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“Why do I accept your hospitality?” he asked. “I don’t know the answer. Perhaps I feel that having helped yourself to so many mortal delights, you owe some help to another blood drinker who is lost in time as always, wandering from country to country, marveling sometimes and at others merely getting dust in his eyes.”

“Tell yourself anything you like,” I said. “You are welcome to the clothes and to shelter. But tell me at once. What’s happened to Avicus and Zenobia? Do they travel with you? Do you know where they are?”

“I have no idea where they are,” he said, “and surely you sensed it before you asked. It has been so long since I saw either of them that I cannot reckon the years or the centuries. It was Avicus who put her up to it, and off they went together. They left me in Constantinople, and I can’t say that it came to me as a dreadful surprise. There had been terrible coldness between us before the parting. Avicus loved her. She loved him more than me. That was all that was required.”

“I’m sad to hear it.”

“Why?” he asked. “You left the three of us. And you left her with us, that was the worst of it. We were two for so long, and then you forced Zenobia into our company.”

“For the love of Hell, stop blaming me for everything,” I said under my breath. “Will you never cease with your accusations? Am I the author of every evil that ever befell you, Mael? What must I do to be absolved so that there might be silence? It was you, Mael, you,” I whispered, “who took me from my mortal life by force and brought me, shackled and helpless, into your accursed Druid grove!”

The anger spilled from me as I struggled to keep my voice down.

He seemed quite amazed by it.

“And so you do despise me, Marius,” he said, smiling. “I had thought you far too clever for such a simple feeling. Yes, I took you prisoner, and you took the secrets, and I’ve been cursed one way or the other, ever since.”

I had to step back from this. I did not want it. I stood calmly until the anger left me. Let the truth be damned.

For some reason this brought out the kindness in him. As he removed his rags, and kicked them away, he spoke of Avicus and Zenobia.

“The two of them were always slipping into the Emperor’s palace where they would hunt the shadows,” he said. “Zenobia seldom dressed as a boy as you taught her. She was too fond of sumptuous clothes. You should have seen the gowns she wore. And her hair, I think I loved it more than she did.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” I said softly. I saw the vision of her in his mind, and confused it with the vision of her in my own.

“Avicus continued to be the student,” he said with slight contempt. “He mastered Greek. He read everything he could find. You were always his inspiration. He imitated you. He bought books without knowing what they were. On and on, he read.”

“Maybe he did know,” I suggested. “Who can say?”

“I can say,” Mael answered. “I’ve known you both, and he was an idiot gathering poetry and history for nothing. He wasn’t even looking for something. He embraced words and phrases on account of how they felt.”

“And where and how did you spend your hours, Mael?” I asked, my voice far more cold than I had hoped.

“I hunted the dark hills beyond the city,” he responded. “I hunted the soldiery. I hunted for the brutal Evil Doer, as you know. I was the vagabond, and they were dressed as though they were part of the Imperial Court.”

“Did they ever make another?” I asked.

“No!” he said, scoffing. “Who would do such a thing?”

I didn’t answer.

“And you, did you ever make another?” I asked.

“No,” he responded. He frowned. “How would I find someone strong enough?” he asked. He seemed puzzled. “How would I know that a human had the endurance for the Blood?”

“And so you move through the world alone.”

“I’ll find another blood drinker to be a companion,” he said. “Didn’t I find that cursed Santino in Rome? Maybe I’ll lure one from among the Satan worshipers. They can’t all like a miserable life in the catacombs, wearing black robes and