“So by killing the bloodlust—“
“We found a way to preserve the body, but the elixir of life cannot preserve or sustain the mind. Though Kato does not grow physically weak, his amnis is almost gone. And that is why he operates on instinct.”
Carwyn sat up and leaned forward. “So, when Kato drank from his lover it… what? It broke him? It damaged his amnis past the point of repair? Why couldn’t he just start drinking human blood again? Wouldn’t that have fixed it?”
Arosh shrugged. “He has no desire for it. Any blood he drinks I must force on him. And I do not know why it no longer feeds his amnis when he drinks human blood. Perhaps we may never know, but yes, it has broken his amnis somehow.”
Giovanni said, “But his mind isn’t completely gone. He did recognize me. He does still have some consciousness.”
“He does now.” Arosh took a deep breath and refilled his glass. “When I first found him, it was not so.” He took another sip of wine. “Kato stayed in Kufa with Fahdil long after the rest of us had left. Ziri was the first to leave the city. Saba left. Eventually, I did, as well. I went north to my home in Persia. I did not know about Kato’s decline for several years. His energy—his amnis, as you call it—was very strong. It sustained him, but it could not maintain his mind forever. When Fahdil finally contacted me, it was because his own health was failing. The human had protected Kato as well as he could, but he knew he was dying. When I arrived back in Kufa, Fahdil was dead, and Kato had been locked in a windowless room.” Arosh frowned at the memory. “I was confused. Why was my friend confined? What chamber could even hold him? When I opened the door, I understood.”
Carwyn asked, “What had happened to him?”
Arosh’s eyes furrowed in pain. “Kato was crouched in a corner of the room. He growled at me, his oldest friend, but then cringed from the sound of his voice. He flew at me like an animal, but fell back in pain when I touched him. It was when I touched him that I realized... His amnis was almost gone. He had no shield from his senses. The slightest gust of air frayed his skin. A whisper hurt his ears. He was as a newborn vampire without any shield. Water was the only thing that soothed him.”
“So his blood still connected him to his element…”
“But he had no control of it. Not as he had before.”
Carwyn said, “So that is why he stays in the bath.”
“Yes. The water still protects him from some of his senses, so he is most comfortable there. Back in Kufa, I immediately sent for Saba. She and I had argued before she left and she was angry with me, but that was typical for us. I wrote her and told her to gather Jabir’s notes and come to my home in Persia. She is the oldest of us and the most skilled in healing. I hoped that she would know how to cure him.”
“But she didn’t?”
He shook his head. “She had some ideas. From the beginning, Saba was most reluctant to drink from the elixired humans, though she never said why. Perhaps some ancient instinct warned her where our reason and intellect did not. We finally realized that Kato’s body remained vital, but the human blood we forced on him did nothing for his mind. It was then that we tried our own blood. Since human blood did nothing, we hoped that immortal blood would help heal his mind. After all, Saba and I were both very powerful, very rich in amnis.”
“Did it?” Carwyn asked. “If human blood no longer fed his amnis, did vampire blood?”
“It did help some.” Arosh nodded. “He was less aggressive and seemed to have some recognition of us. You saw him with Giovanni earlier. It was like that. So, we tried blood of other elements. I tried giving him Samson’s blood, but it showed no improvement. I found other vampires. Older ones. I killed them if they refused. Drained them of life in the hopes that it would do something for my friend. It didn’t matter. Their blood did nothing. Finally, it was Saba who suggested that it was Kato’s own blood in us that had helped him the first time.”
Giovanni lifted his eyes from the fire. “His own blood?” His eyes darted toward Carwyn’s and he could see the expression in his friend’s eyes sharpen. “You mean that his own blood did revive his amnis? Restart him, in some way? Is his sire—”
“Kato’s sire is no more. We suspected, as you do, that the untainted blood that had sired him could heal him. Remake him in some way. It only existed faintly in those he had exchanged with, like Saba and me, but we had one other hope. If his own blood in us could heal him, then the blood of his direct line could, as well.”
Carwyn broke in again. “So, since Lucien’s amnis is damaged—dying, as it seems it is—if we could find Saba, his mother, he could be healed?”
“I believe he could, yes. Has he tried to contact her?”
“He has, but…” Carwyn shrugged helplessly.
Arosh nodded. “She appears when she wants. I know this better than any other.”
“But Kato had a son,” Giovanni said. “My father. Did he have any other children?”
“None living. Your father was the only living child of his line, and at the time, he had sired no children. His blood would be undiluted and strong. He was our best hope to heal our friend. Kato had cut Andreas off years before, so I was the one who sent for him.”
Giovanni let out a measured breath. “So, that is the favor you asked of Andros. His blood.”
Arosh leaned forward. “I invited him to my home in Persia. I asked him for this favor. I never dreamed he would refuse. I considered killing him and taking his blood, but who knew if one ingestion would be effective? Saba and I had given Kato our blood many times over a period of months. But your father was unwilling.” The ancient leaned back and shook his head. “I should have kept him captive. I thought Kato would regain his strength as time passed, and I didn’t want the irritation of Andreas as my captive. He was annoying and rather surprisingly powerful.”