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And that is what I told Louis, once when he came to me seekingexplanations of God and the universe. I believe in no Devil. So I remindyou. Don't believe him. Turn your back.""As for Dora," said David quietly, "you've acted unwisely, but it'spossible that that breach of preternatural decorum can somehow behealed.""I don't think so.""Why?" he asked.
"Let me ask you both ... do you believe what I'm telling you?""I know you're telling the truth," said Armand, "but I told you, Idon't believe this creature is the Devil himself or that he will take youto Heaven or Hell. And very frankly, if it is true ... well, that's all themore reason perhaps that you shouldn't go."I studied him for a long moment, fighting the darkness I haddeliberately sought, trying to draw from him some impression of hiscomplete disposition on this, and I realized he was sincere. There wasno envy in him, or old grudge against me; there was no hurt, ortrickery, or anything. He was past all these things, if ever they hadobsessed him. Perhaps they'd been fantasies of mine.
"Perhaps so," he said, answering my thoughts directly. "But youare correct in that I am speaking to you directly and truly, and I tellyou, I would not trust this creature, or trust the proposition that youmust in some way verbally cooperate.""A medieval concept of pact," said David.
"Which means what?" I asked. I hadn't meant it to be so rude.
"Making a pact with the Devil," said David, "you know, agreeingto something with him. That's what Armand is telling you not to do.
Don't make a pact.""Precisely," said Armand. "It arouses my deepest suspicions thathe makes such a moral issue of your agreement." His young face wassorely troubled, his pretty eyes very vivid for a second in the shadows.
"Why do you have to agree?""I don't know if that's on the mark or not," I said. I was confused.
?"But you're right. I said something to him myself, something aboutthis being played by rules.""I want to talk with you about Dora," said David in a low voice.
"You must heal what you've done there very quickly, or at leastpromise us that you won't. ...""I'm not going to promise you anything about Dora. I can't," Isaid.
"Lestat, don't destroy this young mortal woman!" said Davidforcefully. "If we are in a new realm, if the spirits of the dead canplead with us, then maybe they can hurt us, have you ever thought ofthat?"David sat up, disconcerted, angry, the lovely British voice strainingto maintain decency as he spoke: "Don't hurt the mortal girl. Herfather asked you for a species of guardianship, not that you shake hersanity to the foundations.""David, don't go on with your speech. I know what you're saying.
But I tell you right now, I am alone in this. I am alone. I am alonewith this being Memnoch, the Devil; and you both have been friendsto me. You've been kindred. But I don't think anyone can advise mewhat to do, except for Dora.""Dora!" David was aghast.
"You mean to tell her this entire tale?" Armand asked timidly.
"Yes. That's exactly what I mean to do. Dora's the only one whobelieves in the Devil. Dear God, I need a believer right now, I need asaint, and I may need a theologian, and to Dora I'm going.""You are perverse, stubborn, and innately destructive!" saidDavid. It had the tone of a curse. "You will do what you will!" He wasfurious. I could see it. All his reasons for despising me were beingheated from within, and there really was nothing I could say in mydefense.
"Wait," said Armand with gentleness. "Lestat, this is mad. It'slike consulting the Sibyl. You want the girl to act as an oracle for you,to tell you what she, a mortal, thinks you must do?""She's no mere mortal, she's different. She has no fear of mewhatsoever. None. And she has no fear of anything. It's as thoughshe's a different species, but she's the human species. She's like asaint, Armand. She's like Joan of Arc must have been when she ledthe army. She knows something about God and the Devil that I don'tknow.""You're talking about faith, and it's very alluring," said David,"just as it was with your nun companion, Gretchen, who is now starkraving mad.""Stark mutely mad," I said. "She doesn't say anything but prayers,or so say the papers. But before I came along, Gretchen didn'treally believe in God, keep that in mind. Belief and madness, forGretchen, are one and the same.""Do you never learn!" said David.
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