I won't touch the mask again if I can help it, believe me. I'm tired, oh so tired of grieving for Honey. I was ten years old when she was murdered. She wants to use me, and that I won't allow. I don't want to see Honey anymore she said under her breath.I told you. And as he drained my blood to the very point of death, it was the bronze-skinned spirit of the cave whom I glimpsed as my eyes closed.Ībsolutely, I said.But you must promise me, that if you ever change your mind about the mask, you'll call me before you take even the simplest steps.
I don't know if my prayers were heard by my orisha, but the room was suddenly assailed by small spirits, none of whom could frighten or hinder Lestat in any way. When it was clear that he meant to force me, I fought him with all I had. I felt invincible in my new young body and I had no thought to ask Lestat for eternal life. It was after our dreadful ordeal with the Body Thief. Developed by a group of blockchain lovers, CryptoTab is a browser that allows users to mine Bitcoin while surfing the Internet. The world of solid things and spiritual things flickered and went out.Īs you well know, I was no longer the elder David. I had done it fiercely and selfishly, and though the illness had burnt away much of my desire to explore the mystery of the cave, I feared the spirit's return. I had robbed a place that was precious to him.
I only know that we did not discuss them in detail when we took stock of the whole event.Īs for my personal reaction to the spirit, I was afraid of him. Perhaps we had exchanged confidences about my visions when I was feverish. Now that I look back on these things, I'm not sure why I didn't tell Merrick all about the spirit with the oval face and how he had continued to appear to me throughout my illness, and especially when I was close to death. It was on the night in Barbados when Lestat came to see me, and decided to make me a vampire against my will. I've put the mask into the vault, in a sealed box, under my name, Merrick told me.I suggest we leave it there. I called on my orisha, Oxalá, in the old Portuguese Candomble tongue. How verdant and vigorous and remote.Īt some point in this vain attempt to save myself from the vampiric blood, I called on God, the angels, anyone who might help me. How beautiful Louisiana can be in winter. Giant green elephant ear and purple flowering orchid plants were growing everywhere.
I saw blossoms of pink and red and white which I never forgot. Later, Merrick and I walked in the garden, which was filled with lush beautiful dark-leafed camillias, which thrive in the winter, even through light frost. I saw the tears on his cheeks.Īs a matter of fact, I did see this spirit again. The figure was wavering, yet fully realized. Would it do no good to speak to her? Would it do no good to tell her that she's dead? After a week of convalescence in the New Orleans Motherhouse, I dressed in my usual tweed suit and came downstairs for breakfast, with the other members assembled there.
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