Chapter Thirty-Four

The Coward

Corin was executed at dawn.

Lena watched from her room as they lit the fire. Smoke rose from the pit and drifted lazily into the grey sky of early morning. A group of guards gathered in a circle around the flames, waiting. Chelsea was not among them.

They carried her body out in pieces. Felix held her head, and Alex and Jane one arm each. Demetri carried the rest of her, her body slumped over his shoulder as he trailed behind. A strange procession. It didn't quite seem real.

The crowd parted, allowing the four to approach the pit. They stood at the edge of the fire, but did not toss what remained of Corin into the flames. They waited.

Three cloaked figures entered the courtyard. The kings. They came to stand some distance away. One of them nodded. And then, all at once, Corin's body was tossed into the fire.

The flames leapt up, welcomed her. Her clothes burnt. Her cloak - the one thing which united her with the very people who turned on her - caught first. Everything else followed.

Lena watched the tongues of fire taste her, consume her.

That could have been her.

That could still be her.

After a few minutes, the kings left. The guard stayed and watched. Was it some sick interest which kept them there, watching, or an order? Lena didn't know, couldn't judge them.

She didn't turn away either.

She thought it would be different. That the second Corin was gone, the guard would snap out of a spell. Aro's most beloved followers would turn on him in seconds, and throw him into the flames after her.

It didn't happen.

Corin had passed, and Lena couldn't see how it changed anything.

Chelsea had tricked her after all.

Lena was not there when they accused Corin, or when they tore her apart. She wondered if Chelsea was. Had she stood there silently when they condemned her friend? Did she cry when nobody was looking? Did Corin look Chelsea in the eye and damn her?

She couldn't have accepted her fate, no matter how much Chelsea told herself she would have understood. Even if she knew it was inevitable, that death would catch up to her eventually, Corin could not have expected it to happen like this.

Lena pushed away from the wall. She sat on her bed, next to an unopened box. Aro had delivered it earlier that morning, when the sun still hadn't risen and Corin was still alive. He had smiled at her, told her to run herself a hot bath and not upset herself needlessly, as if he wouldn't be sentencing her to death an hour later.

She was gone. One of her only allies in this hellscape was dead.

The heaviness in her gut could not be willed away. Could not be soaked and scrubbed out of existence with hot water.

Lena did not have many regrets - ghosts. She didn't like to keep them.

Everyday, she worked to free herself of the harrowing thoughts of her family. Sometimes, she heard her brothers' laughing. Other times, when she closed her eyes, she heard them screaming. She was learning to layer sound over it - to imagine the screech of violin strings, and the crash of pottery, and the squeal of tyres drowning the sounds out. She was going to avenge them.

Alistair haunted her too. Lingered in the corner of her eye. She smelt him sometimes - or thought she had. He was a temporary ghost though. One day, she would see him again. He wasn't dead, just very far away and very upset. An apology would be enough to fix that. He couldn't be mad at her forever.

But Corin - there was no way to make things right with Corin. She had betrayed her. Now, she was dead, and there was nobody to hurt in vengeance. Lena would not punish herself for it.

She sighed, and opened Aro's gift.

Another necklace. A dozen bright sapphires dangling from a thick band of silver.

She picked it up. The weight of it was immense when she recalled how dainty Alistair's had been. To think that she had given it away for this.

Had it been too unrealistic to hope for another finger?

She held the necklace to her neck. The silver was cold. She longed for the light touch of a small ruby brushing over her skin when she moved, a reminder of Alistair's gentle hands.

Twisting around, Lena looked at her reflection in the mirror. She felt nothing. No prettier, no better. She gave away her most cherished possession for this. For all of this. Just so she could watch someone's body roast and char from her bedroom window.

Lena dropped the piece of jewellery. It fell onto the mattress, jewels clattering against metal. Briefly, she thought of Afton. If he still had her necklace, maybe he would consider a trade…

She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Aro would be livid if he ever found out.

Later, when Chelsea and Lena crossed paths, the other woman would not look at her. Her face was neutral, her expression smoothed out into something horrifically bland.

Was she upset with her for actually following through?

Agitation ripped over her. A dozen rows of tiny little teeth nipped at the edges of her being. She wanted this. She asked for this.

Was she blaming Lena for it now?

Chelsea slipped a note in her hand as she passed her. Still, she wouldn't look at her.

Immediately, Lena wanted to unfold the paper and read it. Did Chelsea regret what they had done? Had she lost her nerve? Was she calling it off?

She knew better than to find out now. Privacy did not exist here.

So she tucked the piece of paper in her sleeve and continued down the hallway. Walked no faster, no slower. Even when her stomach coiled and her mind begged her to run, she did not.

She scurried the last few steps to her room. Slipped inside, and locked the door behind her. She leant against it as she unfolded the note with trembling hands.

The letters were difficult to decipher. All elaborate loops and swooping lines, and it didn't help that English was not her preferred language.

Tonight. Same place. I need a friend.

Lena sagged against the door, muscles relaxing before she caught herself. Why had Chelsea's words filled her with so much relief? It occurred to her that the thought of being alone terrified her. She found it much more frightening than before. Once, she liked the freedom. Roamed America for weeks on her own, despised living with the Cullens, was irritated by Alistair's company.

But then she arrived in Volterra, and was alone again, and she realised that she hated it. Was frightened by it. She was one amongst a hundred monsters, with not a soul on her side.

There was safety in the herd.

She understood now why the Cullens lived as they did, forming fake relationships and ties to each other. It was their loyalty - their allegiance - which gave them strength.

Stuffing the note back up her sleeve, she stood. Drew a steadying breath. She would be expected in the throne room soon, and she would have to pretend that none of this had happened.

Aro liked her to witness the interrogations. He thought she showed promise. She could be like Jane. She could force the truth from people by torturing them with their past.

He didn't understand.

Lena was paralysing. Nobody could confess when they were so terrified.

Aro misjudged her.

If the dungeons were still operating, she would have been better suited there.

She smoothed out her clothes, and cast one last glance at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't look as uneasy as she felt. When she straightened her spine and lifted her chin, her dark gaze was chilling.

She left her room.

Soon, she told herself. Soon, everything would end. She would be done with this. She could go home.

"Home," she scoffed, shaking her head.

Something was wrong with her lately. She was overwhelmed with idealism.

She hadn't had a home since she died.

The dungeon was dark, the tiny window on the far wall filled in black, the sun having dipped over the horizon hours ago now. The click of Lena's shoes echoed over the stone steps as she descended into the darkness, stopping at the base of the stairs.

She stood and listened.

Chatter, footfalls, laughter above. Life continued. No feast tonight, though. The kings had retired to their chambers for the evening. Half of the guard was gathered in some room upstairs, talking and gloating and complaining. They didn't speak of Corin. They didn't mourn her. They acted as if she never existed at all.

Chelsea arrived shortly after, entering the room with her head high. She was more poised than her, less on edge. Like she could tip her head and force the whole world to tilt along with it. Lena had once been like that. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Lena straightened her spine.

Chelsea's eyes settled on her. She was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread over her face. "I didn't think you could manage it."

She frowned.

"Don't misunderstand. I'm glad, truly. It means I don't have to do it. But I thought you were too-" She looked her up and down, searching for the right word-"skittish to be of use."

Lena stared at her.

"But perhaps," she said, "it would have been better to kill her yourself."

"Why?"

"You reported her to Aro, correct?"

"Yes."

"He touched you then."

Lena nodded. "Yes, but he doesn't know the truth. I confused him with fake memories."

Chelsea shook her head. "He knows you deceived him, stupid girl. He knows we are still plotting."

"He doesn't."

"He does," she hissed, stepping closer to her. "He knows every stupid thing you have ever thought, including your plan to trick him."

Lena frowned. If that were true, why had he let her leave? Why were both of them still standing, conspiring? Why had he executed Corin as she had planned?

Maybe… Maybe she did have some power here, however minute, however much she didn't quite understand it.

"Then why-"

"Are you still alive?" Chelsea asked. "Because he is an ambitious and greedy little man. He wants you, and he can hardly have you in his ranks if you are dead. Do not be so stupid as to think you ever have the upper hand again when it comes to him."

Lena looked away. Aro was planning something then. He was toying with her, playing a game far too difficult for Lena to grasp. Perhaps he had let her walk away to breed paranoia: he would send someone after her when her guard was down.

Or, worse yet, he would send nobody.

He would set out to destroy her.

Lena looked back at Chelsea. "Did we really have to kill her?"

"Corin's death was necessary," she said. "The guard will rise up with her gone."

"Maybe we were wrong. She is gone, and now we are in deeper-"

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. But maybe we shouldn't have-"

"We made the right call." Chelsea squeezed her shoulder.

Lena growled, and batted her hand away. She was tired of her dismissing her, talking over her. She stepped forwards, loomed over her. She was much taller than Chelsea. Wild, where she was orderly.

It frightened the woman.

Fear flickered in her eyes. Lena's beast, the ancient ghost housed in her bones, was excited by the mere thought. She was overcome with the urge to push harder, to nudge the woman closer to the edge, but refrained.

"Would you listen?" she hissed. "Corin's gone and nothing changed. Nobody said a thing."

"Did you think it would happen in a day?" she asked. "Her power lingers, but soon it will leave."

"When?"

"This isn't as simple as you think it is," Chelsea said. "Your little country life back in Greece could never compare. Do you understand how many eyes are upon us every moment of every day? There are a hundred vampires who would not hesitate to thrust you in front of Aro and report you for treason, just for a new coat or an extra human at the reaping."

Lena glared at her. Clenched her jaw.

"I don't have answers for you," she said. "It is my first time attempting such a feat too. Most who try do not succeed. It's not as though there is anyone here to ask for advice."

Unfair.

It was unfair that she was roped into this, convinced there was a plan when clearly Corin and Chelsea didn't have a clue as to what they were doing. They had nothing but talk, nice little daydreams they dreamt up together on their free afternoons. Betrayals they convinced themselves were necessary when they were alone.

Their ideas were born out of spite.

Lena was angry.

Already, she had given too much. Lost too much. Now, she was being led right to the open mouth of a waiting beast.

"You were wrong," Lena said, "for killing Corin, and for involving me in all of this."

She could do without someone like Chelsea. A woman who would not hesitate to throw her to the very monsters she claimed she wanted dead, if she thought it would serve her.

Lena thought they would be equals. Chelsea wouldn't make decisions without considering what was best for them all. It was clear now that Lena was little more than a distraction, just as Corin had been. Someone to fling in front of the kings when they started closing in on her.

She moved to pass her.

Chelsea grabbed her by the shoulder, and stopped her from continuing. "Don't be a coward."

Lena shoved her away from her.

Chelsea stumbled back. Her head smacked against the brick behind her.

Quickly, she closed the gap between them. Leaned over to look her in the eye. Predatory. "Self-preservation isn't cowardly."

Alistair taught her that. It was a lesson she never quite understood until now. Always, she was sick of the way he ran away from his problems instead of towards them. But now she understood. There came a time when it no longer made sense.

Standing by Chelsea would end in her demise.

She stepped back, turned again.

"Maybe I was wrong," Chelsea said, "but admitting it changes nothing. Corin is dead. We only have each other now."

Lena stopped.

"I don't know how long it will take. I haven't changed their loyalties yet."

She spun around. Narrowed her eyes at the disgusting woman in front of her. "You killed her. Not me, and not Aro. You, Chelsea," she spat. "And because of you, her death was pointless."

"Marcus would know. If suddenly the entire guard were against the kings, he would know it was me."

She wanted to protect herself.

"You are the coward."

She shook her head. "It wouldn't have mattered. Corin's power lingers."

Lena stalked over to her, and grabbed her by the collar. Lifted her up, and slammed her against the stone wall behind her.

Chelsea didn't struggle. Didn't make a sound. Stared at her with pathetic eyes, limp in her grasp.

"Listen to me," Lena said. "Corin did her part. You will do yours too. I will make sure of it."

"Not yet," she said. "We must move carefully now. Marcus has to go first. Then we will have our rebellion, Lena."

"Corin was difficult enough. How could I make them execute a king?"

"Find a way."

Lena growled. "And what have you done so far?"

"I will do plenty," she said. "But first, you have to get rid of Marcus."

Chelsea was scared - not just of her, but of the Volturi. Lena could see that, but she did not know how to rid her of it. She was frightened too.

Lena forced her hands to relax, forced herself to drop her. "You'll owe me another favour."

"Don't pretend you don't want this as much as I do," she said.

"Another favour."

"You're just as deep in this as I am. One word to Aro, and you're finished."

"I have his ear, too," she said. "Maybe he even likes me better."

Chelsea's eyes flickered between Lena's. She was quiet. Then, she sighed. "Fine. I'll owe you. Make sure it's done."

Careful not to touch her, she stepped around Lena. Walked across the dungeon, her pace measured. It was not until she was halfway up the stairs that she ran.

Lena stood for a moment, glaring at the space she just occupied. The urge to crush her grew with each passing second. She knew she could. Destroying her would be easy. All she had to do was look deep into her pathetic little eyes, drag up an unfavourable memory, and watch as it destroyed her. Perhaps she could help Corin's spirit find peace.

But she couldn't. If she did, Lena would never have hers.

Lena had been careless.

The stairs to the dungeons came off a hallway, hidden behind an arched wooden door. Her mind was somewhere else, some angry and upset place she found comfort in. She didn't think to stop. Didn't think to listen for passing feet. She swung the door open without thought.

Marcus happened to be passing by. He froze, turned, stared at her.

Lena wanted to shrivel up. Every violent thought coursing through her vanished the second his eyes landed on her.

"And what business would you have in the dungeon?"

Lena said nothing. Shifted her feet. Tucked the note, folded neatly, further up her sleeve.

A mistake.

The crinkle of paper caught his attention. He reached out, and grabbed her arm. He pushed up her sleeve, ignoring her protests and the way she tried to pull away from him.

"What's this?" He held the square of paper between his first and middle finger.

Lena lunged forwards, meaning to snatch it back.

Marcus was deceptively quick. Most of his movements were slow and morose. Lena swiped at air, at the space his arm had occupied mere seconds ago.

"Careful," he said. "The others might mistake that for assault."

Lena forced herself not to move, not to speak. She glanced around, worried that someone was nearby, watching. The hallway appeared empty. This was no consolation.

Aro would be upset if he heard that she had been seen speaking with Marcus. He gave her strict orders not to talk to the other kings. As far as he was concerned, he owned her. She supposed he did, in a way. Two of her fingers were still locked up in his room.

Lena's head snapped back to Marcus at the sound of paper crinkling. Carefully, he unfolded the note. His eyes darted over the words. "Tonight. Same place. I need a friend," he read. He looked up at her. "It's Chelsea's writing, I believe. I wasn't aware you were acquainted."

She stiffened. Did he know? He saw her absence of a connection to the kings. Did he see her ties to Chelsea, or did she have to be present for that? And if he saw them, did he understand what they meant?

She could only hope that he misunderstood. That he thought Chelsea was spending time with her under the command of Aro, to strengthen her ties to the Volturi. That was what she was used for, wasn't it? To establish loyalty.

Lena shrugged. "We are friends, like she says."

"Close friends?"

"Not really. Just friends."

His eyes drifted from her face to the door behind her. "The dungeon is an odd place to meet a friend, isn't it?"

"It's private."

"There's no such thing as privacy here," he said. "Why did you meet?"

"Corin's dead," Lena said. "Maybe your power is lacking if you couldn't tell she and Chelsea were close. Today was difficult for her. She needed someone."

His top lip curled and his eyes narrowed.

Lena reached forwards, and snatched the note back. "Is that all, Master?"

He leaned closer to her, his face looming before hers. His expression was dark. Frightening.

"I am not fooled by you. Pretend to obey all you like, but your heart has not changed. You aren't loyal to Aro, or to this coven. You only serve yourself," he spat.

Then, with a short growl, he tore his eyes from her, and continued down the hall.