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moving air was caressing. And when there came from the softly
lighted city beyond a chorus of dim church bells ringing the hour, they
did not mark the passage of mortal time. They were only the purest
music, and I lay stunned, my mouth open, as I stared at the passing
clouds. But in my chest I started to feel a new pain, very hot and
mercurial. It moved through my veins, tightened about my head, and
then seemed to collect itself in my bowels and belly. I narrowed my
eyes. I cocked my head to one side. I realized I wasn't afraid of this
pain, rather I was feeling it as if I were listening to it. And I saw the
cause of it then. My waste was leaving me in a small torrent. I found
myself unable to control it. Yet as I watched the foulness stain my
clothes, this didn't disgust me. Rats creeping into the very room,
approaching this filth on their tiny soundless feet, even these did not
disgust me. These things couldn't touch me, even as they crawled over
me to devour the waste. In fact, I could imagine nothing in the dark,
not even the slithering insects of the grave, that could bring about
revulsion in me. Let them crawl on my hands and face, it wouldn't
matter now. I wasn't part of the world that cringed at such things.
And with a smile, I realized that I was of the dark ilk that makes others
cringe. Slowly and with great pleasure, I laughed. And yet my grief
was not entirely gone from me. It lingered like an idea, and that idea
had a pure truth to it. I am dead, I am a vampire. And things will die
so that I may live; I will drink their blood so that I may live. And I will
never, never see Nicolas again, nor my mother, nor any of the humans
I have known and loved, nor any of my human family. I'll drink
blood. And I'll live forever. That is exactly what will be. And what
will be is only beginning; it is just born! And the labor that brought it
forth was rapture such as I have never known. I climbed to my feet. I
felt myself light and powerful, and strangely numbed, and I went to
the dead fire, and walked through the burnt timbers. There were no
bones. It was as if the fiend had disintegrated. What ashes I could
gather in my hands I took to the window. And as the wind caught
them, I whispered a farewell to Magnus, wondering if he could yet
hear me. At last only charred logs were left and the soot that I wiped
71
up with my hands and dusted off into the darkness. It was time now
to examine the inner room.
5
The stone moved out easily enough, as I'd seen before, and it had a
hook on the inside of it by which I could pull it closed behind me. But
to get into the narrow dark passage I had to lie on my belly. And when
I dropped down on my knees and peered into it, I could see no visible
light at the end. I didn't like the look of it. I knew that if I'd been
mortal still, nothing could have induced me to crawl into a passage
like this. But the old vampire had been plain enough in telling me the
sun could destroy me as surely as the fire. I had to get to the coffin.
And I felt the fear coming back in a deluge. I got down flat on the
ground, and crawled as a lizard might into the passage. As I feared, I
could not really raise my head. And there was no room to turn and
reach for the hook in the stone. I had to slip my foot into the hook
and crawl forward to pull the stone behind me. Total darkness. With
room to rise only a few inches on my elbows. I gasped, and the fear
welled and I almost went mad thinking about the fact that I couldn't
raise my head and finally I smacked it against the stone and lay still,
whimpering. But what was I to do? I must reach the coffin. So telling
myself to stop this whining, I commenced to crawl, faster and faster.
My knees scraped the stone. My hands sought crevices and cracks to
pull me along. My neck ached with the strain as I struggled not to try
to lift my head again in panic. And when my hand suddenly felt solid
stone ahead, I pushed upon it with all my strength. I felt it move as a
pale light seeped in. I scrambled out of the passage, and found myself
standing in a small room. The ceiling was low, curved, and the high
window was narrow with the familiar heavy grid of iron bars. But the
sweet, violet light of the night poured in revealing a great fireplace cut
in the far wall, the wood ready for the torch, and beside it, beneath the
window, an ancient stone sarcophagus. My red velvet fur-lined cape
lay over the sarcophagus. And on a rude bench I glimpsed a splendid [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]