Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis

by Anne Rice

  "No, I can't go into him," he said. "I told you that. But I love looking at him through your eyes and I know what I see. He loves you so much more than he lets on. And others know that Louis loves you, and they see his love, and they're glad he's finally here."

  That was more reassuring than I cared to admit.

  And true, it was time, and there were my guardians off in the falling snow, sturdy as trees, waiting for me.

  I rose slowly as if my bones ached when they did not, and walked towards them. And for some reason, unbeknownst to me in my present frame of mind, I put my arms out to receive Cyril and Thorne, embracing them, and we walked down the mountain together.

  As I entered my crypt, I saw, in a flash, the city tumbling into the sea. I saw the smoke billowing up and up into the clouds and then making black clouds spreading out to block the sun.

  "Doesn't seem possible," Amel whispered, "a city like that, to have died within an hour."

  "And you died there," I said.

  But he didn't answer me. A hideous wailing filled my ears, but so faint I had to hold my breath to hear it. A wailing in dreams, not from him or me. A wailing that speaks of grief without the need of language.

  11

  Fareed

  FAREED WAS BACK at the Chateau working on the computer in his private quarters. Gregory stood by his side. And in a far-off corner of the great carpeted chamber, seemingly lost among the gilded furnishings, sat the solitary figure of Seth, black haired and golden skinned as Fareed was, dressed simply in a collarless black Chinese jacket and soft pants as Fareed was, yet occupying a stillness which the more animated and agitated Fareed never knew.

  Fareed was tapping rapidly on the computer keyboard, reviewing screen after screen of information as the great Chateau entered its quietest hour before the rising of the sun. A full snowstorm was closing in on the Chateau and the little village beneath it, and the forests that surrounded them both.

  Lestat had already gone to his crypt in the bowels of the mountain, as had most of those under the roof. And Fareed, fascinated as he was by what he was discovering, would soon have to retreat to the crypts as well.

  Only an hour before, Fareed and Seth had returned from Geneva, to begin the search for the story of two dark-skinned fugitives, Dr. Karen Rhinehart and her male companion, online. These two weren't human, no one any longer was disputing that, and Fareed was more fascinated by the mystery of what they might be than the question of any threat they might pose. Fareed was a powerful blood drinker, having been made by Seth, who was one of the eldest survivors of the tribe. And through a series of blood exchanges over the years, Fareed had imbibed the blood of young and old vampires, seeking to enhance his own mental and physical gifts. Fareed had a multitude of theories about the biological nature of vampires. His life offered him countless magnificent discoveries, no matter where he turned. But he had to focus on Dr. Karen Rhinehart now, no doubt about it.

  He was convinced there had been some sort of complex laboratory in Dr. Rhinehart's private apartment in Geneva. That was the only explanation he could find for the innumerable electrical and gas outlets he'd discovered there, and the long tables, one of which had been fitted with restraints that might have been applied to a body.

  Surveillance video revealed Dr. Rhinehart and her companion taking extra precautions with two of the crates removed from the building, both of which were at least seven feet long and might have contained bodies.

  Fareed was furious with himself that he had not closed in on her sooner before she'd had a chance to flee. He was absolutely certain now that Dr. Rhinehart was onto the nature of Gregory Duff Collingsworth, the founder of Collingsworth Pharmaceuticals, and that listening to Benji Mahmoud's nightly broadcasts had alerted her to the existence of another non-human entity like her, Garekyn Zweck Brovotkin, who was still evading capture on the West Coast.

  Why else would she have begun her move at the very moment the news of Garekyn's capture and escape had been broadcast?

  Fareed had returned from Geneva anxious to use the powerful human resources of the Court to trace the two non-humans.

  But in the meantime, the DNA material in the records of Collingsworth Pharmaceuticals for Dr. Karen Rhinehart--her faked health records--had led Fareed to a remarkable story, which he shared now with the others in bursts of reading aloud and wild verbalized speculation. He never forgot for a moment that Seth couldn't read his thoughts, or that Gregory seemed unreasonably skeptical with regard to the missing doctor, and really had to be convinced of how extraordinary was all this talk of non-humans.

  As Dr. Flannery Gilman had discovered, the DNA match for the blood samples had proved to be a woman in Bolinas, California, owner of a famous bed-and-breakfast hotel. Her name was Matilde Green. Old newspapers, now available online, recounted how Matilde Green had found two people unconscious on the beach one night near her hotel in 1975. It had been in the aftermath of a great storm.

  The woman and the man, severely emaciated, naked, and unconscious, had been locked in each other's arms as if they'd been "sculpted out of stone together," until revived by Green, who had built a fire of driftwood to warm them while rushing up to her hotel for brandy and blankets to aid in the salvation of the pair.

  In the dark ages of 1975, the only telephone connection at the bed-and-breakfast hotel had gone down during the worst of the gale.

  For twelve years the woman and the man, known as Kapetria and Welf, lived with Matilde Green in her large ramshackle hotel, providing invaluable aid to her in the restoration of the old building and its management. They had also been Matilde's devoted caretakers during several severe bouts of illness that landed Matilde in the hospital for extended periods. The bed-and-breakfast became a legend on that part of the coast, and so did Kapetria and Welf, and Matilde Green.

  Cheerful stories in small regional newspapers, and a couple in the San Francisco Examiner, told how Welf and Kapetria were experts in homeopathic medicines, and medicinal teas, of how they gave as good a therapeutic massage as any to be found anywhere, and painted and roofed and repaired the old hotel with boundless gratitude and zeal. Matilde who has suffered all her life with juvenile diabetes credited her two friends with keeping her alive when doctors had pretty much given up on her. Indeed, she was alive now, against all odds, at the age of one hundred and three, and was still visited by the mysterious pair on a regular basis.

  However, the couple had taken their leave in 1987 "to go forth into the world," as Matilde put it tearfully, when she had hosted "a huge bash" to say farewell to her "children of the sea." After that came a number of brief mentions of the hotel's continuing prosperity, and finally full newspaper and YouTube video coverage of Matilde's last birthday party, with Welf and Kapetria helping to feed over two hundred guests on a bright sunny afternoon last spring.

  These careless home videos maddened Fareed somewhat for what they did not reveal, nevertheless he got his closest glimpse of the faces of Kapetria and Welf and his best taste of their voices. Both spoke perfect accentless English, fielding questions about their mysterious appearance on the California beach years before with polite admissions that they loved being a mystery, and part of local lore and the tales of the amazing health benefits of the area for those who sought out the "B&B" for restorative retreats.

  "Well, that's it, there isn't anything else," said Fareed finally. "But it's obvious, the comparisons to the stories of Garekyn found in a Siberian cave."

  "But how did this woman become part of my company?" said Gregory. "She's been working for me for years. My security should have caught all this. My security isn't what..."

  "Your company's security is not the issue at hand," said Seth in a low voice. "It's imperative we discover what these beings are because they know about us."

  "I'm not convinced on any of this," Gregory responded, using his most agreeable tone of voice. "I told you, I have traveled this world," he insisted politely. "I have been everywhere. I have never seen anything like these be
ings before, and I trust that there will be some very disappointing explanation for all this, and we'll soon go back to facing the true important issues that challenge the Court now."

  "And what are those issues, if not our own safety?" asked Seth wearily. "This woman's been studying you at close hand for years; and using your money for her occult enterprises."

  There seemed some deep gulf between these two that Fareed could sense but not fathom. But it was clear that in some way, Gregory looked down on Seth as the resurrected relic of a primitive age, while considering himself the full expression of what an immortal could be. And Seth regarded Gregory as compromised by the immense energy he put into his identity in the mortal world as the resolute chairman of his chemical empire. At times Seth let slip that he was weary of Gregory's vanity, and preoccupation with worldly power. Seth had no need to be known or loved by mortals. Far from it. But Gregory seemed very much dependent on the adulation of thousands.

  "I have the lawyers in Paris on her credit cards," said Fareed, "but the woman may have multiple identities, in which case there is likely no clue to where she and the man have gone. We can call this woman Matilde, of course, and send people to watch the B and B, but Kapetria and Welf would be fools to go there."

  Seth rose from the chair. He appeared stiff and cold as he often did right before morning, and this was his mute signal that it was time for him and Fareed to retire to the crypts.

  Fareed rose from his desk. The three moved towards the door.

  "Well, it's all over for us for the moment," said Gregory. "I should have the analysis of all her research projects on my desk at the Paris office when we wake. We'll find out what she was actually doing at the company."

  "No," said Fareed as they left the apartment together and made their way down the dimly lighted corridor. "We'll find out what she wanted others to think she was doing in your laboratories, no more and no less."

  Gregory didn't want to admit that. And Seth walked on ahead impatiently.

  Moments later Fareed and Seth were alone in the large crypt beneath the Chateau that they shared.

  Neither had a taste for coffins or other Western romantic trappings of the grave, and this room was a simple though elegant bedchamber. It had a dark carpeted floor, a broad bed in the ancient Egyptian style with gilded lions supporting it, and a solitary standing lamp that gave a warm light through a parchment shade. The walls were painted with the golden sand and green palm trees of ancient Egypt.

  Fareed slipped off his boots and lay down among the silk-covered pillows. For the first time in many months, he was actually tired, tired in his bones, and wanted to sleep for a while.

  But Seth stood with his arms folded staring off as if he were not in this tiny windowless chamber, but gazing out at the snow falling all around them on the mountainside.

  "There were always stories in those ancient days," he said, "of wise men and healers who came out of the sea. I spoke to many a teller of tales in this or that city of such legends. And there were tales of a great kingdom that had been swallowed by the ocean in more places than one. These wise men and women were survivors of that great kingdom, or so some thought. I used to put hope in such legends. I used to think I could one day find one of these wise men or women and discover from that person some great and salvific truth."

  Fareed had never heard the word "salvific" spoken by anyone. He said nothing. He had never had any such idealistic or romantic beliefs. Reared by two entirely modern parents, Fareed had been protected as much from mythology as he had been from religion. His had been the world of science and scientific obsessions all of his life. The great gift of immortality meant that Fareed would live on and on discovering one scientific truth after another, witnessing the world of science make discoveries in the future that would so dwarf the present time that it would seem primitive and superstitious to later generations. And Fareed would share this future. Fareed would be there.

  But he could feel a great sadness in Seth. He wanted to say that it was all fascinating, that there was nothing to be sad about, but he knew better than to question any mood or emotion from Seth, who in his heart of hearts was unreachable when it came to speculations as to what this world was, or what he himself was, and why he was alive six thousand years after he'd been born.

  "Remember the description of the two intertwined in each other's arms," Fareed murmured sleepily. "Why don't you come and lie here beside me and let us make that picture now and sleep? Two in one another's arms as if carved from stone?"

  Seth obeyed. He kicked off his boots and lay down beside Fareed, his right arm over Fareed's chest.

  Fareed breathed deeper, pushing away the slight panic he always felt at losing consciousness with the rise of the sun. He moved closer to Seth, and closed his eyes, and began almost immediately to dream. Fire, smoke rising in a great dark column to the Heavens...

  He barely heard the dull throb of the cell phone in Seth's pocket, or Seth's voice as he answered. Seth was so much stronger than Fareed. Seth had an hour yet of wakefulness before the paralysis would come over him. And Fareed barely heard Seth's suddenly angry voice, but he tried very hard to hear it, to follow what Seth was saying.

  "But how? Why did they move to take him prisoner on their own?"

  Fareed could hear the voice of Avicus on the phone. Avicus, who months ago had gone to California to guard the old medical compound there as it was thoroughly evacuated. Avicus, who had been gracious to do that. But then Avicus would have done anything for Fareed and Seth and for the tribe.

  "But they shouldn't have gone alone," Seth was saying, "just the two of them! How perfectly stupid. They should have waited."

  He felt Seth beside him again, and the arm catching hold of him and bringing him closer to Seth.

  "Another blood drinker destroyed by the one called Garekyn," Seth said. "A maverick in California, name of Garrick. Two of them caught the intelligence that the being had used his passport at a local hotel. Avicus hadn't meant for them to act on it. They thought they could take the creature prisoner easily, and bring him back as far as New York. They wanted to be heroes. The creature decapitated Garrick and got away with his head."

  Fareed felt the pain, though he couldn't move or speak. Ah, foolish young ones. And this fiasco would inflame the wanderers throughout the area, increasing the danger that the thing called Garekyn would be destroyed on sight by the next band of assailants. It was not even midnight in Los Angeles.

  Seth was voicing the grief and frustration for both of them. But Fareed could no longer hear what he was saying. In fact, he was dreaming. He was seeing that city again, that city tumbling into the sea in flames, and smoke so black it turned day into night as it spread out across the sky in greasy rolling clouds, that city winking out below, collapsing in on itself as the ocean swallowed it. Thunder. Lightning, rain falling from Heaven. All the world trembling.

  12

  Derek

  WHAT IF HE had fallen? What if someone had seen him? Perhaps the fiendish Rhoshamandes had lied about the island being deserted. What if there were human guards who had taken him prisoner, and even now he was being put into some cell in this very dungeon, too far away for Derek to hear him crying for help?

  It was morning, cold and bleak, and the fiends had not, as far as Derek could tell, returned to this citadel to sleep. He had not heard their voices, or their little cell-phone radios, nor any sound to indicate anyone was in the castle except for him. But the castle was vast. He'd seen it from the air. How could he know what the fortress contained?

  For hours he had sat here alone, hunched over, shivering in his torn shirt and thin pants, barefoot, and desperate for the approach of his son on the outside of the door.

  His new left arm seemed no different from the old limb, the fingers flexing easily as always, the skin the same dark tone as all the rest of his skin. It seemed like a dream that he had ever felt that ax coming down on his shoulder. He regretted that he'd not been conscious to see the new arm growing ou
t of him, forming, developing a hand, achieving completion. He regretted that he hadn't seen the severed limb formed into a man. But maybe he had to be unconscious for these prodigious accomplishments to take place.

  The fire still burned, but the great charred log in the middle was cooling now, and all that was left of the brush and leaves that had once filled the fireplace were embers. Soon there would be no heat in this abysmal room at all.

  Derek's greatest armor against his fear, however, had been new ancient memories, the flood of new memories awakened in him by the formation of his son.

  He was quite certain that the Parents had never breathed a word to him and his companions to indicate that they could multiply in this way or any way. Had Kapetria known of this and kept it secret? It was to Kapetria that they had given the superior knowledge, which the Parents had said is all they needed to survive and complete their mission. How vividly he saw the Parents now explaining that they were to fulfill their mission, how vividly he heard their soft voices as they explained that it was for "this purpose and this purpose alone" that they had been made.

  And remember, you must all be together inside the dome, and you must assemble to do this before him if at all possible, explaining to him how he has failed us and why this is to be done.

  Of course the Parents hadn't told them how they should multiply. It wasn't necessary, was it? And how the Parents had stressed that they would never send to the planet another as educated as Amel. That had been their terrible error, they'd said, equipping Amel with immense knowledge and intelligence to loose the plague on the planet and study its effects over the centuries in all the many ways that the Parents required.

  Almost never do mammals on a planet gain ascendancy. Had it not been for the asteroid striking the planet this would never have happened and we know the fruits....

  They had made Amel to be received as a god on the planet by the crude mammalian primates so that Amel could rule them and force their cooperation as he prepared to loose the plague.

  Had Derek ever reviewed in his mind these specific things before? In a flash he saw the Parents, saw their immense round eyes, and their magnificent faces, saw them when they lifted their wings.