Chapter V: The Bonfire of the Quileutes

"The flames of the luau bonfire burned brightly. Sparks flew into the sky and disappeared before they reached the stars above. Near the horizon, the moon was large and round and flawless as porcelain."

—Victoria Kahler, Capturing the Sunset

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Quil watched from the water as Jacob and Renesmee climbed back into the car and drove away. Jake was driving, he noticed, and he didn't blame them. Nessie looked shaky as hell behind the wheel. Especially for a Cullen.

She waved down to them before leaving, and they all waved back.

He spared a glance for Seth, who returned it. Smiling. Grinning. Ecstatic. Jacob had asked her. It took him six years, but he was finally taking her to The Bonfire.

"Quil!" Clare called, annoyed. It was getting late, and about time he was getting her home.

"What, Clare Bear?" Her curfew had been extended, however slightly, because she was almost ten. And didn't she love to tell everyone. "I'm ten next week, Quil!" she'd been saying all day. "A proper grown up!"

She, of course, was not a grown up. How horrible a situation would that be? He didn't envy Jacob there . . .

"I said, let's play one more game before you take me home," Clare said.

It didn't take long for Jacob to drop Nessie home, and he arrived back at the beach in the middle of the most exciting game of tag ever played.

"Uncle Jake!" she screamed when she saw him, and ran to give him a hug.

"Clare!" he said, spinning her in a circle. She was getting big, but Jacob was still a giant, so he perched her on his hip. "Hey, Lisa." Clare jumped down, almost instantly, too old for such things, and ran straight for the water.

"Don't get wet, Clare, it's too late!" Quil yelled after her. "Don't go too close—"

"I'll watch her," Lisa offered, and followed the child to the water.

Seth turned to Jacob immediately, expectantly. "So . . . did I hear right? Did you ask Nessie to The Bonfire?"

Jake smiled a small, nervous smile. "Yeah."

"I thought you were going to wait until she was older?" Quil asked, alternating his gaze between his friend and his imprint every few seconds.

"So did I. It just sort of . . . came out."

Seth leaned forward, whispering quietly. "Are you really going to tell her then? About imprinting?"

Jacob took a deep breath, so deep it emptied his lungs, and released it slowly. "I guess so," he said, like he was convincing himself more than anything. "Yeah. I am. I'm gonna tell her." He looked at the water, smiled again, and said again, "I'm going to tell her."

"This is great! So we can finally do the blessing thing? With the necklaces?" Quil asked.

The Quileutes had an old ritual whereby the wolves of the pack and their imprints all gathered around a bonfire and blessed something of significance. They tried to do this last year, but Jacob had chickened out. "Nessie's just too young," he'd said. And you can't do the blessing without your alpha.

But they were set to do it this year, and Jacob was on board.

"You're really going do it with Clare?" he asked Quil. Seth had wandered down to the water; he didn't have an imprint but he had Lisa.

"Yeah," Quil told him. "I mean, I'm not going to tell her anything, but I'll do the blessing."

Jacob racked his fingers through his hair. "When will you tell her?" Their situations were very different, Clare was human and not the daughter of his first love, but they were both young.

Quil looked down to the water, to where Clare was playing. She was slowing a little, getting tired. "I don't know. When she's old enough to understand? She's still a baby, really; I don't have to worry about it yet."

They listened to the ocean for a moment. "Am I doing the right thing by telling her?" Jacob asked his oldest friend.

Quil nodded regretfully. "She deserves to know, Jake. That doesn't mean anything has to happen right away," he clarified when Jacob looked alarmed. "She's still young. But she deserves to know."

Jacob nodded back at him. The plan was set—in truth, it had been set for years. He'd bring her to the bonfire and let her hear the story of the Third Wife from Old Quil. Then he could explain afterwards, and everything would be fine.

He was terrified of what would happen: that she might look at him in revulsion and run away and refuse to see him again. The thought made his chest ache, and he almost changed his mind right there. But Quil's words were echoing in his head.

"She deserves to know, Jake. She deserves to know."

When Renesmee got home that evening, she watched from the cottage door as Jacob drove away. She waved at the back of the car, unable to hold in the smile that took hold. When he had gone, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her parents weren't home yet, but they were on their way, so she had only a minute to digest everything Jacob had said to her today.

A bit overwhelmed, she dropped into a chair in the kitchen. When Jacob had suggested driving lessons this afternoon, she had no idea they would end up having such a discussion.

And the things he had said!

About not dating and not searching for girls and knowing that he would just find his sole-mate when he needed to. It was sweet and romantic and . . . so different from her normal Jacob.

She heard her parents' distant voices and so thought of other, safer things that happened this evening, of the bonfire. She got up and went to the sink to get a drink, and that is where her mother found her.

"Hey, Renesmee," her mother said. "Did you have a nice time?"

"Yeah, I did." She took a sip. "Where's Dad?"

Bella's lips twitched in an almost-smirk. "Gone to get the Volvo."

"Oh." She evaluated her mother, the mood she was in. She seemed pretty happy, considering this morning's events, so Nessie took a shot. "Mom, Jake invited me to this bonfire tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Some Quileute tradition. " She'd barely gotten that out of him on the way home; he was being pretty cryptic about the whole thing.

"I'm sure it's fine, Nessie."

She smiled from cheek to cheek and gave her mother a hug. "Thanks."

That night, lying in bed, Renesmee got very little sleep. She didn't know if it was excitement for the morning, or the stress of not thinking about what Jacob had said to her, or the embarrassment of having to face Emmett after crashing the Volvo. Probably a combination of all three.

But, as Nessie tossed and turned, a wolf howled in the distance, and Renesmee found herself drifting into a light but content slumber.

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Jacob had arranged to collect her the next afternoon at the cottage and was, as he always is, exactly on time. The sun was high in the sky, which in itself was a rarity, but the breeze from the coast kept the temperature from rising to anything remotely warm.

As soon as Nessie heard his car, she ran out to meet him. He was climbing out and, as he caught sight of her, a beautiful smile graced his face.

"Hello," he said, and she said it back. "Are you ready?" he asked, sounding like he wasn't quite ready himself.

"Of course," she said. "Bonfires are always fun."

He smiled again.

Behind them, the cottage door opened and Nessie's parents emerged. Edward's arm was draped casually around Bella's waist and they looked like they always looked—desperately in love. In sync with each other to a millisecond, enveloped in each other's presence. Two pieces of a whole.

"Have you got everything?" her mother asked. "A sweatshirt? Your phone?"

Renesmee nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Alright," Bella said, and she came forward to hug her. "You have fun tonight, okay?"

"Okay," Nessie said to her mother's neck. When they pulled back, she was surprised to see her mom looked sad. There was an unrecognisable winter in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Bella said. "You're just getting so grown up." She glanced over Nessie's shoulder at Jacob, and the two shared a strange look. Bella leaned in and kissed her daughter once more on the forehead before releasing her.

As Renesmee stepped back, her father appeared at her side and hugged her, too. "Enjoy yourself, darling," he said.

"I will," she told him, but she didn't miss that, in the corner of her eye, Jacob and Bella were embracing as well. She whispered something immortally fast that Nessie couldn't hear, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

Renesmee looked back to her dad and raised her eyebrow. What's all that about? the gesture asked. Edward shrugged entirely too innocently and kissed her once more.

Jacob and her mother whispered for another moment, and then broke apart. "You good to go, Ness?" he asked.

Ever the gentleman, Jacob came around to the passenger side and opened the door. As Renesmee climbed in, she waved goodbye to her parents. Bella was wearing that same sad look of apprehension, watching Nessie leave as though she'd never see her again.

"What's wrong with my mom?" she asked, as soon as they were safely out of hearing range.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," she said. "She looked upset or something."

Jacob took a sharp corner; he was just as reckless a driver as her parents were. Though she couldn't say much. "I guess," he said evasively. "I didn't really notice." He seemed very distracted.

"How could you not notice? You were hugging her. And what was that about?" Jacob opened his mouth confusedly, so Nessie clarified: "The hugging, I mean. Why is everyone so emotional?"

He shrugged in a they're-your-family kind of way. Renesmee wasn't quite convinced.

"So what's going on tonight?"

Jacob was watching the road. His fingers flexed over the steering wheel. She noticed just how nervous he looked. "A bonfire," he said. "On the Second Beach cliffs."

"Like the summer bonfire?" she asked.

"Kind of like the summer one, I guess. This one's a bit different, though."

"Why?" she asked. "How's this one different?"

"Well, I guess that's the surprise bit."

Renesmee didn't really care what it was they were doing so long as they were doing it together. She was thrilled to be spending the night with him. "Sounds like fun."

Jacob looked at her properly then, and a spark of excitement ignited in his eyes. "It will be."

Any journey, regardless of the distance, never seemed long when she was with Jacob. They arrived at Second Beach just as the sun was beginning to set. He took her hand and they set off along the sand at a leisurely pace. In the distance, Nessie could see the blaze of a bonfire reaching for the dusky twilight sky.

She was never nervous at these things, even though she wasn't a Quileute and so technically didn't belong. She belonged with Jacob and that always seemed enough.

There was a big group of people already there, laughing and joking and dancing around the orange flames. Sam and Emily, Paul and Rachael. Jacob's Dad, Billy, and his friends Seth, Embry, and Quil. Sam's pack was there, too, and the old tribal elders. Sue Clearwater, and Jared with his wife, Kim.

The smell of freshly cooked meat was so potent in the air she could hardly make out the scent of werewolf.

Billy saw her instantly. His wheelchair was stationed at what seemed like the natural head of the circle. Beside him on a folding lawn chair, looking brittle as ever, was Quil's ancient, white-haired grandfather, Old Quil.

"Hey, Nessie," Billy said as they reached him. "I'm so happy Jake decided to bring you tonight." His words were heavy, like she was missing the real meaning in them.

"So am I," Nessie said, trying so replicate his sincerity. He smiled oddly at her, the way Jacob had been, like she was on the outside of an inside joke.

She loved Billy dearly; he was so much like a grandfather to her. He had taught her to speak Quileute when she was young; he had always looked after her. Old Quil, on the other hand, she hardly knew, and he was watching her strangely.

"Renesmee Cullen?" he said, his voice like wisps of smoke. "Is that really you? Little Nessie Cullen?"

"Yep," Jacob said behind her. "Except she's not so little anymore."

"I'll say. You're practically a woman." He appraised her, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. She felt Jacob step closer behind her. "Just look at how much you've grown."

She smiled, but it was strained. "I know – I can't help it."

"Nor should you." He finally took his eyes away. "Sorry – you're just so grown up. And pretty."

Jacob put his hands on her shoulders and she subconsciously reached back to hold one of his wrists.

Old Quil looked up to him as though he had just remembered his presence. "Is she finally old enough then? You going to let her hear the stories? Learn the truth?"

"That's the plan," Jacob said curtly.

"What stories?" Renesmee asked. She looked over her shoulder at Jacob. "What truth?"

He looked slightly annoyed, but he smiled at her. "You've heard them all before – you know, the spirit walkers and Taha Aki." That didn't seem to be what Old Quil was talking about. "Come on." He took her hand in his and gave it a tug. "Let's go say hi."

Renesmee waved goodbye as Jacob towed her away from his father and over to his friends by the fireside.

Her head was bursting with questions now. What stories was Old Quil talking about? What did he mean by, 'now that she's old enough'? Why was Jacob—and her parents, for that matter—acting so weird?

She was so preoccupied in thought she barely registered Quil and Seth and Embry, who all jumped up to give her their seat on the log.

"Jacob," she said, pulling him back to her. "What was he talking about?"

"Nothing, Ness. Come on, let's sit—"

"It wasn't nothing." She widened her eyes, offended he considered her so imprudent as to let it go that easily. "Tell me."

"I will." He frowned guiltily. "I'm going to tell you."

She waited. He didn't say anything else. "When?"

"Later. That's why I brought you, to tell you . . . new stories."

She evaluated his pleading eyes, imploring her to let it go, just for now. And she was ridiculously flippant when it came to anything Jacob wanted – especially when he used those eyes. "Fine. But, Jacob, you have to promise to tell me."

"I will."

"Promise?"

He smiled a little then, and placed his hand on his chest. "Cross my heart."

"And hope to die?"

"Stick a needle in my eye." His face was so sincere, she burst into laughter right there.

"Excited, Ness?" Quil asked her, across the fire.

"Yeah," she told him, although she was beginning to wonder what exactly it was she was supposed to be excited for.

Clare sat on his lap, full of energy and laughter. "Nessie," she said immediately upon her arrival. "Nessie! Nessie! I'm ten next week. Did you know?"

"I did." She sat down, in between Quil and Embry.

"Ness, I'll be back in two secs," Jacob told her, and he headed back down the sand, to his father and Old Quil.

Renesmee turned back to Clare and smiled. She recalled when they used to be friends, she and Clare. It had been years ago, when Nessie was only one, but she remembered well the excitement when Jacob had brought a friend for her to play with. A friend who was her age.

She outgrew Clare in months, though, both physically and mentally. Their friendship didn't get to last that long.

"Are you going to have a party?" she asked, and the child's eyes lit up.

"A huge party. Mommy's getting a bouncing castle and everything. Isn't she, Quil?"

Quil grinned exceptionally wide. "She sure is. It's not every day you turn ten, you know."

Jacob trooped back up the sand and joined them. "Sorry, guys." There was no space left on the logs, and Nessie was about the squash up for him when he sank into the sand. He leaned in against her knees, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered with the wings of eagles.

So they sat in a circle on logs, around the open fire, next to Jacob's friends who had really come to be her friends, too, over the years. And they told stories and jokes and recounted memories that Nessie was sure happened long before she was born. Other than a few teasing complaints—mostly from Jared—about keeping the bloodsucker stench downwind, the evening was turning out to be wonderful.

It didn't take long before mountains of food were presented. Gigantic bowls filled with week's worth of food were passed around the circle. Jacob knew exactly how she liked her hotdogs toasted, so she let him do it for her.

Renesmee was starting her second hotdog when she noticed how empty it was getting around her. "Where's everyone gone?" she asked Jacob, who was now sitting beside her.

"They're around," he answered. "They'll be back later, I'm sure. This part is kind of invite-only."

"Oh?" She looked around her. Sam was at the top of the circle now, Emily at his side. Then, taking her eyes around those remaining, there was Quil and Clare, Jared and Kim, Brady and Hazel, Paul and Rachel, and she and Jacob. It finished with Jacob, she noticed. The circle started with Sam and ended with Jake.

He was head of the circle, too. He and Sam.

A strange spark of pride flared through her. But then she noticed something else. Everyone was in twos. And most of the twos were married. She saw Quil and Clare across from her, though, and she relaxed.

"What's happening?" she asked, but Jacob didn't answer. Instead, he quietly, modestly, handed her a small leather bag.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Open it."

She smiled, took the pouch from him and let it sit in the centre of her palm. She considered the material and the ribbon and its weight and shape before she decided to slide it open. She tipped out the contents, and into her hand fell a small, wooden charm. It was the shape of a moon and sun, the former shadowing the latter, but they were cut in half.

"Jake," she whispered. Nessie had seen enough of Jacob's work to recognise this as his own. "Jake, it's so beautiful."

"Did you bring the necklace?" he asked, and Nessie nodded and fished the Quileute-woven choker from her pocket. He'd given her that for her second birthday, a mesh of coloured string laced together. Taking it, he slid the charm onto the string and handed it back to her.

The wooden moon and sun sat perfectly on the thread, and the thread fit perfectly in her hands.

"Thank you." She had never been so earnest in her life. "Will you tie it?" Jacob smiled in that awkward-but-bashful way that he does and nodded. She handed it back to him turned around on the log.

Every molecule of her body felt Jacob's searing finger tips at her neck as he brushed aside her hair. He fastened it quickly and there was a moment of hesitation in his hands. They rested there, on her shoulders, for a second. And then they were gone. When she turned back around, they were sitting by his sides.

"Thank you," she said again.

"My pleasure," he whispered. Half a heartbeat later, he added nervously: "This is so corny, but I have the other half." He reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a plain black thread. Hanging from it was half a moon and sun. He leaned forward and held his to hers, and she swore her heart stopped beating when they connected to form a whole.

Renesmee didn't know what to say to him. Are there really words for such a thing?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel, Jacob's sister, and she had a necklace, too. Hers was a fish, mid leap, and was also in half. Paul had the other half, hanging proudly from his neck. She realised everyone still sitting in the circle had a necklace, and each was a half and their partner had the whole.

It was beautiful and symbolic and her heart swelled to twice its normal size.

Everyone had a partner.

Jacob had chosen her to be his.

She didn't care what his reasons were: friendship, or otherwise. She just cared that he loved her enough to choose her. When she looked back to him, she knew her eyes were betraying her emotions, but she didn't mind.

"I had to wait until now to give it to you," he told her, "because it's like a tradition. All the guys in the pack do it." It was beginning to grow quiet around them, and he quickly added: "We're doing a blessing. Some old Quileute tribal thing our ancestors did."

There was silence.

Everyone was waiting to begin.

She looked at Sam. But Sam was looking at Jacob. Everyone was looking at Jacob. And then it hit her: Jacob was head of the pack, leader of the tribe. So she looked at Jacob, too.

And Jacob was looking at her.

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COMING UP . . .

"The story of our origin is equal to only one other story," Old Quil said, and his voice held a different kind of power than Billy's. It was strong and enticing, yes, but it was also mysterious and enigmatic. "Only one other story holds equal importance. Only one other has held as strongly thought the generations."

Old Quil paused and looked up—

—straight at Renesmee—

And for some reason, her breath caught in her throat.

"And that is the story of the Third Wife."