Book three: Bella 30 страница

“Oh, haven’t I?” Eleazar muttered. Then he shrugged out from under her hand and began his pacing again, faster even than before.

Tanya watched him for half a second and then focused on Edward. “Explain.”

Edward nodded, his tense eyes following Eleazar as he spoke. “He was trying to understand why so many of the Volturi would come to punish us. It’s not the way they do things. Certainly, we are the biggest mature coven they’ve dealt with, but in the past other covens have joined to protect themselves, and they never presented much of a challenge despite their numbers. We are more closely bonded, and that’s a factor, but not a huge one.

“He was remembering other times that covens have been punished, for one thing or the other, and a pattern occurred to him. It was a pattern that the rest of the guard would never have noticed, since Eleazar was the one passing the pertinent intelligence privately to Aro. A pattern that only repeated every other century or so.”

“What was this pattern?” Carmen asked, watching Eleazar as Edward was.

“Aro does not often personally attend a punishing expedition,” Edward said. “But in the past, when Aro wanted something in particular, it was never long before evidence turned up proving that this coven or that coven had committed some unpardonable crime. The ancients would decide to go along to watch the guard administer justice. And then, once the coven was all but destroyed, Aro would grant a pardon to one member whose thoughts, he would claim, were particularly repentant. Always, it would turn out that this vampire had the gift Aro had admired. Always, this person was given a place with the guard. The gifted vampire was won over quickly, always so grateful for the honor. There were no exceptions.”

“It must be a heady thing to be chosen,” Kate suggested.

“Ha!” Eleazar snarled, still in motion.

“There is one among the guard,” Edward said, explaining Eleazar’s angry reaction. “Her name is Chelsea. She has influence over the emotional ties between people. She can both loosen and secure these ties. She could make someone feel bonded to the Volturi, to want to belong, to want to please them....”

Eleazar came to an abrupt halt. “We all understood why Chelsea was important. In a fight, if we could separate allegiances between allied covens, we could defeat them that much more easily. If we could distance the innocent members of a coven emotionally from the guilty, justice could be done without unnecessary brutality—the guilty could be punished without interference, and the innocent could be spared. Otherwise, it was impossible to keep the coven from fighting as a whole. So Chelsea would break the ties that bound them together. It seemed a great kindness to me, evidence of Aro’s mercy. I did suspect that Chelsea kept our own band more tightly knit, but that, too, was a good thing. It made us more effective. It helped us coexist more easily.”

This clarified old memories for me. It had not made sense to me before how the guard obeyed their masters so gladly, with almost lover-like devotion.

“How strong is her gift?” Tanya asked with an edge to her voice. Her gaze quickly touched on each member of her family.

Eleazar shrugged. “I was able to leave with Carmen.” And then he shook his head. “But anything weaker than the bond between partners is in danger. In a normal coven, at least. Those are weaker bonds than those in our family, though. Abstaining from human blood makes us more civilized—lets us form true bonds of love. I doubt she could turn our allegiances, Tanya.”

Tanya nodded, seeming reassured, while Eleazar continued with his analysis.

“I could only think that the reason Aro had decided to come himself, to bring so many with him, is because his goal is not punishment but acquisition,” Eleazar said. “He needs to be there to control the situation. But he needs the entire guard for protection from such a large, gifted coven. On the other hand, that leaves the other ancients unprotected in Volterra. Too risky—someone might try to take advantage. So they all come together. How else could he be sure to preserve the gifts that he wants? He must want them very badly,” Eleazar mused.

Edward’s voice was low as a breath. “From what I saw of his thoughts last spring, Aro’s never wanted anything more than he wants Alice.”

I felt my mouth fall open, remembering the nightmarish pictures I had imagined long ago: Edward and Alice in black cloaks with bloodred eyes, their faces cold and remote as they stood close as shadows, Aro’s hands on theirs.… Had Alice seen this more recently? Had she seen Chelsea trying to strip away her love for us, to bind her to Aro and Caius and Marcus?

“Is that why Alice left?” I asked, my voice breaking on her name.

Edward put his hand against my cheek. “I think it must be. To keep Aro from gaining the thing he wants most of all. To keep her power out of his hands.”

I heard Tanya and Kate murmuring in disturbed voices and remembered that they hadn’t known about Alice.

“He wants you, too,” I whispered.

Edward shrugged, his face suddenly a little too composed. “Not nearly as much. I can’t really give him anything more than he already has. And of course that’s dependent on his finding a way to force me to do his will. He knows me, and he knows how unlikely that is.” He raised one eyebrow sardonically.

Eleazar frowned at Edward’s nonchalance. “He also knows your weaknesses,” Eleazar pointed out, and then he looked at me.

“It’s nothing we need to discuss now,” Edward said quickly.

Eleazar ignored the hint and continued. “He probably wants your mate, too, regardless. He must have been intrigued by a talent that could defy him in its human incarnation.”

Edward was uncomfortable with this topic. I didn’t like it, either. If Aro wanted me to do something—anything—all he had to do was threaten Edward and I would comply. And vice versa.

Was death the lesser concern? Was it really capture we should fear?

Edward changed the subject. “I think the Volturi were waiting for this—for some pretext. They couldn’t know what form their excuse would come in, but the plan was already in place for when it did come. That’s why Alice saw their decision before Irina triggered it. The decision was already made, just waiting for the pretense of a justification.”

“If the Volturi are abusing the trust all immortals have placed in them…,” Carmen murmured.

“Does it matter?” Eleazar asked. “Who would believe it? And even if others could be convinced that the Volturi are exploiting their power, how would it make any difference? No one can stand against them.”

“Though some of us are apparently insane enough to try,” Kate muttered.

Edward shook his head. “You’re only here to witness, Kate. Whatever Aro’s goal, I don’t think he’s ready to tarnish the Volturi’s reputation for it. If we can take away his argument against us, he’ll be forced to leave us in peace.”

“Of course,” Tanya murmured.

No one looked convinced. For a few long minutes, nobody said anything.

Then I heard the sound of tires turning off the highway pavement onto the Cullens’ dirt drive.

“Oh crap, Charlie,” I muttered. “Maybe the Denalis could hang out upstairs until—”

“No,” Edward said in a distant voice. His eyes were far away, staring blankly at the door. “It’s not your father.” His gaze focused on me. “Alice sent Peter and Charlotte, after all. Time to get ready for the next round.”

32. COMPANY

The Cullens’ enormous house was more crowded with guests than anyone would assume could possibly be comfortable. It only worked out because none of the visitors slept. Mealtimes were dicey, though. Our company cooperated as best they could. They gave Forks and La Push a wide berth, only hunting out of state; Edward was a gracious host, lending out his cars as needed without so much as a wince. The compromise made me very uncomfortable, though I tried to tell myself that they’d all be hunting somewhere in the world, regardless.

Jacob was even more upset. The werewolves existed to prevent the loss of human life, and here was rampant murder being condoned barely outside the packs’ borders. But under these circumstances, with Renesmee in acute danger, he kept his mouth shut and glared at the floor rather than the vampires.

I was amazed at the easy acceptance the visiting vampires had for Jacob; the problems Edward had anticipated had never materialized. Jacob seemed more or less invisible to them, not quite a person, but also not food, either. They treated him the way people who are not animal-lovers treat the pets of their friends.

Leah, Seth, Quil, and Embry were assigned to run with Sam for now, and Jacob would have happily joined them, except that he couldn’t stand to be away from Renesmee, and Renesmee was busy fascinating the strange collection of Carlisle’s friends.

We’d replayed the scene of Renesmee’s introduction to the Denali coven a half dozen times. First for Peter and Charlotte, whom Alice and Jasper had sent our way without giving them any explanation at all; like most people who knew Alice, they trusted her instructions despite the lack of information. Alice had told them nothing about which direction she and Jasper were heading. She’d made no promise to ever see them again in the future.

Neither Peter nor Charlotte had ever seen an immortal child. Though they knew the rule, their negative reaction was not as powerful as the Denali vampires’ had been at first. Curiosity had driven them to allow Renesmee’s “explanation.” And that was it. Now they were as committed to witnessing as Tanya’s family.

Carlisle had sent friends from Ireland and Egypt.

The Irish clan arrived first, and they were surprisingly easy to convince. Siobhan—a woman of immense presence whose huge body was both beautiful and mesmerizing as it moved in smooth undulations—was the leader, but she and her hard-faced mate, Liam, were long used to trusting the judgment of their newest coven member. Little Maggie, with her bouncy red curls, was not physically imposing like the other two, but she had a gift for knowing when she was being lied to, and her verdicts were never contested. Maggie declared that Edward spoke the truth, and so Siobhan and Liam accepted our story absolutely before even touching Renesmee.

Amun and the other Egyptian vampires were another story. Even after two younger members of his coven, Benjamin and Tia, had been convinced by Renesmee’s explanation, Amun refused to touch her and ordered his coven to leave. Benjamin—an oddly cheerful vampire who looked barely older than a boy and seemed both utterly confident and utterly careless at the same time—persuaded Amun to stay with a few subtle threats about disbanding their alliance. Amun stayed, but continued to refuse to touch Renesmee, and would not allow his mate, Kebi, to touch her, either. It seemed an unlikely grouping—though the Egyptians all looked so alike, with their midnight hair and olive-toned pallor, that they easily could have passed for a biological family. Amun was the senior member and the outspoken leader. Kebi never strayed farther away from Amun than his shadow, and I never heard her speak a single word. Tia, Benjamin’s mate, was a quiet woman as well, though when she did speak there was great insight and gravity to everything she said. Still, it was Benjamin whom they all seemed to revolve around, as if he had some invisible magnetism the others depended upon for their balance. I saw Eleazar staring at the boy with wide eyes and assumed Benjamin had a talent that drew the others to him.

“It’s not that,” Edward told me when we were alone that night. “His gift is so singular that Amun is terrified of losing him. Much like we had planned to keep Renesmee from Aro’s knowledge”—he sighed—“Amun has been keeping Benjamin from Aro’s attention. Amun created Benjamin, knowing he would be special.”

“What can he do?”

“Something Eleazar’s never seen before. Something I’ve never heard of. Something that even your shield would do nothing against.” He grinned his crooked smile at me. “He can actually influence the elements—earth, wind, water, and fire. True physical manipulation, no illusion of the mind. Benjamin’s still experimenting with it, and Amun tries to mold him into a weapon. But you see how independent Benjamin is. He won’t be used.”

“You like him,” I surmised from the tone of his voice.

“He has a very clear sense of right and wrong. I like his attitude.”

Amun’s attitude was something else, and he and Kebi kept to themselves, though Benjamin and Tia were well on their way to being fast friends with both the Denali and the Irish covens. We hoped that Carlisle’s return would ease the remaining tension with Amun.

Emmett and Rose sent individuals—any nomad friends of Carlisle’s that they could track down.

Garrett came first—a tall, rangy vampire with eager ruby eyes and long sandy hair he kept tied back with a leather thong—and it was apparent immediately that he was an adventurer. I imagined that we could have presented him with any challenge and he would have accepted, just to test himself. He fell in quickly with the Denali sisters, asking endless questions about their unusual lifestyle. I wondered if vegetarianism was another challenge he would try, just to see if he could do it.

Mary and Randall also came—friends already, though they did not travel together. They listened to Renesmee’s story and stayed to witness like the others. Like the Denalis, they considered what they would do if the Volturi did not pause for explanations. All three of the nomads toyed with the idea of standing with us.

Of course, Jacob got more surly with each new addition. He kept his distance when he could, and when he couldn’t he grumbled to Renesmee that someone was going to have to provide an index if anyone expected him to keep all the new bloodsuckers’ names straight.*

Carlisle and Esme returned a week after they had gone, Emmett and Rosalie just a few days later, and all of us felt better when they were home. Carlisle brought one more friend home with him, though friend might have been the wrong term. Alistair was a misanthropic English vampire who counted Carlisle as his closest acquaintance, though he could hardly stand a visit more than once a century. Alistair very much preferred to wander alone, and Carlisle had called in a lot of favors to get him here. He shunned all company, and it was clear he didn’t have any admirers in the gathered covens.

The brooding dark-haired vampire took Carlisle at his word about Renesmee’s origins, refusing, like Amun, to touch her. Edward told Carlisle, Esme, and me that Alistair was afraid to be here, but more afraid of not knowing the outcome. He was deeply suspicious of all authority, and therefore naturally suspicious of the Volturi. What was happening now seemed to confirm all his fears.

“Of course, now they’ll know I was here,” we heard him grumble to himself in the attic—his preferred spot to sulk. “No way to keep it from Aro at this point. Centuries on the run, that’s what this will mean. Everyone Carlisle’s talked to in the last decade will be on their list. I can’t believe I got myself sucked into this mess. What a fine way to treat your friends.”

But if he was right about having to run from the Volturi, at least he had more hope of doing that than the rest of us. Alistair was a tracker, though not nearly as precise and efficient as Demetri. Alistair just felt an elusive pull toward whatever he was seeking. But that pull would be enough to tell him which direction to run—the opposite direction from Demetri.

And then another pair of unexpected friends arrived—unexpected, because neither Carlisle nor Rosalie had been able to contact the Amazons.

“Carlisle,” the taller of the two very tall feline women greeted him when they arrived. Both of them seemed as if they’d been stretched—long arms and legs, long fingers, long black braids, and long faces with long noses. They wore nothing but animal skins—hide vests and tight-fitting pants that laced on the sides with leather ties. It wasn’t just their eccentric clothes that made them seem wild but everything about them, from their restless crimson eyes to their sudden, darting movements. I’d never met any vampires less civilized.

But Alice had sent them, and that was interesting news, to put it mildly. Why was Alice in South America? Just because she’d seen that no one else would be able to get in touch with the Amazons?

“Zafrina and Senna! But where’s Kachiri?” Carlisle asked. “I’ve never seen you three apart.”

“Alice told us we needed to separate,” Zafrina answered in the rough, deep voice that matched her wild appearance. “It’s uncomfortable to be away from each other, but Alice assured us that you needed us here, while she very much needed Kachiri somewhere else. That’s all she would tell us, except that there was a great hurry…?” Zafrina’s statement trailed off into a question, and—with the tremor of nerves that never went away no matter how often I did this—I brought Renesmee out to meet them.

Despite their fierce appearance, they listened very calmly to our story, and then allowed Renesmee to prove the point. They were every bit as taken with Renesmee as any of the other vampires, but I couldn’t help worrying as I watched their swift, jerky movements so close beside her. Senna was always near Zafrina, never speaking, but it wasn’t the same as Amun and Kebi. Kebi’s manner seemed obedient; Senna and Zafrina were more like two limbs of one organism—Zafrina just happened to be the mouthpiece.

The news about Alice was oddly comforting. Clearly, she was on some obscure mission of her own as she avoided whatever Aro had planned for her.

Edward was thrilled to have the Amazons with us, because Zafrina was enormously talented; her gift could make a very dangerous offensive weapon. Not that Edward was asking for Zafrina to side with us in the battle, but if the Volturi did not pause when they saw our witnesses, perhaps they would pause for a different kind of scene.

“It’s a very straightforward illusion,” Edward explained when it turned out that I couldn’t see anything, as usual. Zafrina was intrigued and amused by my immunity—something she’d never encountered before—and she hovered restlessly while Edward described what I was missing. Edward’s eyes unfocused slightly as he continued. “She can make most people see whatever she wants them to see—see that, and nothing else. For example, right now I would appear to be alone in the middle of a rain forest. It’s so clear I might possibly believe it, except for the fact that I can still feel you in my arms.”

Zafrina’s lips twitched into her hard version of a smile. A second later, Edward’s eyes focused again, and he grinned back.

“Impressive,” he said.

Renesmee was fascinated with the conversation, and she reached out fearlessly toward Zafrina.

“Can I see?” she asked.

“What would you like to see?” Zafrina asked.

“What you showed Daddy.”

Zafrina nodded, and I watched anxiously as Renesmee’s eyes stared blankly into space. A second later, Renesmee’s dazzling smile lit up her face.

“More,” she commanded.

After that, it was hard to keep Renesmee away from Zafrina and her pretty pictures. I worried, because I was quite sure that Zafrina was able to create images that were not pretty at all. But through Renesmee’s thoughts I could see Zafrina’s visions for myself—they were as clear as any of Renesmee’s own memories, like they were real—and thus judge for myself whether they were appropriate or not.

Though I didn’t give her up easily, I had to admit it was a good thing Zafrina was keeping Renesmee entertained. I needed my hands. I had so much to learn, both physically and mentally, and the time was so short.

My first attempt at learning to fight did not go well.

Edward had me pinned in about two seconds. But instead of letting me wrestle my way free—which I absolutely could have—he’d leaped up and away from me. I knew immediately that something was wrong; he was still as stone, staring across the meadow we were practicing in.

“I’m sorry, Bella,” he said.

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Let’s go again.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? We just started.”

He didn’t answer.

“Look, I know I’m no good at this, but I can’t get better if you don’t help me.”

He said nothing. Playfully, I sprang at him. He made no defense at all, and we both fell to the ground. He was motionless as I pressed my lips to his jugular.

“I win,” I announced.

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

“Edward? What’s wrong? Why won’t you teach me?”

A full minute passed before he spoke again.

“I just can’t… bear it. Emmett and Rosalie know as much as I do. Tanya and Eleazar probably know more. Ask someone else.”

“That’s not fair! You’re good at this. You helped Jasper before—you fought with him and all the others, too. Why not me? What did I do wrong?”

He sighed, exasperated. His eyes were dark, barely any gold to lighten the black.

“Looking at you that way, analyzing you as a target. Seeing all the ways I can kill you...” He flinched. “It just makes it too real for me. We don’t have so much time that it will really make a difference who your teacher is. Anyone can teach you the fundamentals.”

I scowled.

He touched my pouting lower lip and smiled. “Besides, it’s unnecessary. The Volturi will stop. They will be made to understand.”

“But if they don’t! I need to learn this.”

“Find another teacher.”

That was not our last conversation on the subject, but I never swayed him an inch from his decision.

Emmett was more than willing to help, though his teaching felt to me a lot like revenge for all the lost arm-wrestling matches. If I could still bruise, I would have been purple from head to toe. Rose, Tanya, and Eleazar all were patient and supportive. Their lessons reminded me of Jasper’s fighting instructions to the others last June, though those memories were fuzzy and indistinct. Some of the visitors found my education entertaining, and some even offered assistance. The nomad Garrett took a few turns—he was a surprisingly good teacher; he interacted so easily with others in general that I wondered how he’d never found a coven. I even fought once with Zafrina while Renesmee watched from Jacob’s arms. I learned several tricks, but I never asked for her help again. In truth, though I liked Zafrina very much and I knew she wouldn’t really hurt me, the wild woman scared me to death.

I learned many things from my teachers, but I had the sense that my knowledge was still impossibly basic. I had no idea how many seconds I would last against Alec and Jane. I only prayed that it would be long enough to help.

Every minute of the day that I wasn’t with Renesmee or learning to fight, I was in the backyard working with Kate, trying to push my internal shield outside of my own brain to protect someone else. Edward encouraged me in this training. I knew he hoped I would find a way of contributing that satisfied me while also keeping me out of the line of fire.

It was just so hard. There was nothing to get a hold of, nothing solid to work with. I had only my raging desire to be of use, to be able to keep Edward, Renesmee, and as much of my family as possible safe with me. Over and over I tried to force the nebulous shield outside of myself, with only faint, sporadic success. It felt like I was wrestling to stretch an invisible rubber band—a band that would change from concrete tangibility into insubstantial smoke at any random moment.

Only Edward was willing to be our guinea pig—to receive shock after shock from Kate while I grappled incompetently with the insides of my head. We worked for hours at a time, and I felt like I should be covered in sweat from the exertion, but of course my perfect body didn’t betray me that way. My weariness was all mental.

It killed me that it was Edward who had to suffer, my arms wrapped uselessly around him while he winced over and over from Kate’s “low” setting. I tried as hard as I could to push my shield around us both; every now and then I would get it, and then it would slip away again.

I hated this practice, and I wished that Zafrina would help instead of Kate. Then all Edward would have to do was look at Zafrina’s illusions until I could stop him from seeing them. But Kate insisted that I needed better motivation—by which she meant my hatred of watching Edward’s pain. I was beginning to doubt her assertion from the first day we’d met—that she wasn’t sadistic about the use of her gift. She seemed to be enjoying herself to me.

“Hey,” Edward said cheerfully, trying to hide any evidence of distress in his voice. Anything to keep me from fighting practice. “That one barely stung. Good job, Bella.”

I took a deep breath, trying to grasp exactly what I’d done right. I tested the elastic band, struggling to force it to remain solid as I stretched it away from me.

“Again, Kate,” I grunted through my clenched teeth.

Kate pressed her palm to Edward’s shoulder.

He sighed in relief. “Nothing that time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t low, either.”

“Good,” I huffed.

“Get ready,” she told me, and reached out to Edward again.

This time he shuddered, and a low breath hissed between his teeth.

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” I chanted, biting my lip. Why couldn’t I get this right?

“You’re doing an amazing job, Bella,” Edward said, pulling me tight against him. “You’ve really only been working at this for a few days and you’re already projecting sporadically. Kate, tell her how well she’s doing.”

Kate pursed her lips. “I don’t know. She’s obviously got tremendous ability, and we’re only beginning to touch it. She can do better, I’m sure. She’s just lacking incentive.”

I stared at her in disbelief, my lips automatically curling back from my teeth. How could she think I lacked motivation with her shocking Edward right here in front of me?

I heard murmurs from the audience that had grown steadily as I practiced—only Eleazar, Carmen, and Tanya at first, but then Garrett had wandered over, then Benjamin and Tia, Siobhan and Maggie, and now even Alistair was peering down from a window on the third story. The spectators agreed with Edward; they thought I was already doing well.

“Kate…,” Edward said in a warning voice as some new course of action occurred to her, but she was already in motion. She darted along the curve of the river to where Zafrina, Senna, and Renesmee were walking slowly, Renesmee’s hand in Zafrina’s as they traded pictures back and forth. Jacob shadowed them from a few feet behind.

“Nessie,” Kate said—the newcomers had quickly picked up the irritating nickname, “would you like to come help your mother?”

“No,” I half-snarled.

Edward hugged me reassuringly. I shook him off just as Renesmee flitted across the yard to me, with Kate, Zafrina, and Senna right behind her.

“Absolutely not, Kate,” I hissed.

Renesmee reached for me, and I opened my arms automatically. She curled into me, pressing her head into the hollow beneath my shoulder.

“But Momma, I want to help,” she said in a determined voice. Her hand rested against my neck, reinforcing her desire with images of the two of us together, a team.

“No,” I said, quickly backing away. Kate had taken a deliberate step in my direction, her hand stretched toward us.

“Stay away from us, Kate,” I warned her.

“No.” She began stalking forward. She smiled like a hunter cornering her prey.

I shifted Renesmee so that she was clinging to my back, still backing away at a pace that matched Kate’s. Now my hands were free, and if Kate wanted to keep her hands attached to her wrists, she’d better keep her distance.

Kate probably didn’t understand, never having known for herself the passion of a mother for her child. She must not have realized just how far past too far she’d already gone. I was so furious that my vision took on a strange reddish tint, and my tongue tasted like burning metal. The strength I usually worked to keep restrained flowed through my muscles, and I knew I could crush her into diamond-hard rubble if she pushed me to it.

The rage brought every aspect of my being into sharper focus. I could even feel the elasticity of my shield more exactly now—feel that it was not a band so much as a layer, a thin film that covered me from head to toe. With the anger rippling through my body, I had a better sense of it, a tighter hold on it. I stretched it around myself, out from myself, swaddling Renesmee completely inside it, just in case Kate got past my guard.

Kate took another calculated step forward, and a vicious snarl ripped up my throat and through my clenched teeth.

“Be careful, Kate,” Edward cautioned.

Kate took another step, and then made a mistake even someone as inexpert as I could recognize. Just a short leap away from me, she looked away, turning her attention from me to Edward.

Renesmee was secure on my back; I coiled to spring.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-30