"No, if I found her, we would all of us be together. "
"Oh, that's too lovely," she said.
"I know it can be that way, I know it can and it will be, all of us together, you and she and I. She lives, she thrives, she wanders, and there will come a time when you and I will be with her. "
"How do you know that she lives? What if. . . but I don't want my words to hurt you. "
"I have hope that she lives," I said.
"Mael, the fair one, he told you. "
"No. Mael knows nothing of her. Nothing. I don't believe I ever spoke one sacred word of her to Mael. I have no love for Mael. I have not called out to him in these terrible nights of suffering to aid us. I would not have him see me as I am now. "
"Don't be angry," she said soothingly. "Don't feel the pain of it. I understand. You were speaking softly of the woman. . . . "
"Yes," I said. "Perhaps I know that she lives because I know that she would never destroy herself without first finding me and making certain that she had taken her leave of me, and not having found me, and having no proof that I am lost, she can't do it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I do," she said. She crept closer to me, but she understood when with my gloved hand I touched her gently and moved her away.
"What was the woman's name?" she asked.
"Pandora," I said.
"I shall never be jealous of her," she said softly.
"No, you must never but how can you say such a thing so quickly? How do you know? "
She answered calmly, sweetly.
"You speak too reverently of her for me to be jealous," she said, "and I know that you can love both of us, because you loved Amadeo and me. I saw this with my own eyes. "
"Oh, yes, you are so right," I said. I was almost weeping. I thought in my secret heart of Botticelli, the man himself standing in his studio staring at me, wondering helplessly what sort of strange patron I was, and never dreaming that my hunger and adoration were commingled, never dreaming of a danger which had come so close.
"It's almost dawn," she said. "I feel cold now. And nothing matters. Do you feel the same way?"
"Soon we will leave here," I said in answer, "and we will have golden lamps around us. And a hundred fine candles. Yes, one hundred white candles. And we'll be warm where there is snow. "
"Ah, my love," she said softly. "I believe in you with my soul. "
The next night we hunted once more and this time as if it were to be our last in Venice. There seemed no end to the blood I could imbibe.
And without confiding it to Bianca, I was eternally listening for Santino's brigands, quite certain that at any moment they might return.
Long after I had brought her back for safekeeping in the golden room, and seen her nestled there amid her bundles of clothes and soft burning candles, I went out to hunt again, moving swiftly over the rooftops, and catching the worst and stronge
st of the killers of the city.
I wondered that my hunger did not bring some reign of peace to Venice, so savage was I in cleaning out those bent upon evil. And when I was done with blood I went to the secret places in my burnt-out palazzo and gathered the gold which others hadn't been able to find.
Finally, I went to the very highest roof that I could discover and I looked out over Venice, and I said my farewell to it. My heart was broken and I did not know what would restore it.
My Perfect Time had ended for me in agony. It had ended for Amadeo in disaster. And perhaps it had ended for my fair Bianca as well.
At last I knew from my gaunt and blackened limbs¡ªso little healed by so many kills¡ªthat I must press on to Those Who Must Be Kept, and I must share the secret with Bianca, for young as she was, I had no real choice.
It faintly excited me in my crushing misery that I could share the secret at last. Oh, what a terrible thing it was to put such a weight upon such tender shoulders, but I was weary of the pain and the loneliness. I had been conquered. And I only wanted to reach the shrine with Bianca in my arms.
Chapter 27