Dear Diary,

It is really quite impossible to explain the intensity of the terror I felt at that moment. Had it been just one fear that was riding me, perhaps I could have overcome it, behaving in a more rational manner—but it wasn't just one thing. I was stuck in total, inky blackness, deep inside the earth—separated from my group with no way to find them. I'd just seen my first ghost—a ghost that was able to somehow touch me, as impossible as that seemed. Those things were terrifying enough on their own, but together? They blotted out any ability to think in a logical, reasonable manner, leaving me a mindless, babbling creature—one with no way to escape the predicament I was in. To make matters even worse… I was mere inches from an odorous, decapitated corpse—one that I'd been touching with my bare hands.

I scrambled backwards, still screaming—putting as much space between myself and the body as I could. I didn't stop until my back smacked into the rough stone wall of the tunnel—but still… it wasn't far enough. The smell was choking me—it seemed like it was a million times worse now that I knew the source wasn't some animal, but rather, a person, like me. My mind was more than a little broken, demanding I huddle up in a ball, making myself as small a target as possible the way I'd often done when my father was in a rage, but I couldn't allow myself to give in to the urge—not until I put more distance between myself and the thing that I'd discovered.

Forcing myself to move, I sidled along the wall, keeping my fingers pressed firmly against it. It was a vain attempt to avoid becoming disoriented by the blackness; I could almost feel the darkness pressing against me—an ever increasing weight that was crushing in its severity. I bit down on my lip—hard—to stop myself from screaming, trying desperately to still my racing mind enough to focus on one thing—finding my way out of the tunnel and away from the nightmarish body that lay behind me. Mentally praying that I was heading towards the opening of the passageway and not deeper into the labyrinth, I kept moving, ignoring the tiny whimpers that escaped me from time to time.

Abruptly, without warning, the wall disappeared from beneath my fingertips; it immediately increased my panic—almost to the point of no return. I froze, scared to move—trying to fight back a wave of terror so strong that it made it hard for me to breathe. It took me a few minutes to calm down enough to realize the obvious—I'd simply reacted the junction between the tunnels. I took a small step back, then another; when my fingers brushed against the rock again I winced as a sharp wave of pain raced up my arm. My fingertips were scraped up and abraded from being trailed along the wall—something I hadn't noticed until my panic slowly began to recede.

Sinking down, I pressed my back against the wall, wrapping my arms around my legs—focusing on my breathing in an attempt to keep my mind from dwelling on the mess I'd gotten myself in. I was finally starting to calm down when I felt the air around me move—the invisible fingers brushed against my cheek again. I flinched, burying my face in the cradle of my arms—hiding it away as a hoarse moan escaped me. I wanted to beg the specter to stop touching me, but my distress made speech completely impossible.

It didn't stop.

The unseen fingers continued to torment me; they trailed along my arms and ruffled my hair—tugging it quite painfully when I failed to respond to the gentler gestures. I curled up even more, into a tight ball on the floor of the cave, tears streaming down my cheeks as I silently prayed for it to stop. My initial assessment of the cave's mouth had been right; it was hell—my own personal version of it.

My resolve to ignore the ghost finally broke; I started screaming again—curses in my native tongue spewed from my lips, eventually giving way to wordless, frustrated shrieks as it continued to pester me. I struck out, trying to swat it like a fly, but there was nothing solid for my hand to connect with—which didn't seem fair in the slightest, since it appeared to have no problem whatsoever when it came to touching me.

That's how Emil found me—curled in a ball, growling and hoarsely cursing as I swatted out at the air around me. I'm sure I must have looked quite insane—and given my mental state at the time, the assessment was pretty accurate. I have no idea how long it took him to track me down—it felt like days had passed, though it was probably no more than an hour, at most. I was so intent on what I was doing, that I didn't notice him—not until he touched my shoulder. I flinched, instinctively scrabbling sideways; for a moment, I was unable to process who it was—I thought perhaps the ghost had somehow taken physical form to better torture me.

"Miss Belikova… Viktoria…." He crouched down, peering at me, his voice full of concern; I winced—the light from his flashlight seemed as bright as the midday sun to me after having been in complete darkness for so long.

"It's alright Viktoria… I won't hurt you," he crooned softly, setting his flashlight down and rolling it towards me. "There… take it—I have another."

I stared at the flashlight for a moment, my eyes flicking in his direction as I hesitantly reached out and grabbed it—immediately, I jerked my arm back, lest he try and touch me again.

"Good girl… you see? I'm here to help you. Are you ready to go back to the others now? I'm sure your grandmother is very worried."

I shook my head, pointing to the tunnel beside me; he cursed, his hand snaking out to latch on to my wrist. "What in God's name did you do to yourself, girl?"

Now that there was light and I could see my fingers, I understood the pain I'd felt; the tips were badly lacerated from my trailing them along the jagged wall. They were oozing, and there were crusty patches of dried blood where it had run along the length of my fingers. "I had to keep contact with the wall," I whispered hoarsely. "I didn't want to get lost in the dark."

He pulled out a handkerchief, wrapping it around my fingers, then shrugged off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders. "What happened to your flashlight?"

"I lost it…. I fell… and… there's a body down there. One… without a head."

He stared at me, probably trying to gage whether or not to believe me—weighing the state of my mind. "That's impossible, Viktoria—we came back for the dead. They were all accounted for except Dimitri and—" He broke off abruptly, getting to his feet. "I want you to stay right here—"

"Don't leave me—" it came out a broken sounding whisper, but I did not care about foolish pride or seeming weak. I didn't want to be left alone again, not even for a minute. "—please!"

"I am only going to investigate this body—I promise I'll come right back."

I stared up at him, chewing on my lip—weighing the two options before me. I didn't want to see the body again—but my fear of being stranded alone with the devilish ghost outweighed everything else. I got to my feet, grimacing as pins and needles shot up and down my trembling legs. "I'm coming with you."

"I will only be a moment, there's no need for you to—"

"There is every need," I said, my voice regaining a bit of strength. "You don't know what I've been through in here. I think if you leave me alone… I will completely lose my mind—now let's get this over with so I can get the hell out of this horrible cave!"

He narrowed his eyes, his expression guarded. "This is more than just a fear of being alone in the dark… isn't it? Why did you run off, Viktoria? What—"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." My voice was flat—discouraging further questions; he ignored the warning tone.

"I don't disbelieve much, little seer—try me."

"Don't call me that," I snapped, hating the reminder of my accursed gift. "I saw a fucking ghost—and it has been tormenting me ever since!"

His expression shifted—a look that was almost…hopeful… lighting up his face. "Was it one of us? A guardian?" He grabbed my arm, his grip so tight that it was on the verge of being painful. "A man—a few years older than me with dark hair and a small beard?"

I shook my head. "It was a girl… from her build… I think she was a Moroi—she was very beautiful, with long, wavy hair and a small birthmark on her cheek."

His shoulders sagged; he released my arm, averting his face—but not before I saw the flicker of disappointment that shot through his eyes. "That description… it perfectly suits a student we lost that night."

I hesitated for a moment—his distress was plain to see, and I didn't want to push him. "Who was he—the man you wanted me to see?"

"My cousin. He died here—back beside the collapsed wall." He kept his face turned away, but his voice betrayed what he was feeling. "I should have been here… watching his back, but I was stationed at the back entrance with the novices."

"Had you been beside him, you might have met the same fate. Do you think that's what he would have wanted? Do you think he would want you to harbor this guilt?"

"No—he'd tell me to stop being a sentimental fool and get to work." He took a deep breath, swiping his hand over his face. "And he would be right. Come on—stick close to me, and no running off again."

"Trust me—I wasn't planning on it," I muttered, reaching over and taking hold of the back of his shirt.

I kept my eyes trained on the ground as we moved, looking neither right or left—afraid of what I might see. As we rounded the bend, Emil murmured something in a language I did not understand, crossing himself respectfully as he swept the beam of his flashlight around the tunnel.

"There's no blood… this isn't the spot where they killed her." He sighed. "I have to get closer… do you want to wait here or—"

"I already got close to it once—it won't kill me to do it again." I shuddered, releasing my grip on him to wipe my hand on my pants. I could still subconsciously feel the disturbing way the flesh of the corpse had moved against my fingertips—it had been pliant and almost… mushy.

He moved closer, stooping down to examine the gaping stump where the head should have been; I could see the dull gleam of white bone of the spine protruding from the wound. "I'm sorry, Viktoria… we have to go further in. I need to find… well… I have to be sure of something."

"The head—you can say it. You want to find the head."

"Yes. If you want to go back and wait—"

"No."

We passed my broken flashlight—Emil scooped it up as we passed, sliding it into the small transport pack that was slung over his arm. A few feet further in, the tunnel started to narrow; when we could no longer walk side by side, he held up his hand, indicating he would lead.

I immediately fell back, raising my light above my head and shining it in front of him to help light his way as he moved around another curve—this one so close that he had to move sideways, his back and chest brushing the stone walls. "You don't think there are still Strigoi here after all this time?"

"Better to be safe than so—" His voice cut off abruptly as he disappeared from my view; a moment later, his voice beckoned me to follow. "It's all clear—opens into a chamber. I was right—it's Molly."

I scooted around the corner, grimacing as the rocks pressed painfully against my chest; thankfully the claustrophobic nearness of them lasted for less than a minute, then I was in another large open area that was nearly identical to the one I'd found the map and photos in. The only real difference was this one had a natural shelf of rock running along the back wall at shoulder height—that's where the head was located. It was sitting on the ledge, long hair streaming down over the chunk of rock it rested on—and whoever had staged the gruesome scene had left a message as well. On the wall below the gruesome tableau, a single sentence was written in Cyrillic; judging by the look of the dark brown substance, it was a safe bet it had been written in blood.

"She was a senior—one of the students we were attempting to rescue. When we couldn't locate her body we assumed she'd been turned."

"Emil… I think she was," I said, running my eyes over the sentence again. "Why else would they remove her head? Or… perhaps I should say one of them turned her and the others—or their leader—didn't approve." I moved closer, sweeping my light along the wall. "Did you read it?"

"My Russian is a little rusty," he admitted. "Translate?"

"It says… 'only the strongest receive the gift'. As I read the phrase to him, the buzz of adrenaline racing through me dispelled the last of the shock and fear I'd been feeling—enabling me to actually contemplate the meaning of the strange words.

"That makes no sense—all Strigoi have strength." He shrugged the bag off his shoulder; kneeling down, he began digging through it.

His words pushed a button, sliding everything into place. "True… but think about it—if a person is already strong… already a warrior that knows how to fight, then they have an added advantage. Compare someone with brute strength to someone with that same strength and the knowledge how to best use it to their advantage."

He stopped pawing through his bag, his eyes flicking up to my face. "What are you getting at?"

"Guardian Petrov and I were talking earlier… about how fewer novices were enrolling. I pointed out that Strigoi attacks on the settlements were wiping out the number of available young people who might enroll. We thought that's what the attack here was… an attempt to wipe out future guardians… but I think we were only partially right." I pulled the map and paperback out of my pocket passing them over to him.

He made a face at the book's cover. "I don't see—"

"Look inside—there are pictures. Guardian Alto told me that he thought it was safe to get the novices out that day because Alberta and Dimitri could cover the others and get them all out safely. He said they were two of the best guardians on the staff—I think the Strigoi had the same thought… only it wasn't just my brother and Petrov they were watching for."

He flipped the book open, pulling out the photographs—his eyes immediately widening as he leafed through them. " So you think… they were what? Trying to kill us specifically to make it easier on themselves?"

"No…" I pointed to the wall. "Only the strongest receive the gift isn't a message to the guardians, Emil—it was to prove a point to whoever it was in their ranks that turned that poor girl. Don't you see? They didn't want any Moroi turned—they only wanted the strongest. I think they planned on making the best warriors at Saint Vladimir Strigoi—the fact they would get to drain the Moroi on campus was just an added benefit to the mission."

"My God…" He sank back, sitting flat on the floor, as if his legs wouldn't hold him—staring at me with an absolutely incredulous expression on his face. "You think they got Luzhkov, don't you? I thought he'd just gone off—he did that from time to time. He'd get word that Karp had been spotted and would take off, trying to find her for Mikhail—"

"Who?"

"Sonya Karp—she used to teach here. Luzhkov guarded her when they locked her up… I think he felt responsible for what she became."

I shook my head, confused. "I don't know about any of that—but Petrov said he's been missing since the battle, so it makes sense. They had his picture… he was a target—and now he's gone." I chewed at my lip, staring at the words on the wall. "I wonder… does anyone keep track of how many guardians are missing in action or who have disappeared without warning? If any of the ones who went missing around the time of the attack were highly ranked… it would support my theory."

"I doubt it—as a matter of fact, we're discouraged from discussing the ones that leave service—the council doesn't want it to become a trend. More and more are walking away, tired of the intolerance or—"

"But what if they're not walking away? What if it just looks like they are?"

"I don't know, Viktoria—I only know of one for certain and I can tell you Joseph didn't go MIA or just disappear. He resigned to get married to another guardian."

"Who's Joseph?" Having names that I didn't know thrown at me was incredibly frustrating, but I managed to keep from snapping at him.

"He was a guardian for two of our students—Abby and Xander Badica. While they were on campus, he served on the staff roster—that's how he met Fiona. She was a guardian on the lower campus."

I narrowed my eyes. Almost a year ago—a few months before Roza came into our lives—Saint Basil's had been abuzz with the news of Arthur Schoenberg's death. He'd been guarding Badica's. "How closely are they related to the Badica's Schoenberg was guarding?"

"Gregory Badica was their uncle. Abby and Xander were lucky—if the attack had happened a week later, they'd have been visiting him for Christmas."

"Yes… very lucky…" I murmured, turning to stare at the writing on the wall. "Emil… how good a Guardian would you say this Joseph was?"

"He was extremely good—that's why it was such a shock when he resigned."

"Mhmmm… I don't suppose you've spoken to him since he left?"

"No, I haven't. He's supposed to send me an invitation to the wedding, but it must have been—" his voice trailed off abruptly. I glanced over to find him staring at me.

"What?"

"They wanted a Christmas wedding… I assumed it was postponed because of the attack on the Badica family."

I nodded. "I would assume that since he guarded Gregory Badica's nephew and niece… he would know the schedule of the patrols and such at the family's residence?"

"Yes… but Viktoria—it makes no sense. If they wanted the strongest they'd have taken Arthur too."

"Perhaps they tried—but he wasn't a young man," I pointed out. "His heart could have given out before they completed the process." He looked like he was about to protest; I spoke quickly, cutting him off. "I am not saying your friend voluntarily turned, Emil—but if a group of Strigoi were intent on collecting the best… an excellent guardian out among the humans would be easy pickings, don't you think? Especially if he was connected to the family Arthur was guarding."

"Abby was one of the students they captured that night… we could find out where she is and ask if she recognized any of the Strigoi," he mused, his brow furrowing.

"How soon was the attack on the Badica family after he left the Academy?"

"He left in early October… so a little more than two months."

"Plenty of time for them to grab him—was his fiancée as good as he was?"

"No… not particularly. That's why we assigned her to the elementary campus—she worked with the eight and nine year olds. We don't seriously start training novices here until they are twelve—for all intents and purposes… she was little more than a baby sitter."

I tried not to let my surprise show; at Saint Basil's, our training started the moment we walked through the gates. It was less stringent than what we would face as we grew older, but even the five and six year olds were expected to participate in a daily exercise regime and basic martial arts training in several different styles.

"Oh my God…" he murmured, an expression of horror flicking across his face. "I just remembered… Joseph's brother was a guardian for the Drozdovs … and so was Arthur's son. Both of them were highly ranked. The attack happened at a banquet the family was having—Joseph could have known the location… he was extremely close to his brother."

"Are either of them missing?" I started pacing, unable to stand still.

"No… their bodies were at the scene—the missing were all Moroi."

I frowned—that didn't work with my theory at all. "It could have just been a regular attack—"

"Or they might have tried to turn them and Simon and Vince fought so much the Strigoi decided it wasn't worth the effort." He scrubbed his face with his palms, taking a shaky sounding breath.

"Joseph also would have known the weak points in the security here," I pointed out quietly. "He would know the staffs weaknesses and strengths in a fight from sparring with you all—and he would have inside knowledge of the way the campus was laid out."

"She's right—the question is… what are we going to do about it?"

The disembodied voice came from the blackness behind us, startling me so much that I shrieked as I spun around towards the tunnel; Emil immediately winced, clapping his hands over his ears as the piercing sound echoed back, bouncing off the stone walls that surrounded us.

"Jesus Belikova—calm down."

My fright immediately vanished as I processed who the familiar, sarcastic tone belonged to. Alto appeared, the beam of his flashlight catching me right in the eye. I hissed in pain as my pupils reacted to the brightness—he'd intentionally screwed up my vision. "I repeat… what are we going to do about it?"

"What do you think? Turn it over to the council—"

"Wrong move. Right now we have a distinct advantage—whoever is behind the attacks has no idea we've figured out what's happening. Once you tell people… the news will spread."

"You can't possibly think someone on the council—"

"In a situation like this, it pays to be suspicious of everyone, Belikova. Not to mention the fact that if word of this gets out… it will make people panic. Not just the Moroi—the guardians too. We're not accustomed to being the targets of attacks—do you really want to be responsible for starting a shit storm like this? I guarantee you that something like this.. fear of being made a monster… it will make a lot of guardians decide it's safer to get out of the line of fire. Not the ones that are actually in danger, mind you—they wouldn't abandon their duty—but the ones that think they're the best when they're actually just mediocre? They'll bolt without a second thought."

He bent down, retrieving the map Emil had set aside—frowning as he examined it. A minute or two ticked by before he moved closer to us, crouching down beside Emil and beckoning me over. I watched as he traced his finger along the area between the red marks on the paper in his hands. "The fact they came in along this sector always bothered me—but I couldn't figure out why. Now I know—it meant they knew which areas we couldn't man on a regular basis because we were short staffed. That's information only an insider would have."

"As much as I'd like to add that to out proof… we can't." I gestured to the pictures. "They obviously had people watching the campus on a regular basis—those people could have easily made note of the areas you don't patrol."

"No—it's not a fixed rotation," Emil said, shaking his head. "We don't patrol the same areas at a set time—each morning Alberta posts the schedule of where our shifts will be for that day, and she changes it up every time she posts it. Some days we might patrol the same area at the same time we did the day before, then the next day that area is patrolled an hour later—it's always different."

That made no sense to me—maybe because I was still a little shaken by Alto's sudden appearance. "Why? That seems like an awfully big waste of time on her part—"

"Use your brain—when the patrol rotations and times are always fluctuating, it prevents outsiders from knowing what area will be unguarded at any given time or how long they'll be unmanned. You should know this—"

"Well I don't! In case it has escaped your notice, let me stare the obvious—I'm not a guardian!" I said, my voice hot with anger. "I am getting fed up with your attempts to make me feel ignorant every time I ask a question—perhaps the reason Saint Basil's turns out the best guardians is because they encourage the students to have an inquisitive nature instead of stomping on it the way you do!"

Alto looked taken aback—as if I were out of line. "I wasn't doing that—"

"You were! Whenever I ask a question you demean me—and I don't appreciate it. How am I supposed to learn if I don't ask things?"

"Are you quite finished?"

I glared at him. "Yes—to say anything more would be a waste of breath since it falls on deaf ears!"

"Belikova… maybe if you'd get rid of that chip on your shoulder you would realize that you should have taken my outrage as a compliment instead of getting pissed off… since I actually forgot you weren't a guardian."

My mouth dropped open as I stared at him—that was the last thing I expected to hear.

"I tend to forget as well. When you were in my classes, you carried yourself like a guardian." Emil shrugged, glancing over at Alto. "I think it has to do with the fact she attends Saint Basil's. I went there too—the program is very, very rigorous. The novices are more likely to handle themselves in a professional way for fear of being severely reprimanded and punished."

I shook my head, positive I must be hallucinating. I'd buckled down a lot since Dimitri's restoration and I'd matured quite a bit too—I was much more serious and less likely to be flighty—but it was hard for me to process that I had changed so much. Hearing the two men in front of me say that they saw me as something of an equal when my instructors back home still treated me like a problem child… it completely blew my mind. "I… don't know what to say—"

"Well that's a damned miracle—I was beginning to think it was impossible to shut you up," Alto muttered.

Emil groaned. "You see? That is your problem, Stan. When you say things like that… it undermines anything positive that precedes it."

The other guardian gave him a blank look. "Like what? It was an honest observation—"

"Never mind—I think you took one too many blows to the head in training. It damaged the part of your brain responsible for social skills." Emil smiled to take the sting out of his words as he began digging through his bag again. "Do you have a line on you?"

"Yes, but it won't be long enough."

"I'm aware of that, but if we connect it to mine, it should be more than adequate." Emil produced a coiled loop of cording and what looked to be some sort of metal clasp.

I watched as he attached the two items together with an intricate knot, fascinated by the deft movement of his long fingers. "What are you doing?"

"This," he said, pointing to the metal clasp," Is a carabiner. See the way it fastens? It won't come loose from the static rope. I'll attach Stan's to the other end, and it will double the length."

I frowned. "I thought it was cord—like the kind my nephew uses to practice tying knots."

He laughed. "No, this is a whole lot tougher than cord—it's polyester filaments over a nylon core. It's what climbers use—not indestructible, but strong enough to go around rock corners and bends without fraying or snapping."

"And you are doing this because?" I shot Alto a dirty look as he snorted at my question.

"We have to be able to find our way back to the body, Viktoria," Emil explained patiently, ignoring his coworker entirely. "One of us will stay here while the other leads you back to Alberta, waiting at the opening with the other end of the line. Once Alberta gets your group outside, she can call for backup to transport the body. If we had something to wrap it we could do it ourselves, but—"

"Would a tarp work? I have one in my bag you can use." I blushed at the look of astonishment on his face. "I didn't know what we would need… so I just grabbed things that seemed useful."

"Why… a tarp?"

"Guardian Petrov kept talking about how difficult it would be for Yeva to make the trip… I thought that if she had trouble or her legs started bothering her, it would be easier to transport her on a tarp than trying to carry her. Two people on each side… you know? Distributing the weight evenly."

"Dare I ask where you…obtained… these things that you grabbed?"

I didn't answer.

"She broke into the store room—though I haven't figured out how she did it," Alto offered, eyeing me.

"I did not break in," I said loudly, glaring at him.

"Viktoria…" Emil's voice was soft—perhaps an attempt to get me to lower mine. "How did you get in? We need to know to make sure the novices can't do the same thing."

I stared at him for a moment, debating whether or not I should be truthful. "I dropped down from above—I climbed up into the ceiling in the room beside it and crawled across."

His lips twitched at the corners. "Alto… remind me to tell Alberta we need to make sure that the doors in that hallway are kept locked at all times."

"She'd have probably just tried to break down the door," Alto muttered, pulling off the small sack he had on his shoulder and tossing it to Emil.

"Don't be ridiculous—" I scoffed at the suggestion "—those doors are solid wood. I would have much better luck kicking through the plaster beside the doorframe."

"Would you two please stop—you are giving me a headache." Emil pulled out another loop of rope, quickly attaching it to the first one. "If I stay here… can I trust the two of you not to kill each other on the way back?"

"I still don't understand why we can't all go—"

"If the line came loose we might have a hard time finding our way back." Alto said. "I'll stay—you move faster than I do."

"Fine—I'll be back with the tarp as quick as I can. It's too bad we don't have a camera to document the scene, but it can't be helped. Poor Molly has been here far too long as it is—she deserves a proper burial as soon as possible."

He stood, offering one end of the rope to Alto; as he moved, I felt the air shift—but not in the direction he was moving. It was on my other side—fainter than it had been back at the tunnels juncture, but still noticeable, at least to me. I tensed, waiting for another pinch, but it didn't come—instead, invisible fingers gently stroked my cheek. When it happened a second time, I bit the inside of my cheek, slowly turning my head to glance in that direction; my eyes widened—the ghost was standing right beside me. She reached out, her translucent hand cupping my cheek as she gazed at me; I was frozen in place—trying not to move a muscle—then I realized the heartbreaking sorrow had vanished from her face.

She was… smiling. A beautiful, serene smile that was almost angelic—and suddenly… everything was clear to me. She hadn't meant to torment me at all—she just wanted to be at peace, and she couldn't rest… not until her body was discovered. Even as I thought it, she grew fainter before my eyes; the pressure in the air grew heavy—so heavy my ears popped.

Then she was just… gone.

"Viktoria?" Emil grabbed my elbow, snapping me out of my daze. "Are you all right?"

"Yes… sorry. I guess I spaced out for a minute." I shot him a weak smile, my eyes flicking back to the spot where Molly had been.

"Are you sure? You went pale—for a moment I thought you might faint."

"Positive—it's been a really long day and I've got a lot on my mind."

"Well that's certainly understandable." He didn't look like he bought my excuse, but he didn't press me either—which I appreciated.

I followed after him as he moved to the opening, watching shimmy into it; hesitating for a moment, I glanced over at Alto—he was leaning against the wall, his eyes averted from Molly's head. "Guardian Alto… you may be a jerk most the time… but the way you volunteered to stay behind… it was very admirable—and brave." His head jerked up, eyes full of surprise—I turned sideways, slipping into the opening before he could summon up a mean spirited response to my statement.

Emil was waiting for me where the tunnel widened, unfurling a bit of the line from the loop he'd made around his arm "Stick close, and try not to get tangled up in the rope if you can avoid it.."

I nodded, walking beside him—though I fell back when we finally neared Molly's body; I didn't want to step over her—to do so seemed disrespectful beyond belief. Emil stopped, gazing down at her with a sad expression on his face. I watched in silence as he bowed his head, his lips moving in a silent prayer, thinking about how hard it must be for the two guardians to see what had become of the lovely young girl. In all likelihood, they'd probably known her since she was a child; they'd watched her grow up at the Academy—so in a way, it was like losing a member of their family.

When he began moving again, I hurried to catch up—laying my hand on his arm to get his attention. "Emil… you should know… she's gone now."

His brow wrinkled. "What—"

"Her ghost… she's completely gone. It feels different—I can't really explain it…but now that she knows her body won't be stuck here forever… she is at peace." I struggled to find the words I needed—unsure of how to explain a feeling that I couldn't understand. "She was smiling when she vanished…the sorrow was gone."

He didn't look over at me, but I could see some of the tension ease out of his face. "Thank you. I appreciate your sharing that… I know you don't like talking about your gift."

I simply smiled, falling silent; for a time, the only sound was that of our footfalls against the floor as we moved through the dark tunnels, making our way back to the others.

"Viktoria…"

The sound of his voice breaking the silence startled me; I jerked—he chuckled softly at my reaction. "Yes sir?"

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to say that Dimitri would be very proud of the way you managed to piece everything together back there. After everything that happened to you… for you to be able to logically grasp so much that we've overlooked… it is really quite remarkable."

I smiled, pleased at the thought of making my brother proud. "You know… it's funny… but I have always hated mysteries. My sisters love them, and my nephew, he does too—he's always begging his mother to buy him those books where they give you a clue and you have to turn to this page then that one to figure it out. He's always trying to get me to read them with him… but they drive me up the wall. So it's really quite strange that I can even think my way through something like that without getting frustrated—especially since lately, every time I turn around there is a problem I have to figure out with only the barest lead to follow."

"You have a natural aptitude for it—you shouldn't waste it." He glanced over at me, studying me intently; it made me feel self-conscious—I ducked my head down, hiding my face from his view. "May I ask you something personal?"

"I suppose… though I might not answer."

"Have you considered becoming an instructor when you graduate?"

I sighed. "Guardian Petrov asked me the same thing."

"I thought she might—we had a discussion about her making you an offer today while we ate lunch. It would be nice to have another Belikov on the staff… and you are very good with the students. I told Alberta how well they responded to you."

"Because I am a novelty—they are simply interested in what I have to say because I am a visiting novice from a different school."

"No… it's more than that. You draw them in instead of just throwing facts and statistics at them. You make learning enjoyable, rather than tedious and boring." He glanced over at me, smiling. "I try to do the same thing, but they see me as an old man—"

"You're not old. Far from it." My response was automatic.

"I am to them. I am sure you feel the same way about your instructors from time to time—sitting in class, frustrated with how dull it is… you wonder if they've forgotten what it was like to be young and full of yearning for fun."

I thought about it. "You're right—that does happen… but none of my instructors employee the techniques I've seen you use. If they did, I might be more inclined to make more of an effort."

"That is precisely my point. We need teachers who engage, not ones who simply preach at the students."

"I can't do it. The women in Baia do not serve in any form—the only one who has is my grandmother… and she has very strong beliefs in the proper way things should be done."

"What do you mean?" I could hear the confusion in his voice; it made me sigh. I was getting tired of trying to explain myself to people who could not possibly understand the complexities of Yeva's mind.

"She doesn't agree with the current system. She believes that guardians should serve the way they used to… in the old days." I frowned, shaking my head—unsure if I could find the words to clarify what I meant. "Like Roza and the queen—they have a mutual respect for each other. A familial love that supersedes class or rank. Even without the bond of shadows between them, there is a connection there that can never be broken—that is the way it should be… not just blind servitude because one is dhampir and the other Moroi."

"She's right…unfortunately, I don't see things changing anytime soon. I have heard that Vasilisa Dragomir is trying to push the Council on several dhampir issues…but change like that… it takes time. It probably won't happen during my lifetime or yours."

I glanced over at him, frowning. His tone troubled me—it was blunt and matter of fact; he just accepted that his fate would be decided by the Royal Council without question—and that wasn't right. We weren't their property—we were living, breathing people, not livestock. "You do realize that if enough guardians joined together in a show of support for Lissa's proposals… it could make the difference between success and failure. If the Council actually saw such a thing with their own eyes—that we refuse to allow them to treat us as second class citizens—it might make them recognize the fact that their stubborn insistence in treating us as lesser beings has to change."

"Yes, but at what cost, Viktoria? To convince them… really convince them of something like that… to make them admit that we deserve the same rights they have… it would take more than just showing up at a few council sessions. The threat of our walking away from service isn't worth anything unless we're willing to back it up with action—and if we do that… it will end up costing Moroi lives. If the guardians went on strike, Strigoi would hear about it. You don't think they would take advantage of the situation—attacking when the Moroi were at their most vulnerable? Especially in light of what we learned today…"

Silence fell between us as I mulled over his statement. I couldn't deny the truth—it was far too easy to imagine the carnage that would result if the Strigoi population learned that the Moroi were unprotected. In an eerie way, it echoed what Alberta and I had discussed about the attacks on dhampir communes. "You are right… but you have to take into account that it's already happening to our people. We are so focused on protecting the Moroi that our hands are tied when it comes to defending our own."

"I wish there was an easy fix… but there isn't. I wish we could successfully do both things, but there aren't enough of us to go around. The guardian pool is already spread so thin that we don't have enough resources to protect everyone."

It was a no win situation—and an extremely depressing one. It also made me feel enormously guilty for not going into service. I'd spent my whole life learning to protect others, but my skills would just go to waste—the only use I would have for them would be if I helped Paul with his training or in the unlikely case that Strigoi ever attacked our home.

Emil glanced over at me, his brow wrinkling with concern; it made me wonder if he could somehow tell the dark path my thoughts had taken. "Is it safe to assume that if you found a charge you connected with…your grandmother wouldn't object to your serving?"

"I suppose." I wasn't really paying attention; my thoughts were churning, racing over the problem we'd discussed as well as the part I would play in them by not pulling my weight and doing my duty by accepting a charge.

"Then I think you are failing to see what is right in front of you. You'll definitely be going into service."

"Mhmmm." My response was automatic—then what he said hit home. "Wait… what did you say? Why would you think that?"

"Oh I don't know… call it a hunch. I may not have your gift, but I sense things from time to time." He chuckled, amused by my confusion—his mouth curving up in the barest hint of a smile. "Or maybe it's because of the way your Moroi Lord took off after you without thought when you were chasing Molly's ghost. That's why Stan didn't catch you—he had to give up pursuit to drag Ivashkov out of the tunnel."

I was suddenly extremely glad that we were surrounded by darkness—it helped to hide the hot flush of color that was creeping across my cheeks. "Perhaps he just didn't want to be left behind, all alone."

"Maybe… but judging by the way he was cursing Alto and trying to pull rank, my bet is that he was motivated by something else entirely. You forget… I saw the two of you after your visit to Luzhkov's cabin."

The light , teasing lilt in his voice made me blush even more; I fumbled for something to say—desperate to change the subject to something less embarrassing. "You do not seem surprised to learn that he and Johnson are one in the same…"

"Not many guardians can afford to smoke Djarum blacks, Viktoria. When he was here before, I was constantly picking up the cigarette butts he left strewn around the campus. You should really speak to him about that—littering is a disgusting habit." He smiled as he stopped walking, taking a moment to feed out more of the coiled line. "Besides… a disguise can only hide so much—even one made out of spirit. Everyone has little quirks that they do without consciously being aware of it—little tells betray them."

I frowned. If Emil could see the truth behind Guardian Johnson's mask, then Dimitri was sure to be able to do the same. My brother's observational skills were better than anyone I'd ever met. "What gave it away?"

"I suspected there was something up when we were in the car on the way to guest housing. I heard what was discussed before you got in the car—he told Alberta that he'd never been to Saint Vlad's. Yet… somehow… he knew the name of our staff physician."

"Petrov said it first—"

"No she didn't. She said the campus doctor—she didn't use Izolda's last name."

"Well… damn." I sighed. I hadn't even caught the slip—of course, my head had felt like a vice was crushing it at the time, so at least I had a good excuse. "I guess he is as horrible at being sneaky as I am."

He laughed at my grim expression. "Then you are well matched—neither of you will ever be able to fool the other."

"You don't understand—if you were able to figure it out… my brother will too."

"Dimitri is a sensible man… and deep down, I suspect he is rather sentimental as well. He'll soon enough realize he is fighting a losing battle—and if he doesn't… just remind him of the way he followed a certain young novice around campus, watching her with stars in his eyes and a wistful expression on his face."

"You knew?" Apparently, Dimitri was almost as bad at hiding things as Adrian and me.

He shrugged. "I didn't know… but when a young man who always stayed to himself suddenly started to loosen up and act differently… I noticed."

Despite my irritation at my brother's attitude towards Adrian, I couldn't help but smile; it made me happy to know that other people were finally able to see the real Dimitri—the one that lurked deep inside him, hiding behind his standoffish guardian persona. No matter how angry I might be at Roza or how jealous I was that she held Adrian's heart, I was a big enough person to admit that she was responsible for helping my brother come out of his shell.

"May I mention something else that I've observed?"

I glanced over at him—he was watching me with a strange sort of half smile on his face. "Certainly—your observations are proving to be a very educational experience for me."

"That expression that I mentioned seeing on your brother? The one that made it obvious he was longing for his mentee to notice him? I've seen it the past few days… on Guardian Johnson. He wears it when he's watching you."

I dropped my eyes, focusing on the ground in front of me. "It is a pretty thought… one I know it isn't true. But thank you for—"

I do not tell lies, Viktoria." He grabbed by arm, jerking me to an abrupt halt. "Especially not when I can tell that you want to serve. Don't try and deny it—I can see it as clearly as the nose on your face."

"I… I'm not sure." There was a tremor in my mumble, betraying my indecision. "I think I would like to… if it could be the way Yeva describes it. But I don't want to serve if it means being shackled to a Moroi I don't get along with. How can I pledge to give my life before I know who I'll be assigned to? I know myself, Emil—I know my limitations. If I don't like someone, I won't be able to give them the sort of protection that is required. I won't lay down my life for someone who isn't worth the sacrifice—and I don't want to upset my family by going against their wishes on the matter."

He released my arm, his face solemn as he studied me in the darkness. "You are very wise for someone so young… but at the same time, you are foolish in your youth. I've just told you what I've observed, Viktoria. There is a Royal Moroi you could guard in the old way—out of love and respect. And judging by the way your grandmother treats him… I think she would give you her blessing."

"And I told you that I know it isn't true," I snapped, angry at being pushed into discussing things I wanted to avoid. "He has told me quite plainly that he is still in love with someone else."

He made a dismissive noise. "He never looked at Rose the way he looks at you. He looked at her with admiration and desire… but never with devotion and wonder."

I huffed, irritated that so many people were aware of the situation between them. "You'll have to forgive me for believing that he knows his own heart better than you do."

"Young men often think themselves in love with a beautiful girl, then later realize the truth… often times too late." His voice held a strange undercurrent—a mixture of sadness and loss that blunted the sharp edge of my anger. "When I was his age I felt the same… I lost a good woman because of my idiocy."

"If you really love someone… I believe it is never too late," I pointed out.

"For me it is—my cousin recognized what I did not and stepped in, sweeping her off her feet. Now that he is gone… it would be a disservice to his memory if I tried to take his place." Emil shrugged his shoulders and started moving again, slowly feeding out more line as he walked. "Besides… if she could get over me so quickly, then she didn't really love me. We are friends now—good friends—and for me, that is enough."

"I feel like there is a point to this that I am missing. Besides the obvious one, I mean." I followed after him, a feeling of unease prickling up inside me. His words disturbed me, though I didn't know why.

"Maybe there is… and maybe there isn't. Maybe I'm just making conversation to pass the time."

"That is a very frustrating answer."

His sudden burst of laughter was loud, echoing around us. "Men are supposed to frustrate women, Viktoria. It is the only weapon we have in our arsenal to level the playing field. Surely you can see that it's only fair, since you ladies do the same to us all the time. You say one thing when you really mean another, teasing and giggling flirtatiously all the while."

"I don't."

"You don't flirt? I find that hard to believe."

"No… I don't say one thing when I mean something else. There's no point in playing silly games—it just wastes time." I thought about it for a moment, then realized it was only partially true. "Though if the person I am talking to wants that kind of discussion… you know… if we're mutually teasing each other, I might do it. But I don't make a practice of it. I've been on the receiving end of being played… and it's not fun. I could never do that to a person, not even to someone I despised."

"I suppose that means the Guardian Council could never use you as a Mata Hari then."

I gave him a blank look. "A what?"

"A seductive spy, batting your eyelashes and using your feminine wiles to obtain secrets from our enemies."

I snorted. "I'm hardly the type for that. Now Roza on the other hand…" My voice trailed off at his chuckle, but I didn't share his amusement. All the talk of love and games affected me deeply; it reminded me of my brother and Roza's warnings about Adrian, A rush of overwhelming doubt swept over me—what if I was wrong, and everything he said was a lie? In that moment, more than anything, I needed his arms around me—I needed to gaze into his eyes and let what I saw there wash away the fear that gripped me, reassuring me that no matter what, I could believe his words were true.

On top of that, I couldn't help but feel that by allowing my thoughts to stray to my own problems, I was being incredibly shallow. In light of what we'd discovered, the last thing I should be dwelling on was my own romantic troubles.

"I'm a horrible person," I muttered under my breath.

"Why is that?"

"I shouldn't be worrying about my situation with Adrian right now—not after finding that poor dead girl and everything we figured out. I should be focused on the problem, not—"

"Bullshit. As you pointed out, you are still a novice—this isn't your problem at all Viktoria."

"But it is! It effects all of us—"

"Yes—but right now, you aren't ready to deal with it. Not until you graduate and decide if you'll be joining us. For now, it's up to older, more experienced dhampirs who have pledged to serve."

It was on the tip of my tongue to point out the obvious—for almost a year , the older, experienced guardians had overlooked several glaringly obvious leads that I'd spotted within minutes, but I let it slide. He was trying to help me, so I wasn't about to disparage his skills.

"Let me give you a piece of advice—enjoy being young while you can. Before you know it, life will shackle you down with chains that cannot be broken. While you have the chance… celebrate life."

I sighed. "As much as I would like to follow your advice… I can't. If we don't do something now, more guardians will die. I don't want another family to experience what mine did—"

"They won't."

"How can you say that? If we can't tell anyone what we found—"

"We're going to tell the people who matter—the ones that can do something with the information."

I frowned. "But Alto said—"

"Not to tell the council—and we won't. But Alberta and I can make calls to the guardians who might be targets. We can warn them of our suspicions and tell them to be extra vigilant. As for you… you can take all the evidence and present your theory to the one person who might be able to track down whoever is behind the attacks."

"My brother."

"No… I think in this instance, reminding Dimitri of the time he spent as a Strigoi would not be the wisest move."

I glanced over at him, not trying to hide my confusion. "But he might have information we need."

"True, but from what I've heard… he does not like talking about it, Viktoria. I think we should spare him any additional pain, don't you? If it comes right down to it and we have no other choice, then yes… by all means ask him… but for now, I think we should try alternate means first."

I knew he was right; I'd seen firsthand how the memories haunted Dimitri, but at the same time, I also knew that my brother would want to help prevent other dhampirs from the horror he had lived through. Despite what Adrian believed, at his core, my brother's nobility always governed his actions; he would put the wellbeing of others over his own discomfort—it was simply his nature to do so. However, I was more than willing to spare him from revisiting the past if the information could be obtained another way.

"So… if not Dimitri… then who?"

He smiled, raising his brows. "I think you know the answer to that question. Who is the one person that is always able to obtain anything, no matter how difficult it might seem?"

I groaned. "Zmey. You want me to ask Zmey."

He nodded.

"He will consider it a debt, you know—and I already owe him more than I can hope to repay in my life."

"He won't if you tell him I'm the one who told you to turn to him."

My curiosity flared to life immediately at the enigmatic statement. "He owes you?"

Emil's smile was almost smug. "In a way. You see… fifteen years ago I transferred onto the staff at this academy at his request. He wanted family watching over his small daughter so she wouldn't be completely alone."

I stumbled—almost falling flat on my face; he reached over to steady me, but I waved him off. "You're related to Abe?"

"I am. We are cousins on his father's side."

I allowed my eyes to run over him, feeling like an idiot. There was definitely a familial resemblance between them—they shared the same dark hair and eyes, and the way Emil's mouth twisted up in a crooked grin was almost identical to Roza's. It was easy to imagine the pale, faded Moroi cast of Abe's skin replaced with Emil's more robust complexion— a color that brought to mind sirocco winds, hinting at lingering traces of shared Persian ancestors. "Does Roza know this?"

"Not that I am aware of—I certainly never told her, and I never treated her any differently than her peers."

For a moment—just a moment—I felt like slapping him. The words of wisdom Yeva had shared on the plane about the lonely existence Roza had experienced played through my mind, awakening my anger. Her desire for a family was a palpable thing; it was something my family had sensed almost from the moment she came into our lives. We'd embraced her as one of us, trying to fill the void within her, but it wasn't the same thing—and because of that, I couldn't hold my tongue. "You watched her suffering with her abandonment… all those years… and you did nothing to ease her sorrow?"

He flinched—as if I'd followed through with my impulse to strike him; it was proof that sometimes words can wound much better than any physical blow. "I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't. Janine made Abe swear that he would stay out of her life until she graduated—if I'd made my presence known… it would have led to questions that couldn't be answered."

His dark eyes were full of pleading, but the absolution he needed wasn't mine to give. "Her mother's demands were selfish. They condemned an innocent child to years of misery—and you played a part in that, Emil. I can tell you from personal experience that the wounds we receive as children never fully heal. They linger on, tormenting us until our time on earth is spent."

"Rose has always been strong—like her father," he muttered; I was unsure who he was trying to convince—himself or me.

"Even the strong suffer—I have seen the pain in Abe's eyes when he talks about what he lost. Roza is no different." I averted my gaze from his, staring into the blackness before me as a horrifying realization struck me—something he'd clearly never considered. "You said your cousin died in the battle… was he by any chance related to Abe too?"

"Yes, he was."

"Then your deception has not only caused Roza pain… it has also stolen away any chance she might have had to get to know him. She will never be able to learn more about his life or hear stories from his past. She will never be able to hug him or show him how much he means to her. Think about that. You need to tell her—before something happens and she loses that chance with you too. It is too late to erase the past… but you can be her family now. It is something she still longs for, though she tries to hide it away."

I had no way of knowing whether my words had affected him; he didn't answer—not that I expected him to. Perhaps he was thinking about Roza as a child—remembering all the birthdays and Christmases she had spent without being surrounded by family, or maybe he was imagining a future in which he owned up to his actions. I didn't know how Roza would react to such surprising news, but I was certain that in time… she would gladly accept him as kin. She wanted a family far too much to ignore the ties of blood that bound them together.

"When you are older, you will learn that sometimes you have to do the wrong things… for the right reason."

I laughed, but it was a hollow sound, holding no amusement. "I hate to break it to you, but that is a lesson I've already mastered. I have never lied to my brother before, and though you might not believe me, I swear to you it is the hardest thing I've ever done.

My stomach knotted as I imagined Dimitri's reaction when he finally learned the truth of what I'd done. I wasn't worried about his anger—though I knew he would be mad—what disturbed me the most was the knowledge of how much my deception would hurt him. I squeezed my eyes closed, taking a deep breath, trying to erase the image of his eyes—full of betrayal and anguish—from my mind.

"I would say that he has no right to voice an opinion in the matter… but considering the uniqueness of the situation… I would probably be opposed as well, if I were in his place."

"Then you would be as guilty as Dimitri for judging Adrian unfairly." I responded. "He is hurt and angry by what happened— just like anyone would be—but he is not petty or vindictive. He is a much better man than that."

"Maybe that's your influence—we haven't had the opportunity to see that side of him."

"Then you are also guilty of not using your eyes to see what is right in front of you," I retorted as we rounded a bend in the tunnel.

We were close to the spot where I'd entered the maze—I could faintly hear Adrian's low, husky voice echoing off the stone as he bickered with Yeva, trying to calm her down. The sound danced along my body, making me shiver; a sharp, aching need to be near him made me hasten my steps. In that moment, I wanted to see him more than anything—even more than I wanted to be out of the cave's darkness and in the warmth of sunlight. Almost as if he could sense my thoughts, Emil fell back, letting me take the lead—then I was shimmying through the narrow crevice sideways, immediately engulfed in an embrace so strong that it stole my breath from my lungs.

But it wasn't Adrian holding me—it was Yeva.

"I tried to spare you…. I'm so, so sorry kotyonok," she whispered, pulling back to gaze up at me with her wise, dark eyes.

"I will be fine… it had to be done. She is at peace now, Grandmother," I offered, softly.

"Who's at peace?"

I turned my head towards Alberta, but Emil appeared behind me, answering before I could speak. "Molly Drozdov. Viktoria found her body in a chamber much further in."

The steadfast, formidable guardian looked stunned. "I thought they turned her—"

"We think they did—they removed her head. The tarp, Vika?" Emil moved past us to the collapsed portion of the wall, studying it intently. "Alberta… help me find a place to secure the line—I need to get back to Stan."

I stepped away from Yeva to kneel beside the bag I'd earlier abandoned, rummaging through it for the small, tightly bundled tarp. As an afterthought, I pulled out the chalk I'd taken—a safeguard in case the line broke on his way back to Alto.

"If you'll call for backup, we'll bring the body to the entrance and wait for them," Emil murmured.

"I won't be able to get a signal until we're closer to the academy. Are you sure you don't want to—"

"Oh—my phone! Emil—you can use it to take the photographs you said you needed. It's in Guardian Petrov's backpack."

"In my…" Alberta narrowed her eyes at me, frowning as I approached her. "So that's why you were so helpful."

I shrugged as I moved to retrie it from the pocket I'd stashed it in. "It has GPS… I wasn't about to be cut out of the expedition."

"Alberta… Viktoria found something… disturbing back there." Emil looked up from the line he was tying off, frowning as his eyes darted over to me. "Alto and I both agree that in light of what it is… we should wait before disclosing everything to the council."

"I see… I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me about why you think—"

"There are several reasons—the primary one being that if word gets out… it could create mass panic. The chamber we found Molly's head in has a message written on the wall in blood… that coupled with what Viktoria found…we all agree that the Strigoi are trying to turn the best of us—"

"Why in the hell would they waste their time—"

"To make an army. An army that is already trained to fight and kill." I said, softly. "A guardian spends the first half of their life learning to be the best fighter they can be—add the strength of a Strigoi to that…." I let my voice trail off, positive she would understand the weight of what was left unspoken.

She frowned. "What was the message they left?"

"It says 'only the strongest receive the gift'. Don't you see? What happened to Dimitri wasn't some spur of the moment act." I retrieved the items I'd collected from my pocket, passing them over to her. "They were monitoring the campus… four of the staff in particular."

She flipped through the pictures; I could tell when she reached the one of her—she looked up at me, gray eyes wide as they flicked between the photograph and my face. "I don't understand—"

"They planned on taking you as well, madam."

"My God… that means…Savva… you think he's one of them now?"

I've often heard the term 'a strangled cry', but I never understood what it really meant—not until that moment. It perfectly described the sound my grandmother made as her legs gave way beneath her. As she hit the ground, the look on her face was one of heartbreaking desolation—an exact match to the one I'd seen her wear when I found her crying on the back porch a few hours after Roza had confirmed that our worst fear had come to pass.

"Grandmother!" I moved towards her—Adrian was faster.

"It's okay—we'll find him. I'll bring him back to you," he murmured quietly as he wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders—lending her his strength as he supported her in her grief. "I promise you—"

"You wouldn't have a chance, Ivashkov. As a dhampir he was lethal… as a Strigoi…" Alberta's voice was soft as she shook her head, her eyes full of remorse. "…he'll be unstoppable. A killing machine."

"So was Belikov—I saw him in action—but Lissa managed to restore him," Adrian shot back with a determined expression on his face. "Viktoria and I will find him—and when we do… I'll bring him back."

His words were a catalyst; I froze, barely able to breath as the sight flared to life—rolling through me so strongly that it wiped away everything around me as images danced through my brain. I watched as tall, frail looking woman with long hair the color of autumn leaves drove a stake into the chest of a fiercely beautiful Strigoi; the creature fell, her black hair spilling around her like a shroud as her eyes widened—astonishment wiping away the cold, deadly gleam that had lingered in their gray depths. There was a howl of rage as someone grabbed the wielder of the stake from behind, but someone jerked her away from the grasping hands. Dimitri. My brother shoved her out of the way, facing off with her attacker—his face set in a look of intense determination.

Savva. His tan skin bleached bone white, his fangs bared in a furious snarl as he blocked Dimitri's blows, countering with powerful punches of his own. Dimitri whipped his leg out in a kick that should have swept our cousin's feet from beneath him—but Savva caught it, using it to jerk my brother's body close enough to grab. His head drew back, as he prepared to strike—fangs aimed for Dimitri's throat—but at the last possible second, he stumbled, his eyes widening in shock. He released Dimitri, falling to his knees—Adrian fell with him, riding his body and letting the momentum plunge the stake he held further through the Strigoi's back, piercing my cousin's heart from behind.

"Vika? What's wrong with her?" Alberta's voice sounded hollow and far away, but the frantic sound of it helped me to focus, pulling me back into the present. I was on my back, staring up into the darkness—my body shaking from the intensity of the vision.

"Do not touch her—let her be!" Yeva's voice was weak—thick with emotion. "Let her regain her sense of self… her sense of this time and place."

I turned my head, struggling to focus; my head was pounding—but as bad as the pain was, it was less intense than what I normally felt in the wake of the sight. My eyes locked on Adrian's face—my voice full of stunned amazement as I uttered the one thing he probably never thought he would hear.

"He will do what he says… and he will save Dimitri's life in the process."

A/N Out of curiosity, how many of you guessed who the ghost was? She is actually a canon character, though she was only mentioned once in the series—in Shadow Kiss:

She still wouldn't look at me. "Molly wasn't there either."

Molly was the Moroi who had been snacked on. She was my age, tall and beautiful. I'd seen her body in the cave, drained of blood. She had definitely been dead. There was no way she'd been injured and staggered out. Molly and Dimitri. Both their bodies gone.

I don't know if anyone has noticed, but one of the things I attempt to do in my fics is to challenge myself by tackling the things in the series that were left open and unresolved. I am sure there are many people—like me—who have questions about things that were never really answered in the original books. Things like what happened to Molly? Why did the Strigoi suddenly start breaking wards and attacking Royal households and the academy after so many centuries of lurking in the shadows and 'culling the stragglers' from the herd? This chapter picked up a few of those threads, weaving them into what will be a much broader tapestry than what we were left with at the end of the final book. Future chapters will eventually cover more about spirit, and the history of the Moroi and dhampir races, among other things.

Hope you enjoyed it! I'll try not to be so slow with the next update, but they've switched up my mom's chemo again to a much stronger kind, and she's not handling the adjustment well. She's been in a lot of pain (the tumors have gotten bigger) so we've had a lot of dr visits etc and other real life issues to deal with, and while a smart phone is great for things like tumblr and twitter, it's not so great for updating fics. (Not to mention battling off a new muse that wants me to 'fix' the end of her story, lol. I can't say I blame her—I threw Allegiant against the wall when I finished it -.-.)

Xo

—sws