Fevre Dream Page 0,64

you-your face, your hands-I'd say thirty, thirty-five at the most. That book there, it says he died thirty-three years ago. And you say you knew him."

Joshua sighed. "Yes." He sounded rueful. "A stupid mistake. I was so taken by the sight of this steamer that I forgot myself. Afterward I thought it would not matter. You knew nothing of Byron. I was sure you would forget."

"I ain't always quick. But I don't forget." Marsh took a hard, reassuring grip on his stick, and leaned forward. "Joshua, I want us to talk. Get the woman out of here."

Valerie laughed icily in the darkness. She seemed closer now, though Marsh had not heard her move. "He is a bold fool," she said.

"Valerie will stay, Abner," Joshua said bluntly. "She can be trusted to hear anything you might care to say to me. She is as I am."

Marsh felt cold and very alone. "Like you are," he echoed heavily. "Well then. What are you?"

"Judge for yourself," Joshua replied. A match flared suddenly, star-tlingly, in the black cabin.

"Oh, my God," Marsh croaked.

The brief small flame threw harsh light on Joshua's features. His lips were swollen and cracked. Burned, blackened skin pulled tight across his forehead and cheeks. Blisters, swollen with water and pus, bulged beneath his chin and clustered on the raw red hand that cupped the match. His gray eyes gaped whitened and rheumy from hollow pits. Joshua York smiled grimly, and Marsh heard the seared flesh crackle and tear. Pale white fluid ran slowly down one cheek from a fissure freshly torn open. A piece of skin fell away, revealing raw pink flesh beneath.

Then the match went out, and darkness was a blessing.

"His partner, you said," Valerie said accusingly. "You would help him, you said. This is the help you gave him, you and your crew with your suspicions and your threats. He might have died for your sake. He is the pale king, and you are nothing, but he did this to himself to win your worthless loyalty. Are you satisfied, Captain Marsh? It seems not, since you are here."

"What the hell happened to you?" Marsh asked, ignoring Valerie.

"I was in the light of your gaudy day for less than two hours," Joshua replied, and now Marsh understood his pained whispering. "I was aware of the risk. I have done it before, when it was necessary. Four hours might have killed me. Six hours, most certainly. But two hours or less, most of it spent out of direct sunlight-I knew my limits. The burns look worse than they are. The pain is bearable. And this shall pass quickly. By tomorrow at this time, no one will ever know anything had touched me. Already my flesh heals itself. The blisters burst, the dead skin sloughs off. You saw for yourself."

Abner Marsh shut his eyes, opened them. It made no difference. The darkness was as full either way, and he could still see the pale blue after-image of the match hanging before him, and the awful specter of Joshua's ravaged face. "Then it don't matter about the holy water, and the mirrors," he said. "It don't matter. You can't go out by day, not really. What you said-those goddamned vampires of yours. They're real. Only you lied to me. You lied to me, Joshua! You ain't no vampire hunter, you're one of them. You and her and all the rest of them. You're vampires your-goddamned-selves!" Marsh held his walking stick out in front of him, an ineffective hickory sword warding off things he could not see. His throat felt raw and dry. He heard Valerie laugh lightly, and move closer.

"Lower your voice, Abner," Joshua said calmly, "and spare me your indignation. Yes, I lied to you. At our very first meeting, I warned you that if you pressed me for answers you would get lies. You forced the lies from me. I only regret that they were not better lies."

"My partner," Abner Marsh said angrily. "Hell, I can't believe it even now. A killer, or worse'n a killer. What have you been doin' all these nights? Goin' out and findin' somebody alone, drinkin' blood, rippin' them apart? And then moving on, yessir, now I see. A different town most every night, you're safe that way, by the time the folks ashore find what you've done you're gone off somewheres else. And not runnin' neither, just loafin' along in grand style in a fancy steamer with your own cabin and everything. No wonder you