The Story of the Vampire, L (Completed | Featured )

Part 18 - New Songs

 And have you called my darling? Does he come? Say that he does. How came I by him? Does this have to do with my child? It does not. I will tell you what you want to know.

All children seek their masters in time.

Another child, of Greece, came to me in the Hercynian, and drew me out, and I went with him to a great city. Which? Does it matter? For some time I lived there, in an apartment, another one, and he would bring me children to care for, and kissed my forehead, as if I had lost my mind. I would stroke his hair, so like mine, and whisper his name, "Kallines," and he would say "You are no different," and I would ache a little. I do not care about it.

And then in the evening, long after this child had left, I heard my door softly open, and when I opened my eyes, it was my pale steward. "I have come to care for you, Faya," he whispered, and came to me, sitting in my chair, where I had been dozing in the cool breeze of evening. He knelt on the floor at my knees, and pressed his hands to my hands. He took a breath in to speak, and I touched his pale hair, which was just the same.

"Vivi," I told him. "I have not wished for you."

"I know that, and I have no news, but if you will have me I would stay," his voice steady though earnest, and I knew that he was grown, and well.

He sat up then, waiting, and I took his hair in my hand, because he did not seem real to me, and twisted it, pinned it with one of my pins. He made a sound as if he were choking, and remained very still, looking up into my face.

"Are you well put by?" he asked me. "Do you have all that you need?"

When I didn't speak, he went on.

"Vasvius and I, we traveled long. We lived in the north. We parted on good terms. He never wanted to speak of you, sir, but I must. I must come. Do you see that? Do you understand my words? What language should I speak that you will understand best?"

When I didn't speak at that, he sat quietly, cheek pressed to my knee, to the cotton fabric of my robe. I twined my fingers with his, and he held onto them tightly.

"Say so many words," I whispered, at length. "If you will stay, keep peace. Quiet."

"Do you hurt, sir?"

"I do. My head. Peace," I told him. Because my head did hurt me in those days. I had been without knowledge of the world for a long time, and without its flesh, or its comfort.

"Do you know the year?" he asked me, voice much quieted.

"I do not."

"Who pays for this place, sir? Is he a danger to me?"

"I do not know. Where am I living?" I asked him.

"Where, sir? This is Vienna."

"Vienna? Where is this?"

He kissed the back of my hand gently, and touched the mark his lips left. "You may know it as Vindobona. But it is a powerful city now, these many centuries, no frontier place." He kissed my hand again, touched where my ring had been, which I had always worn when he was living. "Your ring. You've lost it?"

"I did not lose it. I gave it to Escha."

He rubbed my hand between his, as if it were cold.

"The year," I said to him.

"1740," he said. "So they call it."

At the expression on my face he rose, and went behind my chair to help me up. I gave him a wondering look, stricken. My breath came to me suddenly in a rush and I could not keep it inside of me.