Blood and Gold - Anne Rice [239]
And she in profile, surely knowing he was there, went on with her work, without speaking a word to him.
Across the room, he saw Marius seated on a bench and then he realized that a regal and beautiful woman sat beside him. Surely it was Pandora. Indeed, he knew her by her brown hair. And there on the other side of Marius was the auburn-haired boy he had described: Amadeo.
But there was also another creature in the room, and this without doubt was the black-haired Santino. He sat not far from Maharet, and when Thorne entered, he appeared to shrink away from Thorne, and then glancing at Marius to draw back again, and finally towards Maharet as if in desperation.
Coward, Thorne thought, but he said nothing.
Slowly Maharet turned her head until she could see Thorne, and so that he could see her eyes—human eyes—sad and full of blood, as always.
“What can I give you, Thorne?” she asked, “to make your soul quiet again?”
He shook his head. He motioned for silence, not to compel her but merely to plead with her.
And in the interval Marius rose to his feet, and at once Pandora and Amadeo on either side of him.
“I’ve thought long and hard on it,” Marius said, his eyes on Santino. “And I can’t destroy him if you forbid it. I won’t break the peace with such an action. I believe too much that we must live by rules or we shall all perish.”
“Then it is finished,” said Maharet, her familiar voice bringing the chills to Thorne, “for I’ll never grant you the right to destroy Santino. Yes, he injured you and it was a terrible thing, and I have heard you in the night describing your suffering to Thorne. I’ve listened to your words in sorrow. But you can’t destroy him now. I forbid it. And if you go against me, then there is no one who can restrain anyone.”
“That can’t be,” said Marius. His face was dark and miserable. He glared at Santino. “There must be someone to restrain others. Yet I can’t bear it that he lives after what he’s done to me.”
To Thorne’s amazement the youthful face of Amadeo appeared only puzzled.
As for Pandora, she seemed sad and anxious, as though she feared that Marius wouldn’t keep to his word.
But Thorne knew otherwise.
And as he assessed this black-haired creature now, Santino rose from the bench and backed away from Thorne, pointing his finger at Thorne in terror.
But it was not quick enough.
Thorne sent all his strength at Santino and all Santino could do as he fell to his knees was cry out: “Thorne,” over and over again, his body exploding, the blood flowing from every orifice, the fire finally erupting from his chest and head as he twisted and collapsed on the stone floor, the flames at last consuming him.
Maharet had let out a terrible wail of sorrow, and into the large room her twin had come, her blue eyes searching for the source of pain in her sister.
Maharet rose to her feet. She looked down on the grease and ash that lay before her.
Thorne looked at Marius. He saw a small bitter smile on Marius’s lips, and then Marius looked to him and nodded.
“I need no thanks from you,” Thorne said.
Then he looked to Maharet who was weeping, her sister now holding tight to her arms, and pleading mutely with her to explain herself.
“Wergeld, my Maker,” said Thorne. “As it was in my time, I exact the wergeld or payment for my own life, which you took when you made me a blood drinker. I take it through Santino’s life, which I take beneath your roof.”
“Yes, and against my will,” Maharet cried. “You have done this terrible thing! And Marius, your own friend, has told you that I must rule here.”
“If you would rule here, do it on your own,” said Thorne. “Don’t look to Marius to tell you how to do it. Ah, look at your precious distaff and spindle. How will you protect the Sacred Core if you have no strength to fight those who oppose you?”
She couldn’t answer him, and he could see that Marius was angered, and that Mekare looked at him with menace.
He came towards Maharet, staring intently at her, at her smooth face which now bore no