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"No," he said at once, and then hesitated, but then shook his head and said softly that he did not.
"She never spoke the name?"
"She spoke of Mother; she was a little girl. "
"Think again," she said. "Go back, go back to those earliest nights with her; go back to when she babbled as children babble, before her womanly voice replaced those memories in your heart. Go back. What is the name of her mother? I need it. "
"I don't know it," he confessed. "I don't think she ever¡ª. But I didn't listen, you see, the woman was dead. That's how I found her, alive, clinging to the corpse of her mother. " I could see that he was defeated. Rather helplessly he looked at Merrick.
Merrick nodded. She looked down and then she looked to him again, and her voice was especially kind as she spoke.
"There is something else," she said. "You're holding something back. "
Again, he seemed exceedingly distressed.
"How so?" he asked abjectly. "What can you mean?"
"I have her written page," said Merrick. "I have the doll she kept when she might have destroyed it. But you hold on to something else. "
"Oh, but I can't," he said, his dark brows knotting. He reached into his coat and brought out the small daguerreotype in its gutter perche case. "I can't give it over to be destroyed, I can't," he whispered.
"You think you'll cherish it afterwards?" asked Merrick in a consoling voice. "Or you think our magic fire will fail?"
"I don't know," he confessed. "I know only that I want it. " He moved the tiny clasp and opened the small case and looked down until he seemed unable to bear what he saw, and then he closed his eyes.
"Give it to me for my altar," said Merrick. "I promise it will not be destroyed. "
He didn't move or answer. He simply allowed her to take the picture from his hands. I watched her. She was amazed by it, the ancient image of a vampire, captured forever so dimly in the fragile silver and glass.
"Ah, but she was lovely, wasn't she?" asked Louis.
"She was many things," said Merrick. She shut the little gutter perche case, but she did not move the small gold clasp. She laid the daguerreotype in her lap with the doll and the page from the diary, and with both hands reached for Louis's right hand again.
She opened his palm beneath the lamplight.
She drew up as if she was shocked.
"Never have I seen a life line such as this," she whispered. "It's deeply graven, look at it, there is no end to it really," she turned his hand this way and that, "and all the small lines have long ago melted away. "
"I can die," he answered with a polite defiance. "I know I can," he said sadly. "I shall when I've got the courage. My eyes will close forever, like those of every mortal of my time who ever lived. "
She didn't answer. She looked down into his open palm again. She felt of the hand, and I could see her loving its silky skin.
"I see three great loves," she whispered, as if she needed his permission to say it aloud. "Three deep loves in all this time. Lestat? Yes. Claudia. Most assuredly. And who is the other? Can you tell me that?"
He was in a state of complete confusion as he looked at her, but he hadn't the strength to answer. The color flared in his cheeks and his eyes seemed to flash as if a light inside them had increased its incandescence.
She let his hand go, and she blushed.
Quite suddenly, he looked to me, exactly as if he'd suddenly remembered me again and he needed me desperately. I had never seen him so agitated or seemingly vital. No one entering the room would have known him to be anything but a compelling young man.
"Are you for it, old friend?" he asked. "Are you ready for it to begin?"
She looked up, her own eyes watering faintly, and she seemed to pick me out of the shadows and then to give the smallest, most trusting smile.
"What's your counsel, Superior General?" she asked in a muted voice, filled with conviction.
"Don't mock me," I said, because it made me feel good to say it. I was not surprised to see the quick flash of pain in her eyes.
