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"That must be perfectly horrible," I whispered.

Amel answered me with more laughter. "Let's be off to find Louis," he said.

I didn't care about Amel. I thought of what this must mean for Gremt. I thought of what it had to mean. I weighed all aspects of it in light of what I knew of Gremt and ghosts and spirits. And I knew how this spirit had wanted to become flesh and blood.

"Well, he can die, then, and be a spirit once more, can't he?" I said.

"I don't know," said Amel. "Do you think he's willing to find out? No being on the earth wants to die, in case you haven't noticed."

Probably not. Most assuredly not.

"Come now, enough of these 'things,' " he said with a tone of remarkable weariness. "New Orleans waits. Louis waits. And if he hasn't come down to New Orleans as you asked, I say we go to New York and get him."

He had mentioned Louis countless times in the last six months, but the strange thing was, I didn't trust him with all these mentions of how I needed Louis, and ought to write to Louis, and ought to pick up one of the many telephones around me and call Louis. I had some deep fear that he was in fact jealous of Louis, but I was ashamed of that feeling. Now he was saying, Let's go, let's find Louis.

"Lestat, don't I always know what's best for you?" he asked. "Who was it told you decades ago to restore the Chateau? Who was it came to you in the mirror at Trinity Gate with the vision of what I was, so that you wouldn't fear me?"

"And who was it urged Rhoshamandes to take my son captive?" I asked angrily. "And urged Rhoshamandes to kill the great Maharet and would have driven him to kill her sister?"

He sighed. "You are merciless," he muttered.

Thorne came up close to me, with Cyril not far behind. Cyril was such a big hulk of a blood drinker that he made Thorne look a little small. Male beings like that know an insolent fearlessness that smaller men never quite know. But when I didn't move, when I just stood there in the snow, with the snow covering my head and my shoulders as if I were a statue in a park, the two of them said nothing.

"You need Louis," Amel said. "I always know what you need. Besides--."

"Besides what?"

"I like to look at him through your eyes."

"I don't want to think of you inside of Louis," I said.

"Oh, don't concern yourself. I don't go into Louis. Weak ones like Louis have never interested me. Consider those who heard 'the Voice.' Were any of them as human as Louis? No, they were not. If you must know, I can't find Louis. I can't go into Louis. Maybe in a century or two, yes, he'll be able to hear me, but for now, no. But I like to look at him through your eyes."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Something happens to your senses when you look on Louis. Behold Louis. I don't know. I see him more vividly than I sometimes see the others. I see a blood drinker. I think I see a whole life in Loui

s when I see Louis through your eyes. I want to know whole lives. I want to know big things, whole things, long things."

I smiled. Did he know when I was smiling? I was impressed by the continuity of what he was saying. Long things indeed. He spoke in brilliant bursts, but seldom did his thoughts hold to a continuity. Seldom was his train of thought long.

He was correct that most of those who heard his Voice last year had been the older ones....

"You like the ones with power," I said. "You like to go into those who can make fire."

Long raw moan of misery.

"And your beloved Louis, if he has the power to make fire, would not discover it and not use it, unless of course someone threatens those he loves."

That was likely very true.

"Listen, I'm closer to you than any other being in creation," he said. "But I can't see you, can I, when I'm inside of you. I only see what you see. And something happens when you are with Louis, something happens when you reach out to touch him. I wish I could see you as he sees you. He has green eyes. I like green eyes. My Mekare had green eyes."

This troubled me, and I wasn't sure quite why. What if he suddenly wanted to hurt Louis? What if he became jealous of Louis--of my affection for Louis?

"Nonsense, go to him," he said. Calm voice. Manly voice. "Am I jealous of your son, Viktor? Am I jealous of your beloved daughter, Rose? You need Louis and you know it, and he's ready now to surrender. He's held back on principle long enough. I sense--." He broke off. I heard a sound like a hiss.

"You sense what?"