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datatime: 2022-09-29 21:32:03 Author:RNuQOmIB

Don't be afraid, child, not even for a moment. You'll die now to live forever, as I take your blood and give it back to you. I won't let you s).ip away.

I stopped; I drew back from the blood and the visions. I knew him. I knew the relentless and hopeless darkness inside of him. I knew the life that had been forecast in hunger and bitter discipline.

I stepped away from him. I left him standing. I let loose my red

He trembled, fearing to let go of me, his head hanging heavily, his luxuriant hair soft against my hands.

Again, I saw the ikons. I saw the dim corridors of the monastery, and then in the falling snow, I saw the two on their horses, Amadeo and his father. Amadeo held the ikon, and the priest ran beside him, telling him that he must place the ikon in a tree, that the Tatars wquld find it and count it as a miracle, and Amadeo, how innocent he looked to be such a bold rider, to be chosen to ride with his father for Prince Michael's mission, as the snow came down heavily, as his hair was whipped by the wind.

Don't be afraid, child, not even for a moment. You'll die now to live forever, as I take your blood and give it back to you. I won't let you s).ip away.

I cut the flesh of my throat and I held his head near me.Drink, I said. I pushed his head forward.Put your mouth to the wound. Drink.

He was in my arms instantly, and I held him warmly, whispering close to his ear.

I drew him back away from the wound, and as he cried out I sank my teeth into his throat again. This time it was my blood mingled with his that flowed into me. The poison was no more.

love with the sacrificial cells and their starving inhabitants, save for his gift: that he could paint.

Then for one instant I saw nothing but his paintings, one image tumbling upon another, rapt faces of Christ, the Virgin-I saw the halos studded with costly jewels. Ah, such riches in the dark, cheerless monastery. And then came the rich bawdy laughter of his father, wanting him to leave the monastery, to ride out with him into the grasslands where the Tatars rode.

Don't be afraid, child, not even for a moment. You'll die now to live forever, as I take your blood and give it back to you. I won't let you s).ip away.

Come, Amadeo, come and take it from me, I said, my eyes full of tears.You are the victor. Take what I have to give.

You can stand now, my blessed pupil, I told him.My blood runs through you after the poison. We have begun.

I drew him back away from the wound, and as he cried out I sank my teeth into his throat again. This time it was my blood mingled with his that flowed into me. The poison was no more.

You can stand now, my blessed pupil, I told him.My blood runs through you after the poison. We have begun.

Come to me, I said. I held out my arms.

Don't be afraid, child, not even for a moment. You'll die now to live forever, as I take your blood and give it back to you. I won't let you s).ip away.

Come to me, I said. I held out my arms.

Then for one instant I saw nothing but his paintings, one image tumbling upon another, rapt faces of Christ, the Virgin-I saw the halos studded with costly jewels. Ah, such riches in the dark, cheerless monastery. And then came the rich bawdy laughter of his father, wanting him to leave the monastery, to ride out with him into the grasslands where the Tatars rode.

Come to me, I said. I held out my arms.

Come to me, I said. I held out my arms.

At last, he obeyed me, and suddenly with all his force he drew on the blood. Had he not tasted it enough to crave it? And now it came without measure, and he was passionate for it, and I closed my eyes, and felt an exquisite sweetness that I had not known since the long ago night when I had given my blood to my blessed Zenobia to make her all the more strong.

Prince Michael, their ruler, wanted to send Amacleo's father into the grasslands. It was a foolish mission. The monks railed against it, that Amadeo's father would take him into such danger. The monks wrapped the ikon and gave it to Amadeo. Out of the darkness and

flawless ikons, of the cold chambers in which he'd lived.

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