Descending Star

TERRARIUM

"What do they eat?"

"How should I know? Give him blood."

Alec wrinkled his nose and considered. "I don't think he'll eat blood."

"Why wouldn't he? They're omnivorous. Like dogs. What's wrong with blood? We can warm it for him. And put it in a bowl. Like soup."

"Brother Marcus told us to make him comfortable and welcome. I don't think blood is a comfort food."

Little Jane rolled her eyes wearily and informed her darling brother, "I'm bored. I could just touch him. Then he'll eat anything."

"Brother Marcus definitely wouldn't approve. What about all the human vintages in the Tasting Room? Some of them have been thriving for years," Alec mused. "They must eat something. What?"

Jane giggled and teased, "Don't be a ninny. You know what they eat. And they don't look very comfortable to me. I know. Maybe we should ask Gianna."

She turned imperiously to the golden doorway and addressed one of the two mountainous thugs who stood guard.

"You. Mindless thrall. Fetch Gianna and bring her. Try not to crack anything. She's betrothed."

Ben lay curled in a ball, on a thick handmade wool carpet, tucked between two immense cabinets of marble and ornately carved hardwood, situated in a vast circular room painted all around in frescoes that depicted idyllic fifteenth century country life and the joyful labors of the common man– threshers, harvesters, shepherds tending flocks, leather breeched workmen in tanneries and smithies, women with cleavers, decapitating hens and emasculating yoked bulls. The dome far above his head had been painted in powder blue accoutered with wispy clouds. Ben stared emptily at the golden legs of furniture terminated by talons and claws that gripped balls of solid crystal. The room had more contemporary embellishments as well: electric pinball machines, a giant flatpanel television, and several different game consoles.

Alec and Jane stood over him and scratched their heads with puzzlement and concern, not so much for his health and welfare, as for their possible culpability in the awful time he was having. They expected a tongue-lashing from Caius, who had exhorted them to make their honored guest comfortable, because they were clearly falling down on their jobs.

"He is plainly inconsolable," Alec appraised with worry.

"Humans are too much work," Jane declared. "I can think of better pets, without exerting myself."

Gianna was ushered in, weeping and fretting from alleged rough treatment at the hands of the thug in transit, but Alec and Jane didn't much care, since nothing seemed broken. They had bigger concerns.

"Come, wench," Jane commanded. "Appraise and advise. Our guest: Make him eat. Or I'll feed him; you can count on that."

"You get what you get, and you don't get upset," Alec agreed, in sing-song.

Gianna rushed forward, crouched protectively over the cowering human boy, and lashed back at the infernal twins with a long tirade of invective, most of it in Italian and incomprehensible to Ben, though he did catch the gist in her tone and looked up plaintively, hopeful that he had an advocate.

Jane and Alec looked at each other and squirmed, contrite and somewhat abashed.

"I didn't touch him," Jane promised, "though I certainly wanted to."

"Nor I," Alec pledged, the very soul of innocence. "He was like that, already."

Gianna castigated them now in English. "Oh, you deplorable, iniquitous, vile children! Shame. Shame on both of you. Out of my way. Go to your rooms. Out!"