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"I hope you're right in your estimation of yourself," she said.
"I don't believe in anything, Mother," I said. "You told Armand long ago that you believe you'll find answers in the great jungles and forests; that the stars will finally reveal a vast truth. But I don't believe in anything. And that makes me stronger than you think. "
"Then why am I so afraid for you?" she asked. Her voice was little more than a gasp. I think I had to see her lips move in order to hear her.
"You sense my loneliness," I answered, "my bitterness at being shut out of life. My bitterness that I'm evil, that I don't deserve to be loved and yet I need love hungrily. My horror that I can never reveal myself to mortals. But these things don't stop me, Mother. I'm too strong for them to stop me. As you said yourself once, I am very good at being what I am. These things merely now and then make me suffer, that's all. "
"I love you, my son," she said.
I wanted to say something about her promising, about the agents in Rome, that she would write. I wanted to say . . .
"Keep your promise," she said.
And quite suddenly I knew this was our last moment. I knew it and I could do nothing to change it.
"Gabrielle!" I whispered.
But she was already gone.
The room, the garden outside, the night itself, were silent and still.
Some time before dawn I opened my eyes. I was lying on the floor of the house, and I had been weeping and then I had slept.
I knew I should start for Alexandria, that I should go as far as I could and then down into the sand when the sun rose. It would feel so good to sleep in the sandy earth. I also knew that the garden gate stood open. That all the doors were unlocked.
But I couldn't move. In a cold silent way I imagined myself looking throughout Cairo for her. Calling her, telling her to come back. It almost seemed for a moment that I had done it, that, thoroughly humiliated, I had run after her, and I had tried to tell her again about destiny: that I had been meant to lose her just as Nicki had been mean
t to lose his hands. Somehow we had to subvert the destiny. We had to triumph after all.
Senseless that. And I hadn't run after her. I'd hunted and I had come back. She was miles from Cairo by now. And she was as lost from me as a tiny grain of sand in the air.
Finally after a long time I turned my head. Crimson sky over the garden, crimson light sliding down the far roof. The sun coming -- and the warmth coming and the awakening of a thousand tiny voices all through the tangled alleyways of Cairo, and a sound that seemed to come out of the sand and the trees and the patch of grass themselves.
And very slowly, as I heard these things, as I saw the dazzle of the light moving on the roof, I realized that a mortal was near.
He was standing in the open gate of the garden, peering at my still form within the empty house. A young fair-haired European in Arab robes, he was. Rather handsome. And by the early light he saw me, his fellow European lying on the tile floor in the abandoned house.
I lay staring at him as he came into the deserted garden, the illumination of the sky heating my eyes, the tender skin around them starting to burn. Like a ghost in a white sheet he was in his clean headdress and robe.
I knew that I had to run. I had to get far away immediately and hide myself from the coming sun. No chance now to go into the crypt beneath the floor. This mortal was in my lair. There was not time enough even to kill him and get rid of him, poor unlucky mortal.
Yet I didn't move. And he came nearer, the whole sky flickering behind him, so that his figure narrowed and became dark.
"Monsieur!" The solicitous whisper, like the woman years and years ago in Notre Dame who had tried to help me before I made a victim of her and her innocent child. "Monsieur, what is it? May I be of help?"
Sunburnt face beneath the folds of the white headdress, golden eyebrows glinting, eyes gray like my own.
I knew I was climbing to my feet, but I didn't will myself to do it. I knew my lips were curling back from my teeth. And then I heard a snarl rise out of me and saw the shock on his face.
"Look!" I hissed, the fangs coming down over my lower lip. "Do you see!"
And rushing towards him, I grabbed his wrist and forced his open hand flat against my face.
"Did you think I was human?" I cried. And then I picked him up, holding him off his feet before me as he kicked and struggled uselessly. "Did you think I was your brother?" I shouted. And his mouth opened with a dry rasping noise, and then he screamed.
I hurled him up into the air and out over the garden, his body spinning round with arms and legs out before it vanished over the shimmering roof.
The sky was blinding fire.
