After being in the button shop with Madeleine and Claudia for a little less than what seemed like an hour I left them to find Louis and Armand.
I wanted desperately to talk to him. There was so much I wanted to tell him. And yet I didn't know what to say. I didn't know where they were now, only that in my wanderings I'd passed here before, a street of ancient mansions. I found them sitting atop a garden wall. I wasn't sure what frightened me more, the climb itself or the notion of being seen as a ghost.
Armand and Louis were atop the wall now. Armand's arm was against the overhanging bough of a tree. His hand reached for me. In an instant I stood beside him, the wet foliage brushing my face. Above, I could see story after story rising to a lone tower that barely emerged from the dark rain.
"We were just about to climb the tower," Armand said with a smile, "Glad you could join us.
"I cannot," Louis gasped.
"Why not," I questioned him.
"It's impossible," he sighed.
I laughed lightly, softly. "Nothing is impossible for us," I reminded him, "especially with our powers. We are not mere humans anymore. We can do it."
"You don't begin to know your own powers. You can climb easily." Armand reminded us.
"What if we fall," I question.
"Remember if you fall you will not be injured," Armand reminded us.
We were all silent for a moment. Then I asked, "What do we do so that we are not spotted by the humans in the house," I asked cautiously.
"Do as I do. But note this. The inhabitants of this house have known me for a hundred years and think of a spirit, so if by chance they see you, or you see them through those windows, remember what they believe you to be and show no consciousness of them lest you disappoint them or confuse them. Do you hear?"
'Yes," I said, "But are we safe doing this. Letting humans see us, even if they do think that we are something else?"
"You are perfectly safe," Armand reassured us.
I had no time for comforting witticisms, even to myself. Armand had begun, his boots finding the crack between the stones.
I inserted my right boot into a crack and began to climb as well, my hands sure as claws in the crevices; and Louis was moving after me, tight to the wall.
I took a moment to look down at Louis and clung for a moment to rest on a thick arch over a window.
Louis caught up with me very quickly. He glimpsed inside the house for a second and then continued to climb.
I looked inside the window and saw a licking fire. There was a person inside the house, but he had just left the room to get more fire wood for the night. I knew we had to hurry up to the tower before he came outside and saw us climbing up his wall, gone. Higher and higher we climbed, until we reached the window of the tower itself, which Armand had already wrenched open. Louis rose up after him.
I sighed as I reached the window and Armand wrapped his arm out around my shoulders to help me through the window.
Louis stood in the room, rubbing the backs of his arms, looking around the wet strange place. The rooftops were silver below, treetops rising here and there through the huge, rustling treetops; and far off glimmered the broken chain of a lighted boulevard where Claudia and Madeleine were shopping. The room seemed as damp as the night outside.
"It's cold in here," I commented, seeing Louis rubbing his arms, "can we make a fire?"
Armand nodded. From a molding pile of furniture he was picking chairs, breaking them into wood easily despite the thickness of their rungs. There was something grotesque about him. He did what any vampire could do, cracking these thick pieces of wood into splinters, yet he did what only a vampire could do. And there seemed nothing human about him, yet drew me to him and his handsome features
I grabbed a table from the pile of furniture and began breaking it into wood as well. He stopped me once we only had two oak chairs left. I was not surprised that, when he finished, he set a heavy oak chair down for Louis and me but retired himself to the marble mantelpiece and sat there warming his hands over the fire, the flames throwing red shadows into his face.
I sat the chair dangerously close to the fire and began to warm my own hands as well. I could hear the inhabitants of the house. The warmth was good. I could feel the leather of my boots drying.
"I can hear the inhabitants of the house," Louis said to Armand. Louis put his feet close to the fire so that they could dry as well.
"I can hear them as well," I echoed.
"Then you know that I can hear them," Armand said softly; and though this didn't contain a hint of a reproach, I read the implications of his words.
"And if they come," Louis insisted. He had begun to study Armand's dark hair.
"Will they come," I questioned Armand.
"Can't you tell by my manner that they won't come," Armand asked.
"What shall we speak of tonight then," I questioned softly.
"We could sit here all night and never speak of them. I want you to know that if we speak of them it is because you want to do so. They have long ago sealed off this tower," Armand said gently.
Louis said nothing and looked a little defeated. As Armand spoke more to Louis about how the tower was left and how he found it, I could see that there were several shelves of books at one side of the fireplace. So I ventured over and began to look at them. I took out a book about ghost stories and began to read it. "No wonder none of the inhabitants of this house will come up here in the night," I mused to myself as I read the tales, "They would be too scared out of their wits." I continued to look around the room. There was everything we would ever need in this tower. "We could live here if we wanted to," I commented softly to myself.
"You see," Armand said, "you really have no need of the rooms you have at the hotel."
"What do we need," I questioned curiously. I myself felt that I needed everything that I owned within the hotel.
"You really have need of very little," Armand explained, "but each f us must decide how much he or she wants."
"You spoke of the people in this house before," I questioned, "And they just think you are a spirit?"
"These people in this house have a name for me, encounters with me cause talk for twenty years," Armand laughed.
"Yet these humans mean nothing to you," I questioned curiously.
"They are only isolated instants in my time which mean nothing," Armand shrugged.
"They can't hurt you," I questioned softly.
"They cannot hurt me, and I use their house to be alone," Armand shrugged.
"How could you be alone if you have a whole coven at the theatre," I questioned.
"No one of the theatres des Vampires knows of my coming here," Armand shrugged again.
"So it's our secret," I questioned.
"This is my secret," Armand nodded.
Louis watched him intently as he was speaking. It looked like he was thinking. After all, not all vampires age.
I lost myself in thoughts about how his youthful face might differ now from what he had been more than a century before. His face was powerfully expressive. I was as powerfully drawn to him as before.
'"If you keep secrets from the theatres des Vampires, then why do you go back to them," I questioned curiously.
"But what holds you to the Theatres des Vampires," Louis asked.
"A need," Armand replied with a shrug," Naturally. But I've found what I need. Why do you shun me?"
Louis looked at Armand and met his gaze. They stared at each other for a few minutes. I could hear Louis's heart beat speeding up slightly. Was he excited? About what?
"I never shunned you," Louis said, trying to hide the excitement that Armand had spoken to him had produced.
"Then why do you spend so much time with Claudia and not with Armand," I questioned curiously, although I was almost guilty of doing the same thing within these past few months.
"You understand I have to protect Claudia, that she has no one but me. Or at least she had no one until…"
"Until you turned Madeleine," I confirmed.
"Until Madeleine came to live with you," Armand questioned.
"Yes," Louis said.
'Now that Claudia has Madeleine though, she has released you," I commented softly.
"But now Claudia has released you, yet still you stay with her," Armand questioned.
"You stay with her as if you are bund with her," I confirmed.
"Bound to her as your paramour," Armand finished.
"Is Claudia a paramour," I questioned.
"No," Louis confirmed.
"She's not a paramour," I asked again.
"She's no paramour of mine; you don't understand," Louis said, "Remember, she's my child."
"But I am your child and you have already released me much more than you have released Claudia," I objected.
Louis interrupted me "It's not that I have released you. I have not released you from my mind and my thoughts. I just don't know that she can release me just yet."
"Why not," I questioned him, "why has she not released you?"
"I don't know if the child possesses the power to release the parent," Louis admitted.
"When do you think she will possess that power," I questioned curiously. I began to think about my own relationship with Louis. Have I released him yet? Has he released me? "Are you going to be bound to her forever?"
"I don't know that I won't be bound to her for as long as she…" Louis began. Louis stopped. It was silent for a few minutes.
"You mean as long as she lives," I questioned, "That's rather hollow words. After all, she's not living anymore. She is going to live forever as I will live forever and as you will live forever. Daughters live forever because their fathers die first."
Louis was at a loss suddenly.
Armand all the while listened, and he listened in the way that we dream of others listening, his face seeming to reflect on everything said. He did not start forward to seize on Louis's slight pause.
I did not assert an understanding of anything before any thought was finished, the things which often make dialogue impossible.
And after a long interval he said, "I want you," to Louis.
"What did you say," I questioned as I looked over at him. I could not believe my ears. He wanted Louis? My Louis? I was jealous that he did not want me but at the same time, I knew that I wanted Louis too. I was afraid that he would want Armand instead of me. I loved Armand and wanted him as much as I wanted Louis, and I could never choose between them. But could Louis choose between me and Armand? I wanted him more than anything in the universe.
"I want you more than anything in the world," Armand repeated to Louis.
For a moment I doubted what I'd heart. It struck me as unbelievable. And I was disarmed by it. "Say that one more time," I requested.
"I said that I want you," Armand repeated, with only a subtle change of expression.
"More than anything," I asked.
"I want you more than anything in the world," Armand repeated with a little bit more change of expression. And then he sat, waiting. He watched Louis, his face as tranquil as always, his smooth, white forehead beneath the shock of his auburn hair without a trace of care, his large eyes reflecting on Louis, his lips still.
"What do you want," I asked Louis softly.
"I simply want to know things," Louis shrugged.
"You want this of me, yet you don't come to me," Armand said, "These are things you want to know, and you don't ask."
"Is this because of Claudia," I questioned.
"You see Claudia slipping away from you," Armand commented.
"Claudia slipping away is within our power, isn't it," I asked, wondering if there was anything that I could do to keep Claudia from slipping away from me.
"You seem powerless to prevent it, and then you would hasten it, and yet you do nothing," Armand spoke to Louis. He looked at me, "It is within your power. But you must take hold of your own emotions before you can have that power."
"I don't understand my own feelings," Louis admitted.
I looked at Louis. I could clearly see the emotions on his face. His face has always been so expressive that I could read it almost like a book. There was love and yet sorrow and worry on his face. I could tell he was thinking about Claudia. What Armand had said made him think about how Claudia is slipping away from him.
"Perhaps they are clearer to you than they are to me," Louis sighed.
"You don't begin to know what a mystery you are," Armand exclaimed.
"But do you know your own self," I asked Louis.
"I can't claim that. But at least you know yourself thoroughly," He sighed to Armand.
"Do you know the people that you love," I asked, "do you know me? Do you know Armand? Do you know Claudia?"
"I love her," Louis cried.
"But are you close to her," I asked. Because it seemed like they were slipping farther and farther away.
"I am not close to her," Louis sighed.
"What do you mean by that," I asked Louis, "is it different when we are here with Armand than when we are with Claudia herself?"
"I mean that when I am with Armand as I am now, I know that I know nothing of her," Louis gasped.
"Do you know anything," I asked.
"I know nothing of her, nothing of anyone," Louis admitted.
"But she's not nothing," I acknowledged, "She must be something to you."
"She's an era for you," Armand confirmed.
"You mean she's just a small part of our lives," I asked. She seemed to be so much more to me.
"She's an era of your life," Armand confirmed, "If and when you break with her, you break with the only one alive who has shared that time with you."
"But what if we don't want that to happen," I questioned, "What if I never want to break with Louis? What if I want to spend more than one part of my life with him?" I ran to Louis and leapt into his lap. I hugged him tightly. I was afraid of losing Louis. I never wanted to lose him. I was afraid of being alone.
"Your fear that, the isolation of it, the burden, the scope of eternal life," Armand sighed.
Louis hugged me to him. "Yes, that's true." He admitted, "But that's only a small part of it."
"Does the Era mean anything to us," I questioned, "An era is merely a compilation of events and experiences."
"The era, it doesn't mean much to me," Louis admitted.
"Why not," I questioned. We were all silent for a while. Finally I admitted, "It has meant something to me. It means so much to me because of the people who have been with me during this era of my immortal life."
"She made it mean something," Louis nodded in agreement.
"I'm sure Claudia would say the same thing about us," I guessed with a shrug.
"Other vampires must experience this and survive it, the passing of a hundred eras," Louis gasped softly.
"But they don't survive it," Armand said.
"Why not," I questioned, "How do you know this?"
"The world would be choked with vampires if they survived it,"Armand stated, "How you think I come to be the eldest here or anywhere," Armand asked.
I thought about this. Then Louis spoke.
"They die by violence," he ventured.
"No, almost never; it isn't necessary," Armand shook his head.
"They die as the times die, as things change. As new things are invented and new ways are invented into the world," I guessed.
"Exactly," He said. He smiled at me. "How many vampires do you think have the stamina for immortality," He asked.
"Maybe one out of three vampires," I guessed with a shrug. "There must be a reason for this though."
"It's because they have the most dismal notions of immortality to begin with," Armand admitted.
"They think that all forms of their lives will be fixed in time, just like they are," I sighed softly.
"For in becoming immortal they want all the forms of their life to be fixed as they are and incorruptible: carriages made in the same dependable fashion," Armand explained.
"I'm sure they don't expect their clothes to change either," I laughed softly.
"Clothing of the cut which suited their prime," Armand nodded.
"I'm sure the male vampires also expect to be able to wear the same clothes they did when they were alive," I laughed out loud, "They don't expect the way they live to change at all. Men are such stubborn creatures to begin with!"
"Men attired and speaking in the manner they have always understood and valued, "Armand continued, "When, in fact, all things change except the vampire himself."
"Everything," I asked. I thought of how many things around me have changed. But did not want everything to change by the time this era was almost over. I did not want my relationship with Louis or Claudia to ever change.
"Everything except the vampire is subject to constant corruption," Armand said.
"But aren't we subject to other things other than corruption," I asked in hope.
"And distortion," Armand shrugged.
"What else happens to your mind during this time," I asked. I was curious what I was getting myself into.
"Soon, with an inflexible mind, and often even with the most flexible mind, this immortality becomes a penitential sentence in a madhouse of figures and forms that are hopelessly unintelligible and without value," Armand sighed softly.
"Then what happens," I asked curiously.
"One evening a vampire rises and realizes what he has feared perhaps for decades," Armand said.
"And what would that be," I asked.
"That he simply wants no more of life at any cost," Armand replied.
"What about the things that we vampires could gain from immortality," I asked, "They must make them want to live at least one more night."
"Whatever style or fashion or shape of existence made immortality attractive to him has been swept off the face of the earth," Armand sighed.
"What about the freedom of it all," I asked, "that surely must have its appeal."
"And nothing remains to offer freedom from despair except the act of killing. And that vampire goes out to die," Armand muttered softly.
"If he dies what will happen to his remains," I asked softly, "won't someone find them?"
"No one will find his remains," Armand replied with a shrug.
"Wont his companions wonder where he is," I asked, thinking about what would happen if I myself or if Claudia or Louis were to go missing.
"No one will know where he has gone," Armand shook his head.
"But if his companions see that he is not handling the new fashions well, then wont they suspect where he has gone," I asked almost in disbelief.
"Often no one around him- should he seek the company of other vampires- no one will know that he is in despair."
"But the way he speaks would give it away, wouldn't it," I asked. I was slowly beginning to believe that possibly Armand was speaking not just from knowledge, but from personal experiences. Maybe he has felt this way at some point in his eras.
"He will have ceased long ago to speak of himself or of anything. He will vanish," Armand sighed.
Louis sat back. It was silent for a few moments.
I sat there watching Armand. I was thinking to myself about all the truths he had just revealed to us. I wondered if Armand's mind had ever thought any of those things. "Could you slip into that state of mind," I asked Armand finally.
"But you wouldn't allow such a state of mind in yourself," Louis found himself answering.
"Why wouldn't I," Armand asked Louis.
"Look at you," Louis gasped, "if there weren't one single work of art left in this world…."
"You yourself look like a work of art," I admitted to Armand with a slight blush, "Then again there are many different forms of art in this world."
"There are thousands," Louis gasped.
"There are many natural beauties within art," I confessed.
"If the world were reduced to one empty cell and but see you studying that candle, absorbed one fragile candle, I can't help in the flicker of its light, the change of its colors…" Louis admitted.
"Would that sustain you," I asked Armand. I did not think that a mere candle could sustain me for more than one night.
"How long could that sustain you," Louis asked.
"Is it even possible that a single candle could sustain you," I asked Armand.
"What possibilities would it create," Louis asked.
"Is Louis right," I asked Armand, "Are there even possibilities within one single candle?"
"Am I wrong," Louis asked.
"Louis, you are beginning to get a little crazed," I whispered softly, "we should allow Armand to answer before we ask him any more questions."
"Am I such a crazed idealist," Louis laughed.
"You are not a crazed idealist," I told Louis as I hugged him.
"No," Armand finally answered. There was a brief smile on his lips, an evanescent flush of pleasure. But then he went on simply, "But you feel an obligation to a world you live in because that world for you is still intact."
"Will it always be intact for us," I asked softly. I was beginning to almost fear the inevitable madness that will surely eventually ensure for me.
"It is conceivable your own sensitivity might become the instrument of madness," Armand sighed softly.
"I am only sensitive to some types of art," I objected, "I do not think that I am quite as sensitive as Louis." I looked back up at him and nestled a little closer to his chest.
"You speak of words of art and natural beauty. I wish I had the artist's power to bring alive for you the Venice of the fifteenth century, my master's palace there, the love I felt for him when I was a mortal boy, and the love he felt for me when he made me a vampire. Oh, if I could make those times come alive for either you or me," Armand trailed off.
Armand looked so sad. I slid out of Louis's lap and went over to Armand. I put my hand on his knee. "You wish that you could go back to those times," I said to Armand.
He looked down at me into my eyes and I saw very small blood tears developing into his eyes. "For only an instant!" he insisted.
"I'm sure that would mean the world to you," I said as I hugged his leg.
He smiled at me. "What would that be worth," he sighed, "and such a sadness it is to me that time doesn't dim the memory of that period."
"Why is it sad," I questioned him, "Don't you have any good memories of that period?"
"It becomes all the richer and more magical in light of the world I see today," Armand sighed.
"But don't you love those memories," I questioned.
"Love," Louis asked.
"There was love between Lestat and me as well as with Louis and me," I confessed softly. Then I asked softly, "Was there any love between you and the vampire who made you?"
"Yes," Armand admitted.
"There was love between you and the vampire who made you," Louis asked as he leaned forward.
"Was it a strong love," I questioned as I leaned on Louis.
"A love so strong he couldn't allow me to grow old and die, a love that waited patiently until I was strong enough to be born to darkness. Do you mean to tell me there was no bond of love between you and the vampire who made you," Armand admitted.
"None," Louis said quickly. He smiled a bit bitterly.
"He did too love you," I argued, "He loved me and he loved you and you know it." I saw that smile on his face.
"Why then did he give you these powers," Armand asked.
Louis sat back, 'you see these powers as a gift," he asked.
"They are the gift that Lestat gave to us," I argued.
"Of course you do," Louis laughed, "forgive me, but it amazes me, how in your complexity you are so profoundly simple." He laughed.
Armand looked at me and asked, "Should I be insulted?"
"No," I sighed softly, "Louis would never insult you."
Armand smiled at me. He seemed so innocent.
"Am I being insulted," Armand asked Louis.
"No, not by me," Louis said, his pulse quickening as he looked at Armand.
"What am I to you that you would never insult me," Armand asked.
"You are innocent," I confessed.
"You're everything I dreamed of when I became a vampire," Louis admitted.
"How so," Armand asked.
"You see these powers as a gift," Louis repeated.
"And you feel love for your makers and for us," I confessed.
"But tell me… do you now feel love for this vampire who gave you eternal life," Louis asked.
He appeared to be thinking then he said slowly, "Yes."
"Do you feel this now," Louis asked.
"Do you still love him," I asked.
"Why does this matter," He asked. But he went on before I could respond. "I don't think I've been fortunate in feeling love for many people or many things. But yes, I love him. Perhaps I do not love him as you mean. It seems you confuse me, rather effortlessly. You are a mystery. I do not need him, this vampire anymore."
"You love him because he gave you a gift," I guessed.
"I was gifted with eternal life, with heightened perception, and with the need to kill," Louis quickly explained, "because the vampire who made me wanted the house I owned and my money."
"He wanted more than that," I sighed, "He wanted you."
Louis shook his head to me. He looked at Armand and asked, "Do you understand such a thing?"
"I do not understand," Armand admitted, "I don't know everything behind your words."
"Ah, but there is so much else behind what I say," Louis admitted.
"I don't even think you know all that is behind those words," I confessed softly.
"It makes itself known to me so slowly, so incompletely," Louis admitted softly.
"It's like simply opening a door to something," I estimated.
"You see, it's as if you've cracked a door for me, and light is streaming from that door and I'm yearning to get to it, to push it back, to enter the region you say exists beyond it," Louis confessed.
"What is keeping you from touching that door," I questioned.
"In fact," Louis sighed, "I don't believe it."
"Why don't you believe it," I asked, "Is it because of Lestat?"
"The vampire who made me was everything that I truly believed evil to be," Louis confessed, " he was as dismal, as literal, as barren, as inevitably eternally disappointing as I believed evil had to be!"
"You didn't used to think that," I muttered.
"I know that now," Louis sighed.
"How does Lestat compare to Armand," I asked. "But you, you are something totally beyond that conception," Louis addressed Armand himself now, "Open the door for me, push it back all the way. Tell me about this palace, this love affair with damnation. I want to understand it."
"You trick yourself," Armand said.
"How so," I questioned.
"The palace means nothing to you," Armand confirmed.
"But what about the doorway," I questioned, "where does that doorway really lead to?"
"The doorway you see leads to me, now. To your coming to live with me, as I am," Armand said.
"And how are you now," I questioned, "Are you evil?"
"I am evil with infinite gradations and without guilt," Armand admitted.
"Yes, exactly," Louis murmured.
"I wouldn't be happy if we were to come with you," I confessed, "I would miss Claudia and Madeleine."
"And this makes you unhappy," Armand said, 'you, who came to me in my cell and said there was only one sin left, the willful taking of an innocent human life."
'Yes," Louis said, "How you must have been laughing at me…."
"He would never laugh at you," I said as I nuzzled Louis's leg.
"I never laughed at you," Louis said,
"Why not," Louis asked.
"I cannot afford to laugh at you," Armand admitted.
"What do you mean," I asked.
"It is through you that I can save myself from the despair which I've described to you as our death. It is through you that I must make my link with this nineteenth century and come to understand it in a way that will revitalize me, which I so desperately need. It is for you that I've been waiting at the Theatre des Vampires. If I know a mortal of that sensitivity, that pain, that focus, I would make him a vampire in an instant. But such can rarely be done. No, I've had to wait and watch for you. And now I'll fight for you. Do you see how ruthless I am in love? Is this what you meant by love," he asked.
"Oh, but you'd be making a terrible mistake," Louis said, looking Armand in the eyes.
Armand's words were slowly sinking in. I could see Louis becoming frustrated. "What mistake is he making," I asked. I looked up at Louis. "Everything he said is true. You are helping us link with this age."
"No. I must make contact with the age," Armand said to him calmly.
"And he needs us in order to do this," I confirmed.
"And I can do this through you," Armand confessed.
"You could learn things through art," I estimated.
"Not to learn things from you which I can see in a moment in an art gallery or read in an hour in the thickest books," Armand added.
"But I bet you could learn a lot from a single page of a thick book," I pointed out.
"You are the spirit, you are the heart," he persisted.
"No," Louis threw up his hands. He gave out a slight hysterical laugh.
"What are you seeing that we don't," I asked.
'No," Louis said, "Don't you see? I'm not the spirit of any age."
"Why can't you be," I asked.
"I'm at odds with everything," Louis argued.
"Since when," I asked. He always seemed more in touch with the age than this.
"I always have been," Louis admitted.
"Even when you are with me," I asked.
"I have never belonged anywhere with anyone at any time," Louis said painfully.
Armand's face brightened with an irresistible smile. He laughed a little, and then his shoulders began to move with laughter for a second. "But Louis," He said softly, "This is the very spirit of your age. Don't you see that?"
"I feel the same way that you do sometimes," I admitted with a shrug, "This past age I have felt so out of touch."
"Everyone else feels as you feel," Armand confirmed.
"You are merely falling from grace," I shrugged.
"Your fall from grace and faith has been the fall of a century," Armand confirmed.
Louis was so stunned. He sat there staring into the fire. It had all but consumed the wood and was a wasteland of smoldering ash, a gray and red landscape that would have collapsed at the touch of the poker.
I inserted a poker and poked it a few times to keep the fire going. The wood was almost gone. "I'm going to go get some more fire wood," I volunteered. As I left I heard Louis say the word 'and.'
