by Rice, Anne
“But I was biding my time for it, and accumulating the money and figuring how to get both Rodrigo and his mother, and free you, Oberon, and you too Miravelle, and get clear of the island and safely to Mayfair Medical where we could find help.”
Oberon was silent. It seemed that he wanted to believe Lorkyn but that he couldn’t quite accept all that she said.
Lorkyn continued:
“In my spare time, which was plentiful, I did a great deal of research on Mayfair Medical. Since Father had told us about it, and told us about Rowan Mayfair, I wanted to know what this was all about. I wasn’t going to call for help until I was sure that it was the wise thing to do. I scoured the Internet for information on Rowan Mayfair and Mayfair Medical. I read everything I could get my hands on. Nowhere could I find any real assurance that Rowan Mayfair had the power, the experience or the means to free us from Rodrigo and his crime family. It seemed to me that I had to take care of Rodrigo. And then I could get us off the island and we would contact Rowan from there. Now if you two don’t believe me on this score, I have no way of proving it to you. My suggestion is you use your heads.”
“Why in Hell didn’t you simply contact the authorities,” said Oberon fiercely. “Why didn’t you E-mail the evidence you had to the Drug Enforcement Agency?”
“And if I had done that, just where do you think you would be right now?”
The anger vanished from Oberon’s face, yet he held her gaze steadily, then:
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“Well neither do I,” said Lorkyn. “Do you think they would have believed you were innocent? Do you think they would have believed the story of the Secret People? Do you think they would have locked you up as a material witness? Do you think Rodrigo’s enemies couldn’t have gotten to you before there was a trial?”
“I see your point,” he said with an air of boredom.
“Do you really see it!” she demanded. She was at her most dramatic, though still relatively low-key. “Rowan Mayfair knows what the Taltos are.”
“So what were you looking for?” Mona asked.
“I was looking for a haven,” said Lorkyn. “Possibly the only haven that exists. And only after I arrived here, after I spent eight solid hours talking to Rowan, did the last of my suspicions drop away.”
“Probably a little too soon,” said Mona.
Lorkyn looked at Mona. Lorkyn raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
Mona didn’t respond.
Rowan said nothing. She didn’t even look at Mona.
“Please excuse Mona,” said Quinn quietly.
“Go on, Lorkyn,” I said. “You spent eight hours straight talking to Rowan. So what gives?”
“This is a place where the Taltos can stay,” said Lorkyn.
“What, to be studied?” said Mona. “You’re going to be put in cages in a lab. You call that a haven? The woman knocks you out with a syringe on the tarmac next to her jet plane and you place all your trust in her?”
Lorkyn stared at Mona. It was a curious moment, the tall long-necked Taltos completely bewildered by Mona’s behavior. Then she drew back and went on:
“You’re misunderstanding me, Mona,” said Lorkyn with soft confidence. “I’m talking of this place as an environment, a community, a world in which we can live and function and be protected and thrive. I myself have studied a great deal in medicine. You knew this when you went into my computer on the island. You brought the hard drive to Rowan. You gave it to her. You gave her proof of my studies. I’ve given her oral proof of my studies. I want to continue my studies. I want to become a doctor. That’s my wish and Rowan has accepted me as a pupil here. I’ve found favor with Rowan. And there are opportunities for fruitful work here for Oberon and for Miravelle, and this is a self-contained universe in which the Taltos can be supervised without conspicuous constraints and be protected effortlessly and be at peace.”
“Ah, wondrously clever,” said Stirling. “I never thought of it.”
“Oh, I think it’s a lovely idea!” said Miravelle. “And we can wear nightgowns all the time, or at least I can. I love nightgowns.”
“There are, as you may know,” Lorkyn continued, her eyes fixed hard on Mona, “many apartments connected to this hospital, which are provided for the visiting families of the sick, and we can live in those apartments as we study here and as we work. We need never leave this compound, except when we have a preordained goal.”
Lorkyn turned her focus from Mona. She looked at Oberon.
“My progress was slow,” she said, “and my success incomplete. But Rowan has the evidence of my efforts. And Mona, you saw them. And you, Lestat, you saw them as well. Oberon, do you accept what I’m saying?”
Oberon was trying. I couldn’t penetrate his thoughts. But I could tell by his expression.
“Why did you never during the entire two years come to me?” he asked.
“You were Lucia’s lover,” Lorkyn said. “I heard you howling with pleasure in the night. What was I to say to you? How did I know what you might say to her?”
“You could have let me know you were alive.”
“You knew I was alive. You saw me. Besides, my movements were circumscribed. My real freedom was on the computer. I studied. I had to find a safe place not only for us to go, but for us to stay.”
“You’re cold,” said Oberon disgustedly. “You always were.”
“Perhaps,” said Lorkyn, “but now I can learn to be warm. Rowan Mayfair will teach me.”
“Oh, that’s rich!” said Mona. “Oberon and Miravelle, you had better order your winter furs.”
Michael roused himself from his quiet reflections. “Mona, honey, please try to trust in what we’re trying to do.”
“If you say so, Uncle Michael,” said Mona.
“Don’t you agree, both of you?” asked Lorkyn, looking at Oberon and Miravelle, “that we need a haven? We cannot simply go out into the world.”
“No, no, I don’t want to go out into the world,” said Miravelle.
Oberon thought for a long moment, the fabulous eyelids lowering and then rising.
“You’re right, of course you are. Where else but here can we discover some contraceptive that allows us to couple without hatching another immediately? Of course. It’s brilliant. Very well.” He gave one of his languid graceful shrugs. “But do we have money from the accounts you managed to transfer?” he asked.
“We have wealth from Father,” said Lorkyn. “Great wealth. The Mayfair family discovered it. That’s no longer a problem. You need not feel beholden. We’re quite free.”
“No, never feel beholden,” said Rowan softly.
“Very well. I feel this discussion has come to an end,” said Lorkyn.
She rose. She looked at Rowan and something silent passed between the two women, some exchange of approval and confidence and belief.
Oberon rose to his feet and took Miravelle by the hand.
“Come, my blessed little idiot,” he said to Miravelle, “we’ll go back to my suite and continue watching The Lord of the Rings. By now they’ll have the white chocolate candy for us and the cold cold milk.”
“Oh, everyone’s so good to us,” said Miravelle, “I love you all, I want you to know. And I’m so glad all the bad men died and Rodrigo fell off the balcony. It was just the best of luck.”
“Isn’t it uplifting, the way she describes it?” asked Oberon archly. “And to think I get to listen to this eighteen hours a day. What about you, Lorkyn? You ever going to drop in to see your brother and sister and indulge in a little intelligent discourse about your medical studies? I might go simply mad if I don’t speak to someone from time to time who can use four-syllable words.”
“Yes, Oberon,” she said. “I’ll come to you more than you might think.”
She came round the table and stood before him. A great relaxation came over him, and he took Lorkyn in his arms. There was an ardent kiss and a slow moving away, with reverence and a locking of thin delicate fi
ngers.
“Oh, I am so happy,” said Miravelle. She kissed Lorkyn on the cheek.
Oberon and Miravelle left.
Lorkyn gave formal nods to all the company, gesturing for the men to take their seats again, and she too went out the door.
The room fell quiet.
Then Rowan spoke: “She’s incomparably brilliant,” she said.
“I understand,” I responded.
No one else spoke.
Mona sat there still for a long time, her eyes every so often engaging Rowan.
Then very softly, Mona said, “It’s over.”
Rowan didn’t answer.
Mona stood up, and so did Quinn. Finally I did also. Michael rose out of courtesy, and Rowan remained in her chair, thoughtful, remote.
For a moment it seemed Mona was going to leave without another word, but just as she reached the door, she looked back, and she said to Rowan:
“I don’t think you’ll see me much anymore.”
“I understand,” said Rowan.
“I love you, sweetheart,” said Michael.
Mona stopped, her head bowed. She didn’t turn around.
“I’ll never forget you,” she said.
I was stunned. I was caught completely off guard.
Michael’s face crumpled as though he’d been hit by a heavy blow. But he said nothing.
“Farewell, my beauteous mortal friends,” I said. “You need me, you know how to find me.”
Indescribable expression on Rowan’s face as she turned and looked up at me.
And so I realized it. It came over me slowly. It was like a chill.
The cause that had bound us together was no more. It wasn’t only Mona’s turning away. We had no more reason to come to one another. No more mystery to justify our intimacy. And honor and virtue, of which I’d spoken so surely, demanded we cease to interfere with one another, cease to learn about each other. We couldn’t walk the same paths.
The Taltos had been discovered, recovered and would be safe within Mayfair Medical. Lorkyn’s speech had been the epilogue.
We had to withdraw.
Why had I not seen it? Why had I not felt the entirety of it? Mona had known last night, and the night before, when she’d stood on the island looking out to sea.
But I had not known. Not known at all.
I turned and followed my companions.
Down we went through the Sacred Mountain of Mayfair Medical in the shining glass elevator and through the wondrous lobby with its mystifying modern sculptures and richly tiled floors, out into the warm air.
Clem ready with the limousine door.
“You sure you wanna go to that part of town?”
“Just drop us off, we’re expected.”
Silence in the car as we move steadily on, as if we are not with one another.
We are not Taltos. We are not innocent. We do not belong on God’s Holy Mountain. We are not protected and redeemed by those whom we have served. They cannot thank us with grace, can they? They cannot open the doors of the tabernacle.
Give us the underbelly of the city, let us spread out, where the cheapest killers come to us in the wild tangled thickets of the empty lots, ready to sink a blade for a twenty-dollar bill, and the corpses rot for weeks in the weeds amid the charred wood and the heaps of brick, and I was ravenous.
Rampant moonflower, chimney stack tall as a tree, didn’t they make this place for me? Whiff of evil. Crunch of broken boards. Morthadie. Cohorts behind the jagged wall. Whisper in my ear: “Ya’ll lookin for a good time?” You couldn’t have said it better.
29
I woke with a start. The sun had set a long while ago. I’d been so comfortable in Aunt Queen’s bed. I’d even done the strangest thing before retiring. I’d yielded to Jasmine’s lectures about my fine linen suit, and hung up all my clothes, and put on a long flannel nightshirt.
What was this mad pretense? I, who had slept in velvet and lace when coffined in the dirt, yielding to these encumbering pleasures? I’d fled the sun into the raw earth itself. I’d bedded down once in the crypt beneath a church altar.
Julien sat at the table. He packed a small thin black cigarette on his gold case, then lighted it. Flash on his cool elegant face. Perfume of smoke.
“Ah, now that is something.”
“So you’re drawing more and more energy from me, I see,” I said. “Do you draw it from me even when I sleep?”
“You’re stone-cold dead by the light of day,” he remarked. “However, you’ve dreamed a pretty dream in the past hour. I rather like your dream.”
“I know what I dreamt. What can I give you to make you go away, forever?”
“I thought you were fond of me. Was that all banter?”
“And so you failed,” I said. “You aided Mona to couple with Michael, and the birth of Morrigan destroyed her. How could you have known? And as to Merrick Mayfair becoming one of us, that wasn’t your fault. You merely entrusted her to the Talamasca. Don’t you see you have to go on? You can’t keep meddling and making mistakes. Lasher’s dead. Morrigan’s dead. You have to let them go, your adorable Mayfairs. You’re playing at being a saint. It isn’t gentlemanly.”
“And will you let them go?” he asked. “Oh, I don’t speak of my treasure, my Mona. She’s lost. I concede that. You know what concerns me now.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Is not the destiny of the entire clan at stake?”
“What are you talking about?” I said.
“Hasn’t the one you covet redeemed the family’s unseemly wealth? Hasn’t she sanctified the family’s incalculable power?”
“What do the angels tell you?” I replied. “Pray to Saint Juan Diego for your answer.”
“Answer me!” he pressed.
“What answer can I give that you’ll accept?” I asked. “Go to Tante Oscar, she’ll know who you are. Or seek out Fr. Kevin Mayfair in his rectory. Put your questions to them. But go away from me.”
“I beg you!” he said.
We stared at each other. He was amazed at his own words. So was I.
“What if I beg you,” I asked, “to interfere no more! To leave them to conscience and fortune?”
“Do we strike a bargain then?” he asked.
I turned away from him. The chills had me. Do we strike a bargain then?
“Damn you!”
I got up, pulled off the nightshirt and put on my clothes. Too many buttons to a three-piece suit. I straightened my purple tie. I combed out my hair. And then there were my boots, outside the door, of course.
There was a master switch for the lights. I hit it. I turned around. He was gone. The little table was untouched. But the smoke lingered. And the perfume of the cigarette with it.
I beg you!
As soon as I slipped on the boots, I left the house by the rear door, walking fast over the wet grass, along the edge of the swamp. I knew where I had to go.
It was the city.
It was the downtown streets.
Just walking, walking and thinking, on the bum, walking. Forget the blood. Blood forget me.
And from downtown I walked uptown, faster and faster, beating the pavements, until it loomed before me on the outskirts of the city, Mayfair Medical, sprawling grid of lights against the close clouded nighttime sky.
What was I doing?
This was the Patients’ Garden, wasn’t it?
Empty at this hour of the night, a wilderness of ligustrum and roses and gravel paths. Harmless to wander here. No hope of seeing anyone in particular. No hope of mischief. No hope of—.
It was Julien before me, blocking the way.
“Ah, you devil!” I said.
“Now what are you up to? What goes on in your crafty mind?” he demanded. “Finding her in her midnight laboratory and offering her your blood again? Asking her to analyze it beneath her microscope, you trickster devil? Any cheap excuse to draw close?”
“Will you never understand? You can’t sway me, man! Seek the Light. Your curses
betray your origin. Now take my curse from me!”
I reached for him—I shut my eyes. I saw the spirit in me, the goading vampiric spirit that animated my flesh, that craved the blood that kept me alive, the spirit in my two hands as I caught him by the throat, and the spirit in him, the animus that sought to project the image of the man that was no man, and I opened my mouth over his, as I had done to Patsy, and I sent the wind into him, the fierce wind of rejection, not love, of renunciation, of repudiation.
Be gone from me, you evil thing, be gone, you twisted, worldly spirit, be gone to whatever realm in which you belong. If I can free you from the Earth, I will it.
He blazed before me, solid, in a fury. I struck him with the full strength of my arm, shattering him, sending him so far from me, I couldn’t see him anymore, and an anguished cry rang out from him that seemed to fill the night.
I was alone.
I gazed up at the huge facade of the Medical Center. I turned around and I walked, and the night was simple and noisy and warm around me.
I walked all the way back downtown.
I sang a little song to myself:
“You have the whole world. You have till the end of time. You have everything you could ever want. Mona and Quinn are with you. And there are so many others in the Blood who love you. It is truly complete now, and you must go your way.…
“Yes, you must go your way and return to the fold of those whom you cannot harm.…”
30
It was an hour before dawn when I returned to Blackwood Farm, a weary soul for my bloodless wanderings, and bound for bed. The Kitchen Committee, as Quinn calls it, was already having coffee and setting the dough to rise.
I had missed Tommy’s departure. He had left me a note—very kind and somewhat unique—thanking me for helping Patsy’s spirit go into the Light. Ah, yes.
I at once sat down at the haunted desk, and, finding the central drawer to contain Blackwood Farm notepaper as I knew it would now that the key was lost, I wrote a note to Tommy saying that I thought he would become an extraordinary man and do great things that would make everyone proud of him.