Author's note: I apologize deeply for the delay in this posting. I've run up against a ton of family business, unexpected extended hours at work, a teacher's strike at my kid's schools, and most difficult, writer's block. I'm past that now, and expect I'll be able to post at least once a week again. I hope I haven't disappointed too many of my loyal readers, or caused anyone to think I won't finish this story. I WILL, I promise!

One of the many crisises I faced recently was having to put my beloved old dog to sleep. She was very loyal and a huge part of the family, but most devestating to me, she was my special girl. It's taken some time to move on from that. It was time, and she had lived a very long life for a German Shepard, and I'm grateful for the time we've had. She was a good girl, and will be missed.

Thank you all for your patience, and please continue to read and review. I appreciate any and all feedback.

Always, LJ

The next day Revan began her report. She had submitted it to the Chancellor and Supreme Commander of the Republic forces already, and had also given a copy to the makeshift Council well before addressing the Order as a whole. I had read over the report as well and added my own. Everyone understood the basic content, but I could tell Annie had held something back, and I wanted to know what that was. Canderous, Jarxel, Will Cantor and Mission were present; the first three in their positions of ally and Carth's aide, Mission because Dustil and Revan had insisted on it.

Revan made her basic presentation as succinct as possible, skimming through the reports of manpower, bases, armament and other resources, but it still took half the day to cover four year's worth of intelligence. I added my observations and data I had collected during my exile and the last six months, although much of that had already been covered before I had left to find Annie, as well as been incorporated in her original report, now lost, but as painsakingly reassembled as possible. Revan has amazing retention and recall when she puts her mind to it.

We took a break from the briefing, had lunch, and reconvened two hours later. When everyone was quiet, Revan addressed the Order and guests.

"We have a basic, if dated, idea of the enemy's strength and weaknesses, corroborated with Master Ladria's recent intelligence. What she did not see or confirm is this: The Sith, unknown to us at the time we destroyed the Star Forge, had already secreted some of that technology away. They have made inroads on reverse engineering the ability to harness the energy of living beings to power a new weapon. This weapon is designed to neutralize any Force sensitive on a planet it is aimed at, and has the potential for destruction on the same scale, if not much greater, as Shadow Generators."

There was dead silence as she surveyed the room. Every eye was upon her. I found myself holding my breath, but not as surprised as I might have been. We knew five years ago the Sith were not defeated, in my exile I had certainly known; anyone living in the Unknown Regions had felt the continuing presence of the Sith. Last year's mission had simply confirmed this. The Star Forge had been the most advanced and terrible technology we had ever encountered. It would only make sense that the enemy would take steps to duplicate it if they could. I was nodding unconsciously at Annie, and she caught my eye with a swift tight grimace.

"You are certain of this?" Stefan asked soberly. He clearly believed her, but needed confirmation.

Revan nodded. "I commanded a major base of operations under cover as a Sith Lord during my last mission. The research facility did not fall under my jurisdiction, but I did have regular reports of progress, which I fed to the resistance movement in the area. They managed to slow progress down considerably with hit-and-run raids on supply shipments, attacks against Sith personnel being transported to the site, and occasionally, someone managed to sabotage equipment; the resistance had moles everywhere. But they never managed a direct hit on the base. It was too well guarded, and security became much too tight to invade with as few actual fighters and ships they had.

"Like the Star Forge," she continued, "it feeds off life force. From what I can extrapolate from the data I received at the time, it does not have to be a Force sensitive that powers the generators. However, the more connection to the Force one possesses, the greater energy this technology can produce. It is my opinion, based on the reports I read at the time, that the Sith used the rip in the Force not only to destroy Jedi, but to capture as many as they could, to use for power."

She let this sink in. No one spoke, but I could almost hear the minds around me churning over her words.

"If this is true," Ju'hani said slowly, "then there could be dozens of Jedi imprisoned on that base."

"Yes," Revan said simply.

"What I remember of the Star Forge," Jolee added, his face a mask of horror, "they could survive for years before being used up entirely."

Revan nodded grimly. "I wish I could say you were wrong. But I used this power once, and your conclusion is correct. The Sith have not been able to reproduce the technology, of course. But the data suggests their research, given time, will come close. Still, as of a year ago, the weapon was not yet operational, and the estimates were inconclusive as to when it would be. The technology is far beyond any scientist's or engineer's knowledge; even Malak and I, who had used it, didn't understand how, exactly, it worked."

I stood, trying to gather my thoughts, and looked at Annie. "If the Sith did capture Jedi to power this…machine…is there a chance any of them are sill alive?"

"There is a small chance of that, yes, I think so," Revan said carefully. "But I think the bigger picture is that this base needs to be destroyed utterly. The Sith didn't have enough to work with to establish more than one development center. That is an advantage to us. If we can either infiltrate and sabotage the base from within, or raid it from without and destroy every shred of their research, we can stop them from creating this terrible weapon."

Canderous spoke for the first time. "I vote both," he growled.

While his expression was as impassive as always, I could see a faint tightness around his mouth, and Jennet had a look in her eyes, quickly masked, that told me her Mate was extremely upset. Not that he would admit fear, but I suspected that was what was behind his brusque tone. I glanced around at Mission, Carth, Jolee and Ju'hani and saw a similar blankness of expression that frightened me more than outright panic. These people had seen the Star Forge and its awful destruction; I had not. What I had read in the reports of their mission was enough to scare me. I understood Annie's almost casual dismissal of any Jedi left alive; it was unlikely they could be rescued. The best we could hope for would to release them from the limbo of being a source of power, and allow them to merge with the Force. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought of my brethren being suspended, held between worlds, their life force being sucked away to be used against all they believed in, without the hope of joining their souls to the Force.

But I had another question, and I spoke before Revan or Stefan could reply to Canderous' comment.

"Why didn't you speak up sooner?" I demanded of Revan. It seemed irresponsible to me that she had been back for two weeks and had not stressed the importance of this discovery.

She wasn't surprised or angry at the question. Rather, her face was troubled but calm. "The last report I got of this was well over a year ago," she said quietly. "The Sith had been working for almost nine years and were no closer to realizing the full potential of their research or experiments. I'm certain they have made progress, but are nowhere near bringing the project to completion. We have time."

"Are you sure of that?" Carth asked, his tone reasonable, his eyes stark.

She nodded. "Unless they had some breakthrough we're unaware of, yes. The resistance has some brilliant scientists among them. While they grasped the magnitude of the threat if the Sith ever managed to duplicate the technology, they were as baffled as the Sith as to how to make it work. They are of the opinion that it could take years before the Sith can unlock the secret of the Star Forge. Even with their dedication and resources."

"Wait," Canderous growled, "how trustworthy are these scientists you speak of?"

Revan looked at him gravely. "I trusted them with my life."

He stared at her for a long minute, then nodded. "All right. But for this to work, their research has to be destroyed as well."

There was a rumble of agreement in the hall.

"I agree," Annie said quietly. "Once the mission is over."

Canderous stood, his eyes the color of steel. "Me and my warriors are at your disposal," his voice was quiet but absolute. "If it is guaranteed that any scrap of information, every bit of data, is destroyed. On both sides." He stared hard at Revan, and then Carth. "I want no political idiot demanding we preserve it for study," he added pointedly. "Admiral."

To my surprise, Carth smiled at his hostility. "The Republic has no scientific data, only Revan's report of its existence. I assume you don't mean I would encourage further research. It only remains how willing Revan's rebel friends are to comply."

"They will," Annie said with finality. "They regard this technology as evil, and have only studied it to try and keep ahead of the Sith. And," she said, with a cold smile, "If they object, I'll see to it they change their minds."

The Mandalore and Jedi Master regarded each other in perfect understanding.

The rest of the day flew by as battle plans were proposed, discussed, discarded, and argued over. Unsurprisingly, Revan took the lead in strategy, with Canderous and Carth adding their opinions. Everyone else took turns punching holes in their ideas, trying to come up with backup plans. It was exhausting, and by the time we dragged ourselves to our apartment, Atton and I were tired enough to simply eat a hasty meal and fall into bed, too drained to do more than kick our boots off before slipping into sleep.

It took two more days to flesh out a workable plan. Once the details were confirmed, Stefan stood, rapping his ever-present gavel.

"We're agreed, then," he said gravely. "Revan, Atton, and Mission will leave in two month's time, followed by Ladria and Canderous a week after that. In the mean time, Carth will notify the Republic of our mission. Any questions?"

No one had any.

Stefan looked around the room at the tense faces, and nodded. "All right. We have unfinished business which I'm certain everyone would like to resolve. I move we continue this meeting tomorrow, and get some rest."

Revan stood. "With due respect, Chairman, I suggest we tie up our loose ends tonight. If it pleases the council, we could break for dinner and reconvene after. I think we would sleep better if we have everything settled."

"I second that," Jerrel chimed in.

"I can do one better," Jennet hopped up and smiled at Revan. "We can eat and talk. One comm to Lorna and we'll have a feast in no time."

This brought chuckles from most of the room, and Jennet grinned happily as she slipped away to comm her friend. Sooner than I would have believed, we were digging into the best meal I'd eaten in weeks, chatting companionably between bites. Stefan gave us all a quarter hour to take the edge off and rapped for attention.

"First order of business," he announced with a smile. "William Cantor, you have submitted to our testing and have performed beyond our expectations. Have you thought about our invitation to join our ranks?"

All of the Masters had participated in testing Will after the meeting three days ago and had been impressed with the results. He was strong and well trained in most forms of combat, and a very quick learner; his cool reasoning skills were impressive. Coupled with an almost eerie intuition, I was astonished he hadn't been found as a child. But then, if he had, he would have been hunted like the rest of the Jedi. The Force works in mysterious ways.

"I have," Will stood at ease in front of the Order, his hands lightly clasped behind his back. "I stand with my commander."

Carth stood. "Will, I don't want you to become Jedi for me," he said quietly.

"I'm not," Will assured him. "It never occurred to me I was Jedi material before. But I want this. I want to be where I'm most needed, where I can make a difference. You taught me that. And your son." He smiled at Dustil, who grinned back.

"Onasi charm, never underestimate it," Annie murmured, smiling. I saw Carth's ears turn a shade pink as he sat.

"Welcome to the Order, William Cantor," Stefan said formally. "Master Ladria has requested to complete your training. We expect you'll be Knighted exceptionally quickly under her tutelage."

I ignored Atton's surprised look as I smiled at Will. Having just seen my original students Knighted, I had thought I was in no hurry to train another. But I had requested Will as my Padawan before the Council had even deliberated who would best suit, surprising myself. On reflection, I was glad of it; Will had great potential, and this would keep him near Carth, which I thought under the present circumstances was necessary.

Will bowed to me, a pleased look on his face. "I am honored, Master Ladria," he said, as formal as Stefan.

There were cheers and applause as Will took his place at the tables. Once he was seated, Stefan moved on to the next order of business.

"I have been acting as Chairman of the Council for seven months," Stefan said soberly. "I've held this post as a trust, to keep us together until a true leader arises from our ranks. The Order is only as strong as its Council, and the Council only as strong as its Chairman. I have been honored to serve, but if we are to move on and rebuild, I am not the leader we need. We were all surprised at the prophecy Revan revealed to us, but not, I know, at its truth. There has been one voice more than any other that has kept us focused, forced us to rethink our laws and traditions, pointed out the flaws in our way of life and priorities. That showed us we can reemerge, stronger than ever, if we put aside differences and work together. One who has a gift of leadership, and of bringing together opposing forces for the common good. That understands that tradition for its own sake cannot be our sole guiding star, and to survive we must be willing to change." His blue eyes sought mine, and I felt every soul in the room looking with him. "Once again, I nominate Master Ladria Windbreak as Chairman, and hope she finds us worthy to lead."

I stood slowly. "It was not you I found unworthy," I said quietly. "Any of you."

"Perhaps not," Stefan allowed. "Perhaps you needed to be certain we would not fall back on our bickering ways. Or perhaps," he said gently, "you simply needed to understand how much we need you. How worthy you are."

I smiled sadly. "I'm not sure we'll ever agree on that," I said, shrugging.

Annie, sensing an opening, stood, but astonishingly, Quatz beat her to her intent. "I second the nomination," he said in a strong voice, and I almost jumped in surprise.

"You don't even like me," I blurted, surprised again at my lack of control.

He shrugged, but offered no comment. I could feel Annie grinning at me.

"I'll accept," I said, gathering my calm again, "on one condition. Revan will be our General of the Council."

There was a small gasp of surprise from the assemblage, but I saw Stefan nod thoughtfully. I had the satisfaction of feeling Annie sit down suddenly. I smiled to myself and pressed the advantage.

"She is a much more experienced and effective strategist than me when it comes to battle," I pointed out. "And we have many more to come. As Chairman, I would have ultimate authority over the General's actions. But her will would be law when it comes to war."

It was abundantly clear to everyone that we were waging a war that would not end for generations. By suggesting this split now, I was virtually ensuring that the leadership of the Council would be shared almost equally by the Chairman and the General indefinitely, possibly for centuries, with each keeping the other in check. I saw the signs of furious thought among the older members, then heads nodding. A great deal of silent communication was going on that I made no effort to listen to, patiently waiting for their answer. A silent signal was given, and Stefan smiled.

"Agreed," he said simply, as if the condition I had set was merely a minor point of interest, rather than the radical change in leadership structure it was. But I saw the admiration in his eyes, and the approval of the Order, and the tension I had been almost unaware of in my shoulders eased. "All in favor of Master Ladria?"

The 'ayes' could have shattered durasteel, and the silence to the question of opposition was deafening.

"Chairman, the Council is yours," Stefan said, and with a startling whimsy, tossed me the gavel. I caught it neatly one-handed as the cheers started.

Annie caught my eye with a sardonic lift of the eyebrow and I smiled sweetly back. She shrugged, and I heard her voice in my mind for the first time since she came back.

Good job, Dree, she said, amused. You're sneakier than even I am.

I learned from the best, I answered serenely.

Stefan graciously stood aside as I approached the Chairman's podium, embracing me with a formal kiss to each cheek as he relinquished his place. There was a shifting as he took a seat and the tables rearranged themselves in order of precedence.

I had no speech ready, and no one seemed to expect one, so I simply called everyone to order and began to build my Council. Traditionally, the Council consisted of twelve members; we had been operating on seven. Considering our numbers, I saw no real reason to increase this by much. Stefan would stay, and with the addition of Revan as General, the Council would stand at nine members. To my surprise, Master Rene asked to be released from her duties.

"If this is your wish, I shall not oppose it," I said, puzzled. "May I ask why?"

"Like Stefan, I have served only because someone must," she said quietly. "I have been honored to have done so, but I think there is one that would be far more suited than me. I agree that the Council should not increase in size until the Order has grown considerably. Therefore, I nominate Visas Marr to the Council in my place."

There was a collective gasp; Visas was a Knight, and a recent one at that; to be nominated to council at that rank was nearly unheard of. I, however, was delighted, but carefully showed only moderate enthusiasm.

"Visas Marr is a wise counselor," Rene continued at my nod of encouragement. "As an accomplished Seer, she can give a unique perspective to the Council. She has proven herself as intelligent, thoughtful, and diplomatic. She is young, but wise beyond her years and willing to work hard for the good of the Order. I believe she is an ideal candidate."

There were murmurs and nods from many, most noticeably from my former Padawan. Visas herself looked vaguely surprised. Some were shaking their heads and one or two looked disapproving.

"Let's put it to a vote," I said finally. "Visas, do you accept your nomination?"

She stood gracefully, regaining her serenity. "I do," she said simply, and I saw Jarxel out of the corner of my eye looking at her with a mixture of pride and apprehension. He sat back, deliberately relaxing himself and blanking his face. Canderous cast a sideways look at his XO, and Jennet touched his arm. He smiled briefly at her.

"All in favor?"

Loud "ayes" rang around the room.

"Against?"

A scattering of "nays".

"Welcome to the Council," I said, and the tables reshuffled again.

I nominated Mical as official Council scribe, not a voting Council position, but vital, and he was voted in enthusiastically. His handsome face was flushed with pleasure as he accepted his post.

"Now," I smiled as everyone settled from the latest round of applause, "the last order of business. I'm pleased to announce that there will be a triple wedding in four day's time at the home of the Mandalore. Revan and Carth, myself and Atton, and Dustil and Mission invite you all to the celebration, commencing at sundown, with a reception to follow. Jolee Bindo will conduct the ceremony. The Order will meet again just before Revan, Mission and Atton leave in two month's time. Meanwhile, I expect everyone to play their parts in preparation of the mission. You all know how to contact me. Keep me posted. Dismissed."

I banged the gavel, and a whoop of delight roared around the room. Atton swiftly made his way to my side, kissing me soundly before we were engulfed by the rest of our friends, all offering congratulations. Carth, Revan, Dustil and Mission were hugged and back slapped in turn, and Jolee was being teased by Stefan about being the first Jedi in the history of the Order to officially perform a civil marriage ceremony for Order members.

"Better you than me. I'm terrible with public speaking," Stefan deadpanned.

"Revan just doesn't want to be married by someone prettier than her," Jolee retorted.

The announcement wasn't that much of a surprise, actually, but the Order meetings had been so intense that the excuse for a celebration was welcome. And the exact date hadn't been decided on until yesterday, when Revan had asked Jolee if he would officiate. Atton had approached Jennet about using the estate grounds, and Mission had charmed Lorna and Megari into taking charge of a wedding feast. Dustil, Carth and I were told firmly to stay out of it.

"Do you think it would bother them to know how predictable they are?" I asked Carth mischievously while our fiancés were out of earshot. "I told you we wouldn't have to do a thing."

"We'll keep it our secret," Carth answered with a wink. "A good soldier never gives up a weapon willingly."

"Good point," I agreed, and Dustil, who had caught the exchange as he was passing by, laughed.

"They're all managing busybodies," he said fondly, watching Mission as she talked animatedly to Annie and Atton. "We're in good hands, I think."

"Gods help us," Carth said with feeling, but his eyes were soft as Revan laughed at something Atton said.

"Has she mentioned a honeymoon?" I asked curiously. Atton had not, but that didn't mean anything; he liked to surprise me. Considering he was one of the very few people whom I didn't mind being surprised by, this worked out very well.

"No," Carth answered, shrugging. "I'm not entirely certain we'll have time."

"Dad," Dustil said sternly, "make time. You've been waiting years to marry Annie, you deserve a few days!"

Carth stared at his son with some surprise. "When did you get so authoritive?"

"I learned it from you. You have the worst time taking your own advice of anyone I know. You're always telling people not to neglect their families, make sure they're a priority, don't get so caught up in the crisis of the moment that you forget to take time for them. But how often do you do that, hm?" Dustil looked suddenly fierce, his arms crossed over his chest.

Carth suddenly looked guilty. "I've missed one too many birthday parties, haven't I?"

Dustil softened. "That's not it, Dad," he said, smiling sadly. "You're a great father, and have always been there these last few years. And I know that you used your job to keep from missing Annie. But she's here now. I expect to see some changes, okay?"

"Considering I'm just taken on another full-time job on top of my Republic duties, I can't guarantee it'll be that different, son," Carth said quietly. "But since it's Rev's world too, it won't get in the way of us, I promise. Now quit worrying about me; you're getting married. Take your own advice, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Dustil saluted smartly. "Aunt Dree could use that advice, too," he said, smiling at me.

"Hey," I protested, "leave me out of it. I don't have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility."

The laugh that statement inspired from Carth attracted numerous stares and I hissed at him to hush.

"Well," Dustil said cheerfully, "It's your delusion. Far be it for me to shatter it."

The next three days flew by, and suddenly I was the subject of more attention than I was comfortable with. As Annie and Mission were receiving equal amounts of fussing over their persons I set my face in a smile and endured. These were my friends, and they wanted to help, to show us they cared. Who was I to protest?

Annie, Atton and Mission were taking care of the ceremony and reception, of course, but there were still details that apparently required my attention. Mira, Jennet, Ju'hani, Visas, and, to my surprise, Master Celia, insisted on taking me, Revan, and Mission up to Onderon to choose outfits to be married in. I had thought to wear my dress robes, but this idea was shot down by Mira and Celia when they questioned me about wedding attire.

"Oh for Force sake, Ladria, you're getting married!" Mira snapped at me, scowling. "If ever you should have a great dress…" she let the sentiment hang, and I smiled gently.

"All right, if this is so important to you," I said, but Celia, who had taken a great interest in me, my wedding, Revan, and by extension, Mission, for mysterious reasons she chose not to share, backed Mira up.

"Of course you should have a new dress, my dear," she said firmly. "We'll go tomorrow. I'll see if Master Revan and Mission have need of it as well."

I suspected Mission had had her own wedding attire picked out years ago, and more than likely had brought them with her. Annie, I knew for certain, had little with her than the borrowed robes I had given her and the breeches and tunic she wore when not in robes. And my green dress, which I suggested to Mira in a last ditch hopeless effort to avoid dress shopping.

"Not a chance," she said, grinning. "It was worn to Jennet's wedding; bad luck."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as superstitious," I said mildly.

"I make my own luck, that's true," Mira said comfortably. "But why tempt the Gods?"

Knowing there was no point in arguing further, I casually mentioned that Annie likely had more need than me for proper clothing and carefully hiding my amusement, sicced Mira and Celia on my best friend. This wasn't difficult, as Celia had already intended to do so. The result was an entire day at the same dressmaker Jennet had used, trying on dresses all colors of the rainbow.

"No pink," I said firmly when Mira held up a lovely pale rose gown the exact shade of the inside of a shell. "I'm thirty-four, not six. And you might have noticed I have red hair." I nodded to her own flaming locks. Mine was a considerably darker shade, it was true. But I refused to look like a sweet confection.

"It would look lovely with your skin," Jennet said unexpectedly. "And pink is the new black for redheads, didn't you know?"

"Fashion isn't my forte," I admitted. "I'm surprised you pay attention to it," I added, not unkindly. Jennet never struck me as someone who cared much what she wore; her usual dress was casual boots, breeches and tunic, often rumpled as she seldom changed during her busy days…at least they were busy when she wasn't sporting an eight month pregnancy. Her enforced rest was wearying on her, I knew, and the trip to Onderon was a special treat. I was surprised Canderous hadn't protested, and mentioned this.

"Oh, he did," she said cheerfully. "But I got around him by pointing out that Dax and Kex would be with me the whole time, and speed things up for everyone. The dress shop isn't likely to get a lot of business with those two at the door."

It was true. Two glowering Mandalorians standing guard discouraged any patrons from entering. I made a mental note to tip the dressmaker generously for her time.

"As for fashion, you're right, I don't care much. Mira told me," she added mischievously. "She's having fun, though, so who am I to interfere?"

I sighed, and submitted gracefully to being poked and pinned. I sneaked a look at Annie, who was faring better than me, having always been more attuned to feminine vanity than myself. She was animatedly talking to Mission, who as I had guessed, had no need to find wedding garments, having been fitted for her own dress months before and had impulsively packed them when she dashed off to the Eternity. Visas was quietly sorting through racks of dresses, acquiring a sizable collection, which were hanging on a portable rack thoughtfully provided by the shop's owner.

Mira approached, a light not unlike battle in her eye, several colorful gowns over her arm. I rejected the green one out of hand, thinking of the beautiful dress I had worn on the last night I had shared with Bao Dur. It had been the same color, and I wanted no nostalgic pangs from anyone when I married Atton, if everyone insisted on something new. He had never seen that dress, which I had carefully packed away, but Bao Dur would remember. He was standing as best man for both of us.

I discarded a gorgeous midnight blue that looked glorious with my skin and hair, but was so embarrassingly skimpy I doubted I could get through the ceremony without blushing. Mira agreed on that principle, but set it aside with a wicked grin, saying something about me needing a knockout dress for the honeymoon. I have mentioned that I rarely get embarrassed about showing skin, and this is true. But I do have a sense of propriety, and this was a wedding. I had definite ideas for the blue dress during my honeymoon, however, and smiled at Mira's comment.

Visas towed over her rack and Annie, and the five women got down to business. Dozens of fabrics, colors, and styles were held up for inspection as the two of us stood in front of the triple mirror and we narrowed it down to four garments each. Annie found hers on the second try out of the changing room – a gorgeous silk woven in such a way that it gleamed soft gold or green, depending on how the light hit the fabric. It was fitted, corset-like, to the waist, with a full skirt that ended in a gently gathered short train. The green and gold in her hazel eyes stood out, and the color brought out the gold highlights in her brown-blonde hair. She was breathtaking, her skin flushed a becoming pearly pink, the fluttery open sleeves suggesting wings while leaving her arms bare. I sighed in pleasure.

"You look beautiful, Annie," I said sincerely.

"It will do," she said mildly, but her eyes were lively with excitement. I laughed. "Now you," she said firmly, and the fussing began again.

Neither of the last two I had chosen seemed exactly right, so all seven of us went back to the racks, each taking a section of the shop to search. I was beginning to feel we were on a hunting expedition rather than shopping for a dress.

"I found it!" crowed Mira happily, and swooped over to me, unceremoniously shoving me into the dressing room before I could protest. A cloud of material was tossed over the top of the door with a stern demand to try it on. I battled the folds of cloth and emerged rather pink and cross from the effort. Then I caught my reflection and froze.

It was beautiful, and utterly perfect. Tight to the waist and sleeveless, it was an unusual shade, too blue to be gray, too silver to be blue, slightly shimmering in a heavy silk that draped elegantly. The neckline was slightly stiffened, wrapping around like a close-fitting shawl, standing a few centimeters above my bared shoulders to dip into a low V at my cleavage. Three deep pleats were the only details of the bodice, which was tight and had an ingenious underpinning that gave me the illusion of more curves than I possessed. The skirt was simple, bias-cut and full enough to allow me to move easily, with the merest hint of a train. Currently, it was a good twelve centimeters too long, but the dressmaker hastened to assure me that she could have it altered in no time.

"It will take only an hour or so," she promised. "I can have it ready while you wait."

"Please do," I breathed, oblivious to the excited chatter of my friends. I couldn't wait to see Atton's face when he saw me.