Blood and Gold - Anne Rice [202]
Some vague and heated thoughts formed in my mind to do with Amadeo and the brilliance of this gold and of how angry I was, and of how I seethed for vengeance against Santino. I saw ikons with their halos of gold; I saw the coin of the Talamasca made of gold. I saw the golden florins of Florence.
I saw the golden bracelets once worn by Pandora on her beautiful naked arms. I saw the golden bracelets which I had put upon the arms of Akasha.
Gold and gold and gold.
And Amadeo had chosen ashes!
Well, I shall find Pandora once more, I thought. I shall find her! And only if she swears against me will I let her go, will I let her remain with this mysterious companion. Oh, I trembled as I thought of it, as I vowed, as I whispered these wordless thoughts.
Pandora, yes! And some night, for Amadeo, there would be the reckoning with Santino!
A long silence ensued.
The priest beside me was not frightened. I wondered if he could possibly guess how grateful I was that he allowed me to remain there in such precious stillness.
At last, I ran my left fingers over the golden coins.
“Is there enough there for flowers?” I asked, “flowers and trees and beautiful plants in your garden?”
“There is enough there to endow our gardens forever,” he answered.
“Ah forever!” I said. “I have such a love of that word, forever.”
“Yes, it is a timeless word,” he said, raising his mossy eyebrows as he looked at me. “Time is ours, but forever belongs to God, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do,” I said. I turned to face him. I smiled at him, and I saw the warm impression of this on him just as if I’d spoken kind words to him. He couldn’t conceal it.
“You’ve been good to me,” I said.
“Will you write to your friend again?” he asked.
“Not from here,” I answered. “It’s too dangerous for me. From some other place. And I beg you, forget these things.”
He laughed in the most honest and simple way. “Forget!” he said.
I rose to go.
“You shouldn’t have read the letter,” I said. “It can only cause you worry.”
“I had to do it,” he answered. “Before I gave it to you.”
“I cannot imagine why,” I answered. I walked quietly towards the door of the scriptorium.
He came beside me.
“And so you go then, Marius?” he asked.
I turned around. I lifted my hand in farewell.
“Yes, neither angel nor devil, I go,” I said, “neither good nor bad. And I thank you.”
As I had before, I went from him so swiftly he couldn’t see it, and very soon I was alone with the stars, and staring down on that valley all too near to the chapel where a city was forming at the foot of my high cliff which had been neglected by all mankind for over a millennium.
29
I waited a long time before showing the letter to Bianca.
I never really concealed it from her, for I thought such a thing was dishonest. But as she did not ask me the meaning of the pages which I kept with my few personal belongings, I did not explain them to her.
It was too painful for me to share my sorrow with regard to Amadeo. And as for the existence of the Talamasca, it was too bizarre a tale, and too fully interwoven with my love for Pandora.
But I did leave Bianca alone in the shrine more and more often. Never of course did I abandon her there in the early part of the evening when she depended upon me totally to reach those places where we might hunt. On the contrary, I always took her with me.
It was later in the night—after we had fed—that I would return her to safety and go off alone, testing the limits of my powers.
All the while a strange thing was happening to me. As I drank from the Mother my vigor increased. But I also learned what all injured blood drinkers learn—that in healing I was becoming stronger than I had been before my injury.
Of course I gave Bianca my own blood, but as I grew ever stronger the gap between us became very great and I saw it widening.
There were times, of course, when I put the question in my prayers