volterra

The road up to the city was steep, and as we neared the outer edge, the traffic thickened, until there was no more room for Archie to dodge in and out of lanes. The Porsche slowed until it felt like we were crawling, trapped behind a little tan Peugeot. It was probably a good thing Archie was at the wheel, as at this point I probably would have started laying on the horn. Inciting a road rage incident was not going to get us there any faster—or so I had to keep reminding myself.

At some point I began to notice cars parked off along the side of the road, and people getting out to walk the rest of the way. At first I thought people were just as irritated and done with the waiting as I was, but when we turned around a switchback, I saw the parking lot outside the city walls was completely full, and people were walking through the city wall.

It seemed no cars were being allowed inside the city. Apparently the festival did more than just make the traffic heavier than usual and provide Edythe with the ideal stage to defy the Volturi's rules in the most conspicuous way possible, it meant a partial shutdown of the city.

"Archie," I said in a low, urgent voice.

"I know." Archie's mouth was tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm going to talk to the guard. I can't see what he'll decide yet, though. If this doesn't work, you'll have to run in alone. Just keep asking for the Palazzo dei Priori—or clock tower, if they speak English. Keep running."

"Palazzo dei Priori, Palazzo dei Priori," I chanted, trying to get it down, though I wondered if anyone would be able to understand me though my heavy accent.

"Edythe will be under the clock tower, north of the square. There's a little alleyway just on the right—she'll be in the shadow there. Do whatever you can to get her attention before she steps out into the sun."

I was nodding vigorously, staring straight ahead at the gate up ahead.

We were near the front of the line now. A man in a navy blue uniform was directing the flow of traffic, turning cars away from the full lot. Each car ahead of us U-turned and headed back to find a place beside the road. At last, we were up.

The man in the uniform motioned lazily, not really paying attention.

Instead of turning the car around to follow the others, Archie touched the gas, speeding up just a little and going around the guard, in the direction of the gate. The guard shouted something at us, but didn't move from his position, waving at the next car to prevent the driver from following our bad example.

There was another man at the gate, also in a crisp navy blue uniform. We headed in his direction, and the throngs of tourists eyed us as we passed, some gawking curiously, others frowning in annoyance.

Swiftly the guard took up a position in the middle of the street to block us.

Archie angled the car carefully before coming to a complete stop, making sure the sun was all on my side, and he was in shadow.

The guard looked ticked as he came around the car and rapped on the window.

Archie rolled the window down halfway.

The guard's expression changed slightly when he got a look at the person inside. The guard had looked ready to tell off what probably seemed a couple of rowdy, self-absorbed teenagers, but he hesitated now, uncertain. With Archie's dark designer sunglasses, black leather gloves and jacket, and magazine cover-good looks, he probably looked like a movie star straight out of Hollywood, or someone else of obvious status. The guard was probably doing some fast thinking—if he ticked off the wrong person, he might just be out of a job.

"I am sorry," he said in heavily accented English, in an ingratiating tone. "But only tour buses are allowed in the city today, sir."

Archie flashed a winning smile. "Didn't they tell you? We're taking a private tour." Before the guard could speak again, Archie casually raised a gloved hand out the window and slipped something into the guard's hand.

The guard drew back his hand to study the object, and his eyes grew as big as saucers. It was a roll of cash. The outside wrapping was, no joke, an a thousand dollar bill.

If this had been an ordinary day, I probably would have rolled my eyes and asked Archie if he thought he might be overdoing it just a bit. However, I sat silently in my seat, perfectly still, praying it would work.

The guard stared down at the roll, as though not sure whether he was really awake.

The clock on the dash shifted, another minute closer to twelve. If Edythe went according to her plan, we only had five minutes left. My hands were clenched into fists, and I felt sweat on my palms.

Archie added cheerfully, "I might be in just a bit of a hurry, dude."

The guard seemed to revive. Whatever internal dilemma he'd been having, about the morality of accepting bribes or abetting conspiracies by parties unknown, he must have gotten past it, because he quickly stuffed the money into his vest. He stepped back from the window, and kindly waved us on without another word.

Archie drove on into the city, and I let out a breath of relief, though I was still rigid as a board. We had to make it in time. If we didn't—

My breathing was coming in shallow gasps now, and I forced myself not to think about it. I just had to concentrate on getting there. There was no room for the panic trying to overtake my mind.

The streets in Volterra were oddly narrow, cobbled with the same clay-brown color stones as the buildings which cast shadows over the street. The buildings seemed to close in around us, and it felt like we were creeping along an alleyway, rather than a street. Red flags decorated every wall and window we passed, and I found myself thinking of the red carpet Archie had set out for my birthday what felt like an age ago. The flags seemed to draw us in like a welcome mat, glittering crimson in the midday sun.

The foot traffic was heavy, but Archie used the Porsche to bully people out of the way. He revved the engine and jolted us forward in spurts and stops, sending people scattering in all directions. Mothers clutched their babies to their breasts, some gave us dirty looks and shouted what sounded like threats in another language. Archie swerved the Porsche down a new path I highly doubted was meant for cars, and people had to dive out of the way and press themselves up against the side of buildings avoid us.

I barely saw them. My hand, still slick with cold sweat, was clutching the door handle, and every muscle in my body was tense as I prepared to hurl myself out the moment Archie gave the word. I was counting the seconds in my head.

Archie turned onto another street. I noticed here the buildings were taller, leaning together overhead so close it cast the entire street in shadow. The billowing red flags extending from poles nearly met.

At last Archie came to a stop, just before a crowd that was far thicker than anywhere else we'd seen so far. I had my seat belt off and the door open before it had even stopped moving.

"Okay, we're here," Archie said in a rush. He jabbed a finger. "You just run that way—toward the north end of the square. Run straight across, and look to right of the clock tower. I'll try to find a way—"

Archie froze suddenly, eyes wide. "They're everywhere," he said in a low, stunned voice. "Absolutely everywhere."

It only took a second for Archie to snap back to the present, and his eyes went back to me. "Never mind, get going! Two minutes, man, that's all we got. Go, go!"

I didn't need to be told twice. Without pausing to watch Archie get out of the car and melt into the shadows, or even close my door behind me, I launched myself through the dark alley and into the square.

For a moment, the sun blinded me, the cold wind stung my face and whipped my hair into my eyes. I didn't see the thick crowd until I'd just about run into them.

I searched for a gap, a path of least resistance. However, I couldn't see one, and I began pushing and shoving my way through the crowd. Grunts of surprise and irritation followed me as I went, but I barely heard them, all my concentration zeroed in on one thing. I couldn't think about the possibility of failure. There was no time for that—and yet I couldn't help but notice as I moved that I was surrounded in a sea of red. The flags, the uniforms, the clothes worn by all those here to celebrate—everything around me was tinted in crimson.

The thick crowd jostled me as I tried to battle my way through, and I was glad for the clock tower, as it helped keep me oriented even as I was pushed and spun in the wrong direction. However, as I raised my eyes to the face of the block, I felt a charge of panic as I realized that both hands were pointing skyward. I began to shove people more desperately, viciously, but I knew it was already too late—I was going to miss it by literally seconds. All because I was a slow, pitiful human.

Let Archie make it out at least, I thought. Even if Edythe was executed and I was devoured, I hoped Archie would make it back to Jessamine.

Every second I listened, for the gasps, the shouts, the signs of discovery when Edythe revealed herself. But I hadn't heard anything yet, and so I kept running, with a sliver of treacherous hope.

My eyes fell on a pocket of open space in the crowd up ahead. I scrambled toward it, pushing people aside while swearwords in Italian followed me. Only when I reached it and nearly fell forward over a low brick outcrop did I see the break was actually a large square fountain, set right in the center of the plaza.

I didn't think. I leaped over the low obstacle and threw myself into the pool. The icy water nearly came up to my knees, and I made a straight line for the opposite end of the courtyard, throwing up water every which way. As my soaked sneakers hit the cobblestones on the opposite end, I felt my heart lift. I was so close. And with my drenched clothes spraying droplets of water, the crowd was parting before me now. Surely I was going to make it. I couldn't fail now—

The deep, booming chime of the clock split the air, reverberating off the walls and making the cobblestones shiver beneath my feet. Children cried at the noise, and a few tourists plugged their ears.

My stomach turned to ice and, throwing all remaining caution to the winds, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Edythe!"

I shouted her name again and again, still running, even though I knew it was useless, that she could never hear me over the noise of the crowd and the great tolling of the clock. Even knowing that I was too late.

Again the sound of the clock filled my ears, shaking the ground beneath my feet and making every bone rattle in my body, as I tore past a mother and infant, the infant's head of blond hair almost white in the brilliant sunlight, and a circle of tall men in red blazers. Frowning and curious faces followed my progress, but I barely saw them.

The clock struck the hour again, and my eyes scanned the dark narrow passage to the right of the white edifice just beneath the clock tower, where Archie had told me to look. But there were still too many people in the way to get a clear view.

The clock tolled again. Everything seemed to have slowed to a crawl as I pushed myself to the limit. I was so close now—only a single family stood between me and the alley mouth, a father and mother, and a couple of little boys dressed in matching crimson play-uniforms. One of the boys poked his father in the leg, and was pointing at something in the alley just beyond. I could just make it out in between the crook of the father's elbow—something shimmering slightly in the shadows. The youngest boy grimaced as the bell tolled again.

My torso was nearly parallel to the ground now as I pushed for every bit of speed I could muster. I dodged around the mother, who protectively pulled her younger son out of my way, and as I raced toward the shadowy gap beyond them, I shouted, "Don't, Edythe!" But the chime sounded again, drowning out my voice.

She was there. I saw her, standing just on the periphery between the deep shadows and the brilliant sunlight. Even at such a dire moment, with death perhaps seconds away, I couldn't help but marvel. That such beauty, such perfection, could exist in this world.

Edythe's eyes were closed, her head tilted back toward the sky and a slight smile on her lips. In spite of the dark rings beneath her eyes, she looked at peace, serene and perfectly content. Her hands were spread apart, palms up, as though anticipating the feeling of the sunlight on her skin. Her arms were bare, and I recognized the sleeveless white shirt she was wearing, the same one she had worn on that fateful trip to our meadow. Her gray jacket lay on the ground a few feet away. The light reflected from the pavement of the square set her skin to glimmering faintly in the shadows.

As I laid eyes on her, all the uncertainty I had carried for months faded to nothing, and I realized again what I had known from that first day after coming back from Port Angeles. It didn't matter how she felt about me—she was the only one I wanted, and nothing would ever change that.

The clock tolled again, the great and terrible sound shutting out everything else. And Edythe, eyes still closed, took a small step toward the light.

"Don't!" I shouted again. I forced my voice box up as loud as it would go, until I felt like my vocal cords would break in my throat. "I'm right here—Don't do it, Edythe!"

Edythe didn't appear to hear me, and she let out a breathe like a contented sigh. She raised one foot delicately to take that last step into the sun.

I slammed into her with the force of a football tackle. An ordinary person would have been thrown halfway back down the alleyway, knocked senseless, but it was like running into a pillar of stone. My jaw connected hard with her collarbone, and my arms whipped around both sides of her so fast that for a moment I was certain they would both be dislocated.

I started to fall back, but her small hand reached up automatically to my back, holding me in place.

The clock tolled again, and her dark eyes slowly slid open, then flickered down to me.

"Oh," she said, the word coming out as a blissful sigh, and her gaze was the vague, faraway gaze of a sleepwalker. "I don't believe it. Carine was right after all."

I managed to find the strength to straighten, though my jaw and the upper half of my torso where I'd hit ached like mad. I gripped both her shoulders. "Edythe, you've got to get back. Right this second. Move, Edythe—move!"

I pressed hard, trying to push her back a few steps, then when that didn't work, I swerved around behind her, wrapping and arm around her waist and seizing her by the shoulder, pushing with my legs with all my might as I tried to drag her back, but she was as immovable as a granite statue.

Edythe didn't seem to take any notice of what I was doing, and she sighed again. Her slender fingers reached down to the hand I had around her waist, and her fingernails gently traced the bones of each of my knuckles.

"I always wondered what death would be like," she mused. "It was certainly faster and more painless than I expected. I suppose I have Sulpicia to thank for that. She seemed more humane than I expected...in some ways, at least."

She reached up to stroke my face, her hard palm icy against my bruised jaw, but just as gentle as I remembered. She leaned her head back against my chest, and she turned her head slightly in my direction, breathing in.

"Ah," she sighed. "And you still you smell the same as always. Perhaps this is hell after all—My own, specially prepared version. Eternal damnation to the fire and brimstone of your irresistible blood." She turned her head a little further, then inhaled deeply, drawing in my scent again. "Lovely," she murmured. "I accept."

"Yo," I said loudly, letting go of her waist and snapping my fingers in her face. "Earth to Edythe. Wake up, I'm not dead, and neither are you—We've got to get out of here, your friends the Volturi could be here any second."

Edythe opened her eyes, and tilted her head back to peer up at me. "Hmm?" she said, frowning slightly. "What was that?"

"The Volturi," I repeated, desperately. "We're not dead yet, but we might be soon if we don't move it."

Edythe stared up at me, and her eyes suddenly widened.

Her trance-like state was dispelled in an instant, and she spun, one of her bare ivory arms coming around to shove me back, pushing me against the brick wall. Her arm remained raised in front of me, keeping me back, as she turned her back to me, facing into the alleyway. She bent in an automatic defensive crouch in front of me.

I stared over her head, and I watched as two dark figures silently emerged from the deep shadows.

Edythe took a silent breath, then forced herself to straighten, though she carefully kept herself between me and the pair of them.

"Ah," she said, smiling pleasantly, though there was an undercurrent of tension. "Cato, Tacita...How nice it is to run into you again. However, as you can see, it seems there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. I won't be needing your assistance after all. But please pass along my regards and sincerest apologies for the inconvenience to your mistress, won't you?"

Both of the dark figures were dressed in a long dark cloaks, the hoods pulled up so I couldn't see their features.

"I'm afraid you will have to come with us," said a quiet male voice. It was polite, almost gentle, but filled with absolute certainty. There was no room for argument.

"I have broken no laws that I'm aware of, Cato," Edythe said lightly. She seemed to consider, then added, "But if Sulpicia wishes an audience with me, I will be glad to see her." She waved a hand vaguely in my direction, and without looking at me said almost offhandedly, "Beau, why don't you return to the square and enjoy the festivities? I will find you later."

"I don't think so." This was from the second figure, a female voice this time. Tacita, I guessed. Unlike the male, she had a voice that, for all its lilting, velvet beauty, hissed like a snake, forceful and unrelenting. "You know our full orders, mind-reader, and the boy shall come. These games do you no favors, especially when you are well aware that you have indeed violated our laws—the most important law of all."

Edythe stood in front of me, rigid, and I saw in the tension in her shoulders that she was ready for a fight.

"You must see that we are not your enemies," Cato said softly. "Cooperate, and no harm will come to you."

"And what about him?" Edythe said, gesturing to me, voice still polite, but with just a hint of menace. "Does Sulpicia guarantee his safety?"

The female, Tacita, hissed. Her dark red eyes blazed beneath her hood. "We guarantee you nothing," she said in a low, cold voice like silk. "You are a dangerous element, Edythe Cullen. A menace driven by overwrought, misplaced passions. If it were left up to me, I would say that one such as you should not be allowed to live—and your human pet either."

"If you're looking for a fight, Tacita, why don't you just say so?" Edythe suggested pleasantly, though her eyes were hard.

Tacita again hissed, and she bent like a jaguar ready to spring. "Have it your way," she said, and her purr of a voice came out as a snarl.

However, both Edythe and the two Volturi froze, and their eyes turned back, into the darkness of the winding alleyway.

"Fight in the middle of a back alley? Really? Please, ladies, let's show some class."

Archie appeared around a bend of the network of alleyways, coming around behind Tacita and Cato, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. Abruptly, the two Volturi guards were at a disadvantage—even in numbers, but forced to fight on two sides.

This seemed to occur to Tacita, and even though Cato had a significant size advantage on both Edythe and Archie, she slowly straightened, though her expression was sour.

I glanced back at the sunlit courtyard again, and noticed we were drawing some attention from a few onlookers. The family I'd passed earlier was staring at us, as well as a few others. The guards seemed to notice this, too.

"Please," said Cato in a even, but reasonable voice, "there is no need for these theatrics. We simply request that you accompany us, and the boy as well. Lady Sulpicia bears you no ill will. She has no wish for us to fight."

"I will come with you," Edythe said in a low voice. "But he stays here."

"I'm afraid those were not Lady Sulpicia's orders," said Cato politely.

"Then you are asking for a fight," Edythe said softly, back bending, lips pulling back over her teeth.

Tacita didn't look at all disappointed, and though her mouth didn't smile, her eyes gleamed with anticipation. She muttered to her partner, "You take the one back there—I will take the girl."

Cato seemed hesitant. "Lady Sulpicia will not be pleased..."

"This one has given us no choice," said Tacita, staring at Edythe hard. "She will understand."

"Come and get me, Tacita," Edythe taunted softly.

I was very conscious of the fact that Edythe was intentionally inciting a couple of guards for what essentially amounted to the vampire royal family. When it came to human royalty, or presidents, or dictators, or whatever—when they selected their guards, they usually got to pick from the best of the best. These two were probably among the most elite fighters the vampire world had to offer. I felt suddenly queasy—had I just saved Edythe only for us all to get killed in a fight with these Volturi guards?

However, before anyone could move, a low, cold voice cut through the dead, back alley air.

"That's enough."

A third figure in a dark cloak appeared around the bend of the alley, just behind Archie. This one I noticed was significantly smaller, even smaller than Archie.

By now, my eyes were pretty well adjusted to the dark shadows of the alley, and I was able to make out the face of the figure even under the hood. He was surprisingly young, a kid really, small and slight. He had a pretty kind of face, so even though his soft brown hair cut was cut short, he almost could have passed as a girl. His dull crimson eyes were just visible in the gloom.

The moment he appeared, Tacita immediately relaxed her hostile posture, stepping quickly aside and standing erect and stiff, not unlike a soldier at attention for the arrival of a general.

Edythe's posture too slackened, her arms falling to her sides, and I saw her shoulders sag with defeat.

I glanced at her, startled, then looked at Archie across the way, who was frowning slightly. Edythe and Archie hadn't seemed the least intimidated by the two Volturi guards, even Tacita, who moved with a kind of eerie fluidity and obviously wanted us dead, but this kid had made everyone stop cold.

It was Tacita, who looked almost as tense as Edythe and Archie, who spoke first.

"Jonathan," she said stiffly.

The boy didn't even spare Tacita a glance. "Follow me," he said, his young voice devoid of emotion, and he turned around and drifted like a ghost back into the shadows.

Tacita watched as Jonathan turned away, and I noticed her mouth was pressed in a thin line, a reluctant wariness.

Cato gestured politely for us to go first. "After you, please," he said.

Edythe slipped an arm securely around my waist, and drew me forward to join Archie. Together, the three of us followed the kid. As the alleyway grew narrower, the pathway angled down. The two Volturi guards followed behind us, though I couldn't hear the sound of their footsteps on the stone.

"Well," Edythe said casually in a low voice, barely a murmur. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here, Archie."

"Sorry," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "Guess this one's all kind of on me. I had to do something to try to fix the mess."

"What happened exactly?" Edythe asked softly, as though simply making polite conversation.

"Long story," murmured Archie. "He definitely did jump from the cliff. Apparently it wasn't suicide, though. Beau my man has developed a taste for extreme sports."

Edythe pursed her lips, and I had a feeling Archie was telling her a lot more with his thoughts than he was speaking aloud. I was sure werewolves and psychotic vampires out for revenge figured high on the list.

"I see," she said after a moment, and her tone was no longer light.

The alleyway continued to slant downward, and Jonathan turned right at a fork, which took us around a slight curve. A moment later we hit a dead end, a solid brick wall. I looked around. In the moment the kid had gone from our sight, he seemed to have disappeared.

Archie kept going, and it was then I noticed a black hole, like a drain, in the middle of the ground. The grate had been pushed partially aside. Archie took a quick step forward, and a moment later disappeared through into the depths below.

As soon as I saw it, I swallowed hard and felt sweat break out on my palms.

Edythe reached out and took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Don't worry," she murmured. "Archie will break your fall."

"I'm not afraid," I lied, as I stared anxiously down into the black hole before. Then I added, "Archie, man, you there?"

"Sure am," he replied, but to my dismay, his echoing voice came from far too below to be very reassuring. "Any time you feel like."

Swallowing again, I got down beside the hole, swinging my legs over the side. As I took a firm grip on the side and carefully lowered myself down, I immediately felt the change in temperature, as I went from the relatively warm air of the street above to the cold of the underground. I let myself hang there for a minute, gripping the edge until my arms burned. I took a deep breath, then let go.

The fall was short, much shorter than my jump from the cliff. The cold air whipped around me for a second before I hit hard against what felt like a pair of iron rods. Archie tipped me onto my feet and I swayed unsteadily a minute, a little dizzy, and rubbed the back of my legs and my back, the sore points of impact.

Edythe landed lightly beside me, but before I could let myself be relieved at the reunion, we were already moving again, Edythe tugging me swiftly forward. My still wet sneakers squelched on the uneven stones, and I swallowed as I heard the metallic clang of the grate being pushed back into place. We marched on, until the light from the street above was far behind us.

Edythe had one arm secured around my waist, using it to pull me along even when I nearly tripped on the slick stones. The other was on my hand, tracing the bony protrusions of my knuckles, all the way down to my wrist and back up to the tips of my fingers. Every now and again, she she would press her face close to my chest and breathe in deeply.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew what was probably going to happen, why Edythe had been so determined that we not go here. I was a human, walking right into the heart of a lair of vampires. One plus one.

Still, I tried to take what comfort I could in what would probably be our last moments. I was with Edythe again. I loved the affectionate way her fingers traced over mine, and the way she kept inhaling my scent as though to make sure it was real. I knew what she must be feeling—so relieved, that she had not been the cause of my death, that she had not caused me to take my own life after all.

I sighed, wrapping my arm around her slender shoulders. If we somehow survived this, I would have to talk to her about that—talk some sense into that overly noble mind. Something like this could never be allowed to happen again.

If we survived. Which, as I stared straight ahead and we continued to descend into the darkness, two cloaked, crimson-eyed vampires behind us, one in front, I very much doubted.

Slowly, the deep blackness of the tunnel began to lighten, and I was able to see above our heads a low, arched ceiling. My clothes were still wet, and I was shivering at the cold. Edythe noticed, and tried to let go of me, but I kept a firm grip on her shoulder.

We hurried down the tunnel, or it felt like hurrying to me, until we reached a giant, rusting iron grate. In the grate was a small door of weaving, interlacing bars, and it stood open for us. Edythe pulled me through, and we went on to a large, brighter stone room beyond. I heard the grille slam shut behind us with a heavy, reverberating clang, and a lock was snapped into place.

On the opposite end of the room was a thick wooden door, which had also been left open for us invitingly.

Like a trap, I thought, then shivered again as we passed through the door.