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"It can't hurt you. It would have already-"
The short, derisive laugh again, barely audible. A telepathic laugh?
"Your faith touches me as always, but don't be my acolyte just now. The thing is not omnipotent. It can't move with infinite speed. You have to understand the choice I've made. We're going to him because there isn't any other safe place to go. It has found rogues in far-flung places and burnt them to ashes-"
"And because you want to be with Lestat. "
No answer.
"You know you do. You want to see him. You want to be there if he needs you. If there's going to be a battle . . . "
No answer.
"And if Lestat caused it, maybe he can stop it. "
Still Armand didn't answer. He appeared confused.
"It is simpler than that," he said finally. "I have to go. "
The plane seemed a thing suspended on a spume of sound. Daniel looked drowsily at the ceiling, at the light moving.
To see Lestat at last. He thought of Lestat's old house in New Orleans. Of the gold watch he'd recovered from the dusty floor. And now it was back to San Francisco, back to the beginning, back to Lestat. God, he wanted the bourbon. Why wouldn't Armand give it to him? He was so weak. They'd go to the concert, he'd see Lestat-
But then the sense of dread came again, deepening, the dread which the dreams inspired. "Don't let me dream any more of them," he whispered suddenly.
He thought he heard Armand say yes.
Suddenly Armand stood beside the bed. His shadow fell over Daniel. The whale's belly seemed smaller, no more than the light surrounding Armand.
"Look at me, beloved," he said.
Darkness. And then the high iron gates opening, and the moon flooding down on the garden. What is this place?
Oh, Italy, it had to be, with this gentle embracing warm air and a full moon shining down on the great sweep of trees and flowers, and beyond, the Villa of the Mysteries at the very edge of ancient Pompeii.
"But how did we get here!" He turned to Armand, who stood beside him dressed in strange, old-fashioned velvet clothes. For one moment he could do nothing but stare at Armand, at the black velvet tunic he wore and the leggings, and his long curling auburn hair.
"We aren't realty here," Armand said. "You know we aren't. " He turned and walked into the garden towards the villa, his heels making the faintest sound on the worn gray stones.
But it was real! Look at the crumbling old brick walls, and the flowers in their long deep beds, and the path itself with Armand's damp footprints! And the stars overhead, the stars! He turned around and reached up into the lemon tree and broke off a single fragrant leaf.
Armand turned, reached back to take his arm. The smell of freshly turned earth rose from the flower beds. Ah, I could die here.
"Yes," said Armand, "you could. And you will. And you know, I've never done it before. I told you but you never believed me. Now Lestat's told you in his book. I've never done it. Do you believe him?"
"Of course I believed you. The vow you made, you explained everything. But Armand, this is my question, to whom did you make this vow?"
Laughter.
Their voices carried over the garden. Such roses and chrysanthemums, how enormous they were. And light poured from the doorways of the Villa of the Mysteries. Was there music playing? Why, the whole ruined place was brilliantly illuminated under the incandescent blue of the night sky.
"So you would have me break my vow. You would have what you think you want. But look well at this garden, because once I do it, you'll never read my thoughts or see my visions again. A veil of silence will come down. "
"But we'll be brothers, don't you see?" Daniel asked.
Armand stood so close to him they were almost kissing. The flowers were crushed against them, huge drowsing yellow dahlias and white gladioli, such lovely drenching perfume. They had stopped beneath a dying tree in which the wisteria grew wild. Its delicate blossoms shivered in clusters, its great twining arms white as bone. And beyond voices poured out of the Villa. Were there people singing?
"But where are we really?" Daniel asked. "Tell me!"
