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"I think the Elders thought in their venerable minds, and God knows, I don't really know their venerable minds, that the Declaration would bring certain of our members back to us who had been inducted into your ranks. "

"Oh, that's lovely. " Lestat laughed. "Why are you mincing words like this? Is it on account of the boy?"

"Yes, perhaps I mince words because of him," Stirling answered, "but honestly, we members of the Talamasca think in language such as this. "

"Well, for your records and your files," Lestat said, "we don't have ranks. In fact, I'd say that as a species we are given to rigidly individual personalities and obdurate differences, and peculiar mobility as to matters of friendship and company and meeting of minds. We come together in small covens and then are driven wildly apart again. We know little lasting peace with each other. We have no ranks. "

This was intriguing and my fear melted just a little as Stirling came back in his careful polite voice.

"I understand that," he said. "But to return to the question at hand, as to why the Elders ma

de this warlike declaration, I think they honestly believed that those vampires who had once been part of us might come to try to reason with us, and we might benefit thereby in meeting with actual beings such as yourself. We might carry our knowledge of you to a higher realm. "

"It was all scholastic is what you're saying," said Lestat.

"Yes. And surely you must realize what it has meant for us to lose three members to your collective power, whatever the cause of it, and no matter how it was accomplished. We were stunned by each defection, and mystified as to the dialogue, if any, that might have preceded what happened. We wanted to learn, you see. We wanted. . . to know. "

"Well, it didn't work, did it?" said Lestat, his calm demeanor unchanged. "And you weren't content with the Chronicles alone, were you? They told you all about the dialogue. But you and the Elders wanted this eye-to-eye view. "

"No, it didn't work," said Stirling, and he seemed now to be possessed of his full dignity and strength. His gray eyes were clear. "On the contrary, we provoked from you more audacity. You dared to publish a Chronicle using the name Merrick Mayfair. You dared to do this even though a great family by the name of Mayfair lives in this city and its environs to this day. You had no care when you did that. "

I felt a sharp stab in my heart. My own beloved Mayfair flashed before my eyes. But here was Stirling being positively reckless again.

"Audacity!" said Lestat, his smile broadening as he glared at Stirling. "You accuse me of audacity! You're living and breathing now entirely because I want it. "

"No doubt of it, but you are audacious," insisted Stirling.

I was about to faint.

"Audacious and proud of it," Lestat fired back. "But let's get one thing straight. I am not the sole author of the Chronicles. Blame your own versatile David Talbot for the Chronicle of Merrick Mayfair. It was David's story to tell. Merrick wanted the Dark Gift. Merrick Mayfair was a witch before she was ever a vampire. Who should know that better than you? There was no lie there. And it was David's choice to use her name, as well as the name of the Talamasca, I might add. What is all of this to me?"

"He wouldn't have done it without your blessing," said Stirling with astonishing confidence.

"You think not?" demanded Lestat. "And why should I care about some mortal family of witches? The Mayfairs, what are they to me? And what is a great family, pray tell, a rich family? Vampires loathe witches, whether they're rich or poor. Anyone who reads the story of Merrick Mayfair can see why. Not that Merrick isn't anything but a princess among us now. Besides, our eager readers think it's all fiction, and how do you know what's real and what's not?"

I wept inside thinking of my red-haired Mayfair! And on they talked.

"Thank God your readers think it's fiction," said Stirling, becoming faintly more heated, "and the Mayfair family is unaware of the truths you told; and a great family is one that has survived the ages, and treasures bonds of love. What else? You seek a family, always and everywhere. I see it in your Chronicles. "

"Stop, I won't listen to you," said Lestat sharply but without raising his voice. "I'm not here to be judged by you. You've had corruption in your ranks. You know you have. And I know full well myself. And now I find that you're corrupt, disobeying your Elders to come here. You think I'd give you the Dark Blood?"

"I don't want it," said Stirling in suppressed amazement. "I don't seek it. I wanted to see you, and hear your voice. "

"And now you have, and what will you do?"

"I told you. Write about it. Confess to the Elders. Describe it all. "

"Oh, no you won't," said Lestat. "You'll leave out one key part. "

"And what is that?" asked Stirling.

"You're such an admirable bunch," said Lestat, shaking his head. "You can't guess what part?"

"We try to be admirable," said Stirling. "I'll be condemned by the Elders. I might even be removed from Louisiana, though I doubt it. I have other important work to do. "

Again, there came that stab in my heart. I thought of the "great family of Mayfair. " I thought of my red-haired love, my Mayfair witch, whom I would never see again. Was that his important work? I wished with all my heart I could ask him.

Lestat appeared to be studying Stirling, who had fallen silent, staring at Lestat, perhaps doing that little mental trick of memorizing all the details about which he would write later on. Members of the Talamasca were especially trained to do it.