The hateful stranger was baffled and weakended, and tottered on his feet. His friends continued to laugh.
Quickly Thorne made his way out of the place and into the snow and there he found Marius waiting for him. The wind was stronger than before, but the snow itself had stopped falling.
"The thirst is so strong now," said Thorne. "When I slept in the ice, I kept it like a beast chained up, but now it rules me. Once begun, I can't stop. I want more even now."
"Then more you'll have. But kill you can't. Not even in such a city as large as this. Come, follow me."
Thorne nodded. He had already killed. He looked at Marius, confessing this crime silently. Marius shrugged his shoulders. Then he put his arm around Thorne as they walked on.
"We've many places to visit."
It was almost dawn when they returned to the house Down into the wood-lined cellar the went, and there Marius showed Thorne to a chamber cut into into the stone. The walls of it were cold, but a large sumptuous bed had been made inside the chamber, hung with brightly colored linen drapperies, and heaped with intricately sewn covers. The mattress looked thick andd so did the many pillows.
It was startling to Thorne that there was no crypt, no true hiding place. Anyone could find him here. It seemed as simple as his cave in the North, but far more inviting, far more luxurious. He was so tired in all his limbs that he could scarce speak. Yet he was anxious.
"Who is to disturb us here?" asked Marius. "Other blood drinkers go to their rest in this strange darkness just as we do. And there is no mortal who can enter here. But if you are afraid, I understand if we must seek some other shelter for you."
"Do you sleep in this way, unguarded?" Thorne asked.
"Even more so, in the bedroom above, like a mortal man, sprawled on my mattress in the cabinet bed mong my comforts. The only enemy who has ever harmed me was a swarm of blood drinkers. They came when I was fully awake and aware as must needs be. If you like, I shall tell you that awful story."
Marius's face had gone dark, as though the mere mention of this disaster was evocative of terrible pain.
And Thorne understood something suddenly. It was that Marius wanted to tell this story. Marius needed to speak in a long flow of words as much as Thorne needed to hear words. Marius and Thorne had come upon each other in the proper moment.
But that would be tomorrow night. This night was ended.
Marius drew himself up and went on with his reassurance.
"The light won't come as you know, and no one will trouble you here. Sleep and dream as you must. And we'll talk on the morrow. Now let me take my leave. Daniel, my friend, is young. He falls on the floor by his little empire. I have to make him retire to a comfortable place, though I wonder sometimes if it matters."
"Will you tell me one thing before you go? " asked Thorne.
"If I can," said Marius gently, though suddenly he looked overwhelmingly hesitant. He looked as though he contained heavy secrets which he must tell and yet he feared to do it.
"The blood drinker who walked on the seashore," said Thorne, "looking at the pretty shells one by one, what became of her?"
Marius was relieved. He gave Thorne a long look and then in carefulwords he answered.
"They said that she gave herself up to the sun. She was not so old. They found her one evening in the moonlight. She'd drawn a great circle around herself of shells so they knew that her death was deliberate.
There were only ashes there, and in fact, some had already been scattered by the wind. Those who loved her stood nearby and they watched as the wind took the rest. It was all finished by morning."
"Ah, what a dreadful thing," said Thorne. "Had she no pleasure in being one of us?"
Marius seemed struck by Thorne's words. Gently he asked:
Do you take any pleasure in being one of us?"
"I think ... I think I do again," said Thorne hesitantly.
5
HE WAS AWAKENED by the good smell of an oak fire. He turned over in the soft bed, not knowing where he was for the moment, but completely unafraid. He expected the ice and the loneliness. But he was someplace good, and someone was waiting for him. He had only to climb to his feet, to go up the steps.
Quite suddenly it all came clear. He was with Marius, his strange and hospitable friend. They were in a new city of promise and beauty built upon the ruins of the old. And good talk awaited him.
He stood up, stretching his limbs in the easy warmth of the room, and looked about himself, realizing that the illumination came from two old oil lamps, made of glass. How safe it seemed here. How pretty the painted wood of the walls.
There was a clean linen shirt for him on the chair. He put it on, having much difficulty with the tiny buttons. His pants were fine as they were. He wore woolen stockings but no shoes. The floors were smooth and polished and warm.
He let his tread announce him as he went up the stairs. It seemed very much the proper thing to do in this house, to let Marius know that he was coming, and not to be accused of boldness or stealth.
As he came to the door to the chamber where Daniel made his wondrous cities and towns, he paused, and very reticently glanced inside to see the boyish blond-haired Daniel at his work as though he had never retired for the day at all. Daniel looked up, and quite unexpectedly, gave Thorne an open smile as he greeted him.
"Thorne, our guest," he said. It had a faint tone of mockery, but Thorne sensed it was a weaker emotion.
"Daniel, my friend," said Thorne, glancing again over the tiny mountains and valleys, over the fast- running little trains with their lighted windows, over the thick forest of trees which seemed Daniel's present obsession.
Daniel turned his eyes back to his work as though they hadn't spoken.
It was green paint now that he dabbed onto the small tree.
Quietly, Thorne moved to go but as he did so, Daniel spoke:
"Marius says it's a craft, not an art that I do." He held up the tiny tree.
Thorne didn't know what to say.
"I make the mountains with my own hands," said Daniel. "Marius says I should make the houses as well."
Again Thorne found himself unable to answer.
Daniel went on talking.
"I like the houses that come in the packages. It's difficult to assemble them, even for me. Besides, I would never think of so many different types of houses. I don't know why Marius has to say such disparaging things."
Thorne was perplexed. Finally he said simply,"I have no answer."
Daniel went quiet.
Thorne waited for a respectful interval and then he went into the great room.
The fire was going on a blackened hearth within a rectangle of heavy stones, and Marius was seated beside it, slumped in his large leather chair, rather in the posture of a boy than a man, beckoning for Thorne to take his place on a big leather couch opposite.
"Sit there if you will, or here if you prefer," said Marius kindly. "If you mind the fire, I'll damp it down."
"And why would I mind it, friend?" asked Thorne, as he seated himself. The cushions were thick and soft.
As his eyes moved over the room, he saw that almost all the wood paneling was painted in gold or blue, and there were carvings on the ceiling beams above, and on the beams over the doorways.
These carvings reminded him of his own times. But it was all new — as Marius had said, it was made by a modern man, this place, but it was made well and with much thought and care to it.
Sometimes blood drinkers fear the fire," said Marius, looking at the flames, his serene white face full of light and shadow. "One never knows. I've always liked it, though once I suffered dreadfully on account of it, but then you know that story."
"I don't think I do know it," said Thorne. "No, I've never heard it. If you want to tell it, I want to hear."