Was it really such a loathsome idea? Would he rather die than change me? I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach.
Edward stared down at me with a tortured expression. And then Alice stepped away from us, forward toward Aro. We turned to watch her. Her hand was raised like his.
She didn't say anything, and Aro waved off his anxious guard as they moved to block her approach. Aro met her halfway, and took her hand with an eager, acquisitive glint in his eyes. He bent his head over their touching hands, his eyes closing as he concentrated. Alice was motionless, her face blank. I heard Edward's teeth snap together.
No one moved. Aro seemed frozen over Alice's hand. The seconds passed and I grew more and more stressed, wondering how much time would pass before it was too much time. Before it meant something was wrong–more wrong than it already was.
Another agonizing moment passed, and then Aro's voice broke the silence. "Ha, ha, ha," he laughed, his head still bent forward. He looked up slowly, his eyes bright with excitement. "That was fascinating!"
Alice smiled dryly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." "To see the things you've seen–especially the ones that haven't happened yet!" He shook his head in wonder. "But that will," she reminded him, voice calm. "Yes, yes, it's quite determined. Certainly there's no problem." Caius looked bitterly disappointed–a feeling he seemed to share with Felix and Jane. "Aro," Caius complained.
"Dear Caius," Aro smiled. "Do not fret. Think of the possibilities! They do not join us today, but we can always hope for the future. Imagine the joy young Alice alone would bring to our little household… Besides, I'm so terribly curious to see how Bella turns out!"
Aro seemed convinced. Did he not realize how subjective Alice's visions were.' That she could make up her mind to transform me today, and then change it tomorrow? A million tiny decisions, her decisions and so many others', too–Edward's–could alter her path, and with that, the future.
And would it really matter that Alice was willing, would it make any difference if I did become a vampire, when the idea was so repulsive to Edward? If death was, to him, a better alternative than having me around forever, an immortal annoyance? Terrified as I was, I felt myself sinking down into depression, drowning in it…
"Then we are free to go now?" Edward asked in an even voice.
"Yes, yes," Aro said pleasantly. "But please visit again. It's been absolutely enthralling!"
"And we will visit you as well," Caius promised, his eyes suddenly half-closed like the heavy-lidded gaze of a lizard. "To be sure that you follow through on your side. Were I you, I would not delay too long. We do not offer second chances."
Edward's jaw clenched tight, but he nodded once.
Caius smirked and drifted back to where Marcus still sat, unmoving and uninterested. Felix groaned.
"Ah, Felix." Aro smiled, amused. "Heidi will be here at any moment. Patience."
"Hmm." Edward's voice had a new edge to it. "In that case, perhaps we'd better leave sooner rather than later."
"Yes," Aro agreed. "That's a good idea. Accidents do happen. Please wait below until after dark, though, if you don't mind."
"Of course," Edward agreed, while I cringed at the thought of waiting out the day before we could escape.
"And here," Aro added, motioning to Felix with one finger. Felix came forward at once, and Aro unfastened the gray cloak the huge vampire wore, pulling from his shoulders. He tossed it to Edward. "Take this. You're a little conspicuous."
Edward put the long cloak on, leaving the hood down.
Aro sighed. "It suits you."
Edward chuckled, but broke off suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. "Thank you, Aro. We'll wait below."
"Goodbye, young friends," Aro said, his eyes bright as he stared in the same direction. "Let's go," Edward said, urgent now.
Demetri gestured that we should follow, and then set off the way we'd come in, the only exit by the look of things.
Edward pulled me swiftly along beside him. Alice was close by my other side, her face hard. "Not fast enough," she muttered.
I stared up at her, frightened, but she only seemed chagrined. It was then that I first heard the babble of voices–loud, rough voices–coming from the antechamber.
"Well this is unusual," a man's coarse voice boomed.
"So medieval," an unpleasantly shrill, female voice gushed back.
A large crowd was coming through the little door, filling the smaller stone chamber. Demetri motioned for us to make room. We pressed back against the cold wall to let them pass. The couple in front, Americans from the sound of them, glanced around themselves with appraising eyes.