Merrick - Anne Rice [28]
Aaron remarked that the improved vision of the new eyes had been a great blessing to David Talbot, as David had suffered poor vision in his last years. Ah, that was so true, and I hadn’t even thought of it. And now of course, I saw as a vampire and could not even remember those key gradations of mortal vision in my brief Faustian youth.
Aaron then laid down his feelings that the full report on this incident must not be placed in the Files of the Talamasca, which were open to all.
“It is plain to see from David’s transformation,” he wrote in so many words, “that body switching is entirely possible when one is dealing with skilled individuals, and what arouses my horror is not David’s present occupation of this splendid young body, but the manner in which the body was stolen from its original owner by that one whom we shall call the Body Thief, for sinister purposes of the thief’s own.”
Aaron went on to explain that he would endeavor to put these pages directly into the hands of the Elders of the Talamasca.
But for tragic reasons, obviously, this had never been done.
There came a final series of paragraphs comprising about three pages, handwritten a little more formally than what had gone before.
David’s Disappearance was written at the top. Lestat was referred to merely as TVL. And this time, Aaron’s phrasing reflected considerably more caution and some sadness.
He described how I had vanished on the island of Barbados, without leaving any message for anyone, abandoning my suitcases, typewriter, books, and pages, which he, Aaron, had gone to retrieve.
How dreadful that must have been for Aaron, picking up the trash of my life, with no word of apology from me.
“Were I not so busy with the matters of the Mayfair Witches,” he wrote, “perhaps this disappearance would never have occurred. I might have been more attentive to D. during his time of transition. I might have held him more firmly in my affections and thereby earned more surely his complete trust. As it is, I can only surmise what has become of him, and I fear that he has met with spiritual catastrophe quite against his will.
“Undoubtedly he will contact me. I know him too well to think otherwise. He will come to me. He will—whatever his state of mind, and I cannot possibly imagine it—come to me to give me some solace, if nothing else.”
It hurt me so deeply to read this that I stopped and put the pages aside. For a moment, I was aware only of my own failing, my own terrible failing, my own cruel failing.
But there were two more pages, and I had to read them. Finally I picked them up and read Aaron’s last notes.
I wish that I could appeal to the Elders directly for help. I wish that after my many years in the Talamasca I had complete faith in our Order, and complete faith that the authority of the Elders is for the best. However, our Order, insofar as I know, is made up of fallible mortal men and women. And I cannot appeal to anyone without placing in his or her hands knowledge which I do not want to share.
The Talamasca in recent months has had its internal troubles aplenty. And until the whole question of the identity of the Elders, and the certainty of communication with them, has been resolved, this report must remain in my hands.
Meanwhile nothing can shake my faith in D., or my belief in his basic goodness. Whatever corruption we might have suffered in the Talamasca never tainted David’s ethics, or those of many like him, and though I cannot yet confide in them, I do take comfort from the fact that David may appear to them if not to me.
Indeed, my faith in David is so great that sometimes my mind plays tricks on me, and I think I see him though I soon realize I am wrong. I search crowds for him in the evening. I have gone back to Miami to look for him. I have sent out my call to him telepathically. And I have no doubt that one night very soon, David will respond, if only to say farewell.
The pain I felt