A/N for 7/02/2021: It is a gloriously sunny day here in Vancouver, B.C., and boy is it welcome after a very dark and wet winter.
I can't give enough credit to the betas for this story, Chayasara and Eeyorefan12. They take my rough work and make it So. Much. Better. My heartfelt thanks to them.
Just three or four chapters to go, so I hope you enjoy the last part of this tale.
- Erin
Bella avoided the throne room whenever possible, but a summons from Aro was not to be refused. As she walked, she counted her steps. There were eight hundred and thirty-three of them between her quarters and the large circular room where the Volturi leaders seemed to spend most of their time.
She was squeamish thinking of the last time Aro had requested her presence. She'd felt anxious walking towards the throne room then, just as she did now. When she'd arrived, Marcus the Lesser had been standing in the centre of the room, his hands folded in front of him.
"It seems your gift is intriguing enough to inspire volunteers, Bella," Aro had said evenly.
Bella's gaze had flicked towards Marcus the Lesser and then back to Aro. Given Marcus's calm demeanour, she had strongly suspected that he had volunteered to spare Erastus. In that moment, she had hoped that the trust she'd read in his eyes was not grossly misplaced.
"You may begin, Jane." Aro had sounded excited.
Six hundred and fifty-five . . .
Bella continued to walk and count, trying not to think of what Marcus had sounded like when he'd screamed. She had panicked when he needed her, and it had taken what felt like interminable minutes to produce the bubbling sensations in her arms.
Worse, it hadn't been until she'd seen Demetri leering at her that she had managed to employ her paltry gift.
For it was paltry if it couldn't be summoned without him to inspire it.
She kept walking. Six hundred and seventy-two . . .
Still, she had summoned it—enough at least to protect Marcus from further torture. Now that she'd shown her gift to Aro, she knew that her probationary period would soon come to an end. While the idea of being part of the Volturi guard for any length of time was repellent, being a full-fledged member would have some advantages. It would give her freedom to leave the castle and then to continue to seek permanent ways of leaving in general. Of course, it also meant that she could be sent to do the Volturi's bidding. The idea had made her shudder when it had occurred to her, but she'd reminded herself that Edward had spent time as a reluctant member of the guard without losing his sense of self. Even more encouraging was the knowledge that Edward's father had lived here with Aro and the guard for decades. Not only had Carlisle remained the kind and caring man she knew him to be, but he'd become a legendary figure during his time here for both his renunciation of human blood and his extraordinary compassion.
She paused briefly to collect and then lecture to herself. They won't make you a monster, she promised herself. You will remember who you are, whom you have chosen to be.
With a sigh, she began walking again.
Seven hundred and twenty-two, seven hundred and twenty-three . . .
In her modest list of good things, Bella gave thanks for the ability to control herself—at least so far. She had also avoided the communal "meal" to which she'd been invited. Her polite refusal had not been challenged. Neither, apparently, had Alice or Jasper's. She assumed from the distance that they kept from her that they'd been ordered not to engage with her beyond her two brief trainings with Jasper. The most interaction she'd had with Alice was a sad and silent lifting of her hand as they'd passed in the hallway outside the throne room.
Bella hadn't been out of the castle since her arrival over a week ago, but as a newborn, she still needed to hunt frequently. To the great amusement of the rest of the guard, Aro had arranged for the delivery of live deer to the enclosed and underground parking garage. It was at least large enough for the animal to run and for Bella to partially satisfy her urge to stalk her prey. She'd loathed every minute of it and could appreciate exactly why Edward had avoided deer since leaving Italy. Still, the thought of hurting a person she'd once known or bought food or flowers from was horrifying enough to keep her from being tempted by the many human smells that swirled around her even inside the castle. She would stomach the guard's laughter and jeers over her "hunts" in the garage along with the adrenaline-tainted blood of the terrified creatures from which she drank. It helped her to recall Edward's quiet dignity as he'd been made to do the same in the throne room, not only in front of her when she was human but in front of an audience of peers whose thoughts would surely have taunted him.
She was almost at the throne room now. Seven hundred and forty-eight . . .
At least Jasper and Alice are allowed to go hunt properly—not that they were allowed much other freedom. Aro kept them apart most of the time, not, it seemed, out of deliberate cruelty, but because he wanted to see every image that Alice did, and Jasper's presence was most likely distracting. Bella thought it must be infinitely fascinating for Aro to have access to Alice's unique talent—he probably saw her as a shiny new toy. Not that his intentions really mattered when the outcome was just as abominable. So far, though, Alice didn't appear to have alerted Aro to anything she might have seen in Bella's future—if Alice could still see her future. Bella and Edward had assumed that Alice would be able to. Given the plans they'd made prior to Bella's departure for Italy, she knew Edward would be focusing on the idea of remaining in Washington or occasionally letting the idea of joining her in Volterra cross his mind in order to avoid making a firm decision. He had the added advantage of Jake's cooperation in keeping any other ideas or events obscured when necessary. Bella was far less practiced at marshalling her thoughts to run in only one direction, particularly with her more easily distracted "newborn" brain, but she worked to think only of a lifetime serving the Volturi, no matter how personally revolting the idea.
Eight hundred and thirty-three.
Her arrival in the throne room was not remarked upon by any of the other vampires present.
The usual business was being attended to. Jane's gift, Bella had realized, was entirely reflective of her personality. She liked to watch people being tortured, and she found the most satisfaction in punishing her personal attendant, a disheartened-looking member of the Lower Order. Bella did not have to think too hard to know why he was so dispirited.
Bella looked away as the grisly punishment was carried out, trying not to listen to the lick of venom applied to the severed limbs. She remembered watching Edward as he'd been forced to carry out one of these disciplinary actions and the blank expression on his face when he'd done so. Knowing his true heart as she did, she could only imagine the strength of will it had required for him to take part in such cruelty while keeping that careful mask in place. She quickly forced her thoughts in another direction before the sudden flood of loneliness and longing for her mate could engulf her.
"To more pressing business, then," Aro said.
Bella could feel a slight flicker in the guard's movements and realized that she'd sensed this type of energy and excitement in them before. A mission. They were being sent somewhere. She looked towards the front of the room again, seeing that Aro's hand was uncommonly free of Alice's.
"Bella."
She met Aro's gaze. He smiled his disingenuous smile.
"Your family was able to dispense with most of Victoria's associates but unfortunately not all of them. Victoria herself escaped them, and she, along with her remaining neophytes, have made quite a mess—where was it, Alice?—Ah, yes, in Forks. It seems the population of the little town has been somewhat . . . diminished." He laughed.
Bella's gut tightened. First, Charlie's face and then Angela's and those of her other friends raced through her thoughts. Second, she thought of her immortal family. If they had failed in destroying Victoria, would the Volturi interpret this as a failure warranting punishment? She didn't trust Aro an inch, and if he was talking about this in front of the entire guard, it bode ill for the people she loved.
"So it seems fitting that we should dispatch the guard to deal with this trouble, hmm?"
And what trouble would that be? Victoria? Bella's family? Edward?
But there was a slight flicker of hope, as well. Maybe Aro would send her, too? She could warn everyone or help them when she got there—or be witness to their deaths, part of her mind thought. No! She would not fall into such morbid speculation. She needed to think rationally.
"Jane, Alec, Demetri and Felix—you should be well equipped to discreetly manage this. And Bella . . ." He paused for a moment. "I think you should remain."
He might as well have kicked her in the stomach. Emotions she needed to hide played briefly over her face before she could muster control over her features. Aro read them easily.
"It is quite clear that your attachments here need strengthening, still. It would be foolish to send you on such an errand before your fealty has been appropriately established. Should it become necessary, it would be . . . cruel to test your loyalty to us against your own mate." He turned to Demetri. "Do give our regards to the Cullens for their admirable efforts, however inadequate." He smiled, the expression as sly and mendacious as always.
She heard the rest of Aro's speech, and while it registered in her mind, the words he'd just directed at her chilled her to the bone, sluicing over her thoughts like ice-water. She needed to warn her family of the guard's arrival. They'd anticipated having to deal with Victoria at some point, but not in conjunction with the guard—and certainly not in Forks.
Once the guard had been dismissed, Bella left the throne room, her mind spinning with worry. She needed to get to the library and its catalogue system. It was her only way of sending word unless . . . unless one of the Lower Order would send a message on her behalf? Marcus the Lesser still left most days to engage in business for the Volturi, but it would endanger him if he helped her. Or it could endanger her if he told anyone. She trusted him, but she wasn't sure to what extent that trust would hold.
Bella calculated that it would take the guard roughly eighteen hours to get to Forks. Every moment counted. Still, she forced herself to walk in a slow and stately manner to the library. She felt paranoid, and her heightened senses seemed to distort the world around her. She had to warn the Cullens. The sandstone walls and wooden doors appeared warped as she passed by them, and it was only after a few moments of purposefully slow walking that she realized she was using her gift. If others experienced the visual distortion she did with her power, they hadn't said anything, but it was an alarming feature for Bella—the optic warping was small but enough to let her know how far the protection extended. She tested it now as she walked into the reading room, making the books on the highest shelves shimmer. Then the distortion disappeared. She'd pushed the protection beyond the walls. How far could she extend it? She would need to test it outside—if they would let her outside.
But enough. She kept walking at an even pace, not letting her growing sense of panic alter her outward appearance. When she reached the fourth level down, she stopped at the first workstation and began typing, calling up her account and finding the entry that Edward had used before.
Please be watching this. Please, please, please, she prayed as she keyed in the words: Eight chefs expected to clean up leftovers. She began to add a footnote in which she wrote in only the initials of the members who'd been dispatched by Aro.
She stared at the screen and her half-finished text. If one of the Volturi guard—or worse, Aro, Caius, or Marcus—happened upon this note, what would they think of it? Not that there was much chance of them looking, was there?
Or was this some sort of test? Aro had suggested her loyalty was yet unproven. Did they already know that she had warned her family beyond what had been sanctioned? Edward had said that Aro ignored the Lower Order and their thoughts and that the library was of little interest to him, but what if that had changed in the intervening time? Then she shook her head. Aro was as unlikely to change as she was to take up golf, given their vampiric natures. In this same vein, he was unlikely to ask Alice to look at the Lower Order's futures either.
A set of footsteps she was not accustomed to hearing in the library made her stiffen in fear.
"The Rinaldi, of course." Marcus the Lesser's voice had taken on that diminutive tone that marked his interactions with members of the upper strata. There was an extra layer of deference now. Listening intently, Bella recognized—yes—the Volturi leader Marcus's voice; his softly mumbled syllables and apathetic tone set him apart.
Hitting "send" before logging out of her account, Bella opened a search for battle strategy. Leaving the computer too quickly would only draw attention to her.
Watching the two vampires' slow approach in the screen's reflection, Bella noted how much like a ghost the ancient Marcus moved. Though he clearly transported himself on two feet, his stride was perfectly even, and it appeared as if he were floating rather than performing such a mortal maneuver as walking.
As she typed in yet another search for which she had no desire to see the results, Marcus stopped and stared in her direction. He tilted his head to the left, his normally inanimate gaze livening as he perused the material on Bella's screen. "You'd be better served by psychological texts." He spoke slowly and deliberately, more clearly than she'd heard before, not that she'd heard much from him and never outside of the throne room.
She met his reflected gaze in the computer screen, too nervous to turn and physically face him—she didn't trust that her paranoia wouldn't be revealed.
"If you want to defeat a foe, know what they want. No one has a greater weakness than that which they love." He sounded so sad as he stated this truth, one that she believed in now more than she ever had before.
Then he turned and moved in his original direction, leaving Bella to wonder at his words and finally sigh in relief, having not been discovered in her original mission.
Too wary of being caught, she left the workstation, moving to find the book she'd looked up. With this prop in hand, she went in search of Marcus the Lesser. She found him at the foot of the stairs to the fifth level still standing beside his master, whose eyes were on her again.
"Psychology, girl. Not strategy." The senior Marcus shook his head and then spoke to the man at his side. "You know my preferences. See that she has appropriate reading."
Marcus nodded in response, and his master glided away up the stairs. When the sound of the library door clicked shut, Bella turned to him. "Actually, before we get to that, I had a question about something I read."
It was a risk, asking him this, but in light of today's events, it was a risk she needed to take.
"Certainly," Marcus said.
She led him to the shelf where she'd kept the books Jasper had collected for her. "This one," she said, picking up Didyme's book. Flipping to the page in question, she pointed to the word "hypocaust." "Where are these?"
Something like a smile passed over Marcus's face. "Follow me, please."
She followed him to a large wrought iron grate that sat just inside the reading room. "This is one of the few that haven't been plastered over."
It didn't take much to imagine why they had been covered over. It was also hard to contain her eagerness at seeing this one intact.
"Why was this one left?" She tried to make the question sound casual.
"It serves for the telling of the story, at least to those initiated to this order." He spoke quietly. It was clearly a story of which he was not fond. "But now, I should get you a copy of the materials my master wished you to have."
This time his steps were less animated, and she reluctantly followed him to find the books Marcus had recommended. Then Marcus the Lesser excused himself, his near-silent footsteps disappearing into the lower levels of the library again. Bella skimmed through the books, not daring to ignore the content lest she be pressed on her conclusions. Her quick read done, she carried her armful of books back to the computer she'd used before. This time she made sure she was entirely alone before logging into the system again.
She almost crushed the book in her hand when she read Edward's reply from just moments before. Additional chefs from up north have joined prep team in neutral kitchen. Seeking ingredients for development of new recipe.
Typing furtively, she sent a message of her own and then quickly closed her account. If her heart still beat, it would be racing. There was no going back now, she knew, and she prayed again that Edward was right with his plan—that all the pieces would come together. She had played the first of her small parts, and now came the second.
She had to assume that Edward's guess was right: Aro wouldn't be looking for the futures of the Lower Order. Of course, he'd be looking for his own future, and if Alice saw a certain outcome . . . Bella could only hope that Alice was as good at diverting her attention as Edward had said. He'd told Bella that Alice had learned to hide thoughts from him. Could she hide them from Aro too?
"Well, you're about to find out," she muttered to herself.
Mustering her courage, she walked quickly to the Lower Order's little room on the lower level and knocked on the door. When it was opened by Marcus the Lesser, she almost cleared her throat, she was so full of nerves. She would not lose courage this time, she told herself, for there was no more time left. Either she could trust him, or she couldn't. She looked up at the man she had come to view as a friend and spoke the words she hadn't dared to until now.
"I have something to ask of you."
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
