Shahrazád's Ghosts
Chapter 23: Isabella Part II
2416 A.D.
From her perch in the gatehouse, standing on her tiptoes to see what she could through the arrow slits of the tower, Isabella strained to get a glimpse of the infamous "Mistress of Barzakh."
"What can you hear?" Isabella asked Michael, hoping he could glean more with his telepathy, but he shook his head.
"I can't hear anything. She is as silent as Bell… and so is he."
"How is that possible?"
"I don't know… though from the glimpses I sometimes caught in Aro's mind, she is a very powerful shield and she can use her gift on other people, not just herself. I would assume she is shielding Peter so I won't be able to hear him."
"What does she have to hide?" Isabella mused.
Mikie squirmed around on the floor by their feet. A forgotten drawer in a corner had produced a ball of yarn. This had been entirely unrolled and tangled around the room like a blue spider web. Khalid and Kassim sat on the floor beside the crawling child, each taking turns untangling Mikie's feet and arms whenever he got caught in his own little web.
When the sound of a car motor approaching first warned them of incoming visitors, Isabella tried to see which of the arrow holes would grant her the most visibility, but she could not see much other than the white exterior of a rented car.
"There they are," Michael said. He did not need to stand on his tip toes to see out the arrow hole facing due west. He leaned on the thick ledge of carved rock and peered out towards where two figures came into her line of vision, walking towards the perimeter wall of the castle courtyard.
Isabella wasn't sure what exactly she had expected, but the woman who appeared certainly wasn't it. Then again, there had never been a coherent way to splice together the contradicting accounts of this version of her mother. Kassim's memories revealed a pale girl with short hair, hardly older than a teenager, following around the inhabitants of Barzakh like a silent shadow. She appeared more like a mouse caught in a trap than the vampire queen of an underground city and with an immortal army of her own.
She didn't know why she expected this clone of her mother to look different from the others, but she had. Sometimes, Isabella envisioned someone like the Norse conception of the goddess Hel, who was half garbed in life and half in death, her body split between flesh and exposed bone. Sometimes, she thought of the Hindu mother goddess Kali, who dwelt in the funeral grounds with her skirt of human arms and a sash of human heads. These avenging angels wielded destruction and death, though only for those who were deserving of the feel of their blades. Isabella imagined the woman who not only survived servitude to a deranged vampire but wished to dismantle the lords of the vampire world would at least look more, well, intimidating. Maybe wear all black or the hands of her decapitated underlings or something.
However, the vampire who appeared was barely taller than Alice and at first, all Isabella could see was an apparition entirely in white who glided across the cobbled road in bare feet. The white chiffon of her kaftan dress fell away from her elbows and joined the train of her dress in a billowing cloud behind her as she walked. Diamond shaped pendants dripped from her ears and down the center of her forehead, casting light from the myriad of stones inlaid in them and imitating the beadwork along the bodice of her dress. Her face was as shimmeringly pale as the white kaftan. The only splashes of color were the dark mahogany of her shoulder-length hair and the red of her lips. The overall effect was that of a statue carved of moonlight.
The man who walked a few paces before her was less surprising, but equally disconcerting. His long, auburn beard was interrupted with one streak of grey. His hair fell down his back in a series of wavy burnished locks intermixed with braids. His measured strides caused his emerald cloak to fall behind him and reveal the embroidered ivory tunic beneath.
His blood red eyes were unreadable as he looked over each of the vampire members of the Cullen household in turn. He stopped a few feet before his mistress and he did not take his eyes from the seven vampires. The Cullens stared back and fell into an automatic defensive line while they waited to see which side would break the silence.
"Peter!" came a shout from behind Jasper and Emmett's broad backs. Bell pushed her way forward to throw herself into the visitor's outstretched arms.
Peter picked Bell up and swung her in a wide circle. Then he placed a kiss on both her cheeks before settling his lips on her forehead. He let his forehead fall to rest against hers and both of them stayed in a locked embrace with their eyes closed.
"Oh, my Bell. I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to you," he whispered.
Bell's shoulders heaved in a tearless sob and she nestled her face into his chest.
"I am so glad to see you again," she said. "I hoped, no, I knew you would come."
From his vantage point, Michael frowned and began to grumble to himself. His jaw clenched tighter and tighter the longer Peter and Bell stayed as they were, entirely enclosed in their own little world. Khalid and Kassim had both moved to stand next to him, their hands clasped on him. Isabella saw this and she quickly moved to join them. Khalid gave her a small smile and held out his hand to her. No one dared to speak or make a noise lest they bring attention to themselves. When she took his hand, her mind filled with images of the gathering below, but much closer and in more detail than her own senses could detect.
It was also delayed. Once Michael's perceptions of events were settled into memories, Kassim could glean them from his mind. The memories, while multisensory, were a bit like watching a movie with scent and taste and feel included and not like hearing a story told from Michael's perspective. She could see as an outside observer what was happening, but she could not know the thoughts, interpretations, meanings or motivations of what she saw. It captured the external images without the internal processing and thus stripped layers off of thoughts which Michael's gift would naturally have added in. However, she could still see all that was happening from seven different sets of eyes and ears that was enough.
A sudden wave of delicious joy and warm affection rolled through the group. It was so strong that Emmett and Rosalie closed their eyes and appeared almost like a pair of lizards basking on a rock in the sun. When they opened their eyes again, they glared over at Jasper. He winked and put his hands into his pockets before he nodded back at Peter and Bell.
Isabella realized he was projecting the emotions of Peter and Bell over the rest of the group so they could all experience a taste. It was as thick as spun honey and it was hard to move away or remember that they should. It was Jasper who moved first and reminded them all that there was still a world outside of Peter and Bell. He slowly and methodically walked across the space between them to the glowing shadow, still frozen behind Peter.
Upon Bell's first approach, the woman in white had failed to take another step. She had forgotten about any other vampire around her and focused entirely on Peter and Bell, though not even the hint of an expression flickered across her beautiful face. She must have felt something, though, for Jasper to initiate a greeting and willingly separate himself from the safety their greater numbers provided.
He surprised Isabella by taking the vampire's hand. He gave a formal bow, placed a kiss on her hand, and then he stood as straight and upright as a soldier before her.
"How do you do, ma'am?" he asked. "I am Jasper Whitlock. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
She carefully appraised his face, his posture, and the myriad of scars marring his body. Finally, she pulled herself upright with such a haughty move of her neck that she seemed to stand taller than Jasper, despite the foot difference between them, and she nodded her head in response to his greeting.
"I am Wendy Moira Angela Darling," she answered. "You may call me Darling."
From behind Jasper, Emmett's snicker was cut off by Rosalie's elbow in his gut.
"What was that for?" he complained.
"Shut it," she hissed back.
"But she…ugh, fine."
Hearing Jasper's voice had broken whatever spell had fallen upon the reunited pair and Peter finally released Bell from his arms, though he did not let go of her hand.
"And this is Peter, the one I told you about," Bell interjected. "Peter, this is my family."
Bell did not bother to notice Darling or the tense anxiety still crawling across the postures of the rest of the Cullens. They may have been fixated on Darling, but Bell only had eyes for Peter. She tugged on his hand to bring him towards the rest of the Cullens.
"Carlisle is our new father and he made sure Mikie came safely. Oh, you must meet Mikie. Michael, come down!" she said, directing her focus on the gatehouse before bringing Peter to the next member of her family. "This is Esme, his wife, and she knows how to fix everything and anything- she can even fix broken cups! She taught me how to make potatoes and carrots for Mikie and she knows how to make flowers grow and promised to teach me. Oh, Peter, the flowers! I have to show you the flowers! I have never seen so many colors! We have an entire garden here, and there is so much to see!
"Then, here is Rosalie and her husband, Emmett. Rosalie sings nearly as beautifully as you and she can play the piano. Emmett likes to make everyone laugh and his laugh is contagious. He promised to teach me all about making jokes so I can make people laugh too. Oh, Peter, I've never laughed so much or been so happy! You will love it here!
"Alice is Jasper's wife and she can see things most people don't, but it makes her sad, sometimes. That is why she has Jasper, because he knows how to make people happy."
Bell hardly stopped to take a breath and she did not let any of the others slip in a response other than a brief head nod or "hi" before she overflowed onto the next person. She nearly radiated with her excitement as she took Peter from person to person.
"There are the others, too, of course, but Jasper said they needed to hide until we made sure it was safe for them to come, but now that you are here, of course they are safe."
"I will look forward to meeting them," Peter said. "Are Khalid and Kassim still here?"
"Yes."
"I am glad of it." Peter gave the rest of the gathering a solemn nod. "For what you have done for my Bell, you have my eternal gratitude. I hardly dared to hope that…, well, …," he began, before he turned his face away, entirely overcome with emotion. When he had organized himself into a semblance of calm, he faced them again. "What I mean to say is, well, there are no words for it. My Bell is still here and by the looks of her, she is happier than I've ever seen her. There is no way I can thank you enough for this gift. It means more to me than I can ever say."
"Michael and Bell have been a gift to us," Carlisle answered, his eyes warm with his sincerity. "I can't thank you enough for entrusting them to us. Peter, Darling, you are very welcome here."
At the sudden remembrance of Darling, she seemed to shift from the shadows and back into the spotlight. Until then, she had not moved a single step from where Jasper had greeted her. Now, she looked over each of the faces before her and she turned on Peter, her eyes heating with a flash of anger.
"You didn't tell me it was his family!" she hissed. "Why would you bring me to them?"
She turned on her heels and nearly ran off, but Peter was faster. He left Bell's side and caught Darling before she could disappear back into the car.
"Do not run, my Lady," he pleaded. "You never asked, or I would have told you all. Since we left Neverland, you have barely said two words together to me. You were angry enough with me so I did not wish to make you angrier by speaking without permission."
When he spoke, he tone was more that of ironic humor than true apology and there was a thread of subtle familiarity which belied the formality of the words he addressed her with.
"You thought wrong. This is a very pertinent piece of information."
"Well, I can hardly read your mind now, can I?"
"But you should have known!" she hissed back. She pushed his arms away and she stood with her arms crossed and her eyes glaring daggers at him. "You should have told me!"
"You asked me to take you to Bell and Michael. I've done as you asked."
"But why, in all the places on land and sea, would you take Bell and Michael to his family? You know enough of what he was like… if you wished for her to live, why take her here?"
Peter lowered his arms and made soothing noises, as if comforting a snapping dog and not an angry vampire. "They needed to be somewhere with people who knew about human and vampire births. They have dealt with… these kinds of children… before… so I came to them for help."
"Because their family makes it a habit of impregnating humans?" Darling retorted.
Peter sighed. "There is more you need to be told, but now is not the time. I will tell you all myself, whether you ask for it or not, but not now. Alice?"
At his question, Alice stepped forward and nodded. "The Volturi have sent a scouting party. They would have been here before you, if you had chosen the other flight."
Darling's posture and demeanor shifted at that. She stared at Peter and then, ever so subtly, she nodded.
Gradually, the defensive line of the Cullens had drifted into a half-circle, with Darling and Peter at its center.
"How many?" Jasper asked.
"Four. Demetri, Jane, Felix, and Jemma," Alice answered.
"Can you tell what will happen?"
Alice shrugged. "If the children stay away, I can see better. There are a few ways this can go, but I can't tell which is the most likely."
"Children?" Darling asked, her nostrils flared.
"Come on down," Jasper said with a nod towards the gatehouse. "There's no reason to keep hiding away."
With a collective movement, all the inhabitants of the gatehouse moved towards the door, each getting tangled in blue yarn as they did.
"Peter, here's my Michael and our son," Bell said, her face breaking into a radiant smile again. Michael continued to disentangle yarn from his son's hands. It trailed all the way down the stairs and was still wrapped around the other three who only now managed to catch up with Michael. "Meet Michael Peterson. We named him after you, well, partly after you. We named him after Michael, too, but the other name is for you."
Peter's eyes swam with emotion again as he ran a hand over the mop of red curls and the full, ivory cheeks of the boy. Mikie shyly turned into his father's neck before peeking back at the stranger again.
"Oh, Bell, he is beautiful. Nearly as lovely as his mother."
"I couldn't have done it without you," she said and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek again. "And definitely not without my new family."
Bell tugged on his arm to lead him to where the remaining trio now stood. "These are, well, you know Khalid and Kassim, of course. And this is their sister, Isabella."
No longer mediated by the layers of memories and the distance from the gatehouse, Peter towered over Isabella. It was not that he was that much taller than Michael, but that he was broader and he had so much more, well, she could only explain it as "gravity". There was a weight about him that seemed to draw the attention of everyone around him to the place he inhabited, as if he had a greater mass then anyone else around him and his presence could be felt even when he was entirely silent. When he chose to speak, the weight of him was nearly overpowering.
After so many of Kassim's memories of her father, Michael's appearance and integration into their lives had taken time for her to adjust. Michael was not the ruined, disintegrating man her father had been. He was so bright, so alive, so bubbling over with life that he had eroded her past images of what her father had been and become, and he inscribed himself in her memories as "not Edward but Michael." He was simply Michael now and not in any way attached to her ideas of her deceased father.
Peter was something else entirely.
"Your brothers spoke highly of you, Isabella. It is an honor to meet you for myself," he said. His red eyes overflowed with such an earnest sincerity that Isabella felt the full weight of that honor, as he meant her to.
Darling did not come closer or speak to any of the newcomers. She watched from a distance. Her eyes were golden, but they were not the warm, dented gold of old wedding bands. Instead, they were the cold, hard gold of an expensive necklace, long-neglected in a museum vault. She carefully looked over each of the children before she addressed Peter again, her manner that of one used to being obeyed.
"They need to leave. Bell and Peter and those four…what they called 'children'."
"My Lady?" Peter asked. Michael drew the baby closer to his chest and glared at Darling and even Bell stopped smiling and placed her hand on Michael's shoulder.
"If that one is correct and Demetri is coming, then they will need to leave. Now.
They must not be within a traceable distance, but they must stay close enough for Peter and Michael to hear each other."
"I won't leave Bell and my son," Michael interjected.
Darling ignored him and focused her attention on Peter. "They are not coming for Michael. They know him already. Demetri is following him here. They do not know you and they must not find you. They must not find Bell."
"Sorry, I don't mean to be a jerk, but I'm going to be a jerk anyway, but these are my niece and nephews, after all, and I want them safe," Emmett said. He pushed his way forward and spoke with his large hands flying around his face enthusiastically. "Won't the kids be better defended with more of us around rather than less? I mean, no offense, but taking directions from a vampire who thinks she is living in a child's story seems like, you know, something we should ask more questions about."
Darling's answering glare made Emmett take one step back, but he did not retract his statement.
"She's right," Jasper said, surprising everyone.
Darling arched one eyebrow at Emmett until he lifted up his hands in a show of surrender.
"There's one more thing," she said. "You must let me be the one to speak. They are following Michael to find me. The reason I brought Michael back from Volterra was to bring them to me. Here I am."
She did not fear the scouting party but appeared to almost look forward to seeing them. When her red lips parted just enough for a gleam of teeth to shine through, Isabella shuddered.
