Descending Star

TESSERACT

Not far from the giant carved double doors, Jane fixed her expression in puzzlement and said to Ben, "To err is human, I know. But you're a smart one. How were you ever taken in and hoodwinked by the evil white haired witch, Cythæra?"

This question confirmed Ben's suspicion, that his late June interview with Colleen had something to do with his kidnapping from the center of the meadow.

He told her, "I wasn't hoodwinked. Though she tried hard enough to use me."

"How?" Jane asked.

"She wished me to send a message to Edythe Cullen."

"Oh, her," Jane muttered, irritated by the incursion of Little Miss Perfect into their thread. "Did you convey Cythæra's message?"

"No. I refused."

Jane wore a look of astonishment, a child seated on the front row of a circus, awed by the clowns and dancing bears. "And the witch didn't burn your heart out from inside, as you stood?"

Ben blinked; he shuddered; he thought about it. He finally admitted, "I think that maybe she did."

Jane sighed and traded a sullen glance with her twin brother.

Alec shook his head and said, "Well, come along Benjamin Swan. You'll be treated much better here, we promise you."

Jane nodded avidly, and all three passed through the grandly ornate doors.

The twins ushered Ben into the most grisly room yet, another vast circular rotunda, and he fixed his gaze straight ahead, on the crucifix of giant segmented cubes that hung by enormous chain links over the expansive gilt dais. He focused on the cross to spare himself the view of the encircling columns, with their high plinths, each golden pedestal decorated by a living man or woman, gruesomely vivisected, many still possessed of operable vocal cords, which they used to no productive effect whatsoever. Vampires mingled and strolled by twos and threes all over the room, but Ben focused on just one. He broke into an unrestrained run across the floor of tiled birds and bellowed, as he converged, "You!"

Poor Jane and Alec were so shocked by their guest's unprovoked fury that they needed a moment to recover and coordinate, which they did, and they soon caught up, just as Victor, both satiated and sedate, arose out of his cast iron chair, hair afire, with bloodstains running from his chin all the way to his loins.

"Swan?" he asked. "Swan!"

"This explains everything," Ben hissed, utterly incensed, despite his peril.

Laughter and solitary applause came from the center of the high dais. Ben whirled and noticed the three ancient rulers of the world for the first time: a blond one that sneered from underneath dusty shrouds; another one petrified to his chair, ashen from top to bottom apart from his wide open, bloody mouth, and then the one that clapped, just as old as the others, cauled and veiled himself, yet paradoxically exuberant, as though every moment of this existence conferred fresh wonders.

"Nothing in life pleases me more than the amicable reunion of friends," Aro praised.

Jane and Alec glanced doubtfully between Benjamin Swan and confounded Victor.

Ben hissed, "He's no friend of mine. Is this where I die? Get on with it."

"Die? Die? Who on earth told you that, friend Swan? I shall have words with Gianna."

"We already have," Alec promised.

"Good, good. You're a blessing and a comfort, Alec. Friend Swan, pay this gentleman no mind. Our new friend Victor is just finishing dinner. I hope you had a pleasant trip. Tell me, did you enjoy the Tufted Quail?"