"And if I do it with a bit of ceremony?" he asked.
"Why not?" I remembered the description of the making of Armand, how he'd taken the young Armand into a painted room in his Venetian palace and there amid blazing multicolored murals he had made him, offering the blood as sacrament with the most appropriate words. So different from my own making, that ruthless Magnus who was now a wise ghost, but had been then a warped and vile blood drinker, tormenting me as he brought me over.
I had to stop thinking of all this. I was bone tired, as mortals say. I rose to go. But then I stopped.
"If we are to be one tribe now," I said. "If we are to be a true sodality, then we can and should perhaps have our own ceremonies, rites, trappings, some way of surrounding with solemn enthusiasm the birth of others into our ranks. So do it as you wish and make a precedent, perhaps, that will endure."
He smiled.
"Allow me one innovation at the start," he said, "that I perform the rites with Pandora, who is nearly my same age, and very skilled at making others, obviously. We will share the making of each between us so that my gifts will go into both Rose and Viktor, and her gifts will go into both as well. Because you see, I cannot really bring both of them over perfectly at the same time on my own."
"Of course, as you wish," I said. "I leave this in your hands."
"And then it can be done with grace and solemnity for both at the same time."
I nodded. "And if they emerge from this telepathically deaf to one another, and deaf to both of you?"
"So be it. There's a wisdom in it. Let them have their silence in which to lea
rn. When has telepathy really done us any great measure of good?"
I gave my assent.
I was at the door when he spoke again.
"Lestat, be careful with this Voice!" he said.
I turned around and looked at him.
"Don't be your usual impulsive self in lending this thing a sympathetic ear."
He stood and left the table, appealing to me with his arms out.
"Lestat, no one is insensible to what this thing endures in the body of one with dimmed eyes and stopped ears, a thing that can't move, can't write, can't think, can't speak. We know."
"Do you?"
"Give Seth and Fareed time, as long as the thing is quiet, to ponder this."
"What? The making of a ghastly machine?"
"No, but possibly some vehicle can yet be found--some fledgling brought over for the very purpose, with senses and faculties intact, but with little intellect or sanity at stake, and with a physicality--as a fledgling--that can be controlled."
"And this fledgling would be kept a prisoner, of course."
"Inevitably," he said. His arms dropped to his sides.
Inside me the Voice gave a long low agonized sigh.
"Lestat, if it's in your mind, it's going to go for your mind. And you must call us, all of us, to your aid if this thing begins to push you to the brink."
"I know that, Marius," I said. "I've never known myself, but I know when I'm not myself. That is certain."
He gave a soft despairing smile and shook his head.
I went out.
I went back to the French library.