We made our flight with seconds to spare, and then the anxiety really hit. The plane sat idle on the tarmac while the flight attendants strolled—so casually—up and down the aisle, patting the bags in the overhead compartment to make sure everything fit. The pilots leaned out of the cockpit, chatting with them as they passed. Alice's hand was hard on my shoulder, gently squeezing me when she sensed my anxiety spike.

"It's faster than running," she reminded me in a low voice.

I just nodded in response.

At last the plane rolled lazily from the gate, building speed with a gradual steadiness that tortured me further. I expected some kind of relief when we achieved liftoff, but my frenzied anxiety didn't lessen.

Alice lifted the phone on the back of the seat in front of her before we'd stopped climbing, turning her back on the stewardess who eyes her with disapproval. Something about my expression stopped the stewardess from coming over to protest.

I tried to tune out what Alice was murmuring to Jasper; I didn't want to add to my anxiousness, but some of the conversation reached my ears.

"I can't be sure, I keep seeing her do different things, she keeps changing her mind…. A killing spree through the city, attacking the guard, lifting a car over her head in the main square… mostly things that would expose them—she knows that's the fastest way to force a reaction….

"No, you can't." Alice's voice dropped till it was nearly inaudible, though I was sitting inches from her. Contrarily, I listened harder. "Tell Emmett no… Well, go after Emmett and Royal and bring them back…. Think about it, Jasper. If she sees any of us, what do you think she will do?"

She nodded. "Exactly. I think Bella is the only chance—if there is a chance…. I'll do everything that can be done, but prepare Carlisle; the odds aren't good."

She laughed then, and there was a catch in her voice. "I've thought of that…. Yes, I promise." Her voice became pleading. "Don't follow me. I promise, Jasper. One way or another, I'll get out…. And I love you."

She hung up, and leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed. "I hate lying to him."

"Tell me everything, Alice," I begged. "I don't understand. Why did you tell Jasper to stop Emmett, why can't they come help us?"

"Two reasons," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "The first I told him. We could try to stop Edyth ourselves—if Emmett could get his hands on her, we might be able to stop her long enough to convince her you're alive. But we can't sneak up on Edyth. And if she sees us coming for her, she'll just act that much faster. She'll throw a Buick through a wall or something, and the Volturi will take her down.

"That's the second reason of course, the reason I couldn't say to Jasper. Because if they're there and the Volturi kill Edyth, they'll fight them. Bella." She opened her eyes and stared at me, beseeching. "If there were any chance we could win… if there were a way that the four of us could save my sister by fighting for her, maybe it would be different. But we can't, and, Bella, I can't lose Jasper like that."

I realized why her eyes begged for my understanding. She was protecting Jasper, at our expense, and maybe at Edyth's, too. I understood, and I did not think badly of her. I nodded.

"Couldn't Edyth hear you, though?" I asked. "Wouldn't she know, as soon as she heard your thoughts, that I was alive, and there was no point to this?"

Not that there was any justification, either way. I still couldn't believe that she was so stupid as to react like this. It made no sense! I remembered with irritable clarity her words that day on the sofa, while we watched Romeo and Juliet kill themselves, one after the other.I wasn't going to live without you, she'd said, as if it should be such an obvious conclusion. But the words she had spoken in the forest as she'd left me had canceled all that out—forcefully.

"If she were listening," she explained. "But believe it or not, it's possible to lie with your thoughts. If you had died, I would still try to stop her. And I would be thinking 'she's alive, she's alive' as hard as I could. She knows that."

I ground my teeth in mute frustration.

"If there were any way to do this without you, Bella, I wouldn't be endangering you like this. It's very wrong of me."

"I understand, Alice." I replied. "But I have to do this. I can't have the guilt haunting me for the rest of my life." I decided to change the subject. "Tell me what you meant, about hating to lie to Jasper."

She smiled a grim smile. "I promised him I would get out before they killed me, too. It's not something I can guarantee—not by a long shot." She raised her eyebrows, as if willing me to take the danger more seriously.

"Who are these Volturi?" I demanded in a whisper. "What makes them so much more dangerous than Emmett, Jasper, Royal, and you?" It was hard to imagine something scarier than that.

She took a deep breath, and then abruptly leveled a dark glance over my shoulder. I turned in time to see the man in the aisle seat looking away as if he wasn't listening to us. He appeared to be a businessman, in a dark suit with a power tie and a laptop on his knees. While I stared at him with irritation, he opened the computer and very conspicuously put headphones on.

I leaned closer to Alice. Her lips were at my ears as she breathed the story.

"I was surprised that you recognized the name," she said. "That you understood so immediately what it meant—when I said she was going to Italy. I thought I would have to explain. How much did Edyth tell you?"

"She just said they were an old, powerful family—like royalty. That you didn't antagonize them unless you wanted to… die," I whispered. The last word was hard to choke out.

"You have to understand," she said, her voice slower, measured now. "We Cullens are unique in more ways than you know. It's abnormal for so many of us to live together in peace. It's the same for Taras's family in the north, and Carlisle speculates that abstaining makes it easier for us to be civilized, to form bonds based on love rather than survival or convenience. Even James's little coven of three was unusually large—and you saw how easily Laurent left them. Our kind travel alone, or in pairs, as a general rule. Carlisle's family is the biggest in existence, as far as I know, with the one exception. The Volturi.

"There were three of them originally, Aro, Caius, and Marcus."

"I've seen them," I mumbled. "In the picture in Carlisle's study."

Alice nodded. "Two females joined them over time, and the five of them make up the family. I'm not sure, but I suspect their age is what gives them the ability to live peacefully together. They are well over three thousand years old. Or maybe it's their gifts that give them extra tolerance. Like Edyth and I, Aro and Marcus are… talented."

She continued before I could ask. "Or maybe it's just their love of power than binds them together. Royalty is an apt description."

"But if there are only five—"

"Five that make up the family," she corrected. "That doesn't include their guard."

I took a deep breath. "That sounds… serious."

"Oh, it is," she assured me. "There were nine members of the guard that were permanent, the last time we heard. Others are more… transitory. It changes. And many of them are gifted as well—with formidable gifts, gifts that make what I can do look like a parlor trick. The Volturi chose them for their abilities, physical or otherwise.

I opened my mouth, and then closed it. I didn't think I wanted to know how bad the odds were.

She nodded again, as if she understood exactly what I was thinking. "They don't get into too many confrontations. No one is stupid enough to mess with them. They stay in their city, leaving only as duty calls."

"Duty?" I wondered.

"Didn't Edyth tell you what they do?"

"No," I said, feeling the blank expression on my face.

Alice looked over my head again, toward the businessman, and put her wintry lips back to my ear.

"There's a reason we call them royalty… the ruling class. Over the millennia, they have assumed the position of enforcing our rules—which actually translates to punishing transgressors. They fulfill that duty decisively."

My eyes popped wide with shock. "There are rules?" I asked in a voice that was too loud.

"Shh!"

"Shouldn't somebody have mentioned this to me earlier?" I whispered angrily. "I mean, I was so involved in your lives! Shouldn't someone have explained the rules to me?"

Alice chuckled once at my reaction. "It's not that complicated, Bella. There's only one core restriction—and if you think about it, you can probably figure it out for yourself. You already follow it."

I did think about it. "You have to keep what you are a secret?"

"Exactly, and you instinctively knew that." She replied.

"Well, it is pretty obvious."

"It makes sense, and most of us don't need policing," she continued. "But, after a few centuries, sometimes one of us gets bored. Or crazy. I don't know. And then the Volturi step in before it can compromise them, or the rest of us."

"So Edyth…"

"Is planning to flout that in their own city—the city they've secretly held for three thousand years, since the time of the Etruscans. They are so protective of their city that they don't allow hunting within its walls. Volterra is probably the safest city in the world—from vampire attack at the very least."

"But you said they didn't leave. How do they eat?"

"They don't leave. They bring in their food from the outside, from quite far away sometimes. It gives their guard something to do when they're not out annihilating mavericks. Or protecting Volterra from exposure…"

"From situations like this one, like Edyth," I finished her sentence. I couldn't fathom how she could be so selfish and belligerent towards her family's feelings. Her death would devastate them. What's more, it was entirely possible that the whole Cullen family could be held responsible for her actions. The anger flared anew.

"I doubt they've ever had a situation quite like this," she muttered, disgusted. "You don't get a lot of suicidal vampires."

I realized I was shaking, I was so angry and frustrated. Alice seemed to understand. She wrapped her thin, strong arm around my shoulders.

"We'll do what we can, Bella. It's not over yet."

"Not yet." I let her comfort me, though I knew she thought our chances were poor. "But the Volturi will get us if we mess this up."

Alice stiffened. "Yes, they will."

I let out a groan of frustration.

"If you've changed your mind, we can turn around in New York and go back to Forks."

"I haven't changed my mind…" the hesitation was palpable in my voice.

"If you're sure." She was staring at me very intently.

"Alice, will you promise me something?"

She waited expectantly.

"Promise me—if we're too late for Edyth—that you'll do everything you can to get me back to Charlie." I could feel the intensity in my eyes.

"I'll do my damnedest, Bella."

"And you get yourself back to Jasper." I added.

She nodded and we were silent for a moment.

"Alright, I need to concentrate, now. I need to try and see what she's planning."

She left her arm around me, but let her head fall back against the seat and closed her eyes. She pressed her free hand to the side of her face, rubbing her fingerprints against her temple.

I watched her in fascination for a long time. Eventually she became utterly motionless, her face like a stone sculpture. The minutes passed, and if I didn't know better, I would have thought she'd fallen asleep. I didn't dare interrupt her to ask what was going on.

Without Alice to distract me, my thoughts instantly flashed back to Forks. It was a testament to my feelings about everything I had left behind that my thoughts were preoccupied with Charlie and home more than the horrors we were headed for—the worse horrors we would find if we failed.

The truth was, my thoughts were not just centered on Charlie or home. My mind was racing with thoughts about Julie. That last image of her sad face was burned into my memory. My heart ached from the fresh break I felt when I left her. I had to marvel at the fact that even though there was a chance—if we were very, very,very lucky—I would see Edyth,save Edyth, my thoughts were more on Julie. Besides, nothing had changed between Edyth and I—nothing had changed about our relationship. She still didn't want me. There was no reason for me to want to see her.

But Julie I did want to see. I wanted to beg her forgiveness, to apologize for leaving her like that—with so much unsaid between us. I couldn't think about it for too long, it hurt too much.

They showed a movie, and my neighbor got headphones. Sometimes I watched the figures moving across the little screen, but I couldn't even tell if the movie was supposed to be a romance or a horror film.

After an eternity, the plane began to descend toward New York City. Alice remained in her trance. I dithered, reaching out to touch her, only to pull my hand back again. This happened a dozen times before the plane touched down with a jarring impact.

"Alice," I finally said. "Alice, we have to go."

I touched her arm.

Her eyes came open very slowly. She shook her head from side to side for a moment.

"Anything new?" I asked in a low voice, conscious of the man listening on the other side of me.

"Not exactly," she breathed in a voice I could barely catch. "She's getting closer. She's deciding how she's going to ask."

We had to run for our connection, but that was good—better than having to wait. As soon as the plane was in the air, Alice closed her eyes and slid back into the same stupor as before. I waited as patiently as I could. When it was dark again, I opened the window to stare out into the flat black that was no better then the window shade.

I found myself wondering what I could possibly say to Charlie when—I refused to think if—I got back. And Julie? Poor sweet, Julie. She'd promised to wait for me, but did that promise still apply? Would I end up home alone in Forks, with no one at all? Would Charlie even let me stay after this?

It felt like seconds later when Alice shook my shoulder—I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep.

"Bella," she hissed, her voice a little too loud in the darkened cabin full of sleeping humans.

I wasn't disoriented—I hadn't been out long enough for that.

"What's wrong?"

Alice's eyes gleamed in the dim light of a reading lamp in the row behind us.

"It's not wrong." She smiled fiercely. "It's right. They're deliberating, but they've decided to tell her no."

"The Volturi?" I muttered, groggy.

"Of course, Bella, keep up now. I can see what they're going to say."

"Tell me."

An attendant tiptoed down the aisle to us. "Can I get either of you a pillow?" His hushed whisper was a rebuke to our comparatively loud conversation.

"No, thank you." Alice beamed up at him, her smile was shockingly lovely. The attendant's expression was dazed as he turned and stumbled his way back.

"Tell me," I breathed almost silently.

She whispered into my ear. "They're interested in her—they think her talent could be useful. They're going to offer her a place with them."

"What will she say?"

"I can't see that yet, but I'll bet it's colorful." She grinned again. "This is the first good news—the first break. They're intrigued; they truly don't want to destroy her—'wasteful,' that's the word Aro will use—and that may be enough to force her to get creative. The longer she spends on her plans, the better for us."

It wasn't quite enough to make me hopeful, to make me feel the relief she obviously felt. There were still so many ways that we could fail. And if we had to face the Volturi, I wouldn't be able to see Charlie or Julie again.

"Alice?"

"What?"

"I'm confused. How are you seeing this so clearly? And then other times, you see things far away—things that don't happen?"

Her eyes tightened. I wondered what she was thinking of my question.

"It's clear because it's immediate and close, and I'm concentrating. The faraway things that come on their own—those are just glimpses, faint maybes. Plus, I see my kind more easily than yours. Edyth is even easier because I'm so attuned to her."

"You see me sometimes," I reminded her.

She shook her head. "Not as clearly."

I sighed. "Sometimes I wish you had seen that all this would happen. In the beginning, I mean." I rubbed my temples. "Hell, you once even saw me becoming one of you someday."

She sighed. "It was a possibility at the time."

I laughed, once. It was a joyless laugh.

"Actually, Bella…" She hesitated, and then seemed to make a choice. "Honestly, I think it's all gotten beyond ridiculous. I'm debating whether to just change you myself."

I jumped and stared at her, frozen with shock.

"Did I scare you?" she wondered. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"I don't know!" I gasped. "Maybe once I thought about it—considered it. I never decided for sure though and now, I don't think it's what I really want anymore."

"Oh," she seemed surprised. "Well, at least you're being intelligent about it all."

"Thanks?"

"It would be foolish, anyway," she said, waving her hand. "Edyth would be furious."

"I think I'll take my chances being the human amongst the vampires and werewolves, Alice." I deadpanned.

She laughed at that. "You are so bizarre, even for a human."

"Thanks, I try."

"Well, there are more important things to worry about. Like, living through tomorrow."

"Good point." I wondered if I would want that—if I would want to be like the Cullens. Maybe I could be powerful and strong and Edyth would want me back? Would I want that, though? When I could just be me, be human, and be with Julie?If my mortality was the price to pay for her love i wasn't sure i wanted it. No i didn't. I couldn't think about all this. I didn't have a future right now. I only had the present.

"Go back to sleep," she encouraged me. "I'll wake you up when there's something new."

"Right," I mumbled, certain sleep was a lost cause now. Alice pulled her legs up on the seat, wrapping her arms around them and leaning her forehead against her knees. She rocked back and forth as she concentrated.

I rested my head against the seat, watching her, and the next thing I knew, she was snapping the shade closed against the faint brightening of the Eastern sky.

"What's happening?" I mumbled.

"They've told her no," she said quietly. I noticed at once that her enthusiasm was gone.

My voice was wary. "What's she going to do?"

"It was chaotic at first. I was only getting flickers, she was changing plans so quickly."

"What kinds of plans?" I pressed.

"There was a bad hour," she whispered. "She'd decided to go hunting."

She looked at me intently, and I understood.

"In the city," I breathed.

"It got very close." She continued. "She changed her mind at the last minute."

"She wouldn't want to disappoint Carlisle," I mumbled. She'd break Carlisle's heart getting herself killed, but she wouldn't want to disappoint him.

"Probably," she agreed.

"Will there be enough time?" As I spoke, there was a shift in the cabin pressure. I could feel the plane angling downward.

"I'm hoping so—if she sticks to her latest decision, maybe."

"What is that?"

"She's going to keep it simple. She's just going to walk out into the sun."

Just walk out into the sun. That was all.

It would be enough. The image of Edyth in the meadow—glowing, shimmering like her skin was made of a million diamond facets—was burned into my memory. No human who saw that would ever forget. The Volturi couldn't possibly allow it. Not if they wanted to keep their city inconspicuous.

I looked at the slight gray glow that shone through the opened windows. "We'll be too late," I whispered in frustration.

She shook her head. "Right now, she's leaning towards the melodramatic."

"Oh, is she? Wow, I'm shocked." I glared at her.

She ignored me. "She wants the biggest audience possible, so she'll choose the main plaza, under the clock tower. The walls are high there. She'll wait till the sun is exactly overhead."

"So we have till noon?"

"If we're lucky. If she sticks with this decision."

"She'll go for the drama," I sighed. "She'll stick with it."

The pilot came on over the intercom, announcing, first in Italian and then in English, our imminent landing. The seat belt lights dinged and flashed.

"How far is it from Florence to Volterra?"

"That depends on how fast you drive… Bella?"

"Yes?"

She eyed me speculatively. "How strongly are you opposed to grand theft auto?"

A bright yellow Porsche screamed to a stop a few feet in front of where I paced, the word TURBO scrawled in silver cursive across its back. Everyone beside me on the crowded airport sidewalk stared.

"Hurry, Bella!" Alice shouted impatiently through the open passenger window.

I ran to the door and threw myself in, feeling as though I might as well be wearing a black stocking over my head.

"Sheesh, Alice," I complained. "Could you pick a more conspicuous car to steal?"

The interior was black leather, and the windows were tinted dark. It felt safer inside, like nighttime.

Alice was already weaving, too fast, through the thick airpot traffic—sliding through tiny spaces between the cars as I cringed and fumbled for my seat belt.

"The important question," she corrected, "is whether I could have stolen a faster car, and I don't think so. I got lucky."

"I'm sure that will be very comforting at the roadblock."

She trilled a laugh. "Trust me, Bella. If anyone sets up a roadblock, it will be behind us." She hit the gas then, as if to prove her point.

I probably should have watched out the window as first the city of Florence and then the Tuscan landscape flashed past with blurring speed. This was my first trip anywhere, and maybe my last, too. But Alice's driving frightened me, despite the fact that I knew I could trust her behind the wheel. Besides, I was too filled with anxiety to really see the hills or the walled towns that looked like castles in the distance.

"Do you see anything more?"

"There's something going on," Alice muttered. "Some kind of festival. The streets are full of people and red flags. What's the date today?"

I wasn't sure so I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check. "Uh, it's the nineteenth."

"Well, that's ironic. It's Saint Marcus Day."

"Which means?"

She chuckled darkly. "The city holds a celebration every year. As the legend goes, a Christian missionary, a Father Marcus—Marcus of the Volturi, in fact—drove all the vampires from Volterra fifteen hundred years ago. The story claims he was martyred in Romania, still trying to drive away the vampire scourge. Of course that's nonsense—he's never left the city. But that's where some of the superstitions about things like crosses and garlic come used them so successfully. And vampires don't trouble Volterra, so they must work." Her smile was sardonic. "It's become more of a celebration of the city, and a recognition of the police force—after all, Volterra is an amazingly safe city. The police get the credit."

I was realizing what she meant when she'd said ironic. "They're not going to be very happy if Edyth messes things up for them on St. Marcus Day, are they?"

She shook her head, her expression grim. "No. They'll act very quickly."

I looked away, fighting against my teeth as they tried to break through the skin of my lower lip. Bleeding was not the best idea right now.

The sun was terrifyingly high in the pale blue sky.

"She's still planning on noon?" I checked.

"Yes. She's decided to wait. And they're waiting for her."

"Tell me what I have to do."

She kept her eyes on the winding road—the needle on the speedometer was touching the far right on the dial.

"You don't have to do anything. She just has to see you before she moves into the light. And she has to see you before she sees me."

"How are we going to work that?"

A small red car seemed to be racing backward as Alice zoomed around it.

"I'm going to get you as close as possible, and then you're going to run in the direction I point you."

I nodded.

"Try not to trip," she added. "We don't have time for a concussion today."

I glared back at her.

The sun continued to climb in the sky while Alice raced against it. It was too bright, and that had me panicking.

Maybe she wouldn't feel the need to wait for noon after all.

"There," Alice said abruptly, pointing to the castle city atop the closest hill.

I stared at it, feeling the very first hint of a new kind of fear. Every minute since yesterday morning—it seemed like a week ago—since Alice had spoken Edyth's name at the foot of the stairs, I had been filled with nothing but fear and panic. And now, as I stared at the ancient sienna walls and towers crowning the peak of the steep hill, I felt that fear and panic reach a high I never before thought was possible.

I supposed the city was beautiful. It absolutely terrified me.

"Volterra," Alice announced in a flat, icy voice.