pzb.lostsouls-第55节
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Arkady drew himself up to his full spare height。 〃Perhaps I spoke too soon。〃 The hem of his white robe shushed against the floor； raised a cloud of dust around his bony ankles。
〃No； Mr。 Raventon。 I'd really like to hear about it。〃
〃Arkady；〃 said Arkady absently。 His eyes had gone distant。 He led them into the back room of the shop and stood beside the altar； stroking its corner。
Ghost's gaze wandered over the wooden framework； the dropcloth of dark sapphire velvet。 He saw things he had not noticed before： intricate enamel charms； little scrolls of parchment； an inverted wooden cross bristling with nails。
Arkady's dry； faintly foreign voice brought him back to attention。 〃It was cold in Paris that winter。 As cold as the moon。 As cold as loneliness。 As cold as the kiss that killed me。〃
His eyes flicked to Ghost's； to Steve's。 Ghost's were wide open； a little scared； he was picking up a barrage of feelings from Arkady； sorrow and fear and pain； but all of them were overlaid with the facile pleasure of a gifted actor performing a cherished role。 Ghost didn't know what to make of it。 Steve's eyes were hooded； wary； waiting for lies。
〃Yes； my young friends。 My poor young friends with your beautiful faces and your innocent dreams。 You think love is sweet； that it can never hurt。 But it was not the Parisian cold that killed me； not the wind in my bones； not the ice that rimed my heart。 It was the kiss of a lover。〃
〃The kiss？〃 Steve's voice was heavy with cynicism。
〃Well； perhaps a bit more than just the kiss。 But you must allow me my bit of romance。〃 Sarcasm sharpened Arkady's voice； and Ghost shot Steve a warning look。 Steve stared at the altar。
〃So；〃 Arkady went on； 〃this； ah； kiss…and the rest of my lover's body as well…was ripe with death。 Ripe； and sweet as rotten fruit。 Have you ever bitten into a rotten peach； either of you？ A plum？ A melon； perhaps？ There is one moment of absolute； blissful； delicious sweetness before the taste of decay oozes over your tongue。 That is how it was with my lover。 And then the sickness rotted my lover away； and I had caught it too by that time； and I was alone。 In Paris； in the winter。 I was alone。〃 A faint smile played about Arkady's lips。
〃Have I mentioned my brother Ashley？ No？ Ashley was my younger brother。 The beauty of the Raventons。〃 Arkady laughed； a sound like wind among chips of crystal。 〃When I went to Paris； he stayed here； and I vowed that I would e back。 I had to teach him； you see。 I had to tell him all I knew of magick； of death and love and pain。 Ashley was to be my apprentice。 And I went to Paris； and the sickness took me。 But I had vowed to Ashley that I would return。 I had given him my word。 And I would not break that。〃
Arkady's fingers strayed to the altar； toyed with the dark velvet dropcloth。 〃So before I died； I prepared。 I had just enough time to find the things I needed。 I sent for powders from Haiti； for potions from Guatemala。 I procured the blood of an ancient man in the Rue aux Fers； the bones of a child in the catabs of Montmartre。
〃But at last I could search no longer。 The sickness came and smiled its final soft dark smile at me； and my blood dried in my veins； and my eyeballs shriveled。 One morning before dawn I swallowed the concoction I had made； and I let the sickness take me。 I felt its lips upon mine； its tongue lapping the last sour drop of spit from my mouth。 I felt my life leave me。 I felt my very selfness slip away； there was one instant in which I thought； My God； now I am dead。
〃And then I was。 And I awoke in the morgue of a Paris hospital； and when I stretched myself and stuffed； one of the morgue attendants suffered a heart attack。 Fortunately it was not fatal。〃
This time Arkady's laughter was like the clanging of a heavy door； a door of stone or steel； a door that would not be opened again for a very long time。 〃Then I made my way home to New Orleans； to keep my vow to Ashley。 But； as any sad story should end； Ashley too had died； and had not e back。 He would never be my apprentice。 He would learn none of my secrets。〃
Ghost licked his lips nervously。 His tongue was as dry as Arkady's must have been all through that long winter in Paris。 〃What happened to Ashley？〃 he asked。
Arkady knelt and flipped up the velvet dropcloth。 His hands disappeared into the blackness beneath the altar。 Shadows lapped at his knuckles； his wrists。 Then he withdrew his hands。
Steve cursed and took a step backward； Ghost's eyes widened。 Arkady was holding a perfect human skull； smooth and narrow； bleached to the golden…white of old ivory。
〃Ghost and Steven；〃 Arkady said； 〃meet my brother Ashley。〃
Later； Steve thought that if he hadn't known Ghost so well； he would have suspected Ghost of trying to win Arkady Raventon's heart at that moment。 But of course Ghost was Ghost； the most uncalculating of all people； and what he did next was just his nature…the pure crazy chemistry that flowed between his brain and his heart and his soul。 Never mind how Arkady Raventon's eyes melted when Ghost reached out his hands and said； 〃Can I hold him？〃
Arkady put the skull into Ghost's hands。 Ghost cradled it carefully。 Its surface was somehow devoid of temperature； neither warm nor cold。 He looked into the sockets of its eyes。 It was the only skull he had ever seen that didn't look as if it were grinning。 It just stared； and the arch of its teeth was impassive； perhaps sad。 He hoped Steve wouldn't make a joke （Why can't Ashley Raventon go to parties anymore？ Because he doesn't have any body to go with）。
Ghost was very aware that here had once rested a brain； a mind； an identity。 A soul？ Here had once been the cradle of a life。 He felt as if he were holding something alive and vulnerable。 Something that depended on him not to drop it。 If he dropped it； it would surely crack。 It might shatter。 So Ghost held the skull carefully； and then the feelings began to e； as he had known they would。 The essence of Ashley washed over Ghost； and he lost himself in the depths of the skull's empty eyes and let the impressions e。
A great loneliness。 That was the first thing。 Loneliness for Arkady； wanting him； wanting his arrogance； his self…assurance。 Misgivings in spite of the desire to trust； and then the conviction that Arkady was never ing back from Paris。 A void。 A slew of things to fill the void…alcohol and opium； lovers and new leather boots…but still the late nights crept in； and Arkady was never ing back； never could； never 。 。 。
Then two familiar faces rose up before him； two pairs of silvery eyes； a tangle of scarlet and yellow hair。 They were stuffing at Ghost as they had the last time he'd seen them； sitting astride the branch of the old oak in the clearing； on that first night of strangeness。 But this time their ripe mouths were smeared with blood and other juices； with shreds of tissue。
Ghost felt sick。 A stupid panic welled up in his throat。 But he put the skull back in Arkady's hands and said only； 〃Your brother was very handsome； wasn't he？〃
〃Not handsome。 Beautiful。 Did I mention that Ashley was the beauty of the Raventons？〃 Arkady pressed his lips to the top of the ivory cranium before continuing。 〃His hair was the color of burgundy； and he wore it long down his back； and it sparkled when he walked in the rain。 His cheekbones were like razors…I always thought that I might cut my finger on one of them； but I never did。〃 With the tip of one forefinger； Arkady touched the skull gently。 〃And those eyes…I used to say to him； 'O Ashley； those eyes； those eyes'…so dark and lost when they tilted up to me…like holes through time。〃 He ran his finger around the edge of one of the empty eye sockets。 〃Those eyes…how they could slay me。
〃But he died。 Yes； I came back home and he had died。 My Ashley。 My brother。 And now I am alone。〃
〃Wait a second。〃 Ghost's voice was halting； there was no doubt in it； only wonder。 〃You came home。 You were there。 Why didn't you bring Ashley back from the dead； too？〃
Arkady held the skull a moment longer。 Then he knelt and slid it back under the altar。 He spent some time rearranging the velvet； brushing away dust； picking up some black feathers that had fallen from the altartop to the floor。 When he stood； the joints of his knees cracked as loudly as shots in the silent room。
He met Ghost's eyes； and when he spoke； his voice was soft and even。
〃Ashley didn't want to e back；〃 he said。
〃So was it vampires that killed your brother？〃 Ghost asked Arkady a little later。 He figured it couldn't hurt to find out just what the twins were。 Allowing for the existence of one kind of vampire； it seemed to follow that there might be other kinds； feeding on things other than blood。 The existence of the first type scared him but didn't really surprise him。 All his life he had been accepting as normal things that most people didn't even believe in。
They were sitting in the front room； talking over a decanter of sherry that Arkady had brought out from some recess of the shop。 At least Ghost hoped it was sherry。 It tasted funny； musty and a little sour； but Steve was putting it away with no problem。 Ghost sipped from his first glass as
