I've missed you all! Quarantines are good for one thing... getting some writing done! Here, finally, is the last chapter in Demetri's saga. I hope you are all well and safe, and that you enjoy this bittersweet ending. Please drop me a review at the end to let me know what you think and how you're holding up during these tough times.

Disclaimer: This chapter borrows quite a bit of text from Stephenie Meyer's Breaking Dawn. She owns it all! Also one more note—now that this story is complete, I may go back and change the name... this ended up being far more than a "second meeting!"

The clouds rolled out like a shroud as we made our final approach. Strange; the sky had been clear all morning. Now I could taste the electricity quickening in the air as if the danger were taking form. But I cared nothing for omens now. Every distraction faded to silence as my focus sharpened. Nothing mattered save the commands of my Masters... not even my own anger.

The trees thinned, giving way to an open, snowy field. The Cullens and their allies—So many!—stood in a sloppy, broken line in the center of the field. My eyes were immediately drawn to the enormous russet-red werewolf standing guard beside the newborn Bella and the monster-child that was clung to her back. So it was true! Not only had someone done the unthinkable in creating the child, but the most unnatural of alliances had been forged.

For several moments, an uneasy silence hung in the charged air between us and our targets. I forced my eyes away from the werewolf and took stock of the crowd that had assembled in rebellion.

Carlisle and Edward stood directly in front of Bella and the child. Beside them were Rosalie and Emmett, as well as Tanya, Kate, and... Eleazar. The traitor! He should be the first to die.

Close to Bella were four vampires who were strangers to me, but for the moment I could only stare past them to a vampire who stood on the outer fringes of the assembly. Amun. My creator stared back into my eyes, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the past nine hundred years were only a dream... a mist, for it seemed nothing had changed for the man I had once called Father. His sad, accusing gaze pierced my pride just as it had on the day I had left him. Kebi stood silently at his side, as she had always done. She had not been sorry to see me go, but she clearly held me in contempt for my betrayal nonetheless. I had hurt her mate, and that could never be forgiven. I ignored her icy glare, suddenly wishing I could speak to Amun in private. I tried to convey my silent warning from where I stood, pleading with my eyes and the smallest nod off toward the woods. You are not safe here. Flee while you still can!

"Open," Caius murmured. The Reserves remembered their orders and fanned outward, stretching the line of our advance wider and thinner until we more than matched the breadth of the assembled rebels, revealing darker and darker cloaks with each step. I tore my eyes away from Amun and followed the prescribed steps to move into position. Only Jane and Alec stood between me and Aro now. An unusual anxiety prickled at the back of my neck as I thought of the Wives' vulnerable position behind us.

"The redcoats are coming, the redcoats are coming," chanted a particularly scruffy-looking American vampire who stood with the Denali sisters. Another convert? An insolent fool, whoever he was. The belligerent reference to his country's own rebellious history was clear in meaning.

Off to the far right, another movement caught my eyes. Stefan and Vladimir, looking as recklessly insane as ever. They whispered together in characteristic conspiracy, looking straight through us to the Coven. To the Wives.

Our advance was nearly complete—or so the rebels must have thought. Their golden eyes widened in dismay when the snow churned behind us again and our witnesses began to make their way into the clearing. Out of the corner of my eye I could see their timid, slipshod approach—hardly an inspiration, but enough to sap the overconfidence of those who thought they could challenge us. I was gladdened by their presence. They had every right to witness the violent justice we had brought here today.

Edward still stood unmoved in the center of the rebels, speaking urgently to Carlisle in hushed tones. Tanya, the Denali's leader, drew closer to them to listen. Their whispered council was too quiet to be heard. The wolf's huge, thudding heart was the only sound in the clearing... no. I opened my senses, fully alert, and heard the echoing thuds of other hearts, all larger than life, coming from the woods. More wolves? How many?!

The trees along the far end of the clearing shivered to reveal another sixteen werewolves, creeping out onto the field to join their brother. But they did not go to him—they fanned themselves out along the line of vampires, flanking their unlikely allies in a formation that bespoke intelligence and self-control, despite their bared teeth. A boiling rage threatened to overwhelm my control when I saw this new evidence of the Cullens' defiance. Not only had Carlisle summoned his friends to stand with him against us; he had somehow forced these brutes under his control, as well. Another army, standing ready at his command!

Caius choked out a furious command to halt. Everyone, even the wolves, stood as if frozen. The air thrummed with the amassed energy, the collective tension, and then Edward's newborn mate inched forward with murder in her blood-red eyes. No more the timid, sleepy, stumbling human, Bella looked ready to tear all of us to pieces by herself. A feral growl rumbled deep in her chest, bubbling up into a smile that promised violence. She may well have attacked alone if Edward hadn't had a grip on her hand. The strange vampires near her echoed her snarling rebellion.

Answering growls and hissed threats rippled along the loosely-formed flanks of our witnesses again. I grew more confident that they would choose to fight, if fight we did. Only Charles and Makenna were looking more uncomfortable by the second, and Irina. She was realizing too late that her sisters might die today... thanks to her.

The silence stretched on, punctuated occasionally by impatient growls. Aro stood immobile, grasping hands in council with Caius and Marcus. I took the opportunity to reach out and touch the minds of those vampires who were strangers to me. If any should escape, I would be able to find them.

Carlisle finally advanced alone. He spread his arms, holding his hands open in feigned innocence. "Aro, my old friend. It's been centuries."

Aro did not respond immediately. Marcus's hand moved ever so slightly to touch Aro's hand again. After another moment's pause, Aro advanced as well.

"Peace," he commanded gently, stopping us with a raised hand when we moved to follow him. I ached to leap forward as he moved closer and closer to the Cullens. At least Renata stayed with him, keeping her fingers in constant contact with the back of his robes. But that would not save him from a psychic attack—who knew what talents Carlisle's witnesses might possess? I dropped into a crouch, ready to spring forward to his defense at any second.

"Fair words, Carlisle," Aro said. "They seem out of place, considering the army you've assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones."

Carlisle stretched one hand forward. "You have but to touch my hand to know that was never my intent."

"But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?"

"I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for."

"The step aside," Aro said, "and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today."

Carlisle shook his head, thrusting his hand forward again. "No one has broken the law, Aro. Let me explain."

Caius could no longer contain himself in the face of Carlisle's lies. He advanced to stand at Aro's side. "So many pointless rules," he spat. "So many unnecessary laws you create for yourself, Carlisle. How is it possible that you defend the breaking of one that truly matters?"

"The law is not broken. If you would listen—"

"We see the child, Carlisle. Do not treat us as fools."

"She is not an immortal," Carlisle protested, looking increasingly desperate. "She is not a vampire. I can easily prove this with just a few moments—"

"If she is not one of the forbidden," Caius said, "then why have you massed a battalion to protect her?"

"Witnesses, Caius, just as you have brought." Carlisle said, gesturing back toward his allies. "Any one of these friends can tell you the truth about the child. Or you could just look at her, Caius. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks."

Not immortal? What new pack of lies was this? I studied the child perched on Bella's back again. Her cheeks were rosy with the cold as a human child's would be, and her eyes were an odd color—both easily falsified with human cosmetics.

"Artifice!" Caius snapped. "Where is the informer? Let her come forward!" He jerked his head around, scanning our numbers for find Irina, who was hiding behind the Wives. "You! Come!"

Irina stood frozen, too fearful to obey. Santiago finally shoved her forward. Caius met her halfway, seething in anger, and struck her across the face. He pointed at the immortal child, earning a warning growl from the red-brown wolf. "This is the child you saw?" Caius demanded. "The one that was obviously more than human? Well?"

"I..." Irina stammered. "I'm not sure."

Caius's hand twitched as though he would hit her again. "What do you mean?"

"She's not the same," Irina said, "but I think it's the same child. What I mean is, she's changed. This child is bigger than the one I saw, but —"

Caius hissed his anger, frightening Irina into silence again. Aro laid a hand on Caius's shoulder in caution. "Be composed, brother," he said. "We have time to sort this out. No need to be hasty. Now, sweetling, show me what you're trying to say." He held his hand out to Irina. Reluctantly, she reached out and surrendered her thoughts. Aro looked suddenly troubled for an instant, but almost immediately regained his composure.

"You see, Caius?" he said with a smile. "It's a simple matter to get what we need." He turned to the rest of us with a meaningful glance. "And so we have a mystery on our hands, it seems. It would appear the child has grown. Yet Irina's first memory was clearly that of an immortal child. Curious."

What? I studied the child again. No one with any sense could mistake her for a human... but growth?

Carlisle seemed to suddenly relax. "That's exactly what I'm trying to explain." He held out his hand to Aro a third time.

"I would rather have the explanation from someone more central to the story, my friend," Aro said. "Am I wrong to assume that this breach was not of your making?"

"There was no breach," Carlisle insisted again.

"Be that as it may," Aro said, "I will have every facet of the truth. And the best way to get that is to have the evidence directly from your talented son. As the child clings to his newborn mate, I'm assuming Edward was involved."

Edward turned to kiss Bella and the child, the very picture of domestic humanity. He stepped forward, clapping Carlisle on the shoulder as he passed by him. Behind him, Bella and Esme whimpered in terror as they watched Edward leave the safety of his assembly. But suddenly, a moment later, a strange laugh burst from Bella's lips. Had she gone mad already, like the others?

Aro stepped forward eagerly, grasping Edward's hand the moment it was in reach. Edward stared at him in open defiance briefly, then closed his eyes. They both tensed, overwhelmed by the onslaught of information. Edward's memory must be flooded with not only the events surrounding the child's creation, but also the thoughts of all his allies since their gathering—invaluable evidence. Anger burned through me again as I thought of young Edward's disdain for my Master's generous offer. To think he had turned his back on the rare opportunity to serve among the elite, only to waste his talent and his life like this!

Alec and Jane stirred beside me, holding themselves ready.

"You see?" Edward said.

Aro slowly raised his head, still holding Edward's hand. "Yes, I see, indeed. I doubt whether any two among gods or mortals have ever seen quite so clearly. You have given me much to ponder, young friend. Much more than I expected. May I meet her? I never dreamed of the existence of such a thing in all my centuries. What an addition to our histories!"

"What is this, Aro?" Caius demanded.

"Something you've never dreamed of, my practical friend. Take a moment to ponder, for the justice we intended to deliver no longer applies. Peace, brother."

I nearly stepped back in my shock. Was it possible that Aro would acquit them of all their crimes—that we had come here for nothing? I glanced down our line and saw the same disbelief on many faces, and a dangerous impatience building in the ranks of our witnesses. It would not be wise to let them down. Master, I thought in alarm, as if he could hear me. Do not delay! Give the command!

Aro and Edward agreed to meet in the middle. I nearly wept in relief when he called me forward to accompany him along with Renata and Felix. I flashed to his side and felt the reassuring warmth of Renata's shield envelop me.

"Bella," Edward called to his mate. "Bring Renesmee... and a few friends."

The wolf advanced along with Bella and the child. Next came the largest yellow-eye, Emmett. His eager grin reminded me strikingly of Felix. My skin crawled as the wolf drew near... too near.

"Interesting company you keep, Edward," I muttered.

Felix chuckled. "Hello again, Bella."

"Hey, Felix."

"You look good. Immortality suits you."

"Thanks so much."

"You're welcome. It's too bad..."

"Yes, too bad, isn't it?" Bella's smile grew deadly again.

She really is something, Edward, I thought pointedly. And you have thrown her life away like this. For what? He ignored me again, keeping his eyes trained on Aro. Only the muscles in his neck tensed in reaction.

And then I heard it. As Bella drew closer, a single heartbeat separated itself from the pounding chorus of the wolves' hearts. This one was small, rapid in its pulse...

It couldn't be.

But it was. The child in Bella's arms had a beating heart. A trick? Some device playing a recording? But I could see the telltale quiver in her jacket with each thump-thump. And her eyes... they were certainly brown. They weren't contact lenses.

What is this? Is she human or not? I demanded of Edward, who ignored me yet again. Up close, the child's skin did appear to be somewhat different. A stray snowflake fluttered down, landed on her pale cheek, and... melted.

"I hear her strange heart," murmured Aro. "I smell her strange scent. In truth, young Bella, immortality does become you most extraordinarily. It is as if you were designed for this life." He indicated the jewel at her throat. "You liked my gift?"

"It's beautiful," Bella said, "and very, very generous of you. Thank you. I probably should have sent a note."

Aro finally laughed. "It's just a little something I had lying around. I thought it might complement your new face, and so it does."

I heard a hiss of jealous rage behind me: Jane.

"May I greet your daughter, lovely Bella?" Aro asked.

Bella hesitated, then closed the distance between them. I could feel an alien heat radiating from the creature she clutched in her arms.

"But she's exquisite," Aro said to Bella. "So like you and Edward. Hello, Renesmee."

The child looked at Bella and then back to Aro. "Hello, Aro," she said in a thin, high voice.

"What is it?" Caius hissed.

"Half mortal," Aro announced, "half immortal. Conceived so, and carried by this newborn while she was still human."

"Impossible!" Caius said. I heard the word echo through our ranks, through the witnesses. A... hybrid? Conceived?

"Do you think they've fooled me, then, brother?" Aro said in amusement. "Is the heartbeat you hear a trickery as well? Calmly and carefully, brother. I know well how you love your justice, but there is no justice in acting against this unique little one for her parentage. And so much to learn! I know you don't have my enthusiasm for collecting histories, but be tolerant with me, brother, as I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability. We came expecting only justice and the sadness of false friends, but look what we have gained instead! A new, bright knowledge of ourselves, our possibilities."

He held out his hand to the creature Renesmee, but she reached up to touch his face. I trembled with the danger, holding myself ready.

"Brilliant," Aro whispered when he heard her thoughts. What had he heard? Was she as civil as she appeared?

"Please?" the girl asked in her tiny voice.

Aro smiled indulgently. "Of course I have no desire to harm your loved ones, precious Renesmee." He stood taller and looked past Edward to the wolves that stood sentinel around the Cullens' allies. "I wonder..."

"It doesn't work that way," Edward scoffed. "They don't belong to us, Aro. They don't follow our commands that way.

"Just an errant thought..." Aro mused. "You well know how that is. We none of us can entirely control our subconscious desires."

"Here we go..." Felix said in the slightest whisper.

I shifted impatiently as Aro's interrogation suddenly devolved into a flight of fancy about werewolves. As much as the thought pained me, I hated it when he did this. My Master was curious if he was anything, and imaginative in his genius... but there was a time and place for that. The witnesses on both sides of the field were growing impatient, confused. This was supposed to be a grave proceeding. In times like these, I wished my Master would... well, of course he knew what he was about. I merely wanted our witnesses to leave the field today with the utmost respect for our justice—regardless of whatever balance of mercy and punishment we meted out in the end. I did not want stories spread about the Volturi stalling.

Aro finally signaled for the others to join us. I couldn't resist a lofty smirk as Edward and his strange friends practically stumbled backwards away from the advancing Guard.

Caius's quick steps rustled in the snow as he stormed forward. He was seething now... reckless. If Aro's whimsical tangents were frustrating, Caius's anger was frightening in its capriciousness. Especially when werewolves were involved.

"How can you abide this infamy?" he demanded of Aro. "Why do we stand here impotently in the face of such an outrageous crime, covered by such a ridiculous deception?" I winced at his tirade. Why did he not keep silent and touch Aro's hand?! Not for the first time, I wished Marcus would come out of his stupor and lead.

"Because it's all true," Aro said. "Every word of it. See how many witnesses stand ready to give evidence that they have seen this miraculous child grow and mature in just the short time they've known her. That they have felt the warmth of the blood that pulses in her veins."

"The werewolves," Caius blurted out after a moment's hesitation.

"Ah, brother..." Aro warned, silently pleading with him to give it up.

"Will you defend that alliance, too, Aro?" Caius demanded. "The Children of the Moon have been our bitter enemies from the dawn of time. We have hunted them to near extinction in Europe and Asia. Yet Carlisle encourages a familiar relationship with this enormous infestation—no doubt in an attempt to overthrow us. The better to protect his warped lifestyle."

Edward cleared his throat, daring to look amused. "Caius... it's the middle of the day." He gestured to the reddish monster who stood mere inches away from his so-called family. "These are not Children of the Moon, clearly. They bear no relation to your enemies on the other side of the world."

So what? I shouted at Edward in my mind while the conversation degraded yet again into minutia. You think that excuses your blatant disregard for law and tradition? An enemy is an enemy! But even I was forced to see, finally, how different these creatures were from the werewolves I had hunted with Caius before. Their appearance was similar to normal werewolves—not identical, I realized on closer examination—but it was their intelligent behavior that really made the difference. The werewolves I had encountered lost their sentience the moment they phased. True, there was some feral sense of command structure and some instinctual communication, but nothing like this. The reddish wolf and all its fellows stood patient, listening, obedient... no. Loyal. The word tasted strange in my mind. Was everything I knew to be turned on its head today?

"I would have warned you not to press this point if you had told me your thoughts," Aro was saying to Caius.

"They know our secret," Caius said. Finally—an accusation that no one could explain away. A sentient werewolf was one who could remember and betray anything he had seen while in either form.

Aro shook his head. "They are creatures of our supernatural world, brother. Perhaps even more dependent upon secrecy than we are; they can hardly expose us. Carefully, Caius. Specious allegations get us nowhere."

Why?! Why did Aro insist on defending them at every point? Why did he quarrel openly with Caius in front of the accused—in front of the vampire public! Stop, I pleaded silently. Let Caius have his crime! Let their mob have their thrill!

"I want to talk to the informant," Caius blurted out, seemingly having forgotten that he had already done so. "Irina!" he shouted when she did not respond. She trudged again to the front of our formation, looking more upset than ever.

"So you appear to have been quite mistaken in your allegations," Caius began. Those of us in the Guard perked up, ready again for orders. The trial had suddenly taken on a new meaning. Bearing false witness was a serious crime.

"I'm sorry," Irina whispered. "I should have made sure of what I was seeing. But I had no idea..." She gestured helplessly toward the Cullens. Toward the child.

"Dear Caius, could you expect her to have guessed in an instant something so strange and impossible?" Aro said. "Any of us would have made the same assumption."

"We all know you made a mistake," Caius said to Irina, practically spitting out the words. "I meant to speak of your motivations."

"My... motivations?" Irina said.

"Yes, for coming to spy on them in the first place. You were unhappy with the Cullens, were you not?"

"I was," Irina admitted. She turned to face Carlisle and the others, looking more pitiful by the moment.

"Because...?" Caius said.

"Because the werewolves killed my friend," Irina whispered. "And the Cullens wouldn't stand aside to let me avenge him."

"The shape-shifters," Aro corrected.

"So," Caius said with satisfaction, "the Cullens sided with the shape-shifters against our own kind—against the friend of a friend, even."

Edward scoffed, and he wasn't the only one.

"That's all they can come up with?" Ahmed whispered to one of his nomad friends. A near-silent buzz of similar reactions rippled through our witnesses. Some idiot even dared to laugh, though he choked it back at the last second. I burned with anger at their insolence. At my own embarrassment.

"If you'd like to make a formal complaint against the shape-shifters," Caius went on, "and the Cullens for supporting their actions, now would be the time." He smirked in triumph.

"No," Irina said. Her fear seemed to suddenly drop away. She lifted her chin, stood taller. "I have no complaint against the wolves or the Cullens. You came here today to destroy an immortal child. No immortal child exists. This was my mistake, and I take full responsibility for it. But the Cullens are innocent, and you have no reason to still be here. I'm so sorry," she called out to her yellow-eyed coven... to her family.

Caius's hand drifted toward his pocket. No...

"There was no crime," Irina insisted. There's no valid reason for you to continue here—"

She was dead less than a second later.

.

.

.

In the moments following the execution, time slowed... for all of us. The purple smoke bloomed and uncurled and boiled upward, releasing a burnt perversion of Irina's scent into the cold air like a drug. I inhaled the scent reflexively in my shock, my profound sadness. Of all those who I had thought deserved to die today... This was wrong. Not only had Irina made every effort to honor the law—her mistake had already been pardoned by Aro. Even her betrayal of her coven was more than understandable, if the werewolves' victim had been her mate. But she had even made that right, in the end. She had shown more courage and fortitude than I had seen in a very, very long time.

Say it was wrong, I pleaded silently to Aro. This was Caius, nothing but Caius's petty, childish cruelty. Do not let this stand!

But for the briefest moment, Aro and Caius's eyes met. For all their quarreling in front of the wrong people today, they were now in complete agreement. Had this been their plan all along, if the trial should fail? Provoke the rebels into attacking?

If it was a plan, it had certainly worked. Tanya and Kate sprang forward with agonizing cries of fury. Caius watched their attack with a deadly, angelic smile that reminded me disturbingly of Jane.

But Edward's gift saved them. He leapt to block them in the very same instant they began to move. Carlisle helped him tackle Tanya. Rosalie plowed into Kate, but she collapsed an instant later in electric pain. Emmett tried, too, only to crumple to the ground alongside his mate. One of the nomads—the cheeky one who had mocked us as Redcoats—tackled Kate next, and he was somehow able to hold on despite the pain. The delay was enough; the Cullens had another surprise in store for us.

"Zafrina!" Edward cried out.

Tanya and Kate both stilled suddenly. "Give me back my sight!" Tanya screamed. Garrett's eyes opened in relief even though he still held Kate in the vise of his arms.

"Alec?" I said in surprise, turning to the boy beside me. But he shook his head, perplexed.

"It's the tall one," Jane hissed. I scanned the Cullen's allies and saw the sudden, intense focus on the face of the tall, dark woman who stood behind Bella.

"Zafrina," Aro breathed. "She puts you to shame, Alec... what a gift! And see, brother, how Bella's git has grown! Marvelous!"

Kate's psychic attack was being blocked by some power—there was no doubt. The vampire who held her was clearly not in pain anymore despite her obvious effort. Had Bella's shield truly become this powerful?

Tanya and Kate finally regained their composure enough to stop their attack. They both fell to pieces, weeping in the arms of the friends that held them.

"Irina has been punished for bearing false witness against this child," Aro announced. "Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand." He and Renata began to move forward again, and we followed. "Just to be thorough, I'd like to speak to a few of your witnesses. Procedure, you know." He waved his hand dismissively and zipped over to stand just a few feet from Amun and Kebi. I burned with inexplicable shame as I drew near to my creator. Years seemed to fall away with each step.

Father.

He stared at me, completely ignoring Aro at first. Amun was a passionate man, prone to violent rages and equally known for his tender displays. For the briefest of moments, I thought he was about to stride through the snow and embrace me... or strike me. Perhaps both.

"Ah, Amun, my southern neighbor," Aro said kindly. "It has been so long since you visited me."

"Time means little," Amun murmured back. "I never notice its passing."

"So true," Aro agreed. "But maybe you had another reason to stay away?"

Amun held his tongue.

"It can be terribly time-consuming to organize newcomers into a coven. I know that well! I'm grateful I have others to deal with the tedium. I'm glad your new additions have fit in so well. I would have loved to have been introduced. I'm sure you were meaning to come to see me soon."

"Of course," Amun ground out, staring straight ahead at nothing.

Newcomers?! I followed Kebi's gaze back toward the Cullens, but it was the boy kneeling on the ground behind Bella who was watching us with fearful interest. His hands were buried deep in the snow. Him? And the female edging closer to touch his shoulder? Amun had replaced me?! The hot pain of jealousy sliced into my heart.

"Oh well." Aro laughed right in Amun's face. "We're all together now! Isn't it lovely! But the reason for your presence here is not as pleasant, unfortunately. Carlisle called on you to witness?"

"Yes."

"And what did you witness for him?

"I've observed the child in question," Amun said slowly, carefully. "It was evident almost immediately that she was not an immortal child—"

"Perhaps we should define our terminology, "Aro interrupted, turning to share a meaningful look with Caius, "now that there seem to be new classifications. By immortal child, you mean of course a human child who had been bitten and thus transformed into a vampire."

"Yes, that's what I meant," Amun answered.

"What else did you observe about the child?"

"The same thing you surely saw in Edward's mind. That the child is his biologically. That she grows. That she learns."

"Yes, yes," Aro said impatiently. "But specifically in your few weeks here, what did you see?"

Be careful, Father, I thought, trying to catch his eye again.

Amun hesitated. "That she grows... quickly."

Aro smiled. "And do you believe that she should be allowed to live?"

Instantly, a buzz of angry protest rippled through the crowd... on both sides of the field. Amun glanced around, looking increasingly uncomfortable. Was there any right answer to Aro's question here? I moved to stretch my hand out to my creator, nearly forgetting that he had no way to read my thoughts.

"I... did not come to make judgments," he said carefully.

"Just your opinion," Aro urged.

Amun hesitated again, then stood up straighter... just as Irina had. "I see no danger in the child," he said. "She learns even more swiftly than she grows."

I tensed to spring, watching Caius out the corner of my eye. If he moved to execute Amun now, I would stop him. And I would die for it. But several of us let out a silent sigh of relief when Aro turned away, scanning the line of witnesses for the next question.

"Aro?" Amun called.

"Yes, friend?" Aro answered eagerly, spinning back around.

"I gave my witness. I have no more business here. My mate and I would like to take our leave now."

Aro nodded his permission. "Of course. I'm so glad we were able to chat for a bit. And I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

Amun bowed his head—almost in time to hide the belligerent grimace I knew so well. He looked at me one last time.

"Father," I whispered. "I wish—"

What did I wish?

He looked past me to the boy kneeling in the snow, and then he was gone. He had taken his mate and disappeared into the trees without acknowledging either of his... sons. I wondered, in a flash of pity, what the boy must think of his creator's escape. An act of cowardice, if ever there was one. And futility. Running from the Volturi was a meaningless exercise when they had me to... No. Not Amun. I won't. The decision burned bright in my mind in its rightness.

"Hello, dear Siobhan," Aro said this time. "You are as lovely as ever."

Siobhan inclined her head respectfully. She showed no fear.

"And you," Aro asked her. "Would you answer my questions the same way Amun has?"

"I would," she said. "But I would perhaps add a little more. Renesmee understands the limitations. She's no danger to humans—she blends in better than we do. She poses no threat of exposure."

"Can you think of none?" Aro asked sadly.

Edward's sudden growl tore through the quiet. The nomad who had stopped Kate moved closer a step. There was a fire burning in his eyes this time.

"I don't think I follow you," Siobhan said, slowly.

Aro backed away from her a little. "There is no broken law," he began. "No broken law. However, does it follow then that there is no danger? No. That is a separate issue."

The girl standing next to Siobhan—a vampire I'd not yet become acquainted with—shook her head, staring up at Aro with disgust written all over her face. Over to my far right, Charles was doing the same thing. He bent to whisper something in Makenna's ear.

"How ironic it is that as the humans advance, as their faith in science grows and controls their world, the more free we are from discovery," Aro said. He was still pacing, slowly weaving his way deeper back into the safety of our formation. Renata trailed him with each step. "Yet, as we become ever more uninhibited by their disbelief in the supernatural, they become strong enough in their technologies that, if they wished, they could actually pose a threat to us, even destroy some of us.

"For thousands and thousands of years, our secrecy has been more a matter of convenience, of ease, than of actual safety. This last raw, angry century has given birth to weapons of such power that they endanger even immortals. Now our status as mere myth in truth protects us from these weak creatures we hunt.

"This amazing child"—he pointed to Renesmee—"if we could but know her potential—know with absolute certainty that she could always remain shrouded within the obscurity that protects us. But we know nothing of what she will become! Her own parents are plagued by fears of her future. We cannot know what she will grow to be." He slowly turned and looked, pleading, reluctant, to the two crowds of witnesses. I suddenly noticed that the Cullens and their allies had been slowly drawing into a tighter, uniform group, while our own line of witnesses had loosened and spread. No... some of them were bunched together, studying the proceedings with looks of confusion and distrust, leaning toward one another here and there to speak under their breath.

"Only the known is safe," Aro concluded. "Only the known is tolerable. The unknown is... a vulnerability."

Lies, a voice shouted in my mind. It was so clear, for a moment I was sure that someone here had a gift of speaking into others' minds. But no one was even looking at me. The lie spoke for itself. Aro loved the unknown, even the unsafe. He lived and breathed discoveries like this. What ploy was this? I heard Charles's urgent whisper buzzing off to my right again.

"You're reaching, Aro," Carlisle called out.

"Peace, friend," Aro soothed, holding his hands up in defense. "Let us not be hasty. Let us look at this from every side."

"May I offer a side to be considered?" Kate's nomad friend stepped forward.

"Nomad," Aro said, nodding.

"That's Garrett," Makenna said in answer to someone's question.

"I came here at Carlisle's request, as the others, to witness," Garrett began. "That is certainly no longer necessary, with regard to the child. We all see what she is.

"I stayed to witness something else," he went on, turning on us and pointing rudely. Or perhaps he meant the witnesses. "You. Two of you I know—Makenna, Charles—and I can see that many of you others are also wanderers, roamers like myself. Answering to none. Think carefully on what I tell you now.

"These ancient ones did not come here for justice as they told you. We suspected as much, and now it has been proved. They came, misled, but with a valid excuse for their action. Witness now as they seek flimsy excuses to continue their true mission. Witness them struggle to find a justification for their true purpose—to destroy this family here." He swung his arm around, pointing to Carlisle, Tanya, all the yellow-eyes.

"The Volturi come to erase what they perceive as the competition. Perhaps, like me, you look at this clan's golden eyes and marvel. They are difficult to understand, it's true. But the ancient ones look and see something besides their strange choice. They see power."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charles nodding.

Garrett wasn't finished. "I have witnessed the bonds within this family—I say family and not coven. These strange golden-eyed ones deny their very natures. But in return have they found something worth even more, perhaps, that mere gratification of desire? I've made a little study of them in my time here, and it seems to me that intrinsic to this intense family binding—that which makes them possible at all—is the peaceful character of this life of sacrifice. There is no aggression here like we all saw in the large southern clans that grew and diminished so quickly in their wild feuds. There is no thought for domination. And Aro knows this better than I do.

"Carlisle assured us all, when he told us what was coming, that he did not call us here to fight. These witnesses agreed to give evidence, to slow the Volturi advance with their presence so that Carlisle would get the chance to present his case.

"But some of us wondered"—he looked pointedly at Eleazar—"if Carlisle having truth on his side would be enough to stop the so-called justice. Are the Volturi here to protect the safety of our secrecy, or protect their own power? Did they come to destroy an illegal creation or a way of life? Could they be satisfied when the danger turned out to be no more than a misunderstanding? Or would they push the issue without the excuse of justice?

"We have the answer to all these questions. We heard it in Aro's lying words—we have one with a gift of knowing such things for certain—and we see it now in Caius's eager smile. Their guard is just a mindless weapon, a tool in their masters' quest for domination."

My chest was heaving now as I listened. Was it anger? I wasn't sure anymore.

"So now there are more questions," Garrett went on. "Questions that you must answer. Who rules you, nomads? Do you answer to someone's will besides your own? Are you free to choose your path, or will the Volturi decide how you will live?

"I came to witness. I stay to fight! The Volturi care nothing for the death of the child. They seek the death of our free will. So come, I say!" he added in challenge, turning to face Aro and Caius again. "Let's hear no more lying rationalizations. Be honest in your intents as we will be honest in ours. We will defend our freedom! You will or will not attack it. Choose now, and let these witnesses see the true issue debated here."

He strode down the line, fast approaching our group of witnesses. "You might consider joining us," he said, earning the shocked silence of his listeners. "If you think the Volturi will let you live to tell this tale, you are mistaken. We may all be destroyed... but then again, maybe not. Perhaps we are on more equal footing than they know. Perhaps the Volturi have finally met their match. I promise you this, though. If we fall, so do you." He punctuated his fiery speech with a bold retreat, turning his back on us. He swaggered back to his place and sank into battle readiness beside Kate.

Aro slowly stepped forward, brushing his fingers against Marcus's hand. "A very pretty speech, my revolutionary friend."

Garrett cocked his head. "Revolutionary? Who am I revolting against, might I ask? Are you my king? Do you wish me to call you master, too, like your sycophantic guard?"

"Peace, Garrett," Aro said. "I meant only to refer to your time of birth. Still a patriot, I see."

Garrett held his peace, staring back in stony, resolute silence. The defiant look was mirrored on nearly every face in the crowd facing us. Something flipped upside down inside me as I saw not only the stubborn, dangerous defense the yellow-eyes had drawn together to rally around the child; I saw a movement. This improbable gathering may have been summoned for one reason, but now Garrett's words represented their purpose truly: they now rallied around a cause for freedom, for open fairness. Inconceivable as it was, we were the ones on trial now.

"Let us ask our witnesses," Aro called out. "Let us hear their thoughts before we make our decision. Tell us, friends"—he turned in a broad circle to include us all—"what do you think of all this? I can assure you the child is not what we feared. Do we take the risk and let the child live? Do we put our world in jeopardy to preserve their family intact? Or does earnest Garrett have the right of it?" He smiled in tolerant amusement. "Will you join them in a fight against our sudden quest for dominion?"

Confusion and silence, again. If they were a family, as Aro himself had said, and no crime had been committed, why was the trial suddenly back on course? Was he now appealing to the mob as a jury, offering his weakness as proof of his intentions? A way out? Or were he and Caius rooting out dissension, as Garrett was convinced? Marking those who dared speak as traitors, slated for discreet elimination another day? How many would I be hunting down after this, doling out the penalty for honest courage? Or were we preparing for battle on the slim remains of our accusations: the judgment that a crime might someday be committed by a person who had shown every reason for her ability to resist such an action? Just so we could root it out all at once?

The scene and the words swirled in my mind, leaving me grasping for an anchor. Not Aro, certainly not Caius, not the faithless Amun, not the mysterious pull I felt toward Garrett's words.

"Are those our only choices?" a voice burst out.

"Of course not, charming Makenna," Aro said, looking shocked. "You may go in peace, of course, as Amun did, even if you disagree with the council's decision."

Makenna looked up at Charles. "We did not come here for a fight," she decided. "We came here to witness. And our witness is that this condemned family is innocent. Everything that Garrett claimed is the truth."

"Ah," Aro said sadly. "I'm sorry you see us in that way. But such is the nature of our work."

"It is not what I see, but what I feel," Charles blurted out, weakly at first. He took a deep breath, assuming the same resolute posture of the others that had spoken. "Garrett said they have ways of knowing lies. I, too, know when I am hearing the truth, and when I am not..." He caught himself, his last words choking back in anxiety. He shrank his tall form closer to Makenna, waiting.

"Do not fear us, friend Charles," Aro said smoothly. "No doubt the patriot truly believes what he says."

Charles could not bring himself to answer, but his expression of disgust spoke volumes, and it was matched by the girl standing at Siobhan's side: it is another lie.

It was! That was all Garrett's speech had been: beliefs. It was a matter of historical debate how subjective the gift of candor was, but in this case, there was no distinction to be made. And Aro had condemned himself with the very words: his own intention was to deceive. It was plain as day, as plain as Caius's increasingly desperate attempts had been, working and manipulating to make any accusation stick.

My hand crept up inside my cloak and tugged nervelessly at the chain that lay across my throat. It was beginning to feel strangely tight. I felt restrained by it, like some force was holding me back from doing... something. I felt words bubbling up like a thirst inside my throat, and I did not know what they were.

"That is our witness," Makenna said, stepping backwards towards the woods and pulling Charles with her. "We're leaving now."

I felt movement directly behind me. I turned just in time to see Ahmed flee as well. All three of them were gone. Others looked rooted to the ground, torn between the woods and... the other side of the field. Caius drew in his breath sharply.

Aro rounded on us, finally addressing the Guard alone. "We are outnumbered, dearest ones," he said. "We can expect no outside help. Should we leave this question undecided to save ourselves?"

"No, Master," we answered in perfect unison.

No, not perfect. Something was missing.

"Is the protection of our world worth perhaps the loss of some of our number?" Aro pleaded, staring at each of us with wide eyes.

"Yes," we breathed. "We are not afraid."

No. Something was wrong... it was me. I had not spoken with the others. My lips had moved, only to produce silence. And if I was not mistaken, mine was not the only voice that had failed. My hand pulled harder, downward on the velvet inside my cloak.

"Brothers," Aro said grandly, "there is much to consider here."

"Let us council," Caius agreed.

"Let us council," Marcus sighed. The Three joined hands in the familiar posture of judgment, a shrouded pyramid.

The moment their eyes closed, two more of our witness crept away into the woods.

None of the rebels had left since Amun and Kebi. Instead they were drawing together, each to their own coven or to their new friends. They spoke softly, embraced one another, realigned themselves in their readiness. But their posture was not one of attack: it was simple defense, and not the desperate hatred of criminals. Pure, sorrowful, doomed resistance.

Bella and Edward clutched the child tightly for a moment, then placed her up to sit between the huge shoulders of the red wolf. She was crying. Edward buried his face in the wolf's fur. Esme stepped forward, tenderly touching the faces of each of her children as she moved to stand at her mate's side. Garrett and Kate held their heads together, whispering. And behind the Cullens, still kneeling with one hand buried in the snow, Amun's new son bade a silent farewell to his mate.

Edward turned away from the wolf, locking his gaze on me. His expression was dispassionate, almost... apologetic. Then his jaw hardened and he nodded slightly, lowering himself for the attack. I was his first target, then. So be it.

"Chelsea is trying to break our bindings," he whispered to his mate. I could read the words on his lips, plain as day.

Chelsea. Chelsea?

A storm of memories broke over me as I turned and watched Chelsea's face. She was staring down the rebels. Intense, intimate focus. I saw the same picture in my mind, a thousand years ago. She had looked at me that very same way on the day I had decided to leave Amun. When I had felt inexplicably discontented, a few times over the intervening centuries. Every time she had helped me, eased me out of my unhappiness...

Or had she been easing me back into something? What "bindings" did Edward mean, and what did it mean for her to break them?

Innumerable pictures filled my mind now, and Chelsea's expression filled each one. Times she had helped new Guards adjust to life in the castle. The time we had eradicated Hilda's coven and rejoiced in Heidi's sudden change of heart. Times when nomads had reported in, even when diplomats from other ruling covens had visited. When young Renata had decided to bid farewell to her creator Luca and her life of wandering with him. Again and again, Chelsea had been present. Then with a chill, I remembered the reason given once for the color of her cloak, despite the fact—in my opinion—that she was merely a drug: that she had once done an indispensable service for Marcus in the very darkest hour of his long life. I looked with new eyes at the profound weariness in my third Master's face as he passively allowed Aro to grip his hand. What had she done for him all those years ago? What was she doing now?

"Carlisle? Are you all right?" Edward said suddenly, standing back up out of his crouch. Carlisle murmured something in response.

"Jane," Edward told him, then slowly turned to face Bella. Her eyes were wide with concentration again.

"Bella," Jane hissed beside me. A tiny shriek rumbled in her throat and she inched forward, sweeping her angry gaze over the crowd of rebels.

Nothing happened.

"Incredible," Edward breathed, and a smile threatened to fracture the tension in his young face. Tanya hissed something too quick to be heard.

"Normal procedure," Edward answered, loud enough for all to hear. "they usually incapacitate those on trial so they can't escape."

Bella smiled then, mocking Jane directly. There was no mistaking the intent. The Romanians were laughing in glee now.

Jane finally screamed in frustration. Alec stepped forward and tucked her under his arm, adding his focus to her own. I waited, holding my breath. But before Alec's slow-moving gift could reach the Cullens, the earth rumbled under our feet without warning. The Three broke apart abruptly when they heard a fissure crack its way through the ground at unnatural speed. In an instant it had ripped a chasm across the field, dividing us from our foes. A violent wind stirred up the snow. Through the swirling curtain of white, I could see Amun's young creation holding his arms in the air, writhing, spinning with the current of the wind... directing it.

Incredible!

The vapor of Alec's gift still ghosted across the chasm without effort toward the rebels, only to stop and diffuse like a wasted breath against an invisible window. As the wisps of shadow spread, we began to see the shape of Bella's defense outlined by the passage of the vapor. It was round and expansive, surrounding their entire company. It even stretched out to envelop the wolves.

I added my own test. I closed my eyes and tried to pinpoint where each of the rebels stood.

They were gone. Gone as surely as if they had ceased to exist. I opened my eyes, half expecting the field to stand empty. But there they all were, safe behind Bella's protection. Safe from Jane and Alec and... Chelsea. Safe from me, at least for now.

"Well done, Bella!" the boy cried, throwing up his arms. The snow traced the same joyous path upward and away, reversing its direction in an instant. The Cullens and their allies began to chatter together with renewed energy, huddling close in their plans.

"Before we vote..." Aro began.

Silence! I thundered in my mind. Can you not see your charade is ended?! That you have laid bare our shame?

"Let me remind you," Aro called out, holding his arms up for attention, "whatever the council's decision, there need by no violence here!"

Edward laughed in his face.

"It will be a regrettable waste to our kind to lose any of you. But you especially, young Edward, and your newborn mate. The Volturi would be glad to welcome many of you into our ranks. Bella, Benjamin, Zafrina, Kate. There are many choices before you. Consider them."

Join or die, is that it? Edward had said many months ago when he was first on trial.

I heard a cracking sound. Off to my left, Chelsea's fists tightened so hard at her side with effort that her skin was beginning to split open. No, I thought with unexpected relief. It would not work this time. Whether because of Bella's shield or the unusual bonds Garrett had ascribed to the yellow-eyes, or perhaps both, no one moved to answer Aro's offer.

The boy—Benjamin, Aro had called him—looked pointedly away from Aro's hopeful gaze, up into the darkening sky. The clouds began to roll together into one massive, flashing plain above our heads.

"Let us vote, then," Aro said sadly.

Caius was first. "The child is an unknown quantity. There is no reason to allow such a risk to exist. It must be destroyed, along with all who protect it."

"I see no immediate danger," Marcus said heavily. "The child is safe enough for now. We can always reevaluate later. Let us leave in peace."

Would Aro accept it? A compromise, one that spared the last shreds of our pride and perhaps even our reputation... for now. It was enough. But Edward bared his teeth when Aro drew breath to speak; there would be no compromise.

"I must make the deciding vote, it seems—"

"Aro!" Edward's triumphant shout startled us all.

"Yes, Edward?" Aro said warily. "You have something further...?"

"Perhaps," Edward said quickly. "First, if I could clarify one point?"

"Certainly."

"The danger you foresee from my daughter—this stems entirely from our inability to guess how she will develop? That is the crux of the matter?"

"Yes, friend Edward," Aro agreed. "If we could but be positive... be sure that, as she grows, she will be able to stay concealed from the human world—not endanger the safety of our obscurity..."

"So, if we could only know for sure," Edward said, "exactly what she will become... then there would be no need for a council at all?"

"If there was some way to be absolutely sure," Aro said. "Then, yes, there would be no questions for debate."

"And we would part in peace, good friends once again?" Edward asked. The irony must have choked him.

"Of course, my young friend. Nothing would please me more."

Edward laughed. He was practically glowing now. "Then I have something more to offer."

"She is absolutely unique," Aro protested. "Her future can only be guessed at."

"Not absolutely unique," Edward said. "Rare, certainly, but not one of a kind... Aro, would you ask Jane to stop attacking my wife? We are still discussing evidence."

Aro raised his hand, seemingly unaware of the damning insult Edward's revelation carried. "Peace, dear ones. Let us hear him out."

Edward turned toward the woods behind his allies, no longer trying to hide his exultant smile. "Why don't you join us, Alice?" he called out.

"Alice? Alice!" a dozen voices whispered at once. I whipped my attention away from Edward and stretched out my gift around the dead space of Bella's shield. Alice was indeed here—and she was not alone. The small woman broke through the dark wall of the forest, followed instantly by her mate. She danced over to us like she made this kind of entrance every day. He looked ready to kill.

Three more vampires followed them into the clearing. One looked very similar to the woman Zafrina, one was a smaller woman with a long, dark braid, and the male... he was already close enough for us to hear his thrumming heartbeat.

Another hybrid!

They all made a beeline for the Cullens. Alice and Jasper greeted them in silent welcome.

"Wait," Felix whispered beside me. "They walked through the shield." The news quietly sped through our ranks in an instant. Bella was now a physical target; her death would be Caius's first order of business if Edward's new evidence failed to move Aro. I desperately wished it would. If the order to attack was given now, I honestly did not know how I would respond... which way I would run. I felt a peculiar longing to be as anonymous, as small as any of the nomads scattered on the edges of the scene.

"Alice has been searching for her own witnesses these last weeks," Edward announced. "And she has not come back empty-handed. Alice, why don't you introduce the witnesses you've brought?"

"The time for witnesses is past! Cast your vote, Aro!"

Aro silenced Caius with a raised hand, entranced with the new arrivals.

Alice marched right up to the Three. "This is Huilen and her nephew, Nahuel."

"Speak, Huilen," Aro said. "Give us the witness you were brought to bear."

The stranger hesitated for a moment, then found her voice. "I am Huilen," she said with an unfamiliar accent. "A century and a half ago, I lived with my people, the Mapuche. My sister was Pire. Our parents named her after the snow on the mountains because of her fair skin. And she was very beautiful—too beautiful. She came to me one day in secret and told me of an angel that found her in the woods, that visited her by night. I warned her." Huilen shook her head sadly. "As if the bruises on her skin were not warning enough. I knew it was the Libishomen of our legends, but she would not listen. She was bewitched.

"She told me when she was sure her dark angel's child was growing inside her. I didn't try to discourage her plan to run away—I knew even our father and mother would agree that the child must be destroyed, Pire with it. I went with her into the deepest parts of the forest. She searched for her demon angel but found nothing. I cared for her, hunted for her when her strength failed. She ate the animals raw, drinking their blood. I needed no more confirmation of what she carried in her womb. I hoped to save her life before I killed the monster.

"But she loved the child inside her. She called him Nahual, after the jungle cat, when he grew strong and broke her bones—and loved him still.

"I could not save her. The child ripped his way free of her, and she died quickly, begging all the while that I would care for her Nahuel. Her dying wish—and I agreed. He bit me, though, when I tried to lift him from her body. I crawled away into the jungle to die. I didn't get far—the pain was too much. But he found me. The newborn child struggled through the underbrush to my side and waited for me. When the pain ended, he was curled against my side, sleeping.

"I cared for him until he was able to hunt for himself. We hunted the villages around our forest, staying to ourselves. We have never come so far from home, but Nahuel wished to see the child here."

"Nahuel," Aro said gravely. He studied the youth for a moment. "You are one hundred and fifty years old?"

"Give or take a decade," the hybrid answered. "We don't keep track."

"And you reached maturity at what age?"

"About seven years after my birth, more or less, I was full grown."

"You have not changed since birth?"

"Not that I've noticed."

Aro leaned closer. "And your diet?"

"Mostly blood, but some human food. I survive on either."

"You were able to create an immortal?" Aro pointed to Huilen.

"Yes, but none of the rest can."

Shock rippled though the assembly yet again. "The rest?" Aro asked, his eyes wide.

"My sisters."

"Perhaps you would tell us the rest of your story, for there seems to be more."

"My father came looking for me a few years after my mother's death." Nahuel's eyes grew dark. "He was pleased to find me. He had two daughters, but no sons. He expected me to join him, as my sisters had.

"He was surprised when I was not alone. My sisters are not venomous, but whether that's due to gender or a random chance... who knows? I already had my family with Huilen, and I was not interested in making a change. I see him from time to time. I have a new sister; she reached maturity about ten years back."

"Your father's name?" Caius asked through gritted teeth.

"Joham," Nahuel answered. "He considers himself a scientist. He thinks he's creating a new super-race." From the disgust in his tone, it was clear Nahuel wished to be free of association with Joham.

Caius turned back to the Cullens. "Your daughter, is she venomous?" he demanded. Bella said no. Caius waited for Aro's pronouncement, but quickly grew impatient.

"We take care of the aberration here, and then follow it south," he insisted.

Aro deliberated a moment further, staring over at Bella and Edward and their curious child. "Brother," he finally said. "There appears to be no danger. This is an unusual development, but I see no threat. These half-vampire children are much like us, it appears."

Relief flooded through my being. At last.

"Is that your vote?" Caius demanded.

"It is."

"And this Joham?! This immortal so fond of experimentation?"

"Perhaps we should speak with him," Aro agreed. His mind was already churning with new possibilities; I could see it. Joham was not the only immortal who was fond of experimentation.

Aro turned to us, smiling peaceably. "Dear ones. We do not fight today."

Caius spun on his heel, churning the snow at his feet. Without thought, the rest of us followed suit and stayed in formation as we turned to go. Many of our witnesses had already scattered.

I turned for one last look just as I stepped into the dimness of the trees. Aro had stayed behind to make one more friendly overture with the Cullens. Their strange little family made no show of believing his words, but he bade them farewell with every politeness. Edward looked past Aro's retreating form to me. His expression bore a disturbing resemblance to pity.

I trudged through the snow under the vast trees, woodenly following Felix's footsteps. I was still deeply troubled by the choice that was already past: would I have obeyed, had my masters given the order to attack? Would I really have been able to participate in the slaughter of rebels whose only crime was being too careless as they lived their strange lives? And they had even been absolved of that.

A boisterous chorus of cheers and laughter erupted behind me, stopping me in my tracks: a cry of victory from the rebels.

Heidi was walking near me. She, too, stopped and turned toward the sound. "Listen to them," she said slowly. "They think they've won." Uncertainty passed over her beautiful face.

"They just want to live their lives," I said to her. I inhaled sharply. It felt like the cold air awoke something inside me.

"Yes," Heidi said. She looked at me. Was she thinking of her life before, with Hilda and the others? Was she remembering Chelsea's intent focus on her on the night her covenmates had been slaughtered... the night she had suddenly realized her loyalty to the Volturi? She wanted to say something... something forbidden. She didn't. We trudged on in silence a little while, letting the other pass us by.

"I killed Andrei," I said finally.

Heidi stopped walking again. "What?"

"Caius and I executed him when we were in Portugal. I didn't know it was planned until he gave the order."

"Why did he have to die?"

"I don't know."

"Well," she said slowly, "It doesn't matter. It's not our job to know..." she trailed off and shook her head, squinting off into the distance. "They lie all the time, Demetri. We knew that. It's just part of..." her hand waved in the air, searching for the words we had all been taught.

"Don't say it," I begged her. "Don't say it's just part of their job. Of our job. I'm so weary of lies today. I'm..." I'm ashamed, I could not say aloud. I'm ashamed to have a part in their deceit, their gluttony. His endless, selfish, childish gluttony!

I shivered, intentionally searing the words into my memory. It was only a matter of time before Aro heard it all. I am ashamed, Master, I shouted into the mangled confusion of my mind. I am ashamed and I cannot remember why I ever came to serve you! Each word wounded me. Each traitorous thought stabbed through the core of my identity. Who was I but Demetri of the Guard? Where was my home but Volterra? Who was there to serve but Aro?

Are you my king? Do you wish me to call you master, too, like your sycophantic guard? Garrett's daring words blared in my ears. I nearly laughed when I remembered all the subtle accusations Aro and Caius had built against Carlisle, when vampires like Garrett were more than happy to shout their rebellion. How many, like him, had grown weary of our rule? Did they really think their personal freedom meant more than the stability we had given them for millennia?

Right or wrong, change was in the air. No matter how many witnesses we hunted down and silenced, the story of today's spectacle would spread. Vampires around the globe would ask themselves if the Volturi were truly strong enough to rule when we had been sent packing by Carlisle's rebels. Whether Aro and Caius were really the best choices to...

Choice. I turned the word over in my mind. Nomads were not the only vampires whose hearts might be set alight with the allure of freedom and self-determination. Imagine having a choice, I thought with sudden fury, when Aro and Caius could simply employ tools like Chelsea to make your choices for you. Most vampires might be unimportant enough to live free under their rule, but those of us with powerful gifts would always be in their sights. Had my decision to serve Aro so long ago ever been my own choice?

Did I have a choice now?

"There you are, Demetri," Caius snapped when I walked up to the crowd standing around the airplanes. Not a single witness had chosen to return with us. I stared up the metal staircase leading into the nearest plane, feeling a sudden revulsion. An acidic, roiling nausea at the thought of getting on that plane.

"We have counciled," Aro told me, wearing a mask of regret. He glanced up toward Caius, then turned and moved to board with the others. Chelsea followed behind him, but she slowed to a stop with one foot still in the snow, the other on the first stair.

"Demetri. Felix. Alec. Gustav." Caius beckoned the four of us to the side. "A moment." We drew closer, but he waited to speak until Aro, Marcus, and most of the Guard had boarded. "You will follow Charles and Makenna," he said quietly, looking straight at me. "They are to be ended."

He and Felix chattered on in a smear of words, something about who would fly the airplane. I couldn't be bothered to listen. The only word I could process was the question I already knew the answer to.

"Why?"

I had spoken aloud; I couldn't believe it.

"What did you say?" Caius asked. A fierce warning flickered in his eye.

"Why?" I said again, louder this time. "Why do they have to die? For speaking the truth? Or for spreading it?!"

"Demetri," Chelsea said in alarm, drifting back toward me.

I took a deep breath and met her focused gaze, feeling a familiar heaviness tug at my mind. I might only have seconds. "Or for living it?" I shouted, daring to turn fully on Caius, and an instant later on Aro when he appeared again on the stair of his airplane. Heidi emerged from the other, barely moving in time for Gustav and Carlo to barrel past her toward me.

A savage laugh tore from my throat; I would be dead in moments. What did it matter? "Of course Charles will be the first to die! He is the one who can tally your lies for all the world to hear! I will not help you do it! It galls you, does it not?" I called out to Aro. "That so many vampires are living out their happinesses in utter indifference to your rule? That so many powerfully talented ones have nothing but disdain for... for your..."

I shook my head to clear it. The words were already beginning to blur together. Chelsea was approaching. No! They would have my death, but not this!

"Chelsea, Corin," Aro said, wide-eyed. "Poor Demetri has fallen victim to a new kind of attack—one of Carlisle's witnesses. I learned of it in Edward's mind. Quickly, comfort him!" But he was only looking at Chelsea.

"Another lie," I gasped out, tugging desperately at the chain that pinned my cloak. How had my hand grown so weak? I laughed again, and finally found the strength to tear the leash from my throat. My cloak fell to the snow. "No attack," I said thickly. It was growing difficult to speak the words at all. "The only powers at work here are reason and..." I heaved in another breath, leaning away from Chelsea. She grabbed my arm and held me fast, surprising me with her strength. For a moment's span, I was lost in the depths of her eyes. They held genuine care, the most intimate of pity, the astounding promise of... of peace, a life of purpose...

"NO!" I tore my arm away from her, only vaguely feeling the crumble of bones in my elbow when I wrenched away. I spun in a circle, looking drunkenly around for help. For death. Felix, Gustav, Carlo... they all just stood there. Why didn't they do it! Better to die than to live with the shame of betraying... no! Not betray, to... Better to die than for them to take... take possession... of what? I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to think any longer. The pull was so very strong now, a vast darkness pulling me into brightest clarity. Aro shone with beneficence once again, with the martyred sorrow of one deeply wronged. I was falling, falling before Chelsea's relentless tide. I could see it so clearly now, far too late—too late I saw that I could have killed her, had I acted seconds ago. Now I could only muster one final, futile plea to the only one who could help me now. "Bella," I called out hoarsely. "Bella!"

It was over. Even as I lurched back toward the clearing, Felix and Gustav leapt over and took hold of my arms. I collapsed, held upright only by their hands when they dragged me back before Aro and Caius. Time slowed, smeared into one single picture: all eyes looking down at me from the windows of the plane, from the metal stairs, standing high above me amid the spinning treetops... They all faded, giving way to Aro. He was everywhere. I licked my lips, squeezing my eyes shut in concentration. Gustav and Felix finally released me and I tumbled down onto my knees.

I slowly raised my eyes to look at Aro. What had I... I shook my head again, and the world instantly settled into clarity. My mind cleared completely, giving full berth to the sudden, undiluted horror of what I had done. It was the most excruciating, disemboweling pain, far worse than I ever could have fathomed, when I looked into my Master's eyes and I saw the sadness there. The hurt.

"My friend," he said softly. "My dear, dear friend. Is it any better yet? Are you freed?"

Lies! called a quiet voice, so quiet it was gone by the time I heard it within the darkest corners of my frayed mind.

"I..."

How I wished, how I desperately wished that it were true, that someone had poisoned me other than Aro himself! I laughed once more in my despair. My fingers dug in the snow, searching for the damp edges of my cloak... no. I would never be worthy of it again. Nor would I ever be freed, save by the final freedom.

"End it," I said, finding my voice. I looked up at Felix. "Please, if I have ever earned an ounce of real friendship—Slay me, rid me of this shame! I have betrayed my Master! What can I bear but death now?!" I moved to crawl closer to Aro, but was held fast again by someone's hand.

"It will take him a moment to heal," Aro said sadly, turning toward the others. "Give our friend his dignity, dear ones." Several of the faces moved away from the windows, but many did not. Heidi stood immobile on the stairs of the farther airplane, hugging herself and looking like she was about to be sick. Chelsea suddenly turned to face her.

"Peace, Demetri," Aro spoke to me, drawing near. He laid a gentle hand on my head, and that was my undoing. I could not bear his kindness! The light of his goodness blared within my brain, searing me with such pain that I cried out and bowed my head into the snow. He did not yet know all that I had thought. I reached up and dared to seize his hand, forcing all my cruelty upon him. He must not forgive!

"Peace," he said again, though I heard a new strain in his voice. "All is forgiven. It was not your doing. It has passed."

"You did not tell me of this new power," Caius said bluntly to Aro. "Who is it?"

"Later, brother," Aro said smoothly. "Let us begin our journey, and then you and I will talk. Chelsea, Felix, Carlo... please help Demetri board and find his seat."

No, no, it is all wrong... I felt myself pulled up some stairs and into the thin air of the aircraft. By the time the restraining hands shoved me into my seat, my wits had returned enough for the next shock to roll over me: what damage had I done here?! Everyone in the airplane was turned, watching me in frozen shock. The Reserves... their loyalty already hung by a thread. I fiercely struck down the traitorous thought that began to form: Chelsea would secure their loyalty. It was almost a comfort. At least, at the very merciful least, none of our witnesses had seen my outburst. But even the faces of my friends looked sick, looked cast in shadow... by their own doubts? Through one of our tiny back windows, I could see into the cockpit of the other airplane. Heidi sat there, rubbing her forehead, already watching me. She looked to be in pain as well.

Who else?

Aro was right—he had to be! Someone, some hidden villain among the rebels, had stricken my mind, maybe Heidi's, maybe others. Maybe even the Cullens themselves! Maybe they had been at work all this time. For centuries.

Lies. Oh, how I wished I could believe them. I did believe them. I swallowed them whole, hungrily.

I shook my head and laughed once more, ignoring Felix's sudden iron grip on my unbroken arm. Did it matter? Did it matter whether my betrayal had been of my own doing or the attack of another traitor? I had let him in with open arms. Or her, I thought suddenly, remembering the child's purposeful touch to Aro's face earlier. Such talented parents—surely—

"It was the child," I cried out, struggling hard against Felix. Gustav parked himself in the window seat beside me so that I was trapped between the two of them. Chelsea huffed in weary annoyance and sat down directly in front of me. Her face instantly settled back into a look of deep concern.

"Demetri," she soothed. "All is well. Rest now—we will soon know the truth of what has been done to you. Aro will—"

I shook my head violently, began to mumble about the danger, but it sounded half insane even to my own ears. My words deteriorated into broken whispers in Greek. My throat burned like hellfire. I began to see illusions, a shimmering mist, bright blue, flowing from Chelsea's forehead to my own. The mist seeped through me and traveled out the window to where Aro stood outside. My body spasmed once under the force of my madness, warping the metal of the seats.

"Corin," Chelsea called. Corin edged closer up the aisle, looking afraid. Of me.

"Don't," I begged her. "Don't! I will rule myself. Or use Jane, if you must. I cannot bear the cruel silence of my shame! Please!"

But it only took a moment; my treacherous subconscious ached and screamed for peace, any peace. Corin's gentle hands held either side of my head and my breathing slowed. She bent down and kissed my hair. I ceased, very quickly, to care whether I lived or died. Only Aro's welfare mattered, and I was a fool to ever have thought that I mattered anywhere in that broad purpose. It was a relief of the deepest kind, to shed my pride like a burning skin. I sank back into the soft cushions, stared down curiously at Felix's fist and the shredded skin of the arm he was holding. My arm, I supposed.

I looked back up at Chelsea. The illusion had vanished. She gazed back at me with the almost tearful love of a broken-hearted mother. Bless her, bless her forever.

"All is well," she repeated softly.

I shook my head very slowly. No, all was not well, and it would never be. But it was enough. I closed my eyes and watched, with perfect memory and perfect clarity, as the last remnant of my true self—a man I had only fully come to know today—shrank and withered and died.

THE END