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Then another vision came to me； very sharp； very special and unusual； something that would not be ignored。 I turned my head again and made the ice crackle。 I held my eyes open。 I could see a blur of lighted towers high above。
Some immortal down there in the city was thinking of me； someone far away； many blocks from the closed…up Cathedral。 In fact； I sensed in an instant the distant presence of two powerful vampires； vampires I knew； and vampires who knew of my death and lamented it bitterly as they went about some important task。
Now there was a risk to this。 Try to see them and they might catch much more than the glimmer of me which Benjamin had been so quick to catch。 But the city was empty of blood drinkers save for them； for all I could figure； and I had to know what it was that caused them to move with such deliberation and such stealth。
An hour passed perhaps。 Sybelle was silent。 They； the powerful vampires； were still at their work。 I decided to chance it。
I drew in close with my disincarnate vision； and quickly realized that I could see one through the eyes of the other； but that it did not work for me the other way around。
The reason was plain。 I sharpened my sight。 I was looking through the eyes of Santino； my old Roman Coven Master； Santino； and the other whom I saw was Marius； my Maker； whose mind was locked to me for all time。
It was a vast official building in which they made their careful progress； both dressed as gentlemen of the moment in trim dark blue clothes； even to starched white collars and thin silk ties。 Both had trimmed their hair in deference to corporate fashion。 But this was no corporation in which they prowled； clearly putting into harmless thrall any mortal who tried to disturb them。 It was a medical building。 And I soon guessed what their errand must be。
It was the forensics laboratory of the city through which they wandered。 And though they had taken their time in gathering up documents for their heavy briefcases； they were quick now with agitation as they pulled from refrigerated partments the remains of those vampires who； following my example； had turned themselves over to the mercy of the sun。
Of course； they were confiscating what the world now had on us。 They were scooping up the remains。 Into simple glistening plastic sacks they put the residue； out of coffinlike drawers and off shining steel trays。 Whole bones； ashes； teeth； ah； yes； even teeth； they swept into their little sacks。 And now from a series of filing cabinets they withdrew the plastic…wrapped samples of clothing that remained。
My heart quickened。 I stirred in the ice and the ice spoke back to me again。 Oh； heart be still。 Let me see。 It was my lace； my very lace； the thick Venetian Rose Point； burnt at the edges； and with it a few shredded rags of purple…red velvet！ Yes； my pitiful clothes which they took from the labeled partment of the filing drawer and slipped into their bags。
Marius stopped。 I turned my head and my mind elsewhere。 Do not see me。 See me and e here； and I swear to God I will 。。。 I will what？ I have no strength even to move。 I have no strength to escape。 Oh； Sybelle； please； play for me； I have to escape this。
But then； remembering that he was my Master； remembering that he could trace me only through the weaker more muddled mind of his panion； Santino； I felt my heart go quiet。
From the bank of recent memory； I took her music； I framed it with numbers and figures and dates； all the little detritus I had brought with me over the centuries to her： that Beethoven had written her sweet masterpiece； that it was Sonata No。 23 in F Minor； Opus 57。 Think on that。 Think on Beethoven。 Think on a make…believe night in cold Vienna； make…believe for I knew nothing really about it； think on him writing music with a noisy scratchy quill； which he himself perhaps could not hear。 Think on him being paid in pittances。 And think with a smile； yes； a painful cutting smile that makes your face bleed； of how they brought him piano after piano； so powerful was he； so demanding； so fiercely did he bang away。
And she； pretty Sybelle； what a fine daughter to him she was； her powerful fingers striking the keys with terrifying power that would surely have delighted him had he ever seen in the distant future； amid all his frenzied students and worshipers； just this particular maniacal girl。
It was warmer tonight。 The ice was melting。 There was no denying it。 I pressed my lips together and again lifted my right hand。 A cavity existed now in which I could move my right fingers。
But I couldn't forget about them； the unlikely pair； the one who'd made me and the one who'd tried to destroy him； Marius and Santino。 I had to check back。 Cautiously I sent out my weak and tentative beam of probing thought。 And in an instant； I'd fixed them。
They stood before an incinerator in the bowels of the building and heaved into a fiery mouth all the evidence which they had brought together； sack after sack curling and crackling in the flames。
How odd。 Didn't they themselves want to look at these fragments under microscopes？ But then surely others of our kind had done this； and why look at the bones and teeth of those who have been baked in Hell when you can carve pale white tissue from your own hand； and place this on the glass slide while your hand heals itself miraculously； as I was healing even now？
I lingered on the vision。 I saw the hazy basement round about them。 I saw the low beams above their heads。 Gathering all my power into my projected gaze； I saw Santino's face； so troubled； soft； the very one who had shattered the only youth I might have ever had。 I saw my old Master gazing almost wistfully at the flames。 〃We're finished；〃 Marius said in his quiet； manding voice； speaking Italian perfectly to the other。 〃I cannot think of another thing that we should do。〃
〃Break apart the Vatican； and steal the veil from them；〃 answered Santino。 〃What right have they to claim such a thing？〃
I could only see Marius's reaction； his sudden shock and then his polite and poised smile。 〃Why？〃 he asked； as if he held no secrets。
〃What's the Veil to us； my friend？ You think it will bring him back to his senses？ Forgive me； Santino； but you are so very young。〃
His senses； bring him back to his senses。 This had to mean Lestat。 There was no other possible meaning。 I pushed my luck。 I scanned Santino's mind for all he knew； and found myself recoiling in horror； but holding fast to what I saw。
Lestat； my Lestat…for he was never theirs； was he？…my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga； and held prisoner by the very oldest of our kind on the final decree that if he did not cease to disturb the peace； which meant of course our secrecy； he would be destroyed； as only the oldest could acplish； and no one could plead for him on any account。
No； that could not happen！ I writhed and twisted。 The pain sent its shocks through me； red and violet and pulsing with orange light。 I hadn't seen such colors since I'd fallen。 My mind was ing back； and ing back for what？ Lestat to be destroyed！ L