Blackwood Farm - Anne Rice [234]
“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, yet 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