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Once in a century or two perhaps, one crosses the path of a being likeDora. An elegant intelligence and concept of goodness, precisely,and the other thing Roger had struggled to describe, the magnetismwhich had not burst free as yet from the tangle of faith and scripture.
The night was warm and receptive.
My courtyard banana trees had not been touched by a freeze thiswinter, and grew thick and drowsing as ever against the brick walls.
The wild impatiens and lantana were glowing in the overgrown beds,and the fountain, the fountain with its cherub, was making itscrystalline music as the water splashed from the cherub's horn into thebasin.
New Orleans, scents of the Quarter.
I ran up the back steps from the courtyard to the rear door of myflat.
I went inside, pounding down the hall, a man in a state of visibleand ostentatious confusion. I saw a shadow cross the living room.
"David!""He's not here."I came to a halt in the doorframe.
It was the Ordinary Man.
He stood with his back to Louis's desk between the two frontwindows, arms folded loosely, face evincing a patient intellect and a sortof unbreakable poise.
"Don't run again," he said without rancour. "I'll go after you. Iasked you to please leave that girl out of it. Didn't I? I was only tryingto get you to cut it short.""I've never run from you!" I said, quite unsure of myself anddetermined to make that the truth from this moment on. "Well, notreally! I didn't want you near Dora. What do you want?""What do you think?""I told you," I said, gathering all my strength, "if you are here totake me, I am ready to go to Hell.""You're drenched in blood sweat," he said, "look at you, you're soafraid. You know, this is what it takes for me to get through tosomeone like you." His voice was reasonable, easy to hear. "Now amortal?" he asked. "I could have simply appeared once and said what Ihad to say. But you, no, that's a different matter, you've alreadytranscended too many stages, you've got too much to bargain with, that'swhy you're worth everything to me just now.""Bargain? You mean I can get out of this? We are not going toHell? We can have a trial of some sort? I can find a modern DanielWebster to plead for me?" There was mockery and impatience in allof this, and yet it was the logical question to which I wanted the logicalanswer at once.
"Lestat," he said with characteristic forbearance, loosening hisfolded arms and taking a leisurely step towards me. "It goes back toDavid and his vision in the cafe. The little story he told you. I am theDevil. And I need you. I am not here to take you by force to Hell, andyou don't know the slightest thing about Hell anyway. Hell isn't whatyou imagine. I am here to ask your help! I'm tired and I need you.
And I'm winning the battle, and it's crucial that I don't lose."I was dumbstruck.
For a long moment he regarded me and then deliberately began tochange; his form appeared to swell in size, to darken, the wings to riseonce more like smoke curling towards the ceiling, and the din ofvoices to begin and fast grow deafening, and the light suddenly rosebehind him. I saw the hairy goat legs move towards me. My feet hadno place to stand, my hands nothing to touch but him as I screamed.
I could see the gleam of the black feathers, the arch of the wings risinghigher and higher! And the din seemed a mixture of almost exquisitemusic with the voices!
"No, not this time, no!" I hurled myself right at him. I grabbedfor him and saw my fingers wrap around his jet-black wrist. I staredright into his immense face, the face of the granite statue, only fullyanimate and magnificently expressive, the horrific noise of chant andsong and howl swelling and drowning out my words. I saw his mouthopen, the great eyebrows scowl, the huge innocent almond-shapedeyes grow immense and fill with light.
I held fast with my left hand clutching at his powerful arm, certainhe was trying to get away from me and he couldn't! Aha! He couldn't!
And then I slammed my right fist into his face. I felt the hardness,preternatural hardness, as if striking another of my own kind. Butthis was no solid vampiric form.
The entire figure blinked even in its density and defensiveness;the image recoiled and redressed itself and began to grow again; Igave him one last full shove in the chest with every bit of strength Ihad in me, my fingers splayed out against his black armour, theshimmering ornamented breastplate, my eyes so close in the first instantthat I saw the carvings on it, the writing in the metal, and then thewings flapped above me as if to terrify me. He was far from me,suddenly, gigantic, yes, still, but I'd thrown him back, damn him. Onefine blow that had been. I gave a war cry before I could stop myselfand flew at him, though propelling myself from what base and bywhat force I couldn't have said.
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