Khayman covered his face. The Porsche was halfway to the gates before the crowd forced it to stop.
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Get to Armand, Khayman thought. But what was the use?
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He looked up at the distant hills, at a tiny figure glowing against the dark sky...
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Suddenly he felt the heat; he felt it touch him as it had in Athens..
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He had retreated to the high grassy slope, with the cold Pacific beyond it.
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It was like a panorama now; death at a distance, lost in the lights...
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“Maharet, where are you?” Khayman whispered. The night gave no answer.
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Collecting his strongest power, he sought to leave the confines of his body, to send his vision out of himself...
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“Armand,” he said aloud. And the lights of the city went dim.
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Armand stared out into the night, his youthful face as impassive as before. He saw Khayman!
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To the north he went, calling the names Santino, Pandora.
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Mael, answer me. Let me know where you are. Had the Mother’s cold fiery beam struck him too?
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Dead quiet the peace of Carmel Valley. So happy were the little coven in the house, Lestat, Louis, Gabrielle, so happy to be together.
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Khayman watched them cross the grass, the female moving on into the open field...
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Why was she here? And where was she hiding?..
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Finally Lestat emerged from the house and hurried towards the lair he had made for himself beneath the acacia trees against the hillside.
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He thought of Maharet and he wanted to weep. But he made his way towards the house now.
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He heard the sound first – a loud, crackling roar. He turned, shielding his eyes from the rising sun.
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In a dark streak of windblown garments the Queen rose with ferocious speed...
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Khayman gave a loud cry before he could stop himself. And his cry rang out over the stillness of the valley.
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On the cool carpeted floor, Khayman stretched out and buried his face in his arm.
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