Lestat couldnt help but stare at the painting again. The mans face,
those eyes it was as though he knew them, yet he couldnt place how. He
seems so sad.
Black Cat nodded. His brother died tragically, and after that travesty
he was never the same. His mother died soon after and his sister, married
to a brute in some far away kingdom, was unable to keep in touch. He
turned to meet Lestats smoky gaze. Young Louis grew very lonely. He fell
into a pit of despair from which he never was able to emerge.
Louis. Lestat said the name softly, testing the way it sounded. The
name had a velveteen quality as it flowed off his tongue. Im surprised I
never heard of him, since my own kingdom is not so very far away. I wonder
whom his sister married. But, you must have known him. Were you his pet,
Black Cat?
Black Cat closed his eyes as though weary. Something like that. But
come, we must see to your wounds.
Lestat shrugged, allowing the change of subject with some reluctance.
There was a mystery surrounding that portrait, he just knew it. If there
was one thing Lestat loved, it was a bit of a mystery to solve. Even as he
turned away from the painting, he could feel those green eyes boring into
his back, as though silently pleading that the mystery be revealed and put
to rest. Something about the entire castle was strange, invisible servants
and talking cat aside. The very atmosphere spoke of witchcraft or a
curse.
It was at that precise moment that Lestat remembered the dagger, and
the way the wolves had retreated at the mere sight of it. Black Cat, I
have a question. That dagger you gave me
Was designed to aid in your quest and offer protection, as I told
you.
Lestat nodded. Yes, but the wolves. The wolves that seemed sent by some
unnatural force to hunt me down. They were terrified of it!
At that, Black Cat stopped in his tracks, turning to face Lestat wide
slitted green eyes. Terrified of the dagger? He sat on his haunches, tail
twitching furiously. Then they were indeed sent by a dark force. He looked
at Lestat closely before seeming to come to a silent resolution. Very
well. You may tell me more in my chamber.
The young marquis son followed Black Cat further down the long stone
hallway until they came to a winding stone staircase. There were no
windows here, the only light cast from a few sparse candelabras mounted
into the wall. Follow me, Black Cat purred. And watch your step. I havent
entertained a mortal in my quarters in years and, as my vision is so
acute, there was little need for an abundance of light. It hurts my
eyes.
I see. Said Lestat, and he followed silently, one hand upon the rounded
wall for support as they mounted the winding stone stairs that led to a
tower chamber. At the head of the stairs was a large wooden door that was
propped open with a piece of kindling. Lestat did not need to question
this, for how could a simple cat be expected to open such a heavy door on
his own?
Inside, the room was a picture of opulence gone to disarray. The
sumptuous bed was dusty and unused. The armoire, a fine piece of furniture
with detailed carvings depicting the Expulsion from Eden, was in desperate
need of polish. The roaring fireplace cast the majority of light, but a
few candelabras were lit here and there, giving the room a rather ghostly
quality. Dont be afraid, Lestat. There is nothing that can harm you in
this room, or in any room of my castle.
Lestat nodded, looking about the room with avid curiosity. He still
limped a little, but he paid the dull ache no mind as he moved toward an
abandoned writing table. Dusty books were everywhere, and laying upon the
table was an open ledger signed by a Monsieur Louis de Pointe du Lac. This
room, it belonged to Louis.
Yes, answered Black Cat. But come away from there. Let me see how your
wounds are faring.
Lestat plopped down miserably on the bed with peaked curiosity. What is
it about Louis that you do not wish me to know? And the dagger, what has
it to do with any of this? Those wolves seemed afraid of the thing when
only moments ago they were confident about killing me. It makes no sense
unless youre some sort of wizard.
Black Cat chuckled, his tiny mouth tightly grasping a roll of bandages.
He dropped them at Lestats side then wiped his mouth with one sleek paw.
If I were a wizard, would I appear in the form of a simple cat?
Lestat had begun unwrapping his wounded thigh, wincing a little as
fresh air hit the wound. Then whats the secret? I knew from the first that
this castle was bewitched, but if you are somehow in league with those who
wish me dead, Id prefer you tell me.
Black Cat shook his head, beginning to wipe at his whiskers. If I was a
wizard and wanted you dead, wouldnt you be done for already? I assure you
that I am nothing if not your ally. He licked his whiskers. Doesnt the
fact that I gave you the dagger prove
anything?
