. My life was finished the night that she saw me waiting tables in a café in Venezia.’ He made a short bitter laugh. ‘I wish to God that I had never brought her that little glass of wine, that useless little glass of wine.’
“ ‘There has to be a way,’ I said. ‘She’s not God, this woman.’ I was losing consciousness again. I fought it. I remembered the cold air and the stars around me. What was she? What kind of monster?
“ ‘No, not God,’ he said smiling bitterly. ‘Just powerful and very cruel.’
“ ‘What does she want with me?’ I asked.
“ ‘Try to stand up to her tests,’ he said. ‘Try to please her. Otherwise you die. She never does anything else with those who fail her. She gives them to us, and we rid the world of the bodies, and for that we are allowed to continue to live. That’s our existence. Can you imagine the place the Devil has for us in his inferno? Now, if you believe in God, use this time to say your prayers.’
“I couldn’t speak anymore.
“I felt him raise my arms, one at a time, and shave the hair beneath them. It was a strange ritual, and I couldn’t understand the desire of anyone for such a thing to be done.
“He seemed to sense my discomfort.
“ ‘I don’t know what it means,’ he said to me softly, ‘but for you she has ordered us to take great care.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means something. Only in time will we know.’
“I think I laid my hand over his and patted him to console him because he sounded so sad.
“All the while the water of the bath was warm and moving, and then he told me in my ear that he was taking me to a place where I would wake from the drugs I’d been given, but I mustn’t make noise.
“I slept.
“When I woke, I knew that I was alone. I could hear the silence and stillness around me, and I found myself on a couch and surrounded by golden bars.
“ ‘How my friend loves gold,’ I whispered, ‘but then I have always loved it myself.’
“Within seconds I realized I was in a glorified round cage. The door was securely locked, and I wore no boot or even a sandal with which to kick at it, and my fist did little good.
“As for my clothes, I’d been dressed in a pair of black pants. No shirt.
“Now, outside of this cage there was a great marble room, precisely what one would expect in a hillside palazzo, and it had its large square floor-length windows open to a long terrace, as one might also expect, and there was the sunset streaking the sky with red, and the violet light simmering as the sun sank into the sea.
“Italy, so glorious, on the flank of the great mountain, and not very far no doubt from the ruins of tragic cities it had destroyed.
“I sat back on the couch, watching the windows fill up with early stars and the room darken before me, which only proved to put it in a gentler light.
“There was something so very decadent and perverse about the cage in which I was imprisoned that I loathed it intensely, ye
t it had an odd calming effect on me because I knew that in a monstrous game with Petronia I might have some chance. That had been the implication of the boy who had bathed me. At least that had been the inference which I drew. Nevertheless, I was revolted by everything around me. This was a completely new emotion for me.
“The lights came up slowly, revealing scattered lamps along the inner walls of the room and murals which somewhat mimicked those of Pompeii—that is, rectangular paintings framing in Roman red various goddesses who danced with their backs turned to the room.
“And as these lights filled the space with a golden illumination there entered not the proud arrogant Petronia whom I expected but two other creatures equally strange.
“One was a black man, so black indeed that he looked like polished onyx, and though he was at the very far end of the marble room, away from me, I could see the gold earrings in his ears.
“He had very delicate features and he had yellow eyes. His hair was very curly and short-cropped and not totally unlike my own.
“The other man was a puzzle. He appeared old. Indeed, he had heavy jowls and receding temples and his hair was silver, but he appeared to be without blemish, as if he were made not from old flesh and blood but from wax. His eyes sagged slightly at the outside edges as if they were going to slide down his face, and his chin jutted, which gave him a firm look.
“This one, the old one, reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t think who it was.
“Neither of these creatures looked human and there settled over me the certainty that they weren’t.
“I flashed on the stars I’d seen last night, or whenever it had been as we’d risen into the air, and I felt a dreadful fatality—indeed, an awful sense that everything I’d known and loved was about to be taken from me and there was little really that I could do to prevent it. The test, the fight, the contest, whatever, would be a matter of form.
“I was mutely horrified and I sought to adjust my emotions. To be tantalized was my only hope. There was no time for wonder or curiosity.
“These two men came towards me but purely by accident. Though they looked at me, they seated themselves at a table in the center of the room. And there they began to play chess and to talk to each other, their profiles turned to me, which meant that the silver-haired man with the waxy jowls had his back to the star-studded sky and the black man looked out.
“Both of these creatures wore immaculate evening dress of a sort. They had on shining black dinner jackets and trousers and patent leather shoes. But they wore white turtlenecks of some very glossy material rather than shirts and black ties.
“They were soon laughing and joking with each other, and the language was Italian, so I couldn’t follow what they said. But when I’d had a bellyful of it, I spoke up.
“ ‘So neither of you will enlighten me,’ I asked, ‘as to why I’m held captive here? You don’t think I’d be in this predicament of my own free will?’
“It was the elderly-looking gentleman who answered me, his chin jutting even more as he did so. ‘Well, now,’ he said in clear English, ‘you know you did something to be here. Now, what did you do to Petronia? She wouldn’t have brought you here if you were innocent. Don’t claim to be that with us.’
“ ‘That’s exactly what I claim,’ I said. ‘I was brought here out of her caprice, and I ought to be released.’
“The black man spoke to the other. ‘I do tire of her games, I swear it.’ His voice was mellow and sweet, as though he was used to power.
“ ‘Oh, come, you know you enjoy it as much as I do,’ said the elderly one. His voice was deep. ‘Why else would you be here now? You knew she had this boy.’
“ ‘All I ask is to be released,’ I said sharply. ‘I can’t send the authorities after you because I don’t know who you are, and as for Petronia, all attempts in the past by me to have her discovered or arrested have failed, and they’ll fail in the future. I won’t attempt any such thing. What I ask is to be let go!’
“The black man rose from his armchair and he came towards me. He was the taller of the two. I didn’t stand up to measure my height against his. He reached through the bars and laid his cool hand on my head. He looked into my eyes. I hated him. It took all my self-control to remain still.
“ ‘You’ve done no wrong to anyone,’ he said under his breath, as though he had read it from my mind. ‘And across the world she brings you for her blood sport.’ He sighed. ‘Oh, Petronia, why the cruelty, always the cruelty? Why, my beautiful pupil? When will you ever learn?’
“ ‘You’ll let me go?’ I asked. I looked up at him. What a splendid being he was. His features were sublimely chiseled and his face looked kind.
“ ‘I can’t do that, my child,’ he said in an even voice. ‘I wish that I could, but I believe your fate is decided. I’ll try to make your agony short.’
“ ‘Why does my life mean so little to you?’ I asked. ‘I come from a world where every life is precious. Why is it so different for you?’
“The old man had approached by this time, walking in a sprightly manner completely out of keeping with the appearances of age in him, and he was peering through the bars at me too.
“ ‘No, you’re not innocent, don’t tell us that,’ he chortled. ‘You’re the Evil Doer in some guise,’ he protested. ‘She wouldn’t bring you here otherwise. I know her too well.’
“ ‘Not well enough,’ said the coal black one. ‘She does what she pleases and it’s never enough for her.’
“I stared at the old man. ‘The old man,’ I said aloud, and then I realized it. ‘The Old Man,’ I said again. ‘It’s you. The portrait on the living room wall! It’s Manfred Blackwood, that’s who you are.’
“ ‘And who are you to say my name so boldly to me?’ he demanded. He puffed himself up.
“ ‘You’re demons, all of you. God, this is Hell.’ I laughed. I felt the drug in me again. There was no escape. My words came in a rush. ‘If it weren’t for Julien Mayfair, you’d be my ancestor. I’m Tarquin Blackwood, that’s who I am. She took me from the Hermitage, the Hermitage you built for her, and that I refurbished for her. Blackwood Manor’s in my hands now. Your granddaughter, Lorraine, is still living, living to mourn for me and tear out her hair that I’ve disappeared from Blackwood Farm. Didn’t Petronia tell you what she was up to?’
“He went into a fury. He tried to shake the bars but he couldn’t. He pounded upon the lock. Now he was an old man in all his parts, his jaw trembling, his eyes tearing. ‘Abomination!’ he roared.
“The black one tried to calm him. ‘Now, let this matter be in my hands,’ he said. ‘We have an order here of authority.’
“ ‘Do you see what she means to do?’ the Old Man shouted. His jowls trembled. All of him trembled. His eyes were inflamed as he gazed at me. ‘Who told you about Julien?’ he demanded, as if such a thing were important now.
“ ‘Julien himself told me. I’m a seer of spirits,’ I retorted. ‘But what does it matter? Get me out of this place. Your granddaughter Lorraine needs me. Blackwood Farm needs me. I have flesh and blood that need me.’
“Suddenly Petronia herself appeared. Clad in a black velvet tunic and pants with a belt of cameos, she came striding across the long room and up to the two men, declaring as she did:
“ ‘What is this, the convocation of the cage?’
“As Manfred tried to seize her by the throat she threw him backwards, so that his body went yards across the marble floor and slammed into the wall, his head snapped back in a blow that would have killed an ordinary human and out of his throat came a deep and terrible roar.
“ ‘Don’t dare to question me,’ she said.
“The black one, as though nothing could perturb him, reached out for her and slipped his arm around her neck. He was taller than her by some inches. Probably he was my height. He brought her head down onto his shoulder and I saw her hand tremble as she let him do it, and he whispered to her,
“ ‘Petronia, my dearest,
why, why always the rage?’
“He held her and she allowed herself to be held, and the Old Man wept as he collected himself, came forward, wounded, furious, helpless, shaking his head.
“ ‘My own,’ wept the Old Man, ‘and your pledges to me are worthless, your bond is worthless—.’
“ ‘Leave me alone, you fool,’ she said, raising her eyes and turning her head to look at him. ‘I’ve kept my pledges to you ten times over. I’ve given you immortality! What in hell do you want? And then on top of it riches undreamt of. This boy is nothing to you but something sentimental, like the photographs you keep of your precious Virginia Lee and your son William and your daughter Camille, as if these people were anything to you in the dust of time. They are not.’
“The Old Man sobbed. Then he spoke, blubbering.
“ ‘Stop her, Arion,’ he said. ‘Don’t let her go on. Stop her.’
“ ‘Wretched, miserable, old man,’ Petronia said. ‘Old forever. Nothing could give you youth. I despise you.’
“ ‘And that’s your reason for what you’ve done to me?’ I asked. It would have been wiser perhaps to say nothing, but in some way this case was being tried before Arion, the black one, and I had to make some effort or die full of regret.
“Petronia looked at me, and, as if seeing me for the first time, she smiled. And as always happened when she smiled, she looked serene and lovely. She was still in the arms of Arion, and Arion was stroking her loose full hair. It was utterly loving the way that Arion held her. Her breasts were against him, and he seemed to adore her.
“ ‘Don’t you want to live forever, Quinn?’ she asked me.
“She slipped gently out of the embrace of Arion, and she took from underneath her black velvet tunic a gold chain, and on the end of this chain was a key, and with this she unlocked my handsome prison.
“She opened the door. With the meanest fingers imaginable she grabbed my left arm and yanked me from the couch and out into the room, slamming me up against the bars. It sent a shudder of pain through me.
“Arion remained close, staring at me, and the Old Man was some distance away. He had taken a small picture from his coat and he looked at it piteously. I wondered if it was of Virginia Lee. He was whispering to himself insanely.