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"Well, then. Let's go to it," I said aloud. "Amel is inside me, and has been since I woke. But he's not speaking. I expected as much."
Fareed smiled, but his manner was grave.
"This is it!" he whispered. "I want to record everything. The hidden cameras are on in the Council Chamber. And don't worry, I've already told them this."
The ballroom was fully lighted such as I'd seldom if ever seen it, with the electrical chandeliers and the candelabra on every mantel burning away.
The spectacular visitors were gathered in an area of damask couches and armchairs to the left of the harpsichord and in front of where the orchestra usually assembled, ranged comfortably about and in hushed conversation with Seth and Gregory, or so it appeared. Sevraine and Marius stood to one side, eyes following me as I entered. And from the far door, in came David Talbot with Gremt, Teskhamen, and Armand.
Armand came up to me, and put his hand on my arm. He sent his message telepathically but decisively. I am telling you, be prepared to destroy them one and all. Then he moved away as if he'd said nothing to me, and given me no sign.
It seemed all the Children of the Night had dressed for the occasion in the usual assortment of gowns, thawbs, and three-piece suits. I was in my usual red velvet and lace, and Armand wore the same extravagant style in shades of blue. Only our tall riding boots looked out of place, but these boots had become the common wear of all those who regularly took to the air, and it was not at all strange to see a blood drinker dressed to the nines, save for muddy boots, and so it was the case now.
I wondered how all this calculated and lavish eighteenth-century atmosphere appeared to our guests--decadent or beautiful, offensive or tasteful.
The eight visitors were in fashionable sports attire, the males in tweed or leather jackets, and clean pressed jeans, while the two women wore long sleek form-fitting black dresses, with spectacular and very bright twenty-four-karat gold jewelry and strappy gleaming high-heeled shoes. All appeared to be slightly cold, and trying to politely conceal it. I ordered the heat in the room to be increased immediately.
All rose when I approached--and as I made my way across the polished parquet floor slowly, I ascertained two things at once: their minds were impenetrable by telepathy, which Arion had already indicated, and they seemed in no way instinctively frightened of us as mortals usually are and they did not exude either distrust or menace. In sum, all the tiny indications of aggression in humans were absent from them. No human being can feel the texture of our skin, or look on it closely in bright light, without experiencing some sort of frisson. Sometimes the instinctive fear is so great the human panics and backs away whether intending to or not. But this distinguished party was surrounded by us, and they appeared to be experiencing absolutely nothing hormonal or instinctual or visceral.
They certainly weren't humans. I didn't even think they were mammals, though that is what they appeared to be--two women and six men.
They were all brown skinned but in varying tones from the darkest, Welf and Welftu, to the bronze-skinned women. All had black hair streaked with gold, or black hair heavily streaked with gold. In other words, they appeared to be what the world calls black people, regardless of the differing tones of their skin. And all wore their hair parted in the middle and long to the shoulders which gave them a sort of consecrated look as if they were members of some special sect.
"Our Prince," said Fareed, adding, "He's eager to welcome you."
I nodded and I was smiling because I always smiled at moments like this, but I was registering everything.
Fareed was absolutely right about the group including clones. It was easy to see this due to the skin tone and the hair if nothing else.
Overall, I could find no recognizable ethnic traits in their features, nothing that resembled any known African or Indian or Australian tribe. Welf had a full African mouth, but did not look African otherwise. They didn't look Polynesian or Sentinelese particularly. But of course Seth or Arion or any of the elders might be seeing something I couldn't see. In sum, they might have come from a time before the ethnic traits we see today in various parts of the world had started to develop.
"I want you to feel comfortable and safe in my house," I said in English. "I'm relieved you made it here without mishap."
There were immediate nods and murmurs of thanks. Each in turn took my hand as I offered it. Silky skin, flawless skin, like a fabric of superb manufacture. And they had the special beauty of dark-skinned people, a near polished and sculpted look.
All possessed similar expressions of high intelligence and inveterate curiosity, and they were truly all completely without fear.
They were slightly smaller than I expected. Even the taller of the males--Garekyn and Garetu, who were about my height--were thin with delicate bones. They were impeccably groomed and shining clean the way affluent mortals are in these times. And I picked up the scent of expensive perfumes, of the inevitable soaps and shower gels. And blood, yes, blood, abundant blood, blood being pumped strongly through their bodies, blood infusing them as blood infuses the bodies of mortals, creating a wave of desire in me, and once again in my mind that stubborn desire for innocent blood.
I welcomed each one of them individually, repeating the name that was offered. Garekyn, the accused murderer, looked no different from the others. He made no apology, but he showed no arrogance either. And when the woman Kapetria received my handshake last, she smiled and said:
"You live up to your legend, Prince." There was no accent to her English. "You're as handsome now as you ever looked in your music videos. I know all your old songs by heart."
That meant she knew everything. She'd read the memoirs, listened to Benji's broadcasts, of course, and she knew the story and mythology of our entire tribe.
"Ah, my rock music adventures," I said. "You're too kind, but thank you."
"I'm very glad you've agreed to receive us," she said. "I'm eager to tell you all about us--why we were sent here, and when and what happened."
This struck me as a remarkable statement.
"I'm impressed," I said frankly. "Very impressed. This is a great opportunity."
"Yes," she replied. "An opportunity."
"And you've been well treated, had a meal and time to rest?" I asked. This was a verbal gesture because I knew the answer, but they eagerly replied with nods and murmurs that it was a reception beyond their expectations, with Kapetria again speaking to me on behalf of the group.
"We found the entire village charming," she said with an easy and radiant smile. "We hadn't expected to be able to use our computers and cell phones here. We hadn't expected such interesting shops, and all this so far off the beaten path."
