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.They had her pale skin, even her expression! And two of them had her long curly red hair.To Jesse, an adopted child, this had a very special significance.It was only towards the end of her stay that Jesse began to realize the implications of the family records, as she opened scrolls covered with ancient Latin, Greek, and finally Egyptian hieroglyphs.Never afterwards was she able to pinpoint the discovery of the clay tablets deep within the cellar room.But the memory of her conversations with Maharet were never clouded.They’d talked for hours about the family chronicles.Jesse had begged to work with the family history.She would have given up school for this library.She wanted to translate and adapt the old records and feed them into computers.Why not publish the story of the Great Family? For surely such a long lineage was highly unusual, if not absolutely unique.Even the crowned heads of Europe could not trace themselves back before the Dark Ages.Maharet had been patient with Jesse’s enthusiasm, reminding her that it was time-consuming and unrewarding work.After all, it was only the story of one family’s progress through the centuries; sometimes there were only lists of names in the record, or short descriptions of uneventful lives, tallies of births and deaths, and records of migration.Good memories, those conversations.And the soft mellow light of the library, the delicious smells of the old leather and parchment, of the candles and the blazing fire.And Maharet by the hearth, the lovely manikin, her pale green eyes covered with large faintly tinted glasses, cautioning Jesse that the work might engulf her, keep her from better things.It was the Great Family that mattered, not the record of it, it was the vitality in each generation, and the knowledge and love of one’s kin.The record merely made this possible.Jesse’s longing for this work was greater than anything she’d ever known.Surely Maharet would let her stay here! She’d have years in this library, discovering finally the very origins of the family!Only afterwards did she see it as an astounding mystery, and one among many during that summer.Only afterwards, had so many little things preyed on her mind.FOR example, Maharet and Mael simply never appeared until after dark, and the explanation—they slept all day—was no explanation at all.And where did they sleep?—that was another question.Their rooms lay empty all day with the doors open, the closets overflowing with exotic and spectacular clothes.At sunset they would appear almost as if they’d materialized.Jesse would look up.Maharet would be standing by the hearth, her makeup elaborate and flawless, her clothes dramatic, her jeweled earrings and necklace sparkling in the broken light.Mael, dressed as usual in soft brown buckskin jacket and pants, stood silently against the wall.But when Jesse asked about their strange hours, Maharet’s answers were utterly convincing! They were pale beings, they detested sunlight, and they did stay up so late! True.Why, at four in the morning, they were still arguing with each other about politics or history, and from such a bizarre and grand perspective, calling cities by their ancient names, and sometimes speaking in a rapid, strange tongue that Jesse could not classify, let alone understand.With her psychic gift, she sometimes knew what they were saying; but the strange sounds baffled her.And something about Mael rankled Maharet, it was obvious.Was he her lover? It did not really seem so.Then it was the way that Mael and Maharet kept speaking to each other, as if they were reading each other’s minds.All of a sudden, Mael would say, “But I told you not to worry,” when in fact Maharet had not said a word out loud.And sometimes they did it with Jesse too.One time, Jesse was certain, Maharet had called her, asked her to come down to the main dining hall, though Jesse could have sworn she heard the voice only in her head.Of course Jesse was psychic.But were Mael and Maharet both powerful psychics as well?Dinner: that was another thing—the way that Jesse’s favorite dishes appeared.She didn’t have to tell the servants what she liked and didn’t like.They knew! Escargots, baked oysters, fettucini alla carbonara, beef Wellington, any and all her favorites were the nightly fare.And the wine, she had never tasted such delicious vintages.Yet Maharet and Mael ate like birds, or so it seemed.Sometimes they sat out the entire meal with their gloves on [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]