Divine Comedy (35)

Jane

Brother and sister, vampire and wolf, body and spirit...everything in my world seemed to come in pairs. I've best understood the brother-sister bond, since Alec had been by my side even before the day we were born. There was nothing to learn or adjust to when it came to having a brother. Being with Alec felt as necessary and deep-rooted an instinct as a human breathing. As for the union of vampire and wolf, body and spirit...those were things I've come to learn about much later in my life, and were much more difficult to wrap my head around.

I have always thought that vampires and wolves were irreconcilable enemies, never to consort with one another beyond fights to the death. Our bodies were even made to repel each other, not meant to join as one. Seth and I, however, broke that boundary. I've grown used to his touch, and grew to take comfort in the warmth of it. I came to love how gentle and respectful he would be when his skin connected with mine. When we laid with each other under the stars, and Seth held me in his arms, I didn't think about the boundary that stood between us. Instead, all I could think of was how much I loved him, and all I could feel through his touch was how much he loved me in return. That was enough to seal the rift of differences that had kept us apart. A future together was possible. We had built that bridge for ourselves.

I would have to build a similar sort of bridge in my own way of thinking, in the way I thought about myself and everyone around me. Humans, vampires, shapeshifters...we were more than sacks of meat and blood, or tangled bundles of wires driven by instincts. Something else fuels our desire to live and gives us value and purpose in the world. Bodies alone made for empty corpses. The human spirit, or the human soul, was what filled us and made us complete. All the more power to me if I believed in the existence of it.

Learning to throat sing from Ganbold gave me the missing keys to an understanding I had to unlock. Throat singing involved expressing two tones with one voice, one tone neatly overlaying the other, both heard equally yet distinctly. I was learning to harmonize myself, in a way. On a more fundamental level, I had to dig deep into the humanity I thought I had lost long ago, so that in resonating my soul with my body, I would be truly harmonized.

Strides I made with singing correlated with progress on spirit-roaming. When I centered on myself, I could tune out everything around me, including the heat and light of the Fiery Forest that would have traumatized me otherwise. Instead of thinking about the fire, I focused on those moments when I felt the most human. Running under the stars with Seth was still very fresh in my mind. I tried to dig deeper, back to the time when I was once truly human, down to when blood once ran in my veins.

My very first memories of happiness involved learning to sing for the first time. My mother was no trained professional, but she used to teach lullabies and simple rhymes to me. When I was a little girl, I learned that singing to myself could make bad thoughts go away—at least for a bit, if not forever. Whenever the villagers gave me and my brother dirty looks, spat in our direction, or not acknowledge us at all, I would hum a tune to myself so the world around me seemed lighter and lovelier than the ugly reality around us. I also remembered the joy of Father making a wooden sword for me, so I could play knights and castles with Alec.

The warmth stirred up by fond memories soured as I thought of what had happened next. The village boys had tried hard to smother our fun and games, especially mine. "Girls can't be knights," they'd say to me. "Girls shouldn't be running around with swords." The meanest of them had snatched my wooden sword out of my hands and broke it in half in front of me. I remembered running to my father in tears, showing him my ruined sword. He had kissed my head and made me another one. He couldn't make any more after he had died, and when the boys smashed my third sword, Father was no longer around to comfort me with a kiss and make me a new sword.

I thought right then and there I was done with swords and playing knights forever. More than a millennium later, I'd come to prove myself wrong.

Thinking about how much I've grown, and how far I've come, ignited within me a fire as burning and hot as the one in the forest. The road to better myself hadn't been an easy one. I had the sword and the scars to prove it. The reward I received came with the toll I had paid. I found it impossible to separate my joys from my pains. They were two sides of the same coin. Trying to disentangle one from the other was futile. Such was life. That was what it meant to be human.

A wordless exclamation from Seth made me open my eyes. I looked down at myself and my eyes grew wide with wonder. I had left my body behind. It was sitting and slouched over. Now I was bathed in a pale blue light that rendered me nearly transparent. I could see the grass beneath my feet, and peer at the forest's fire through my outstretched hand.

Across from me, in his ghost-like wolf form, Seth wagged his tail furiously. "Jane, you did it!"

A smile grew on my face. Standing guard beside my prone body was Tsermaa as usual, and this time she nodded with approval.

"Good job," she said. "You learned to reconnect with your humanity and from that, you found your spirit."

I gingerly stepped away from my body and bounced slightly on the balls of my feet. "I...I feel much lighter, like I weigh almost nothing." I didn't feel so free, though, that I'd drift away from my body and life as I knew it. So this was what it meant to harmonize the body and spirit, like singing in two tones—seemingly impossible and far-fetched at first, but with enough effort and reflection, it could be done. Confidence streaked through me. "I feel like I could run right into that forest and come out unscathed."

"And you will, if you believe in it," Tsermaa said.

Seth turned around and offered his back to me. "Let's go in together."

Perhaps because I wasn't weighed down by my body, and because I've had training, I swung my legs up onto his back with the grace and ease I'd see from Tsermaa. No longer did I feel out of place on Seth. We were like two moving parts of a single entity, pieces of a puzzle that fit together. He broke into a lope, and I moved in rhythm with him, as we entered the Fiery Forest.

I wasn't afraid of the fire anymore. With Seth, even hell could feel like paradise. With him, I felt safe and secure, knowing that no harm would come to me. He trotted around the trees with more fluid elegance than he had in his other body. The tips of his fur flickered like tiny flames, yet he gave off a comforting warmth instead of a scorching burn as my hand rested on him. I could feel the presence of my own warmth, which was something I never had in my cold, stone-like body. Perhaps Seth felt that in turn.

He stopped at the heart of the forest, and we stood unfazed in the middle of an inferno. He craned his neck back, settling his gaze on the sky. Tongues of fire pulsed and darted all around us, past us, and seemed to reach for the heavens.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Seth breathed.

I managed a small nod. Then I dared to reach out a hand and rest it on the nearest tree trunk, my fingers like a pale blue web on the singed bark. I could actually sense something burning—not the typical burn that smoked and crumpled things, but the kind of burn I had felt within myself. I must be sensing the shaman's desire to protect his people, which lived on long after his body turned to bones and dust. Human tenacity was truly something to admire. Now that I've learned to experience that too, in my desire to protect my kind and people I cared about, the fire in this forest couldn't hurt me. I was one with it.

Seth and I emerged from the forest to see the spectral forms of Leah and Alec rising from their bodies.

My brother greeted me with a small, crooked smile. "Sister, it's assuring to see you coming out in one piece."

"And it's good to see that you've achieved spirit-roaming as well."

"Our turn now," Leah said with a flick of her tail.

Alec hopped onto her back. "I suppose I'd better hang on tight."

"Oh, yeah. I want to see how much faster I can run without my body."

"I figured as much."

Leah sprinted away with my brother, cutting short the banter. She was all but an ethereal blur as she and Alec leapt into the Fiery Forest. As they weaved among the trees, I realized that the trunks resembled the wooden posts from the first part of our training here. Unlike the posts, the trees were packed closer together, more irregular, and of course, on fire. Seth and Leah in their bodies likely wouldn't have been agile enough to maneuver around them.

Now they could rise above the limits of their flesh and bones. Leah and Alec darted in and out of the trees so swiftly that they left afterimages in their wake. I could hear my brother laughing from Leah's back, when a few days before he would have been scared speechless. Eventually they emerged from the Fiery Forest, not because Leah tired out, but because Tsermaa had beckoned them over with a sharp whistle.

"I have to tell you that even spirit-roaming has its limits," she warned us. "You can move as much and as quickly as you please, but if you're not careful, you leave your bodies completely unattended. Had I not been your friend, I could have easily destroyed them."

"Oh yeah, that's what happened with Taha Aki," Seth murmured. "He went spirit-roaming and couldn't go back to his body because his enemy destroyed it."

"We'll make sure the same thing doesn't happen to us," Leah said with a growl.

"How do we ensure that?" Alec asked.

"That's why it's wise to have someone you can entrust your bodies to," Ganbold said, walking up to us from the field beyond. "When both Tsermaa and I leave ours, we usually trust my brother to stand guard and make sure we have a place to return."

The apprehension tightening Tsermaa's face loosened as she nodded at us with a small smile. "It looks like you're getting the hang of your new freedom. Seth, you asked about being able to do more in your spirit forms." She paused, as if weighing her options to go on or keep silent. "I didn't want to thrust that on you four so soon, but given the pressing circumstances, and your unfailing determination, I suppose there's no harm in telling you." She extended her arm in a slow, sweeping gesture to the field and the forest. "Where we're standing on is the plane of mortal existence. Here, we are bound to time and space of the present. That's what it means to be alive. In death, we leave this plane and cross over to another one. A few centuries ago, I learned to commune with spirits of the dead, and learned to walk between the two planes of existence."

"You can really do that?" Leah breathed.

"Jane did it once, I think," Seth said, glancing at me. "Not on purpose, though."

I nodded. "I was on the verge of death. This was back in Volterra, when the Volturi had put me through a week of torture and starvation." Though it felt like a lifetime ago, the memory of it sent a phantom stab through my belly, even in my spirit form. "I drifted into a dark place I didn't know, with a sky full of stars. I got to see my dead family there for a short time."

Alec's shoulders stiffened, and his jaw tightened. "What Jane had to go through to get there...we don't have to put ourselves through that, do we?"

"No, you don't," Tsermaa said firmly. "That's just one way to enter. There is another way to reach the spirit world, but with deliberation. It takes a great amount of focus, not unlike meditating." She tilted her head. "I'm not sure how that will be of any use to the battle you're facing."

"Useful or not, please teach us, Tsermaa." At first I was taken aback by the intensity in Seth's reply, but then he went on, "There's someone I really want to see again. Knowing that's possible..." He started to choke up. "I really want to learn how to reach him."

Leah pulled back her pointed ears before she looked away from us, perhaps to hide how much that hit her like an unexpected blow to the gut. Both of them longed to see their departed father.

I glanced next at Alec, whose face took on a faraway thoughtfulness. Unlike me, he didn't have the chance to see our parents. I could sense in him the silent yearning to seize that chance.

Tsermaa studied us. "The strong desire I'm picking up from you all, and the connection to your families departed, are the keys to entering the spirit world. That's what I learned from many years of trying to perfect the technique. In my human life, I wished I'd been born during the great, past era of conquering. The time of Genghis Khan, the time when my grandfather had served under him. I wanted to meet my grandfather, so I could hear tales of epic battles. That want turned into my gateway to the spirit world. Meeting my grandfather was my first successful attempt at communing with the dead." She held up a warning finger. "But it's not as simple as merely wishing this into being. You have to believe that the people you wish to see are waiting for you at the end of the road, on top of what you've already learned to experience in spirit-roaming here on this mortal plane."

I'd been slowly nodding as I soaked in this information from her. "It takes more to do more."

Seth dug his pale blue claws into the dirt. "Show us what else we have to do."

"Now that you've already left your bodies, from here you close your eyes." The Mongolian vampire paused, evidently to make sure we followed her first instruction, then she went on. "Let the darkness envelop you. Center your thoughts on those who've left before you. Believe that you will find them when you take that step into the great unknown." She paused again, then said, "I'll see you on the other side."

I couldn't help opening one eye, breaking the state of focus she had tried to draw us into. My other eye flew open, and both widened in astonishment, as I witnessed what Tsermaa did after rising from her body. With her eyes closed, she took a step forward and vanished into thin air the next.

Seth and Leah uttered startled yelps beside me. Apparently they had seen the same thing.

"Where did she go?" Alec asked.

Ganbold met our confusion and panic with a serene smile. "Don't worry, she's waiting for you on the other side. She'll want to make sure you make it there with her."

"How do you know that we'll be meeting in the same place?" I asked.

"The same place will be rooted in the same time," he replied, maintaining stolid calm. "You'll see what I mean when you get there. For now, remember what Tsermaa said. Gather yourself into the right state of mind."

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and tried to surrender myself to a world beyond my sight. I strived to draw up the faces of my family: my mother, father, and child. Since leaving them in Volterra, I had resigned to the fact that I wouldn't see them again anytime soon, especially when I wanted a long, happy future with Seth. What Tsermaa had just told us, however, instilled in me a fierce, almost childlike desire to run into the arms of my family once more. I remembered the warmth of their arms, how their hearts beat against mine. I wanted to melt myself into that sensation again. I tried to imagine them waiting for me, despite the many, many years between us. I tried to believe that I could close that huge time gap with just a few steps forward.

I reached out to gently clasp Alec's hand. Most of all, I tried to believe that he could come with me to rejoice in reuniting with our family. I didn't want to go alone this time.

"Walk," I whispered, telling myself as much as I was telling Alec. Keeping my eyes closed, I took a step forward, then another.

Tsermaa's voice cut into the dark unknown. "Welcome. Don't worry, you didn't have me waiting very long."

That prompted me to open my eyes. The sight of her was as welcoming as her voice. "Did we make it?" I asked softly.

"See for yourself."

At her invitation, I looked around to a hauntingly familiar sight. I still held onto Alec by the hand; he and I stood ankle-deep in water. Sloping above our heads was a dark tunnel of smooth, indiscernible material. Tsermaa stood a few feet in front of us and behind her, beyond the edge of the tunnel, stretched a forest that glowed under a swath of stars.

Faint splashes behind me and Alec made us look over our shoulders. Two spectral wolf shapes bounded toward us. It was Seth and Leah, their jaws agape and tongues lolling from running.

"We're all here," Seth exclaimed. "I guess we made it!"

"Indeed." Tsermaa gave us a small smile. "Welcome to the spirit world."

Leah's voice went soft as she craned her furred neck back. "It's beautiful."

I also tipped my head upward to admire the view with her. "I haven't seen this many stars since the time I was human."

"Yeah, when you live in a city with a lot of lights, you never see the night sky like this," Seth said.

Tsermaa nodded thoughtfully. "I suspect that the spirit world is shaped in such a way that it predates the human race, before we blotted out the stars and cut down the trees as we built, grew, and expanded."

The ancient, primeval nature of this place subdued us into a moment of quiet awe. Upon closer scrutiny, I realized that all the trees in the forest were evergreen—cedars, spruces, firs, pines of every variety—as if the turn of time and the seasons couldn't touch them.

"Why are we standing between a forest and a tunnel?" Alec asked.

"We are in the present time," Tsermaa replied. "The forest stands for time that has past, and the tunnel, in all its darkness and uncertainty, stands for the future that has yet to happen."

Alec fixed his thoughtful gaze into the forest. "I see. And I suppose we can find our families in there."

"If you tread far enough, yes. You and Jane will have to walk farther in it, since your time was long before Seth and Leah's."

Seth bounded a few pawsteps past the edge of the tunnel. "Okay, let's go looking!"

I glanced back at the tunnel, trying to suppress the nervousness below my throat. "We're already quite deep in, aren't we? We can't even see our bodies from here."

"Don't worry, Ganbold's keeping a close eye on them. He can call me if something bad happens."

"How does he do that?" I asked, expecting some additional special technique.

Tsermaa surprised me with a smirk and a twinkle in her eyes. "He shouts very, very loud into my ear."

"Oh." I bit back a smile of my own.

Slowly, reluctantly, Alec released my hand, and looked relieved when nothing bad happened after that. "Since our families are in different times, and therefore in different parts of the forest, I guess we split up from here."

Seth's snout bobbed up and down once. "Leah or I can give you a howl when it's time to regroup."

"Now that I know you've all safely gathered here, I'll leave you four to it and walk back to the living plane." Tsermaa stepped away, toward the tunnel of darkness, and vanished.

Alec frowned at me. "I don't know the way, and you have much better memory of their faces than I do." Though he was bigger and taller, he looked down with the shy deference of a little brother. "Could you lead me?"

"I'd be more than happy to." I turned to Seth and ran my hand along his furry neck. "I hope you find your father. I'm sure he'll be so happy to see you."

The very mention of his father brought tears to the corners of his eyes. Losing him was still so fresh to Seth, unlike my own loss. In the spirit world, I could sense the mingled anticipation and grief coming off of him in thick waves. Here, I didn't need to see or hear emotions read in someone's face or voice. Overwhelmed beyond words, he pressed his muzzle into my palm before turning away to pad after his sister.

When they disappeared into the undergrowth, Alec and I followed hand in hand to leave behind the present and step into our past, ready to see the faces of our loved ones again.

Seth

Leah and I seemed to have wings instead of paws as we sprinted over bushes and wove through trees that seemed as old as the concept of time itself. This felt different from the forest we'd been born and raised in. Unlike the forest we had always known, this one was free from human touch, pollution, and aging. The leaves here were the most vibrant shade of green I had ever seen. The dew on them reflected the stars above, making the trees just as sparkling and surreal. I spotted no stumps sheered off from saws or fallen, decayed trunks, which would've been a common sight in our neck of the woods.

Part of me wanted to stay here forever, and forget about all the troubles in our lives. But I had to remember why we had set foot in here.

"Somehow I feel like I know where I'm going," Leah said beside me. "Don't you?"

"Yeah..." It wasn't like the spirit world came with its own GPS, but maybe my desire to see my dad was what led me and Leah to where we needed to go.

He didn't die too long ago, so we didn't have to run far. We skidded to a stop by a stream. There was a little pool that veered away from that stream, where the water was still enough for fish to swim in.

Leah and I exchanged a knowing glance. Wherever there was fish, that was where we would find Dad. We crept toward the pool, the fur of our bellies brushing against overgrown grass. We crept up holding our breath, and we caught sight of someone sitting on a rock. Someone with long grey hair running down his stout back, and someone holding a fishing rod.

Suddenly a grapefruit swelled up in my throat. "Dad?" I choked out.

The person fishing by the pool looked over his shoulder, then he dropped his rod. "Seth? Leah? Is that really you?"

Leah didn't say anything. Instead she let out a sob and threw herself at him, almost knocking him over the rock he perched on. I joined her with a single great leap, my added weight tipping us all over to the damp ground by the pool.

"Dad...Dad..." was all I could get out. "I'm sorry..."

Leah's shoulders heaved, and finally, with the most self-loathing I had ever heard from her, she said, "Dad, I did this to you. This is all my fault..."

Dad pulled us in with a fierce hug. "You kids have nothing to be sorry for." His voice got all shaky and thick like ours. "That's what I've been wanting to tell you ever since I got here. And now finally I get to tell you..." Just when I didn't think he could hug us any tighter, his hands dug even more into my fur. "Seth, I should be sorry for doing this to you."

I shook my head against his shoulder. "Don't be. I like being a wolf, Dad. Really, I do."

His smile at me crinkled his eyes. "That's so like you, to take everything in stride. Your mom always called you her little ball of sunshine, and you still are." He pulled away reluctantly, looking between us with confusion. "But what are you two doing here? Don't tell me you got here by..."

"No, Dad, we didn't die," Leah said. She shook her coat and wrinkled her snout in an attempt to pull herself together. Tears still stuck to the fur on her cheeks. "Long story short, we were taught how to get here. We really wanted to see you."

"Did you, now?" he said to both things. He sat back down on the rock. "What have I been missing since I ended up here?"

Leah and I sat down beside Dad and told him everything. It was hard to tell time here, whether time ticked by at all, but it felt like a challenge telling him years worth of life-changing stuff. We had to start in the beginning, back when Edward and Jacob were at each other's throats. That felt like forever ago, like back in another time period. I wondered how Jane and Alec felt, having all those past eras under their belt.

Leah and I were finishing up recounting the Renesmee debate with the Volturi, and I was about to go on from there when I heard loud crashes through the undergrowth, leaves being pushed aside or crunched underfoot.

Leah and I sprang to our paws. The hair on the napes of our necks stood on end. Four huge wolves sprang into view. Unlike the pale blue glow over me and Leah, their glow was ghostly white, like they were wraiths made of steam and mist. Maybe that meant they were departed spirits.

The largest wolf of them all was even bigger than Jake, and unlike the others, whose fur coats I could still make out under the thin film of white, he was white through-and-through. The other three were black, chocolate brown, and reddish brown. I squinted at them. They almost looked like—

"What are you two doing here?" The biggest, whitest wolf snapped. "Who are you to bring your spirits here before their time?"

"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out. His voice boomed, echoing through the tree trunks and making my ears pull back. I cowed before the size and might of the wolf.

Dad rose to his feet and placed himself in front of us, with arms stretched out and placating palms held up. "Taha Aki, great chief, please calm down. My children mean no harm—"

"Silence," the white wolf snapped. "You have no voice in this matter."

That made Dad drop his gaze and arms. I almost dropped to the floor myself when I realized who I was facing. Taha Aki, right here, right now?

I should have expected this kind of hostility. It was Mom and her family that carried the magic in our blood, not Dad. In Taha Aki's eyes, Dad had a lower place in the tribe. And legend had it that after Taha Aki regained his body and vanquished the one who had stolen it, he forbade spirit-roaming among the tribe. Seeing me and Leah break the rule must've really raised his hackles.

Leah bristled and shot him a daring glare. "Don't talk to my dad like that."

My jaw dropped. "Leah—"

"Insolent child!" Taha Aki curled back his lip at Leah, showing the longest, sharpest fangs I had ever seen in a wolf. "I suppose you pick up your lack of manners from your father."

The other three wolves hung back, observing in silence. It seemed like Leah was the only one bold enough to stand up to Taha Aki. Her defiance was so intense that it inspired me to stand my ground alongside her, even if my legs still trembled.

Taha Aki shook his head. "You two have no business being here. Return to your bodies, young ones!" He lunged and snapped his fangs at us.

We jumped back, but didn't turn tail to run away. We weren't going back without Jane and Alec.

The massive wolf circled us and snorted. "You're young and stubborn."

"Yeah, we get that a lot." Then I wanted to kick myself. That was supposed to be a thought best kept secret, especially from Taha freakin' Aki, of all people. But here in the spirit world, everything normally kept in the head flowed out, like a river free of the dam that was the body.

Taha Aki growled at the other three wolves, who joined him in circling us. Watching the old dead pack surround us reminded me of Luka's herd of horses.

That lit up a light bulb in my head.

I was born and raised in the time way after the great old chiefs, so I didn't know how to properly greet my ancestor. I tried a bow, with my rump in the air and my snout just over the ground, and said, "Taha Aki, great chief, we come to you humbly asking for your help."

The request was abrupt enough to make the big white wolf stop in his tracks. "What?"

I bit back from wincing at the sharp bark.

"What are you saying?" Leah hissed next to me. "That's not what we came here to do."

"No, but it's something we might be able to do," I hissed back. "Look, I was thinking...you remember those horse clones Luka made when we last battled? What if those were his ancestors coming in to help him? Or at least parts of them?"

Leah's eyes flew wide. "Seth, this is no time for crazy theories!"

"It's worth a try," I insisted.

"What are you two mumbling about?"

I flinched and turned back to Taha Aki, but couldn't meet the weight of his stare. "Our friends and allies are under great threat. My sister Leah and I want to help them defeat it, but maybe we need more numbers on our side to get an advantage."

The russet brown wolf spoke up for the first time. "Allies? Do you mean the coven bound to our treaty?"

Taha Aki threw a glare back at him. "Quiet, Ephraim. I still haven't pardoned you for that transgression, for letting the enemy live so close to our sacred land."

I fought back a gasp. That was Ephraim Black, Jake's great-grandpa! The other two must be the ones in his pack: Levi Uley and Quil Ateara the second, great-grandpas of Sam and Quil the fourth.

Ephraim pulled back his ears at Taha Aki's command, but as an alpha wolf himself, he didn't lower his head to the ground and kept it high instead. His gaze fell back on me. "What trouble befalls them now, young one? I sense urgency from you and your sister. That must be why you've come."

I nodded, grateful to be acknowledged by him. The wolf who agreed to forge a truce with the Cullens must have at least a friendly opinion of them. I opened my mouth to go on, but Taha Aki lunged at us again. "Go back! You don't belong here."

This time Ephraim sprang up to bar his way. "Great chief, please let them speak. They must have good reason to come, knowing that they've broken your rule."

Taha Aki narrowed his eyes, but lowered his tail and stopped baring his teeth. "Very well," he growled.

I tried not to let my legs shake as the older, higher-ranked wolves trained their eyes and ears on me. "We were taught to spirit-roam so we could fight on even ground with our foe. A spirit warrior—a kresnik, he calls himself—walks in the form of a horse and wants to destroy all the Cold Ones, including the Cullen family, and...and my mate."

Taha Aki completely froze for a moment. "Your mate is a Cold One?"

The horror and disgust was so strong in his voice that I almost flattened myself to the ground, as if forced to by an alpha command.

Murmurs of shock rippled through Ephraim and his pack. Even Dad shot me a wide-eyed look of disbelief. I met it with my own sheepish eyes. "I meant to get to that part, Dad," I said in a small voice.

Taha Aki lashed his white tail and curled his lip at me. "Have you really stooped so low that you've bedded with the enemy? Why should we help a traitor like you?"

His accusatory tone had a similar ring to Luka. That sent a shiver up my spine. And it really hurt to be called a traitor. Dad sensed my hurt and rested a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Jane is not our enemy, great chief," I managed to say. "Not anymore. Leah and I didn't come to the spirit world alone...Jane and her brother Alec are here, too, and they've come the same way we did."

More shock among the dead wolves. "There are two of them here?" I heard Quil II say among the startled growls and murmurs.

Taha Aki stared at me with plain distrust. "Impossible. Cold Ones shouldn't be able to walk this world unless they've been destroyed."

I struggled for words more polite than just "you're wrong." "Let me introduce you to Jane and Alec, great chief. I think that's the best way to persuade you to believe me and our cause."

In the spirit world, as with the shared minds of a pack, there was no silent pause in running thoughts. When Taha Aki turned to Ephraim and his pack for consult, opinions flew freely.

"We outnumber the Cold Ones four to two," Levi said.

"We have the advantage in numbers and territory if things go south," Quil II said.

As for Ephraim, he took a more open-minded stance. "I am interested in hearing what the Cold Ones have to say, especially when the young wolf claims that they are the tribe's allies."

With that, Taha Aki turned back to me and Leah. "Bring the Cold Ones here, then. We will judge them for ourselves."

I exchanged a glance with my sister, both of us hoping that we haven't made a big mistake by calling the twins here. Then we tipped our heads back to the stars and let loose a long, unified howl.

Alec

Running through the forest with my sister sent me back to simpler, happier times, when we used to chase each other in hours-long games of tag. I let Jane lead the way, though even without her, I had a gut feeling and strange sense of certainty in my path. Yearning to see the rest of my family gave me some sense of direction I didn't think I could have.

Someone shouted "Hey!" behind us. Feminine, high-pitched—a teenage girl, from the sound of it. Jane and I stopped and whirled around. I had heard correctly; a girl who looked a few years older came running up to us. She was slender and mousy-looking with her wide eyes and small face. Dark brown hair running down to her waist bounced on her back with each step.

Jane peered at her with a raised eyebrow. "Do we know you?"

The girl stopped a few feet from us and pursed her lips. "You should. I can't ever forget you even if I wanted to."

When she said "you," she meant Jane more than me. My sister studied her for another moment, then knowing dismay flashed across her face. "I remember now," she said softly. "You're that girl from Seattle, Bree."

It took me another moment to recognize her. Without the bright red eyes of a newborn and the telltale scent of our kind, Bree Tanner looked like any other girl on the street to me. Even here she wore the clothes she had died in: a sweatshirt and ripped jeans.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Jane frowned. "It's not any of your business."

"Probably not."

"What are you here for?"

"Well, I saw you two coming and didn't think I'd run into you again." Bree tilted her head at us, part of her hair hanging down like a brown curtain. "You're looking for more people to put to death or what?"

At that, Jane dropped her gaze to her feet. "Alec and I are not like that anymore," she murmured. "We've become very different people since you last saw us." She drew in a quiet breath, closed her eyes for a moment, then lifted her gaze to meet Bree's. "What I did to you was cruel and unnecessary. Nothing I could say or do now can bring back the life you lost, and I'm responsible for that."

Bree blinked once, her face gone blank. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword. "You said I didn't deserve a second chance. I didn't deserve to be anything different than the role I was forced to play. Why should you get that second chance?"

The girl talked softly, but the accusation in her voice seemed to make my sister wilt. "You're right," Jane whispered. "What happened to you was completely unfair." Her gaze flitted down to one of Bree's hands curling into a fist. "You look like you want to hit me. Go ahead." She didn't sound sarcastic or smug, just sincere and resigned. "Hit me as hard and as many times as you want. It's the least I deserve for what I did to you."

"Sister—"

She stopped me with an outstretched hand against my torso. "Step away from this, Alec. This is between me and her."

I bit back a protest and did as she said. I watched unhappily as Jane, despite all her training with warriors like Goro and Tsermaa, made no move to bolt or defend herself. She stood straight with her remaining hand slack at her side, her face as blank as Bree's save for a tightened jaw.

Bree took a few more quiet steps until she was at arm's length away from my sister. They held gazes for what felt like another hour. Then, faster than I had expected, Bree swung a punch into Jane's right cheek—a dull, meaty crack of knuckles against skin and teeth. Bree swung harder than I had expected, as well, as Jane buckled onto the forest floor.

What felt like ages ago, Bree had been the one brought to submission, made small and helpless before my sister's fearsome power. Now the tables have turned. Bree stood over a fallen Jane, one fist held aloft for another punch. I wanted to intervene, but I knew Jane wouldn't want me to. My sister remained on the ground, making no move to jump back to her feet with the usual grace. She seemed to wait for more blows to rain down on her, for more blows of righteous anger.

But none came. Bree lowered her fist and stepped back from Jane. Her lips barely moved in a mutter. "Once was enough. I don't have it in me to hit you again. I thought I did, though."

That was when I moved. To my relief, Jane didn't put up a protest as I helped her to her feet. She rubbed a palm at her stricken cheek, attempting to compose herself. Still, I could sense the shame and guilt emanating from her.

"You are not a born fighter," Jane murmured. "You really are a gentle soul." Her lips narrowed to a thin line, and her brow bunched to almost meet above her nose. "I was a monster for condemning you to death. I wish I could forget, but I remember smiling when I declared you unfit to live. No matter how far I've come, how much I've changed, nothing can erase the terrible things I've done in the past."

Bree being here seemed to remind her of that hard truth, a truth my sister and I would rather forget and put behind us.

"I change my mind," Jane went on. "You have a right to know our business, Bree. The Volturi is no more, so we want to bring a new order to our kind, a better future for us all, for our kind and humans alike."

"A better future..." Bree thought about it for a moment. "You're saying that people like me can get a second chance?"

I nodded. I thought I caught a glimmer of hope in her dark eyes. And with regret, I said, "You were at the wrong place, at the wrong time."

Had she been turned after the Volturi had fallen, she would have lived the life she must've wanted. But we shouldn't dwell too long on what-ifs.

Bree brushed off the split second of regret she felt with a shrug. "I've grown to like it here. It's quiet, peaceful, no one out to hurt each other or give me orders I don't want to follow. It's better than what would've happened if I stayed alive. Whatever goes on at the other side isn't my business anymore." She took a step back from us. "I don't know if I can forgive you yet. I don't know if I ever will. But I'm not interested in a fight with you anymore. Whether you're telling the truth or not is up to fate, karma, God, whatever you believe in. Not me." She turned on her heel and ran off, the dense shrubs and trees enveloping her.

Jane and I stared after where she had disappeared for a few more seconds. She would forever remind us of who we used to be, and who we should never be again. My gaze settled on Jane's armless shoulder. The path my sister had taken to change and better herself had already cost her much. How much more would it cost if we kept going down this path? I feared the answer, but we had come too far to turn back now.

I clasped her hand and we resumed our trek farther into the forest. Jane took the lead once more, and she led me to where the forest opened up to a clearing.

She released my hand and pointed. "Here, this is where I saw them."

I was about to ask where they were when some stars twinkled above us with greater intensity than usual. They grew larger and brighter as they descended, and the orbs of light grew into silhouettes. As their feet touched grass, and facial features came into sight, I felt as if an arrow pierced through my heart.

There was Mother in her homespun gown, Father in his Frankish armor, and Connor, a grown man, just like Jane had said. Mother spread her arms, and the two of us ran into her embrace. Father was quick to wrap his arms around us, while Connor stood just to the side. I spilled hot tears all over Mother's front.

"It really is you," I breathed.

"You two came together this time," she said, her voice trembling.

Jane pulled away to embrace her son next. I held onto Mother and Father for a bit longer, until I too pulled back to take in the aching familiar sight of them.

"You haven't changed a day since I last saw you," I said fondly.

Mother touched my cheek. "You too, darling."

Father had a different answer. "You grew up some since I died. You and Jane were only six years old when you said your last good-byes to me. Now you're almost adults."

"And we stayed that way for more than a thousand years," I added with the slightest bitterness to my voice.

I turned to finally address Connor, whose build was even bigger and taller than Father's. "And you...you've certainly went on to live your life."

A smile broke out on his bearded face. "It's an honor to finally meet you proper, Uncle Alec."

He reached out to shake my hand, and I took it. "The honor's mine as well." To hear such a strong, deep voice from him took me aback. I couldn't believe that this man was the same little infant who had clung onto Jane.

Connor couldn't help laughing a little at my disbelief, then he looked between me and his mother curiously. "What brings you two here?" His green-eyed gaze settled on Jane. "This time feels different from before. This time you came back with purpose."

"You guessed right," she replied. "We were taught how to enter this world."

"What else have you gone through?" Mother reached out to rest her fingers on Jane's scarred forehead. "That wasn't there before."

"Nor this." Father brushed a thumb down the scars of my cheek. Their gestures bore a mix of parental love and concern. "What on earth have you been up to since you were away?"

Jane and I exchanged the briefest amused glance. "Where do we start?" I quipped.

Distant, almost haunting howls sounded from across the forest.

Seth and Leah were calling us. At that, Jane started for the direction of the howls and beckoned at our departed family. "Perhaps it's best if you come with us and we show you."

I've wanted to address the Jane-Bree Tanner problem for a while, but wasn't sure where I could put it. I decided this was the best place to address it. I feel like Jane's road to redemption wouldn't be complete without her confronting one of her most ruthless, cruel moments in the series. We all know the huge discomfort and shame that comes with trying to be better, but along the way we confront those moments we've sunk the lowest (either someone or yourself saying "hey, remember you did this shitty thing?"). It's only human, and I try to capture that human experience through Jane crossing paths with Bree again.