Dreaming Of You

Dreaming of You

Part 11 - White As Snow

Chapter 20

When you feel all alone

And a loyal friend is hard to find

You're caught in a one-way street

With the monsters in your head

"This is where the vampires live?" Erin asked in surprise. "I didn't expect anything so... well, so pretty."

Remus didn't say anything. Of course, he could have told her that vampires liked the forests because the sunlight had to filter through the tree branches to get to them... but he hadn't spoken to her since immediately after he'd kissed her yesterday. He'd thought about trying to break the silence with trivial comments, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"It is pretty here," Lianne admitted. Of all of them, she was having the worst time of it, trying to get into the deep woods. "But I really think I wouldn't mind defacing nature, just a little, if it meant a nice paved road."

At least there was a path. Remus hadn't expected even that much, but he supposed humans came here from time to time. The path was probably made for the benefit of the French Aurors. Not many other people would use a path where one of the upcoming forks led to a werewolf clan, the other to a vampire tribe.

Miache would meet them at the fork in the road, and guide the two women on from there. Apparently, there were some places humans couldn't pass without a vampire's aid. Remus would then go on alone, to try to talk his way into the wolf clan.

I wish I had a better idea what I was going to say, he thought. He'd gotten about as far as "Hi, I'm Remus Lupin," before reaching a complete blank. He had some vague ideas of asking for the wolf who'd bitten him, or some such, but he was mostly depending on a sudden brilliant flash of inspiration. Which did not appear to be forthcoming.

"So, you've got your mirrors?" Lianne asked again.

"In my purse," Erin confirmed.

Remus just nodded with a sigh. The mirrors, as Lianne would insist on calling them, were not in fact mirrors. They were communications devices, a very thin sheet of ice encased in glass with four tiny crystals meant to face in each of the cardinal directions. Dumbledore had produced them from somewhere in his house, before the meeting had ended, so that the three could keep in touch with each other, as well as with Dumbledore himself. Eventually, they'd have to figure out a way to meet in person, but the enchantment on the ice would serve till then.

"So you're bound and determined not to talk, then, are you?" Lianne said conversationally, as the silence grew too long. Remus didn't respond, but he did notice Erin starting to turn red. "You're being very rude."

"Lianne, don't," Erin tried to interrupt.

"Well, he is," Li insisted. "He's throwing a temper tantrum."

Remus glared at her, but there wasn't much he could say to that. He supposed he was throwing a tantrum, or at least coming closer to it than he had in years. But he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't act like things were just normal - everyone knew they weren't, and he was a terrible actor anyway. And he didn't dare try to talk it over with Erin. He was sure she couldn't possibly be in love with him - she'd known him less than two weeks! - but he was horribly afraid she'd confused herself into thinking she was. A teenage crush wouldn't have been so bad - except that he still liked her, quite a lot. And if she kissed him again, he didn't know if he'd be able to keep himself from responding.

So he just refused to deal with her. He didn't see any other choice. She'd get over it, and so would he, with time. And if it made Lianne think he was acting like a five-year-old... well, that was just a price he had to pay.

Remus was so deep in his thoughts he didn't even notice they'd reached the fork in the road until Miache's voice stopped him.

"Vell, vell, you are early. I did not expect you for fifteen minutes yet." The vampire, lounging against the sign marking the beginnings of the two new trails, stood out from her surroundings very distinctly. Her long hair was the only bright thing about her, a deep striking scarlet that was closer to the color of fresh blood than the usual carrot red of hair. Her skin was still unnaturally pale, and she wore a shimmering white dress that had to be enchanted to stay clean. Remus wondered briefly if the skin color was fake; she wore enough other makeup. Her eyes were done up with heavy eyeliner and mascara, and her mouth was a glinting black.

Apparently, she noticed him staring. "Vhen at 'ome, I prefer to dress somevhat more traditionally," she said, smiling just enough to show her fangs. "Perhaps you vould razzer come vith me to ze vampires now?"

"No, thank you!" Remus didn't mean to sound as alarmed as he did, and promptly blushed. Miache frightened him a little, he had to admit. He could just about take her without the makeup, dressed relatively normally. But this way... he was just glad he was going in the opposite direction.

"Bye, then, Remus." Lianne, to his surprise, came over to give him a hug goodbye. "You be careful, ok?"

"You, too, Li. Sirius'll never forgive me if I don't bring you back in one piece." Remus smiled at her, both gently teasing and warning. He was pretty sure he didn't need to worry too much about Erin - not that he'd let that stop him - but Lianne often had difficulties with things like common sense. She was the one who was more likely to do something stupid.

"I'll be fine, Remus, don't worry." She smiled one last time, then stepped aside.

Remus froze as Erin hesitantly approached. "Bye, Remus," she said, after an awkward pause. "Um... be careful."

"You too." Remus paused warily, but she didn't seem to be about to say anything more. "I'll see you when we leave, then."

"Yeah. See you." Erin turned to go. Then she turned back and darted forward. Her lips touched his cheek, just for a moment, before she stepped away. He was still wondering what to say when Miache, grinning broadly, led the two women away down the right hand path.

Eventually, he shook himself, and started down the left fork. This was not the time to get distracted. He should be planning what he would say to be let into the clan's land. He should be thinking about the best way to get to speak with the alpha male. He shouldn't be thinking about Erin's shy smile of parting, or the feel of her soft lips against his cheek, or how warm her body had felt in his arms yesterday, or -

"Will you stop already? Honestly, what part of 'halt' don't you understand?"

Remus snapped out of his daze, cursing himself for not noticing the sentry. "I'm very sorry," he apologized, quickly summoning up his French skills to reply in the same language he'd been addressed. "I'm afraid I had... other things on my mind."

"I noticed," the man said dryly. "Who are you, and what do you want with the Ganrou Clan?"

"I'm Remus Lupin," he told the other man - the other werewolf, he suddenly knew. "And I've come here from England to - um - see how the more wild wolves live."

It wasn't much of an explanation, and Remus wasn't sure the guard believed him. "Right..." he said, suspicion still showing in his eyes. "So you're a city wolf, then?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Remus wondered if he'd be called upon to prove it, and how he'd go about doing so.

"Well, that's not my business, so long as you aren't a vampire," the sentry said with a shrug. "Keep on going down the path. You'll come to a wall, with a large door. Open it, and ask the guard on the other side for whatever it is you need."

Remus nodded, and continued on. The sentry hadn't done much to keep him out, in his opinion... but maybe he was allowed to let other werewolves in. Or maybe he was just meant to make sure the vampires didn't try a surprise attack. Who knew?

And there were surely more sentries that Remus hadn't noticed. Maybe they were going ahead, to warn whoever was at the gate of Remus's arrival. Werewolves, as Remus knew, were a suspicious lot, and didn't like to be taken unawares.

He was still pondering this when he reached the wall the sentry had spoken of. It was a very good wall, in that it made clear the purpose for which it had been built - to keep something inside and something else outside. This is ours, the wall seemed to say, and that is yours. There was no arguing with this wall. It didn't have any decorative carvings, or hanging plants, or other ornaments. It had two sides, and nothing else.

Well... there was, or course, the door. It was a rather large door, when Remus took a good look at it, but compared to the wall, it didn't look very big at all. He only learned the truth when he approached, and found that the bottom of the handle was level with his head.

Remus swallowed hard. This had the definite feeling of a test. Werewolves did have superhuman strength, but wasn't this pushing it? Just a little?

Apparently not. Squaring his jaw, Remus reached up to grab the handle and pulled. The door was heavy, heavier than anything he'd ever tried to move, but he could just about manage it. Certainly no non-wolf could have. The door was inching open, towards him, and he pulled harder, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He only needed to get it open part of the way, just enough to slip through.

But when he finally got it far enough, and moved to enter, the door started moving back into place. Remus grabbed at it, feeling like he was about to cry. Was it some sort of trick these wild wolves were playing on a city-born? How was he supposed to hold the thing open and get through it?

Then, to his amazement, Remus felt some of the weight lift from him. Another guard was leaning against the open door, and gestured for Remus to enter.

"Welcome in, brother," he said, letting the door close behind Remus. "I'm told you are a city werewolf?"

"Er - yes," Remus agreed. Well, he'd just proved it, hauling that awful door open. But he wasn't used to blurting out his nature every other moment. It was a little disconcerting.

"And do you wish to join our clan?" the gate guard asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not exactly." Remus paused, hoping that sounded all right. "Well, I mean, maybe. Eventually. I just wanted to see what the wild wolves were like."

The sentry shrugged. "If you like. You want to talk to Ferox Alpha, then. You can't wander around here without his permission. Especially not now." Remus didn't need to ask to know the sentry referred to the feud with the vampires.

"How do I go about seeing - Ferox, you said?" Remus asked.

"That's easy enough." The sentry pointed forwards. "The alpha male always lives in the center of the clan. Just follow any path long enough, it'll lead you to him."

"Thank you," Remus said politely. "I'll go now, then."

The guard didn't seem to care, one way or the other, so Remus shrugged and began following the path. As he went, he collected some rather odd looks from the passing werewolves. And much as he tried to avoid it, he found himself giving them strange looks of his own.

Remus hadn't realized that wolves in the wild would dress so differently from what he was used to, in the human world. When he thought about it, he supposed it made sense for a werewolf to wear the skins of animals he or she had killed. After all, hunting was part of a wolf's nature. But that didn't stop the shock he felt when he saw men wearing only fur loincloths, and women wearing the same with an added band around their breasts. The sentries had worn more clothing, to expose less of their flesh to the surrounding woods, but the ordinary wolves - it seemed almost indecent.

Of course, they seemed to think the same thing of his robes. Adults gave him disapproving glares, as though he ought to know better, while the teenagers sniggered as he passed. Some of the small children laughed and pointed outright.

All in all, it was not the most pleasant walk he'd ever had, and Remus was very relieved to find the Alpha's dwelling at last. Recognizing the Greek symbol engraved above the stone door, he waited a moment to see if he was to be challenged, then knocked.

A young girl - nine, perhaps - opened the door. "Who are you?"

"Um... Remus Lupin." He was thrown off a little, being greeted by a child, rather than an adult. "May I ask who - "

"I'm Alacra Alphasdaughter, of course!" She laughed, as a child does when she sees an adult knows less than she. "Are you that wolf who's just got here from the city? Um... Rebus?"

"Remus," he corrected. "I'm Remus Lupin. I think I'd like to speak with your father, if he isn't too busy."

"Oh, Papa's ever so busy," Alacra replied. "But he said he'd see you in just a minute."

"Oh - he knows I'm here?" Remus was unsure whether or not this was a good thing.

"Sure. My Papa knows everything," she said proudly. "But you have to wait a little bit first. He's very busy."

"That will be fine," Remus told her. "I don't mind waiting."

"Good." Alacra grabbed his hand. "Come on, you have to wait in the special room!"

Remus found himself being dragged behind the exceptionally strong little girl to the "special room" - which turned out to be nothing more than a waiting room. A group of women stood impatiently around a door, clearly waiting for someone to come out of it, while a sullen teenager scowled from the corner.

Alacra skipped over to him. "Hi, Laney!" she exclaimed brightly, in what Remus recognized as a Little Sister tone. "Guess what!"

"Leave me alone, Laci." Her brother turned away to face the wall.

"There's a city wolf visiting us!"

"I don't care." The boy - no, Remus realized, not boy; he was in his late teens, but the haunted look in his eyes wasn't that of a child - the young man closed his eyes and seemed to go to sleep.

Alacra, however, wasn't fooled. She grabbed his hand, much as she had grabbed Remus's, and literally dragged him to his feet. "Papa says you have to be polite," she said reproachfully. "You have to greet all the people who come see him, same as me."

"Maybe I don't want to," her brother snapped. "Maybe I think the whole system is biased against our family! Oh, why do I bother," he grumbled, as his little sister looked blank, and rather bored with what was evidently a familiar rant. "You don't even understand what I'm saying." He leaned back on his heels, surveying Remus with far too much cynicism for so young a person. "So what brings you to this hellhole, anyway?"

"I got tired of the city," Remus said absently, a realization hitting him. "Er - do I have the honor of addressing Delaney Alphasson?"

"The same," the teenager said with a bleak grin. "I'd rather be called Lane, but most people seem to prefer my other nicknames. You know, monster-lover, freak, traitor, and so on. Seems just a tad hypocritical to me, but hey, I'm only seventeen, what do I know?"

"Well - I think I prefer Lane, as well," Remus said, taken aback at Lane's bluntness. So this was the young man who'd fallen in love with the vampire princess? He looked deceptively normal. In fact, he made Remus think of what he himself could have been at that age - if he hadn't had the other three Marauders.

"Ah, you'll change your mind soon enough." Lane shrugged, as though Remus's opinion didn't matter anyway. Just one more raindrop in the middle of the storm. "So you decided to come visit us out here in the dregs of civilization?"

"Oh, it can't be that bad - " Remus began.

"So you say." Lane snorted. "Trust me, don't waste your time here. Get out while you have the chance, or they'll brainwash you like all the other half-animal drones they've got."

"They?" Remus asked delicately.

"Clan leaders," Lane explained, clearly more than happy to express his views on the rural wolven government. "They all think it's still the Middle Ages, and that they're all feudal lords or something. Tithes, I can understand. They've got to trade with the humans, after all. But they keep everyone so oppressed we can't even go outside the damn wall without a good reason!"

"Well, you are at war," Remus pointed out.

"You think the battle with the vampires started that?" Lane stared at Remus in disbelief. "You don't know much about us, do you? It's always been this way! And they won't change, because that's how they've always done it! It's traditional to brand slave markings on the poor people who can't afford to pay their tithes! It's traditional to kill in the bloodiest way possible, never mind how painful it is for the poor animals, just because we're smarter and stronger than them; traditional to slice girls' palms open when they come into womanhood; traditional to try to murder each other every full moon instead of trying to keep the smaller people, the children, safe from the bullies' basest instincts! Everything is done for no good reason, except it's so ingrained in the leaders' brains that their thinking couldn't deviate from it if they tried!"

"Laney, you know Papa doesn't like it when you yell like that," Alacra scolded, with a nervous glance towards the doorway. "You'll get in trouble."

"Good!" Lane shouted. "I don't care if I get in trouble! What more can they do to me than they've already done? Take my advice, man!" He turned on Remus in a rage. "Run while you still have the will to do it! Run as fast and as far as you can, back to your city, back to your home! I'd go with you, if I could. Run, and never come back!"

"Delaney! That is more than enough out of you!" The silence after Lane's outburst was broken by a tall, powerfully built man striding into the room, thunderbolts in his eyes. "Go to your den immediately. I will be there to deal with you when my business here is finished."

"Don't I have to wait and greet your precious guests?" Lane sneered.

"Delaney Julius Alphasson, you will go to your den now!" his father bellowed.

Lane gave an unimpressed smirk, and stalked out of the room. "Remember what I said, city wolf," he called, before passing out of earshot. "Run while you still can!"

The man rolled his eyes. "Teenagers," he said apologetically to Remus. "Take no notice of him. The boy's simply going through a... rough time." He held out a hand, and Remus shook, wincing for the first time in his life at the strength of the grip. "I'm Ferox Alpha. You're Remus Lupin, visiting from the city. Come into the main room."

Remus followed Ferox into the room the alpha had come out of. It was large, considering the size of the clan, but nowhere near the Great Hall of Hogwarts, for example. Two men sat in hewn wooden seats, while Ferox went straight to the majestic throne between them. A woman, presumably Ferox's mate, sat unobtrusively off to one side.

"Well, Lupin, this is Darren Huntmaster," Ferox pointed to the man on the left, who wore somewhat more furs than the rest, "and Jonas Trademaster," the man on the right, who had a small ring pierced through one ear. "We are the three leaders currently hearing out complaints. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um..." Remus looked at each of the leaders, trying to think quickly. "I've always been curious about the way werewolves live away from cities," he said, figuring that part, at least, was true. "And I just got really tired of living among all those humans, and having to drink that disgusting potion every month so I won't hurt any of them."

"But why here?" the Trademaster asked, narrowing his eyes. "You're British; why not choose a British clan? I believe Anglia is still in existence, is it not?"

"Well, yes," Remus agreed slowly. "But I wanted to come here, you see."

"Any particular reason?" Ferox wanted to know. "You must be aware we are preparing for battle."

"Well..." Remus debated whether or not to tell them about the Aurors' offer of an alliance. From the angry glimmerings in the alpha's eye at his son's behavior, he rather thought it might not be the best time. "I did know about the battle, actually. And that was... was part of the reason I chose here. I don't like vampires, you see."

Well... it was only a white lie. Remus didn't really have anything personal against vampires. He hated the ones who sucked human blood, of course, but more than anything he felt sorry for them. Not that he trusted them, of course. He wasn't an idiot. But he did feel pity for them.

"And you want to help fight them?" Darren's grin had a feral edge. "Can't say I blame you. Nasty old bloodsuckers, aren't they?"

"Um... I suppose," Remus said. "I'm not sure I want to stay here, though. I might decide I don't mind the city so much, after all."

The leaders all exchanged glances. "Hopefully that will not be the case," Ferox said. "We could use someone with knowledge of humans, and how their minds work. But you have to be the one to decide."

"Then... I can stay?" Remus asked.

"Unless you do something stupid," the Trademaster replied. "But you don't look the type to do stupid things, Lupin."

"You can come with me," Darren said, standing up. "It's time for me to organize a hunt, anyway. And if you're staying with us, you can't wear those rags."

Remus looked down at his robes somewhat indignantly. They were a little worn - all right, a lot worn - but they didn't qualify as rags yet! But he didn't say anything. After all, he figured, when in Rome.

~*~

"You want me to do... what?" Remus stared at the Huntmaster, certain he'd heard wrong.

"Throw the spear at one of the wolves," Darren snapped impatiently. "It isn't hard, you know!"

"But - they're wolves," Remus said blankly. "They're like us - "

"They're not like us," Darren cut him off abruptly. "We are werewolves. They are animals. Filthy, mangy, cowardly animals. And you are going to kill one."

"No. I can't." Remus tried to hand the spear back to the Huntmaster, who only smirked. "I can't," he insisted. "I like wolves!"

"So do I," Darren agreed. "Taste like chicken, but you don't get those in these forests."

Remus felt sick. Really, truly sick. This was almost as bad as vampires drinking human blood. It was cannibalism, was what it was. He'd always gotten along well with the normal wolves. They tended to like him; he didn't smell like other humans. He couldn't kill a wolf, it would be like throwing a spear at a human.

"Don't worry about it, Lupin," Darren told him. "It'll come naturally. You've got hunting instincts in you somewhere. When push comes to shove, the wolf inside will come out."

That's what I'm afraid of, Remus thought gloomily.

~*~

"Well, I suppose it isn't your fault you can't aim worth a damn," Darren said with a shrug, as they returned to the clan with the rest of the hunt. "At least we got a few of 'em anyway."

Remus only nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth, the sight of the dead wolf with its stomach torn open and the intestines tangled in its legs would make him ill. He'd pretended to try to hit the wolf, but he'd missed deliberately. Oh, he'd felt the instincts Darren kept talking about, urging him to tear, to kill - but he'd spent too long forcing those instincts down to give in to them on this.

"And that older male had some half-decent fur on it," the Huntmaster continued. "You can make yourself some real clothing, not that city crap." Remus only nodded again, and Darren frowned. "Don't be disappointed, city wolf," he said in what was probably meant to be an encouraging tone of voice. "I didn't hit nothing on my first hunt, and look at me now. You'll have a pretty good arm, too, once you work on that aim."

"Oh, leave the poor man alone, Darren," a woman scolded as they entered the clan's walls. "He's probably tired. Aren't you?" She turned a dazzling smile on Remus, who just shrugged. He didn't feel like dealing with anything right now except a place to lie down until his stomach was calm again.

"As you wish, Bella." Remus didn't notice Darren's slight smirk as he moved up to the front of the group, to deal with the wolves carrying the... wolf... Remus swallowed against the bile rising in his throat.

"So you're the new wolf? All the way from the city?" Despite what she'd said to the Huntmaster, Bella didn't seem to care much that Remus was tired. "You must tell me all about what it was like there."

"Perhaps another time," Remus said weakly. You'd think a werewolf would have a strong stomach, wouldn't you? But no, of course not, that would make too much sense...

"But I'd like to hear now." Bella pouted prettily, widening her already large brown eyes. "Why don't you come visit me in my den, and you can tell me there." She tried to take his arm.

"I'd really rather not," Remus said, stepping away from her. He'd finally noticed she was coming on to him, and... well, even if he'd been feeling well, that wasn't what he was here for. And anyway, what would Erin think? "I'm afraid I'm not interested. Sorry, ma'am."

He'd tried to be polite, but he wasn't very experienced with deflecting a woman's attentions. It seemed he'd said something wrong. Bella scowled in what seemed to be completely uncalled-for fury, and stomped away. Remus watched her bemusedly.

"Good move." He turned, startled, to see Lane leaning against the wall behind him. "You don't want to mess with Bella. Or with any of the women here, for that matter."

"Why not?" Remus asked.

Lane shook his head. "I can't believe you came here knowing so little about us," he said. "Yeah, I know, that's why you came in the first place, but it was still pretty stupid." He looked Remus up and down. "If you think you're going to be sick, come with me. You don't want any of them to see. They think it's a sign of weakness."

Remus followed Lane gratefully, to a place far behind the dens, but still just in the walls, where the clan's refuse was left to rot. They got there just in time, and Lane was remarkably understanding about having a grown man be sick on the ground in front of him.

When his stomach had heaved its last, Remus stood and wiped his face with his handkerchief, which he was now very glad he had actually brought. "Thank you, Lane."

"Don't worry about it." The teenager shrugged. "Same thing happens to me when they make me hunt, and I come back here. Disgusting, isn't it? The way they kill those wolves?"

"Very," Remus agreed. "Why do they?"

Lane shrugged. "If I knew that, I'd have gotten a lot farther in trying to convince them to stop. I hope you see now why I told you to go back to the city. You'd better leave now, before Bella or one of her cronies gets her claws into you."

"Excuse me?" Remus frowned.

"You were lucky earlier," Lane said. "You were more concerned with not being sick all over her than with anything else. And now that you know what to watch for - "

"I have to watch for something?" Remus blinked. "I really don't understand what you're talking about."

"Oh, that's right, you don't." Lane sighed. "Look, you know how women here have a lot less rights than men?"

"No, but go on anyway."

"Well, they do. But you aren't a member of the clan yet, so you don't have any rights. What rights you eventually get will all depend on how you're inducted."

"I think I follow you so far, but what does this have to do with that woman?" Remus wanted to know.

"Isn't it obvious?" Lane raised his eyebrows in the infuriatingly innocent manner of teenagers everywhere. "If she can convince you to be her mate, you have to become a member of the clan. And if you're her mate before you join, you're subservient to her. Once a wolf is ranked below someone, he can never get away from that person. Not till one of the two dies."

"Oh." Remus swallowed hard. "And... I suppose that she'd make me her mate by seducing me?"

"What, you expected some marriage ceremony?" Lane gave a twisted specter of a grin. "What do we look like? Humans?"

Remus sighed. "Good point. Thank you for warning me. I'd like to think nothing would have happened, but... well..."

"You never know what those women can do," Lane told him darkly. "Boys aren't clan members till they've made their first kill on their own, and you should see the way Bella and the rest throw themselves at the kids. I swear, we're a pack of barbarians. And you want to live here, rather than in a decent civilization."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I may be changing my mind very soon," Remus replied.

~*~

"I hate it here," Remus mumbled to himself, rummaging through his possessions to find that communications device. "I really, truly hate it." He couldn't think why anyone would want to live like this, let alone as many wolves as there were here.

Bad enough they make me go on that awful hunt, he thought. Bad enough they have crazy women like that Bella trying to make me some sort of slave. But this...! He could have tolerated the other things. He wouldn't like it, but he'd put up with it. But the clothes they were forcing on him... that was just going too far.

Darren had come back to find him, after Remus and Lane had come back out to the open, and dragged him off to get him "proper" clothes. Remus felt half-naked. Actually, he was half-naked. What kind of barbarians went around dressed in only a loincloth?

Scowling, Remus pointed the device so that the crystals pointed in the correct directions. He'd always known where the different compass points were, even before he'd found out that they were compass points. He just hoped Lianne and Erin managed to figure it out. The western crystal blinked scarlet, while the northern one flashed very faintly blue. Remus pressed down the western crystal, and waited.

He was about to give up and try later when the sheet of ice in the center misted over, then cleared to show Erin and Lianne, who were apparently trying to look in the same crystal.

"Oh, my stars..." Erin was staring shamelessly, eyes wide in delighted amazement. Lianne was trying - and failing - to suppress a grin.

"What - oh." Remus promptly turned red. "This is how the people dress here. They wouldn't let me keep my robes."

"I don't blame them." Erin's murmured remark made Remus blush even harder, though he pretended with all his might that he hadn't heard anything.

"Anyway." Remus cleared his throat self-consciously. "So I see you got to the vampires safely?"

"Yep," Lianne replied. "And you would not believe some of the things that have happened."

Chapter 21

When hopes and dreams are far away

And you feel like you can't face the day

"Do you think maybe I shouldn't have kissed him?" Erin looked back along the path as Miache led them towards the vampires.

"What, just now?" Lianne shrugged. "I don't know. When Remus is being difficult, there's no telling what he's thinking. James could usually guess, but - well, anyway, I don't know."

Erin nodded. That part of the past was a touchy area for Li, and not something she really wanted to go into right now. "Has he said anything to you? Anything?"

"Not to me," Lianne said. "Sirius was talking to him, though."

"And?"

"He's having the problems you'd expect. One," Lianne held up a finger, "your age. You have to admit you're a lot younger than him. Two," another finger, "the fact that he's a werewolf. He doesn't know you already know about that, and he's afraid you'll take it badly."

"Why would I?" Erin frowned. "I mean, I like him. He's the same person, wolf or not."

"Yes, well, people here don't really feel that way," Lianne reminded her. "Werewolves are dangerous. They don't usually just bite, to turn someone into their own kind. That happens maybe one time in twenty. Most werewolves kill."

"Remus wouldn't," Erin said firmly.

"Sure, Remus wouldn't," Lianne agreed. "But when he's transformed... well, that's not Remus. He never really talked to me about that, so I don't understand exactly how it works. All I know is that he's not in control of himself when he's a wolf. And that scares a lot of people."

Erin opened her mouth to say it didn't scare her... and then closed it. That was frightening. She was in love with Remus - she'd given up on denying it long ago - and that the man she loved could be so completely lost to himself once a month... it was terrifying. What if something happened, and he couldn't find himself again? There were too many awful things that could happen.

"I'm scared, too," Erin admitted at last. "But I still love him. And the werewolf thing isn't going to stop that."

"I didn't think it would," Lianne said with a grin. "But I just wanted you to think about it a minute. I mean, it's one thing to see it on paper, and know it in your head. It's something completely different when it's real. You know those years Sirius was in Azkaban? It's just maybe a line break in some fanfic. In real life... God, it nearly killed me. Do you know how much thirteen years hurts?"

Erin swallowed hard. "No," she said honestly. "And I'm really glad I don't." She hesitated. "Li?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I have a chance?" Erin asked. "He's very stubborn, and the age difference is a somewhat valid reason. What do you think?"

"Um." Lianne frowned thoughtfully.

"If I may comment?" They both looked over at Miache with a start. Erin had almost forgotten the vampire was there. "Zhat man back zhere likes you quite a lot. It's a classic case of denial if I've ever seen vun. And in my experience, ze quickest vay to pull a man out of denial is jealousy."

Lianne eyed the woman doubtfully. "That never works in stories," she pointed out. "It always backfires."

"But zhis is not a story," Miache pointed out. "And people in real life are very predictable. Anyvay, zhat is only my advice. You need not take it if you don't vant to. But," she shrugged, "it's vorked for me every time in ze last four 'undred years, zhat's all I vill say."

"Thanks," Erin said politely. Being rude to a vampire was not a clever move. "But I think I'll wait a little while yet before trying anything so drastic. He might come around on his own."

"Yes, 'e might," Miache admitted. "But zhen again... vell, I 'ear zhose verevolf girls are very... persuasive. I vouldn't leave a man I vanted over zhere, not all on 'is own."

"Remus would never!" Erin and Lianne exclaimed angrily, almost at the same time.

"Per'aps not," Miache said. "I don't know 'im, or vhat 'e is likely to do. But zhen again, you do not know ze volves."

~*~

"Now, I vill announce you, and you two vill approach ze queen and curtsy." Miache paused. "You can curtsy?"

"Er... not well," Lianne said.

"Not at all," Erin added.

"Hm." Miache eyed the two women. "You'll 'ave to bow, zhen. Not precisely proper, but much better zhan disgracing yourselves wiz 'orrible curtsies." She frowned. "Pity neizzer of you speaks French. Ze queen's English is not so good as mine, and she knows more zhan many ozzer vampires. I shall 'ave to translate for you, I suppose."

A male vampire, in a black evening suit, opened the door and said something to Miache. She nodded, and motioned for Erin and Lianne to follow her underground. Li supposed she shouldn't have been surprised the vampire tribe would live beneath the forest, rather than in it - they preferred caves, after all - but it had still amazed her. She'd been expecting grand mansions or gloomy castles, somehow.

The tunnel down to the vampires' lair was surprisingly clean, for all that it was made of dirt. Then, Lianne realized that was because it wasn't made of dirt. It had been paved in marble tiles. She held back a smile. Vain as vampires were known to be, she should have expected something like that.

They passed doors occasionally, set in the marble. They were labeled in French, but Lianne recognized a few words from the bits of Latin she'd had to learn in her Ancient Runes class. "Blood" was featured on many doors, and after a few of those Li decided she didn't want to know what the labels said, after all.

"Ah," Miache said at last. "Zhis vun 'ere." She stopped at a door more or less indistinguishable from all the others, and opened it, sweeping in before the other two.

Lianne swallowed hard as she followed Miache in. All of a sudden, she felt very grubby in her plain black working robes, snagged and dirty from walking through the forest. If she'd known they were going somewhere like this, she'd've asked if they could stop and change clothes first.

The room was enormous, and at least as impressive as the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The walls and floor were a sort of crystalline white, glimmering brightly where the light of what had to be several thousand candles fell on them. Except - those can't be real candles, she thought in amazement. They were far too bright, and some of them shed light in different shades of the spectrum, that candles normally did not. And the ceiling... it was almost frightening. The ceiling was a giant mirror. And as the room was full of vampires, many of whom were of the middle levels, only perhaps a third of the people in the room were reflected in the mirror.

Lianne shivered, then continued after Miache, through the crowds of formally attired people - well, you can't say vampires have no dress sense, that's for sure - up to the throne.

Even if the woman there hadn't been wearing the elegant silver crown, Lianne would have known her immediately for Queen Desdemona. Her hair, long and white, flowed so naturally that she had to have worked on it for more than an hour to get that effect, and the silk of her deep crimson gown spoke of wealth. But most of all, it was her eyes, clear and silver-blue, that held the royalty. This was a woman with power, and not just the sort that came from being a vampire.

Lianne couldn't understand what Miache said to the queen, but she got the message behind the nod the redhead gave when she stopped speaking. Hands at her sides, Lianne bowed respectfully, noting with relief that Erin did the same.

"We greet you, Your Majesty," Lianne said, hoping that was the right thing to say. No one had ever briefed her on meeting royalty. It wasn't the sort of thing a girl expected to be doing, after all.

"I am greeting you, Lady Black," Queen Desdemona replied carefully. "I am vondering alzo vhat iz bringing you 'ere, a 'uman and American."

"I'm here from Britain, actually," Lianne clarified.

"But you speak as an American?" the queen asked, creasing her brow.

"Originally," Lianne conceded. "I was born in America, but I moved to Britain to go to school. Then I just decided to stay."

"Ov course." The queen's face was perfectly blank, and made Lianne wonder just how much of that she'd understood. "And you 'ave come to France vhy?"

"Erm..." Lianne glanced at Miache. This was probably too complicated to try without a translator. The vampire smiled and nodded for Lianne to go ahead. "Well, I'm an artist - an illustrator, mostly - and I was kind of traveling around Europe, and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to do some work while I'm traveling. And I heard that vampires liked to have their portraits painted, so I thought I'd come here and see if you'd hire me."

As Miache finished her translation, Queen Desdemona - and several of her courtiers - sat stunned. Then, slowly, the queen began to laugh. Lianne bit her lip nervously. Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? The queen began talking rapidly in French, and Li looked over at Miache for help.

"'Vell, you certainly are a brave voman, Lady Black,'" Miache translated. "'I believe zhis is ze first time any 'uman 'as made an offer like zhis before. Of course, you may paint any of my subjects 'oo vish it. If zhey are pleased, per'aps I vill commission you myself. Such boldness is far too rare in 'uman vomen.'"

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Lianne hesitated, then bowed again, figuring it couldn't hurt.

The queen nodded regally. "Your friend, Mistress Connor," she said abruptly. "She alzo iz painting uz?"

"No, I'm just here to help Lia- er, Lady Black," Erin replied, speaking up for herself before Lianne could say anything.

"Ah." The queen nodded. "Zhen velcome to ze Cruentes Tribe. I 'ope you are not finding your stay too unpleasant."

Recognizing the dismissal in Queen Desdemona's voice, Lianne bowed again, then glanced at Miache for help. The red-haired vampire nodded deeply to her queen, then led Erin and Lianne through the crowds to stand by the wall.

"Zhat vent vell," Miache said softly. "I did not expect 'er to be so... kind."

"What do you mean?" Erin asked suspiciously.

"She seemed impressed," Miache explained. "She could very easily 'ave ordered you flung to ze mercies of ze forest. Vampires are not known for their sociable natures."

"You thought she wouldn't even listen to us?" Lianne hissed in outrage. "Then why did you bother - "

"I don't vant to see my people killed because our queen served an evil master," Miache cut her off. "And it vas ze best idea I'd 'eard of yet. Now," she changed the subject, "ve are going to stay in ze Court for a little vhile. If no vun 'as asked for a portrait in... say... an 'our, I vill call in a few favors I am owed."

"When are we supposed to ask about the alliance with - " Lianne stopped as Miache shook her head abruptly.

"Not 'ere," the vampire whispered. "Not in front of ze entire Court. Later, I - " She stopped as a tall man with sweeping, very shiny blond hair approached, and began speaking to him in French. Lianne watched blankly, really wishing she'd found the time to take French lessons.

Miache looked over at Li and Erin. "Zhis is ze Marquis Caesaries Crocei, and 'e vishes to 'ave 'is portrait painted. And I vould suggest you agree," she added, her tone still as though she were giving a matter-of-fact translation. "Ze Marquis is ze tutor of ze royal descendants."

"Of course I agree," Lianne said, smiling politely at Crocei. "Wouldn't dream of refusing. Is this a good thing?"

"Obviously," Miache replied calmly, before turning back to give Lianne's agreement, probably much more formally than it had been spoken. Li eyed the man critically, wondering how quickly she could paint him. It really depended on what size portrait he wanted. Hopefully she could get most of it done today. Normally, she would never try to paint that quickly, but... these weren't exactly normal circumstances.

"Follow me, zhen," Miache said suddenly, and strode away, while Crocei went off in the direction he'd come from. "Vill it take you long to set up?"

"No, not really," Lianne replied. "I'm not planning on anything fancy, just straight watercolors, and maybe some black ink." She frowned. "Miache? Shouldn't this Marquis be busy actually tutoring the kids?"

"Zhere are no 'kids,' anymore," Miache told her. "Crocei is called tutor, but 'e's more along ze lines of a babysitter. It is 'is job to make sure ze descendants do not get into any trouble."

"Bit late for that," Erin said, trying not to grin.

"Quite." Miache smiled slightly. "Zhis affair about ze princess and 'er verevolf 'as 'urt Crocei's standing at Court considerably. I expect zhat is vhy 'e vas so quick to 'ire you. Ze queen seems to favor you, for ze moment at least, and 'e vishes very much to be in 'er good graces again."

"So he doesn't actually care about being painted?" Lianne asked.

"Vell... possibly," Miache said thoughtfully. "Ze Marquis is known for 'is vanity. Vould you 'ave been insulted if 'e didn't care?"

"Relieved is more like it," Lianne said, grinning a little. "I hope he doesn't think he's being overcharged, because there's no way I'm putting a major effort into this. That hair alone would take hours, if I was! How does he make it so shiny?"

Miache smirked. "Dye."

~*~

Erin sat drumming her fingers against the table, watching Lianne paint the Marquis. Watching Li be artistic could be fun at times, but not for - she glanced at the clock - an hour and counting.

"Don't do that, please, Erin," Lianne said, glancing up.

"Do what?"

"Hit the table. You're shaking it."

"Sorry." Erin got up and wandered to the front room. The Marquis was posing in the music room of the tutoring area, wanting to be painted seated at his harp. The first room they'd entered, the one she was in now, was a library of sorts, only for the royal children. There were several doors leading out - one to the music room and the rest of the more public areas, one to Crocei's rooms, and one to the rooms of the children.

Erin glanced at the shelved books. Every one of them was in French. Pity. She could've used something to do. She picked one up anyway. From the cover, it had to be some sort of romance. Yes, that word meant "love" -

"You don't want to bother with that one."

Erin jumped and turned with a start. A teenage girl, maybe a year younger than Erin herself - though you could never be sure, with vampires - was standing in the doorway to the children's rooms. She smiled hesitantly, peering out through a thick curtain of black hair.

"I've read it, and it's very boring," she added, coming shyly into the room. "And my brother said you didn't know French."

"I don't," Erin admitted. "I was just bored." She put the book back on the shelf. "Um... I'm Erin Connor."

"Yes, I know. I'm Priscilla Insontis." She looked as though she were trying not to stare, but her eyes were eager. "Are you really from England?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Erin recognized the name of the eldest princess immediately, and made sure her tone was properly respectful.

"Oh, no, you mustn't call me that!" Her eyes widened in dismay. "Please, use my name. I'm Prissy - or Priscilla, if you really must. But do call me Prissy! That's what my friends used to call me, before I was locked in here."

"Um... ok." Erin shrugged, then frowned. "Wait a second... the door's not locked."

"I am bound in this room," Prissy said sadly. "Aunt Desdemona says it is for my own good. But I am so lonely! The only ones who come here are my brother and my cousin - and that horrid Marquis. And you, now." She looked into Erin's eyes hopefully. "Will you be my friend?"

"I guess so," Erin said, slightly disconcerted. A thought struck her. "Hey - you don't have an accent!"

"No, I do not!" Prissy laughed merrily, her eyes brightening for a moment. "I love languages, and that awful man in there says I have a 'knack' for them. I can also speak German, and Spanish, and I am learning Japanese. It is such fun!"

"Yeah..." Erin wasn't sure what exactly to say. She'd taken the two credits of a language - Spanish - that she'd needed to graduate, and promptly erased the painful memories.

"You do not like languages?" Prissy asked, amazed.

"Well... they're ok." Erin shrugged uncomfortably.

"But they are so important!" the princess objected. "What will you do if you wish to travel, and cannot find someone who speaks your language? That is what I told... Lane..." Her voice trailed off into sudden sadness, and the light went out of her eyes.

"Lane... Delaney?" It had to be. She had to be talking about her werewolf lover.

"Yes." Prissy nodded, sniffling. "Delaney Alphasson. He's - oh, he's wonderful! So handsome, and so sweet and polite - not the way those courtiers are, but like he really means it! I miss him so much..." She pressed her fists to her mouth in an effort to hold back sobs.

"I know how you feel," Erin said sympathetically.

"Do you?" Prissy looked up, eyes wide with unshed tears. "Oh, you do! Have you a lover? One that you can't be with?"

"Well... I'd like him to be my lover," Erin admitted. "He's a werewolf, too."

"Like Lane!" Prissy exclaimed.

"Yes, like Lane," Erin agreed. "But... he doesn't seem to want a relationship with me."

"Oh, that's awful," Prissy said. "But I'm sure he shall come around. No one can resist love."

"I hope so." Erin gave a half-smile. "But I don't know what to do." She sighed. "I suppose you and Lane just fell into each other's arms?"

"Almost. He loved me from the very first time he saw me." A light shone in Prissy's face as she spoke about her lover. "But - well, he is a werewolf, after all, and I didn't quite dare say I loved him."

"But you got over it?" Erin asked.

"With some help from him." Prissy laughed. "He pretended he was falling for one of those terrible wolf girls, and I just couldn't bear the thought of Lane being with anyone other than me."

There's that jealousy thing again. "But didn't you get angry? I mean, he did trick you," Erin pointed out.

"With good reason." Prissy shrugged. "I really don't mind. He did it because he loves me. I know that. How could I get angry because he loves me?"

"Oh, by ze blood, Prizzilla, you aren't going on about zhat awful volf boy again, are you?"

"Lane's not awful!" Prissy cried, spinning to face the young woman leaning in the entrance from the hall. "You don't even know him! He's wonderful!"

"Hmp. So you say," the other girl sneered.

"You're just jealous that I have a lover!" Prissy raised her chin defiantly. "I bet no one in the whole tribe wants to be your lover!"

"Really? Zhat's funny." The girl smirked. "I vas just about to say ze same zhing about you. After all, you're ze vun 'oo 'ad to go all ze vay to ze volves to find a man villing to court you. Scraping ze bottom of ze barrel, aren't ve, cousin dear?"

"You just be quiet, Hera Iunior!" Prissy put her hands on her hips in what was clearly meant to be a threatening manner, but was mostly coming off as laughable. "Or I swear I'll hex you!"

"You, 'ex me?" Hera laughed mockingly. "Some'ow, I don't see zhat 'appening. In case you've forgotten, I rank you."

"I'm the heiress!" Prissy retorted.

"For 'ow long, though?" Hera shook her head. "Silly little Prizzilla. You really zhink you're going to pull it off. Keep your delusions, zhen. But remember, I'll be zhere vhen zhey all come tumbling down. And I'll be laughing."

Having said what she came to, Hera swept away down the hall. Prissy watched, trembling, with tears in her eyes.

"I hate her," the vampire princess whispered. "I don't care if she is my cousin. I just - hate her!"

"I don't blame you," Erin said whole-heartedly. "She didn't seem nice at all."

"She isn't." Prissy sniffled, then pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose. "Sorry. It's just - she makes me so mad! She thinks she ought to be the heiress, not me. And," Prissy sighed, "she's probably right."

"What makes you say that?" Erin asked curiously.

"Oh, she's more powerful than me," Prissy said with a shrug. "And she's much better with people. I just can't handle them. I always lose my nerve."

"Not everyone's a people person," Erin reminded her.

"But a queen has to be," Prissy said seriously. "If she can't force her people to do her will, by being the most powerful, then she's got to be able to convince them to do it. I can't talk people around, and Owls can't do much."

"Owls?" Erin frowned.

"It's a power level," Prissy explained. "Don't you know about the vampire power levels?"

"Only a little," Erin confessed. "I know Phoenix is the highest. That's what Miache is."

"Yes." Prissy nodded. "Well, I am in the Order of the Owl. That is the sixth one, and the most common. We have most of the bad points of being a vampire, but we are not high enough to have the really good points. I cannot go out in any sunlight, I'm not reflected in mirrors, and I dare not touch garlic. And any iron at all..." She shuddered. "But Hera does not have such problems. She is already a Falcon. That is the ninth level, and she has yet to reach her full potential. She will likely end as at least a Cobra, perhaps a Tiger - or maybe even a Phoenix." Prissy sighed wistfully. "I should love to be a Phoenix. Like Lady Miache. She goes wherever she wishes, does whatever she wishes, and no one dares to stop her. But I am unlikely to ever rise above the Owl."

"Then... why are you the heiress, instead of Hera?" Erin asked.

"I am the daughter of Aunt Desdemona's sister. Hera is the daughter of her brother. Queenship passes through the daughters." Prissy sniffled. "I wish she were heiress. Then perhaps I could run away with my dear Lane. But as long as I live, she cannot inherit."

"That's really awful for you." In a sudden burst of sympathy, Erin reached out to touch the other girl's shoulder - but the princess gasped and shied violently away. "Prissy - what's wrong?"

"Your hand!" Prissy clasped the skin the Erin's hand had nearly connected with. "You - you've iron! On your hand!"

"What - oh." Erin turned red, looking down at her hand. She had a thick ring of iron around the index finger of her left hand, and Lianne had its twin. After nearly an hour of fruitlessly scouring Remus's house for some small bit of iron, Sirius had lost his temper and transfigured the handles on a pot into two rings. She'd entirely forgotten she had the thing on, but apparently even being close to it hurt Prissy. "I'm sorry, I just forgot it was there. It's just - well, I'm a human, and - "

"Oh, I understand!" Prissy assured her quickly. "I was just startled, that's all. I hadn't expected you to have iron." She rubbed her shoulder, her face pale even for a vampire. "I - I think I do not feel so well, Erin. I will go and rest. But you will come see me again?" She turned pleading eyes on the other girl. "Please? I'm so lonely here - you're the only one who's ever spoken to me since Lane. Not even my brother..."

"I'll come back, don't worry," Erin said firmly. The princess was in a really rough position, that was clear. She needed a friend... and if Erin was the only available choice, then she'd just have to be that friend.

~*~

"So who exactly knows about this secret meeting?" Lianne asked as Miache led them through a tunnel. Li was getting the distinct impression that this was not exactly one of the better-known passageways. The only light came from her wand, and the flickering witch-light Miache had summoned to float over her head.

"You, your young friend, and I." Miache smiled. "Ze queen vill be most surprised."

"I'm sure," Erin said dryly. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"But life is so much more interesting vhen it's unpredictable," Miache said sweetly. "Besides, she might 'ave ordered me not to bring you, and zhat vouldn't do at all." She glanced around. "Ve are nearly zhere. Be silent, and remain 'ere vhile I see to ze guards." She froze a moment, then evaporated into a cloud of silver mist that floated swiftly down the tunnel and around the bend.

Lianne glanced over at Erin, wondering what she was thinking. She knew her friend had spoken with the princess who'd caused all the trouble, but she hadn't had a chance to ask her about that yet. After finishing for the day with Crocei, she'd been taken over to see some awful fat woman who insisted on being painted wearing a dress made for someone three sizes smaller and with a complexion suited to garishly vivid lime green. And to make things worse, the woman knew enough English to question Lianne quite rudely about her personal life. Bloody gossiping old hag. Now I remember why I hate working with models.

Lianne was distracted from her thoughts by Miache's return. The redhead walked back down the passageway, rather than floating as mist, and she had a rather smug little smile on her face. Li decided it would be better not to ask why. Especially as Miache led them past two now-unconscious guards.

They entered a room that was nowhere near as luxuriant as what Lianne had seen so far, to find Queen Desdemona seated at her desk, facing them with narrowed eyes. She studied the three wordlessly, then raised a hand to her throat and murmured what Lianne recognized as the translation spell she'd had quite a lot of trouble with at school.

"May I ask what you are doing here?" the queen said after a moment. Lianne saw Erin's eyes widen at the sudden improvement in the vampire's English, but the younger woman had the sense not to question it right then.

"My apologies, Majesty," Miache said, inclining her head respectfully, but pointedly neither bowing nor curtseying. "But zhere is a matter of great importance - "

"Yes, all right, the fact that you interrupted my work told me that," Queen Desdemona snapped irritably. "I get enough of that posturing at the Court. Now get on with it or I'll have you all thrown out."

Miache scowled, deprived of the grandstanding she loved. Lianne hid a smile. The queen reminded her a little of Arabella Figg, and the antagonistic relationship the old witch shared with the beautiful red-haired Phoenix.

"It was because of me, Your Majesty," Lianne spoke up, praying silently that she was going about this in the right way. "I - I'd like to talk to you."

"I guessed that. Something you couldn't say in front of the Court." The Queen surveyed the witch standing before her, eyes as sharp as Dumbledore's, but without the fond amusement that so often twinkled behind his glasses. "I suppose you're going to tell me you aren't an artist, after all."

"I am!" Lianne cried indignantly. She blushed. "Sorry, Majesty." The queen nodded impatiently. "Well, I am an artist... but I didn't come here just to paint your subjects."

"Why am I not surprised?" The queen shook her head slowly. "Then why?"

"Well..." Lianne started to glance in Miache's direction, then stopped herself. She was the one who'd been sent by the Circle. She had to do this herself. "I have been asked by - by some people in England to - invite you to join our - cause." She winced. That hadn't come out well. "I mean - "

"I have the general idea." The queen eyed Lianne a moment more. "Who?"

"Um... Albus Dumbledore, among others." Professor Dumbledore was a good starting point. Most people had heard of him, even those who weren't English.

"Ahhh." Queen Desdemona nodded in understanding. "You wish the Cruentes to help you fight against your Dark Lord."

"'E is not just zheir Dark Lord, Majesty," Miache reminded the queen.

"I'm well aware of that, Miache." The queen closed her eyes to take a deep breath. "Why don't you three sit down? This may take a while."

Lianne and Erin hesitated, but when Miache showed no qualms about seating herself in one of the chairs beside the desk, they followed her example. Silence reigned for a few minutes, while the queen sat unmoving and Lianne composed her thoughts.

"I assume you are aware that this Dark Lord has approached me," the queen said at last. Her eyes were closed, but she seemed to sense Lianne's nod of confirmation. "Yes, I thought as much." She opened her eyes to study the three before her. "Did you also know of his first offer to us, a few years back?"

"Um... no, I didn't," Lianne admitted. "I wasn't as... well-informed in those days."

"Yes, it would be a long time for a human," Queen Desdemona mused. "Well, I remember quite well. The battle with the wolves wasn't so urgent a cause then, and our trade with humans was flourishing. This Lord did ask us to join him, but we managed to remain neutral. Ours was one of the few tribes who did so. I'd hoped that we would be able to maintain our standing... but that does not seem possible now."

Lianne wasn't quite sure what to say. She hadn't expected the queen to be so open about considering turning to Voldemort. She'd been prepared to pretend that the Dark Lord had nothing to do with anything. She hadn't been ready to speak so frankly.

Though of course, a vampire tribe could afford to openly support Voldemort and his cause. Vampires were already universally hated; there wasn't much more anyone could do to them than had already been done. If they decided the Dark Lord deserved their loyalty, they had nothing to lose by declaring it.

"Well, I have heard your opposite number's side of things," the queen said. "Why don't you tell me why you think the Cruentes ought to support you?"

"Um." Lianne frowned for a moment. "Well... we're fighting for freedom. The Dark Lord will oppress everyone if he wins. Even the vampires. He isn't going to be loyal to anyone except himself. Anything he promises you, he won't give. He'll just laugh, and destroy you."

"But we seem likely to be destroyed in any case," Queen Desdemona pointed out. "You misunderstand me, Lady Black. I know the reasons not to ally with this Lord. But what are the reasons I should choose you instead?"

"Oh. Um." Lianne realized she was saying that a lot. She really ought to kick the habit. "We could - uh - "

"We have a delegation negotiating with the Ganrou Clan," Erin said, cutting off Lianne's fumbling. The queen's eyes snapped to the younger girl. "If you agree to support us, we could try to arrange a more diplomatic solution to your feud than fighting."

"And what makes you think we cannot fight?" the queen demanded, bristling.

"You haven't got enough people," Erin said calmly. "And the ones you have got are - well, you know your Court better than I do. How long do you think they'd last against a fighting force of wolves?"

"Vampires are more than just pretty faces," Queen Desdemona said coldly.

"Against verevolves?" Miache asked pointedly. "Mistress Connor 'as a point, Your Majesty. Using our powers against ozzer Dark creatures is much more divvicult. Per'aps if numbers vere on our side, ve might 'ave a better chance. But as zhings are - "

"I know," the queen cut her off sharply. She sighed. "Believe me, Miache, I know our weaknesses very well. And I would like nothing more than to be able to extricate my people from this mess without a war. But realistically speaking," she turned her gaze on Lianne, "you must understand that, when dealing with creatures as uncivilized as those wolven barbarians, force is much more effective than diplomacy."

"Then you're refusing us?" Lianne swallowed hard. She hadn't really thought the queen would do that. She couldn't imagine anyone choosing to follow Voldemort, not when she had another option so readily available.

"Not refusing, exactly," Queen Desdemona said. "I would simply like some time to think all of this through more carefully. You must understand, this is not a decision to be made lightly." She looked at Lianne more closely. "Or perhaps you do not understand, after all."

"I'm afraid I don't," Lianne confessed. "But it's your decision, not mine."

"And I cannot decide simply for myself," the queen added. "A ruler must make choices with all of her people's interests in mind, not simply her own. Even if my moral judgment should parallel yours, the moral path is not always the one that is best for the people I lead."

Lianne shook her head slowly. She still didn't really see how following Voldemort could be good for anyone... but at this point, pressing the issue would do no good. "Will you let me know when you've made your decision?"

"Rest assured of it." The queen smiled faintly, just enough to expose the tips of her fangs. Lianne stopped herself from shivering visibly, but it was a near thing. "In fact - " She stopped, eyes flickering to the doorway behind her three guests. "Another visitor? My, I'm getting popular. Come in, Xavier."

"Your English 'as improved, Majesty." A tall young man - no, probably not young, considering that he was a vampire - came forward. "And I see you are wiz your lovely guests from Court. Considering ze condition I found your guards in... zhis is most interesting."

Lianne watched him with narrowed eyes as he - Xavier, had the queen said? - bowed first to her, then Erin, then Miache. It was, she noted, a pity she hadn't been asked to paint him. He fell right in the Tall, Dark, and Handsome category, with the queen's silver-blue eyes to cap it all off. She'd have chosen him over that horrible fat woman any day.

Or maybe she wouldn't have. At least the fat lady didn't move like a tiger preparing to pounce. And at least her eyes didn't burn with a dark internal fire. Remus's repeated warnings about vampires all came back to her in a rush, and Lianne could almost believe they'd all been aimed directly at this man here.

"I 'eard you at your introduction to ze Court, earlier today," Xavier said, with a charming smile, "but you did not meet me. I am Xavier Insontis - Prince if you must, but I would far rather be Xavier to ladies such as you."

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," Lianne said, trying to keep a balance of polite and distant while her instincts insisted that the only intelligent thing to do just now was to turn and run for her life.

"A pleasure," Erin echoed. To Lianne's relief, the younger girl didn't sound any more bewitched than Li herself was. Unfortunately, she was having a bit more trouble keeping the dislike from her voice. Xavier raised an eyebrow at that, but, apparently amused, chose not to address it.

"Well, nephew, what brings you here?" the queen asked wearily.

"Ze same request as ever." Xavier leaned nonchalantly on the edge of the queen's desk. "My sister's release from 'er prison."

Queen Desdemona sighed. "You know my answer, Xavier."

"Of course, of course." He waved an elegant hand. "But you know I must ask. For my sister's sake."

"Yes," the queen replied coolly. "I know." She was silent a moment, considering her nephew. "Why do you bring it up again now, of all times?"

A look of - something - flashed across Xavier's face, too quickly for Lianne to decide what it was. "My sister is - most upset," he said. "Zhis confinement is not good for 'er. And she did say zhat she'd met wiz your fair guests. I 'ad 'oped zhey might 'ave spoken for 'er."

"They had other issues to bring to my attention," the queen said calmly. She looked over at the seated women. "You met with Priscilla?"

"I did," Erin said. "It was - kind of an accidental meeting."

"I can imagine." Queen Desdemona frowned in thought.

"Surely you vish 'er release, zhen?" Xavier turned his charm on Erin. "A young lady like yourself vould 'ardly vant poor Prizzilla to be locked in 'er chambers day and night."

Erin looked down at her knees, rather than meet Xavier's eyes. Good move, Lianne thought. Whatever Erin did next, she would do herself, rather than under the vampire's control.

"I see why you'd want to keep her locked up, Your Majesty," Erin said at last, to the queen. "I'm sure it's safer."

Xavier scowled darkly, and looked as though, had there been a chair remaining, he would have flung himself into it to sulk. Instead, he contented himself with looming menacingly over everyone and glowering at them all. Especially Erin.

"I believe my nephew and I need to have another discussion about the princess," Queen Desdemona said thoughtfully.

"Ve'll take our leave, zhen." Miache rose, once more inclining her head without curtseying. Lianne and Erin chose to bow, both to the queen and the prince.

"Farewell, Your Majesty, Your Highness," Lianne said politely.

"Farewell," Xavier said, inclining his head much as Miache had done. He seemed as perfectly courteous as when he'd entered, but, just before they left the room, he called out, "Mistress Connor?"

Erin turned around, puzzled. "Highness?"

His smile was merely an excuse to bare his bladed fangs. "May you be exactly as safe as my sister is."

~*~

"Why the hell don't these bloody things come with a manual?"

Erin tried not to laugh as Lianne attempted to work the mirror-thing Dumbledore had given them. "They probably did," she said thoughtfully, once she had herself under control. "Way back in seventeen-whenever when Dumbledore got them."

"He isn't that old," Lianne objected. "Anyway, the ice would've melted."

"Point." Erin watched as her friend experimented with holding it upside-down and shaking hard. "You're going to break it."

"Am not." Lianne looked distracted enough to be easily tricked into a long repetitive "are not/are too" argument, but Erin didn't feel up to it, and decided to let it go.

"Are you sure you've got it pointed the right way?" she asked instead.

"Um... no, not really." Lianne blinked, looking around the room Miache had put them in for the night. "I don't even know which way's which when we're outside, how'm I supposed to tell when I'm underground with four walls around me?"

"Do you have a compass?" Erin asked patiently.

"No."

"Do you know how to make one?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, it was worth a shot." Erin sighed - then sat up straight in inspiration. "Say - do you know that spell Harry used in the fourth book?"

Lianne gave Erin a Look. "Considering that the last time I read those things was about twenty years ago - "

"Right, sorry. I mean, the one where he could make his wand point north? It was... um..." Erin snapped her fingers repeatedly, trying to jog her memory. "The points..."

"The Four-Point Spell?" Lianne smacked her forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?" She shook her head. "Well, I think I can manage it, yes. Let's see." She pulled out her wand and rested it in the palm of her hand. "Point Me," she commanded softly.

An astonishing nothing happened.

She scowled and repeated, "Point Me!"

There was a complete lack of reaction from her wand.

"Point Me, damn you, or I'll use you as firewood!"

Erin rolled her eyes. "That isn't going to - "

"It's already pointing north," Miache said from the doorway, surveying the scene with great interest. "Vhat are you doing?"

"A spell to contact Remus," Lianne said absently, readjusting her mirror so that the crystals were correctly aligned.

Erin came over to peer into the reflection, as well as Lianne. "Do you know how it works?"

"Um." Lianne was staring at the crystals. Erin followed her gaze. Some of them were blinking, and they were all different colors. "No, not really. You?"

"I'm not supposed to. You're the witch," Erin said, prodding hopefully at a corner. "Is that crystal supposed to do that?" The eastern one had been flashing, but it was now glowing a steadily darker red, approaching black.

"Oh! Remus is trying to talk to us!" Lianne grinned and pressed that crystal down. The mirror faded into his reflection.

His shirtless reflection. Erin's eyes widened. "Oh my stars..." Good Lord in heaven, she thought dazedly, he's gorgeous!

Of course, she'd always firmly believed that Remus was gorgeous, but fantasizing about him and seeing him were two completely different things. Erin wondered vaguely if he was wearing pants, and how she could get the reflection down that far, and whether he'd be angry if she did.

"What - oh." Remus blushed a very deep red. Apparently, he'd noticed that she was staring. "This is how the people dress here. They wouldn't let me keep my robes."

"I don't blame them." Did I just say that out loud? Erin was amazed at her daring - or at her absentmindedness, whichever had made her voice that particular thought.

"Anyway," Remus said quickly, clearing his throat in embarrassment. "So I see you got to the vampires safely?"

"Yep," Lianne said, her tone somewhere between relieved and regretful. "And you would not believe some of the things that have happened."

"Considering my own experiences, I rather think I would," Remus said dryly.

"Did you have to crawl through dusty tunnels, deal with people who don't speak your language, meet an insane royal family, and paint an appalling fat woman?" Lianne wanted to know.

"Not exactly." Remus hid a smile. "I did, however, get to move a very heavy door, speak to the Alpha male, go hunting, get sick at the sight of the dead wolf, and have my clothes replaced."

So he is wearing clothes, Erin thought in mild disappointment.

"Sounds exciting." Lianne grimaced. "Hunting, huh? Not your usual style."

"Yes, and believe me, there's a reason. But," Remus brightened, "I did meet the young man who's started everything - Delaney Alphasson."

"Really? I met Priscilla Insontis!" Erin spoke up. "She's this terribly shy little thing. They've got her locked up in her rooms."

"I don't think the wolves could keep Lane locked up if they tried." Remus smiled slightly. "He seems the type to either pick a lock, or break it. But he isn't allowed outside the walls, so the effect is the same. And he's anything but shy." A dark look crossed his face. "He's the only one in this entire place who's given me decent advice."

"Oh?" Lianne asked curiously.

"He told me to get out while I had the chance," Remus explained. "And - some other things. Customs, and so on."

"Nice of him," Lianne remarked.

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" Remus shivered. "If he hadn't warned me, I might've ended up doing something - stupid."

Erin shook her head. "You don't do stupid things."

"You didn't know him at Hogwarts," Lianne countered with a grin.

"If we could get back to the matter at hand," Remus said loudly, ignoring Erin's laughter. "I didn't get a chance to bring up the situation back home, but it's the first thing I plan to do in the morning. The sooner we're done here, the better."

"We spoke to the queen about it," Lianne said slowly, "but she didn't seem very enthusiastic."

A look of alarm crossed Remus's face. "Should you get out of there? If you think they've already gone over - "

"Zhey 'aven't," Miache said firmly, from across the room. Erin started. She'd forgotten the vampire was there. "Not yet. I vould know."

"I'm sure." Remus's words were polite, but it was a good thing Miache couldn't see the doubt in his expression. "Well, if all else fails, you have your iron, right?"

"Right," Erin told him, holding up her hand to prove it. Lianne did the same.

"Good." Remus nodded. "Then I guess the only thing you can do is keep trying to convince the queen. And try to defuse the situation with the princess, if you possibly can."

Erin winced. "I think I may have messed that up."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Oh? How so?"

"I think I got her brother angry," Erin said hesitantly. She didn't like talking about Xavier. She didn't like thinking about him. Right before she'd looked away, when he'd asked her to request Prissy's freedom - it had been like he was trying to get inside her mind. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"All right." Remus didn't ask anything more, but the concern remained in his eyes, and warmed Erin like a fire on a snowy day. "How did the painting go?" he asked.

"All right." Lianne shrugged. "Portraits aren't my favorite things in the world, and these works won't be displayed in any galleries, but they aren't bad. And I think the Court pretty much accepted us."

"Good." Remus heaved a sigh of relief. "I was worried about that. You haven't got the excuse of kinship."

"Speaking of which, what did they think of you?" Lianne asked.

"Um... they were a little suspicious at first," Remus said after a moment's thought. "But I don't think they are anymore. They don't act it, anyway." He gave a twisted half-smile. "One of them even made an attempt to get me adopted into the clan."

"Really?" Lianne blinked. "That's good... right?"

"Not really," Miache said, looking over their shoulders to wave at Remus. "I expect zhat she tried to get you inducted as 'er mate. By trying to seduce you."

Erin turned white, and hardly noticed Remus's blush. The vague ideas she'd had of a group of wolf men trooping through the woods on a merry hunt were quickly replaced by grimly clear visions of beautiful wolf women as scantily clad as Remus was at the moment, flinging themselves at him in the forest clearings after he was exhausted from impressing them with his brilliant hunting skills. Beautiful wolf women... who were like him. Who could understand him. Who were his age.

"Excuse me." Erin turned abruptly and quickly ducked out of the view of the mirror and into the side room Miache had told them was a bathroom. If she was going to cry, she damned well wasn't going to do it in front of Remus!

~*~

"What just happened?" Remus blinked after Erin fled. "Is she ok?"

"I doubt it." Lianne gave Miache a dirty look. "What'd you go and tell her that for? You knew she'd get upset."

"Wait - you're telling me she's jealous?" Remus asked, astonished. "Just because Miache said some wolf woman was throwing herself at me?"

"You'd be jealous if you'd 'eard about Xavier," Miache said with a shrug.

Remus stiffened. I am not going to ask, he told himself firmly. She's a vampire, she just likes controlling people. I am not going to ask.

Lianne scowled. "I didn't like him."

"People tend not to," Miache agreed. "Of course, 'e vas quite charming to Erin. 'E seemed to be razzer fond of 'er."

Remus glared at Miache. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I am not eighteen, and I am not falling for your mind games."

"What mind games?" Li asked. "Believe me, I'd much rather he didn't pay so much attention to Erin. I have this nasty feeling he's going to come look for her again, and that none of us will like what he's going to do. Especially after the way he looked at her when we were with the queen."

"Of course, she vould make a lovely vampire," Miache said thoughtfully. "I vonder if Xavier picked up on - zhat 'urt!" She glared at Lianne indignantly.

"It was meant to," Lianne said sweetly. Remus hadn't the faintest idea what it was Lianne had done, but considering to whom she was married, he was quite sure it had been most unpleasant. "He'd better not try to bite her!"

"She has more sense than to let him get that close," Remus protested, a cold lump of fear and desperate worry and - something else - forming in the pit of his stomach. "Doesn't she?"

"I hope so," Lianne said, sighing. "But the first thing I noticed is that he's awfully handsome - and he's a vampire, too. He reminded me of all the awful things anyone's ever said about vampires."

"You know, it's no trick for vun of us to make you zhink ve're trustvorthy," Miache reminded them. "Just stare into 'er eyes like 'e vas doing before - "

"You let him stare into her eyes?" Remus cried in horror. "What kind of witches are you? You're supposed to protect her!"

"She looked away," Lianne said defensively.

"Eventually," Miache added.

Remus swallowed hard, trying to compose his thoughts into some semblance of order. But it was hard to get his mind past the thought that Erin had been close to a vampire. A handsome vampire. A handsome vampire who was powerful enough that Miache was worried about it. Oh, Lord, why hadn't he insisted she stay behind? He'd known that she'd been raised Muggle, that she didn't really understand about vampires! She was going to be hurt - maybe killed - and it would be his fault!

"Look, Remus, I'm sure it'll be fine," Lianne said, worry in her eyes. "I mean, Erin's a smart person, right? And it's not like you didn't teach her how to deal with vampires, remember?"

Oh, yes, Remus remembered that lesson. He spent far too much time trying to forget it. I just hope she doesn't do what I did there.

Then he had the unpleasant task of trying to banish the mental pictures of Erin kissing a handsome, powerful young vampire. Oh, God, no. Please, no.

"I think I have to go now," Remus said distantly, his mind on the terrible thoughts crowding into his head. "I - I'll contact you again tomorrow, as soon as I can." He pressed down the western crystal again - and the connection, mercifully, died. He sank down onto the ground and put his head in his hands.

"And here I thought you weren't the type to do stupid things, Lupin."

Remus jumped to his feet and turned, coming face to face with Jonas Trademaster. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my clan," the Trademaster said calmly. "I may go where I wish. However, even I do not have permission to converse with vampires."

"Especially not in times of war," Ferox added, entering the room. Darren Huntmaster leaned in the doorway, his stance deliberately casual. "People might get the wrong idea."

"Um... yes, I do think this is a case of getting the wrong idea," Remus said slowly, thinking even more quickly than when he was confronted by suspicious coworkers wearing silver amulets and asking pointed questions about the full moon. "The reason I was talking to the vampires - well, more to a friend of mine who is part of a delegation to visit the vampires - is that I'm meant to bear you a message from Albus Dumbledore. You know, in England?" he added, when this did not earn him the hoped-for acceptance.

"We've heard of him," Ferox said, crossing his arms.

"Yes. Well." Remus shifted slightly, uncomfortably aware that he was now surrounded, with all of his exits blocked. "He - and the rest of his Circle, of course - he's sent me to ask you to join our cause. Against Voldemort. And we'd give you aid, of course, to stop the battle with the vampires."

"Why would we want to stop the battle?" Darren asked. "We're the ones who have the better odds. Of course, I can see why your vampire friends wouldn't want to fight. But vampires have always preferred their mind trickery to an honest battle."

Remus had a very bad feeling about this discussion. It was not going the way he'd hoped. At all. "Well, fine, maybe we won't help you with the vampires. You can fight that battle yourselves. But surely you'd like to ally with us against the Dark Lord."

"You know, I really don't think we would," Ferox said calmly. "It might upset him, you see. And upsetting one's new Master is hardly going to win prizes for cleverness."

"Um... master?" Remus didn't even bother to hope that he'd misheard. He knew he hadn't.

And then he realized that he couldn't see the Trademaster anymore.

His last thought before something hard came down on the back of his head was that Erin and Lianne would never know what had happened.