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Chapter 22

Bella

November, 1918 –China

Her will is mine. It's a chain of cold steel, and Bella's mental grip is firm, as though the girl might lurch free at any moment. There's a tension in the line that Bella can only label as equal parts terror and rage, but those emotions are old friends and Bella just nods to them in greeting, concentrating on the fact that, for once, it isn't her that is made to dance like a marionette.

In her peripheral vision, Bella notes the movement around her. With Jane and Alec released from the little queen's power, the Volturi guards have little trouble subduing the crowd of vampires assembled to give obeisance to this fallen monarch. Jane is apt to get carried away with doling out her brand of justice, but this is still essentially Bella's rescue mission and just a word of caution from her is sufficient to rein Jane in. This may have something to do with the fact that it's only Bella's gift protecting Jane's autonomy from her enemy's grasp. Bella smirks at how Jane must hate being beholden to her for even the smallest of favors. Alec robs the sycophants of their physical senses, and the crowded temple is suddenly, eerily silent.

Thus, the wailing that breaks the silence from outside is all the more disconcerting. Carmen and Eleazar enter, arms gripped around one another, as though they might solder themselves together, but any joy felt at their reunion has been stripped away by the news Eleazar has revealed. Bella doesn't need to ask what it is: it is carved into the faces of Irina and Kate, who enter behind them. Tanya is dead.

Bella turns back and flexes her mental grasp upon this child-queen's will, not entirely sure of the scope of her power over her opponent. "Who are you?" Bella spits, her expression hardening to communicate without words that this girl will receive no mercy here. The look of abject terror in the girl's ageless face intensifies, and for a moment her burnt red eyes sweep around the room, taking in the mute blindness of her followers. Eleazar steps up beside Bella without breaking from Carmen's embrace. He speaks to his erstwhile captor in a language Bella cannot understand. His mediation hardens something in the girl's backbone: instantly, fear is outwardly replaced with an air of confidence, and she turns her gaze directly to Bella, speaking as one ruler to another.

Eleazar translates, but it is as though he empties his voice of himself, lets it be inhabited by the woman before them, "My name is Lu Xi Feng. This land is mine. Who are you to come here uninvited and do violence to my people?"

Kate and Irina hiss their rage, but Bella simply smiles. She can feel the tenor of this woman's mind, how it quivers with hatred and, especially, with fear. A woman who can spit in your face as you beat her – that is the kind of woman Bella can respect. So she smiles at the irony of her actions and bows a deep curtsy, looking up to the girl's imperial face and answering, "Forgive me, my lady. My name is Isabella Cullen. I come on behalf of the Volturi, of whom you have apparently not heard. They rule our people and preserve the peace. I was sent to reclaim those who were lost," and Bella tips her chin in the direction of Jane, Alec, and Eleazar.

Eleazar's voice is all that can be heard as he murmurs a quick translation to the queen. After they confer, he declares for her, "Send them away. I will speak to you alone."

This time it is Demetri who hisses in hostility, but Bella has already thought through the benefits of shielding any important information gleaned in this interrogation from the ears and eyes of Volturi guards, and thus from Aro. And if she feels a twinge of regret at yet another reminder of Dima's true allegiance, Bella focuses on not enjoying her power too much as she nods her head slightly and watches all but Carmen and Eleazar scurry off. Both Bella and Xi Feng are smart enough to ignore Carmen's presence, rather than ask the impossible.

Through this exchange, Bella has been groping for the edges of the power she finds herself unexpectedly wielding. She has been careful to give no indication of the real situation to the others; so far, the Volturi seem content to believe Bella merely shields them from Xi Feng's power. More than anything, Bella wishes that Carlisle were present – he would explain to her why she's suddenly acquired the ability to utilize the gifts of others, not just turn them back on their owners. For now, she feels as though she is holding a long, loose leash with Xi Feng's will on the other end, and she concentrates on the what and not the why. Emotion and intent travel down the line, but not specific thoughts or ideas.

A bit of experimentation is in order. Bella concentrates on the connection and tries communicating a command without speaking. Sit, she thinks, and Xi Feng does. It is done regally, as though she were under no compulsion to obey, but it is done, and Bella can feel the link between them pulsing with resentment and something akin to panic. Bella hopes that emotion does not travel both directions, as she is dreading her next command. But she has to know.

Make Eleazar lie down. And he does. His eyes bulge at the realization that Xi Feng can still affect him, and Carmen gasps in confusion and alarm, but Bella closes her eyes and wants to weep. Without opening her eyes, Bella commands, Release him, knowing that Xi Feng has no other choice. She quickly follows this directive with one as all-encompassing as she can think of: Do not move, do not direct anyone.

Bella turns to Eleazar, who is again standing, and Carmen, and confers with them in hasty whispers, "It's me. I can direct her power. I don't know why, only that I can. Usually it's just a shield, sometimes it bounces the power back at the person if I'm angry enough, but for some reason, with her, it's like I can work through her."

Eleazar's own gift, to visibly discern the supernatural talents of others, has always been thwarted by Bella, whom he reads as completely normal, despite his personal experience to the opposite. Xi Feng, however, he has spent some time serving, and he tries now to explain her gift to Bella and Carmen, "It's the nature of her gift; it must be. Her talent is one of control: she robs those within her range of all willpower, yes, but it's not that she erases it so much as steals it unto herself. I cannot see your talent, Bella, so I cannot analyze the way it alters – why sometimes it merely absorbs, and at other times resembles a mirror – or how it is directed. But if your power was acting aggressively, then, to project back her gift on herself leaves her will at the mercy of you, or perhaps even anyone. Your attention was focused upon her: perhaps you picked up the reins, so to speak."

"Picked up the reins and made a target of myself, you mean," Bella says, heart clenching at the thought of the acquisitive nature of one very powerful Volturi ruler. The truth of this statement is reflected in Carmen's and Eleazar's bleak expressions.

"Please," Bella whispers, "give me a moment alone with her."

Eleazar, with Carmen in tow, reluctantly joins Jane, Alec, and Dima outside. Bella can hear him answering questions about the locals. He begrudgingly points out the few of those in the queen's train that possess talents from those who do not. Bella wishes she could feel surprised to realize only those Jane deems useless will be executed, but the little interaction she has had with the Volturi have brought one thing home: second chances are offered only when it suits their purposes. The crackling of fire and the smell of sweet incense waft through the open door; both women futilely try not to think of what amounts to extermination going on outside.

Bella sits on the floor at the foot of the throne, thinks Come, sit beside me, and feels buried under emotion as the girl stands and glides down the dais, sitting regally before her. They face one another, each staring into the face of their greatest threat, perhaps their greatest hope. Close up, the girl is even more exotically beautiful, her alabaster skin and perfect oval eyes remind Bella poignantly of her trip with Carlisle through the Great Exhibition so many years ago.

Bella intentionally loosens her mental grip on Xi Feng, feels the sense of relief at not being so tightly muzzled. "I wish you could talk to me," Bella whispers, wondering if there is a way to will someone into speaking something other than the language they know.

"I speak English," the words are awkward, dusty with disuse.

"Oh," Bella breathes out, "you do. It was all for appearances, then, the translator?"

"It is tradition." Bella nods in understanding. Her years with Carlisle have made her something of an anthropologist, and she can see how the withholding of a monarch's voice imbues it with great power and instills reverence in her people.

"I came here to retrieve my friends, and the others too," Bella says, feeling her own brand of compulsion to make herself clear, to establish some ground of understanding with this girl before her, "Not to take over your kingdom or your mind."

"Ch'i 'hu nan hsia pei," the girl mutters, then looks Bella in the eye and translates, "He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount."

"Yes," Bella says, nodding. It sums her situation up nicely: how exactly does she extract herself from this dilemma? Bella crushes the empathetic thought that runs through her mind lightning fast: We are alike, this girl and I.

"I do not wish to spend eternity as a pawn or plaything for your Volturi masters," the girl's voice is awfully commanding, given her position. Again the feeling of commiseration, the disconcerting sense that the statement echoes her own feelings exactly.

"They are not my masters," Bella cannot help but argue, but Xi Feng's blatant skepticism forces her to tack on, "or at least, I do not wish them to be." Bella continues to wrack her brain, searching frantically for a way to resolve this conundrum that leaves neither herself nor her friends in the Volturi's clutches. Try as she might, however, only one answer presents itself, yet she half-hates herself for contemplating such a violent solution to this Gordian knot.

It is clear from the desperation pulsing through their link, though Xi Feng's expression remains serenely neutral, that she suspects the route Bella may take in dismounting this rabid tiger.

"I cannot fight you, but before you decide to destroy me, let me ask you a question. How long until the Volturi kings decide that you too pose too great a threat? Alone, you are powerful, but with me at your side, you are indomitable."

Bella stares into the girl's rusty eyes and thinks many thoughts. With vampire speed she races through a hundred versions of how this decision might play out, considers and discards a thousand reasons to jump at the girl's offer of power and dominion. She recognizes the situation for what it is – a far more dangerous temptation than the one she faced not long ago with Dima in the woods. She could have justified the human blood then, and she could justify the usurpation of the vampire empire now, but would that make it right? Wouldn't she be a far more benevolent ruler than the Volturi ever were? Question worm their way through her mind, tugging her this way and that. But just as in the woods, it is the thoughts of her loved ones that save her. Clear as though he stands beside her, Carlisle's voice rings out, quoting a book in which Bella can put little faith, but asking a righteous question, "For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?"

Bella stands the way she does all things when unconstrained by her human charade: abruptly. With a flick of her thoughts, Xi Feng stands as well. Bella's next action is not so seamless, which speaks volumes towards her inner turmoil. She hesitantly reaches up with both hands and pushes back the dirt-caked hood on the peasant's cloak she wears. With the gravity of a ceremonial act, she lifts the dark chestnut periwig, exposing the closely cropped curls that will forever remind her of where she had been and, more painfully, of what she had done to survive.

"I am Isabella Marie Cullen," and her words are like a prayer, though Xi Feng receives them as a death sentence. "That is enough. Forgive me."

No more words are exchanged. The little Chinese queen kneels, head bowed. Bella is quick, though she has never done this desperate work before. She snaps the girl's neck and tries desperately not to think of how she has traded this girl's life for a mere stay of execution of her own. She clings to the decision that seemed clear but an ephemeral moment ago: that she would not choose to be like them, but it is with a trembling hand that she scrapes the flint and sparks a flame. Still, her resolution is firm, and she does not look back as she exits the temple.

Her path is set. She has accomplished the task that was foisted upon her. She will bid farewell to Dima and travel east with her friends through the Bering Strait: back to home and hearth and Carlisle. Bella replaces the wig, lifts her cloak back over her head, and faces a life with blood on her hands.

A/N: I want to thank each of you who have read and, especially, those who have reviewed, sharing with me your thoughts and critiques. If I've missed replying to any reviews from the last chapter, I apologize – I actually leave replying to just before the next chapter is complete, as it's something of an incentive to me. My favorite thing about reading/writing fanfic is the opportunity for readers and writers to interact, which is why I love hanging out at A Different Forest.

To CindyWindy, who checks in on me to make sure I'm still alive, and miaokuancha, who lovingly reads and analyzes every nuance of characterization with which I attempt to imbue this tale, I send my warmest thanks.

Edward gets the narrative back in Chapter 23, and that puts us in the final third of the story. Thanks for sticking with me!