"And what did she say?" the prosecutor said.

Marilyn stared at Ryan. "She said that many things were impossible, and now she had done them all."

"And what was your reply?"

Marilyn seemed momentarily at a loss. "I was in shock, I could not comprehend that our leader was dead. I told Ryan she would have to take his place."

The prosecutor did not seem surprised at this seemingly contradictory revelation. "The law of succession," he said.

Marilyn nodded. "Of course. It was the one thing she could have done to at least mitigate an unforgivable act."

"And what was her reply to you?"

A strange look pa.s.sed over Marilyn's face. "She told me I didn't understand what she had done. I told her, of course I understood what she had done. She had killed our King."

This, apparently, was unfamiliar territory to the prosecutor. He wrinkled his brow. "And what did Ryan say to you?"

Marilyn stared at Ryan, as if she could will the girl to explain the phrase that was now 200 years old. She hesitated, although she could not possibly forget words that had baffled her for two centuries.

"She said: *No, I have done worse than that'."

The enigmatic statement hung in the air, and again, many eyes turned towards Ryan. But Ryan sat stiffly, her expression unreadable, her unblinking gaze forward looking at nothing.

The prosecuting attorney let the words linger a few moments longer, then he bowed to Marilyn. "Thank you, madam."

Marilyn stood as if to step down, but she was stopped by a clipped, British accent. "Not so quickly, your Honor. I have a few questions to ask the witness."

A ripple of surprise went through the courtroom and Abigail herself raised an eyebrow. She fingered her gavel. "Why certainly, counselor, it is your right."

Marilyn had obviously not expected this. She gazed at Edward with barely concealed contempt as she sat back down. She made a great show of settling in, then turned her icy gaze on him.

"By all means, counsel, ask your questions and be quick about it."

Edward gave a mocking show of confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought our Kind were never in a hurry."

The insult struck its intended mark and Marilyn shot him a venomous look. The mood in the courtroom subtly altered. Abigail herself looked with greater interest on Ryan's lawyer.

Edward stood and walked toward Marilyn. He paused about halfway there, as if mentally sorting things through. He glanced up at Marilyn.

"Now you," he paused thoughtfully, "you are one of the most powerful of our Kind."

Marilyn smiled a cool smile. "Yes."

Edward nodded his understanding. "And you, you once-" He stopped, turning back to Ryan as if searching for a thought. "Ah yes," he said, as if remembering on his own. He turned back to Marilyn.

"Now you once Shared with Victor, didn't you?"

The blunt question brought gasps from many in the crowd. Abigail covered her mouth to hide a smile. The little man's theatrics were quite amusing. She glanced over at Marilyn, who was now infuriated.

"Yes," Marilyn said icily, "I once Shared with Victor."

Edward nodded, beginning his pacing once more. He appeared to still be sorting things out. "Now, this made you more powerful, correct?"

Marilyn nodded stiffly. "Yes, that's correct."

Edward glanced at Ryan who was watching him curiously. He turned his attention back to Marilyn. "Now, I don't imagine you Shared with Victor at all after Ryan became his companion..."

Marilyn stared at him in silent fury.

"Did you?" Edward prompted, turning to look sideways at her.

Marilyn shook her head. "No, I did not."

Edward nodded once more, as if digesting facts he already knew. He headed off in another direction. "So, if you Shared with Victor, which made you more powerful-" He stopped abruptly, turning to look at her fully. "Then that means you yourself usurped the hierarchy you have accused Ryan of violating."

Marilyn was livid and could not speak. The prosecuting attorney leaped to his feet.

"Objection, your Honor. The defendant has not been accused of violating the hierarchy. She is being tried for the murder of Victor Alexander."

"Oh really?" Edward asked before Abigail could rule, his insinuation obvious.

Abigail stopped her gavel halfway, again surprised at the skill of the defense attorney. She set the mallet down.

"Objection sustained, counsel. As enjoyable as this is, will you please stop baiting the witness?"

Marilyn turned her venomous look on Abigail as Edward nodded agreeably. "Of course, your Honor. My apologies." Edward started his slow walk, glancing over at Ryan.

"Now, Madame Fontesque-" he began over his shoulder. He stopped, as if trying to phrase a difficult thought. He shrugged, giving the impression there was no delicate way to say what he needed to say. He turned and looked squarely at Marilyn.

"You want my client, don't you?"

The uproar was immediate. The prosecutor leaped to his feet, shouting objections. Abigail's gavel came crashing down, at first drowned out by the noise. The continued rapping of the mallet was finally heard over the din, and the crowd settled.

"I object, your Honor!" the prosecutor said vehemently.

"On what grounds, counselor?" Abigail asked mildly.

The prosecutor, as dignified as he was, gave a brief impression of a fish thrashing about. "On the grounds of relevancy," he finished lamely.

Abigail shook her head. "I'm afraid this is highly relevant, counselor. It reflects on the credibility of the witness. Objection denied." She turned to Marilyn. "Please answer the question, dear," she said with just a trace too much enjoyment.

Marilyn turned back to Edward and her eyes fairly burned through him. He appeared oblivious to her anger. "Well, Madam?"

Marilyn would not look at Ryan. "Everyone in this room wants her," she said finally through gritted teeth.

Edward would not let her off so easily. "Including you?"

Marilyn's fury burned unabated. One could almost hear her teeth grind. "Including me."

Edward nodded. "And you wanted her, even when she was standing covered in her mentor's blood. In fact," he said, gazing out over the packed hall, "you wanted her more at that moment than you had ever wanted her before."

Marilyn was silent, and the silence was d.a.m.ning. Edward continued, his lilting English accent soft but easily heard in the vast hall.

"In fact, at that time, you offered to take Victor's place at her side, and in her grief and self-reproach, she refused you."

Marilyn glared down at Ryan. "She felt no grief or self-reproach."

Edward began walking away from her as if finished, but he paused to look over his shoulder.

"But you did offer."

Marilyn's silence again condemned her.

Abigail glanced over at Marilyn. She had expected as much, but had never been able to confirm what had transpired between Marilyn and the girl. She rapped once with her gavel.

"Although I'm quite certain we could continue for days without rest, I am just as certain Ryan's human companion cannot. We'll adjourn for a short while."

Ryan, Edward, and Susan were led to a room and cloistered. A Young One brought food for Susan. He glanced over at Ryan, his longing evident, but she lay on the couch staring up at the ceiling. Edward gave him a firm look of disapproval and he left, depressed he had not even been acknowledged.

Susan only picked at her food. She pushed away from the table and went and sat by Ryan's side. She put her hand on Ryan's forehead and was shocked at how hot she was.

Ryan smiled as she felt the cool hand. "Don't worry doctor. That's a fairly normal temperature for me." She turned her head to look at Edward.

"I wanted to thank you for your help thus far, Edward. I am sorry."

"Is there anything you would like to tell me at this point in time?"

Ryan turned her head and closed her eyes. "It will all come out sooner or later," she said. She lay there for a long while with Susan at her side. She finally spoke without opening her eyes. "Marilyn is at the door."

Seconds later, a light knock came and the door opened.

Marilyn stepped in, apparently having regained her composure during the break. She gazed at Edward coolly, but without anger. She glanced at Susan on the couch, raising an eyebrow at her proximity to Ryan. Susan stood, fl.u.s.tered, without really knowing why.

Ryan sat upright, rubbing her temple. "I wish this blasted headache would go away."

Marilyn motioned for Edward and Susan to proceed her through the doorway and Ryan stood to do the same. Marilyn stepped in front of her, however, blocking her exit. She stared down at the younger woman, grasping her hand in her own.

She raised the hand until the bandaged appendage was between them. She did not look at the hand, however, but maintained eye contact with Ryan.

"I hope your hand is better."

"My hand is fine," Ryan said evenly.

"Good," Marilyn said, her eyes drifting to Ryan's throat, "I don't want you to lose any more blood." Marilyn's tone was both casual and dangerous. "You'll need all of it when this is through."

Marilyn pushed away from Ryan, leaving her standing in the doorway. Ryan stared after the dark-haired woman as she disappeared down the hall.

The prosecuting attorney stood as the courtroom settled into a hush.

"I would like to call Rhiannon Alexander to the stand."

Ryan uncrossed her long legs and stood. Susan was reminded of the first time she had seen Ryan in the hospital ward, and was again struck by how physically impressive she could be. Ryan strode unhurried to the stand and then settled lithely into the chair.

The prosecutor approached. "Can you tell the court approximately when you were born?"

"I was born in the year of our Lord 1325."

The prosecutor paused. Even though this fact was known to him, having it spoken aloud was daunting. "And can you tell the court how old you were when you were Changed?"

"I was 19 seasons when Victor Changed me."

This brought murmurs to the crowd and Susan looked around. As near as she could tell, 19 was too young. The prosecutor glanced over at Ryan.

"Now, with the exception of your human companion, all of us have been through the difficulty of the transformation. Can you describe for us your Change?"

The prosecutor's attempt to find common ground with Ryan failed. She instantly paled at his mention of her Change, and she now looked at him with disdain.

"You cannot possibly imagine what my Change was like," she said, slowly enunciating every word.

The prosecutor was taken aback at her sudden intensity, and he changed tactics.

"Very well. Can you describe for us your life with Victor? Was he cruel to you?"

Ryan shook her head. "No, Victor gave me everything I could wish for."

The prosecutor seemed surprised at Ryan's willingness to speak kindly of her mentor. Surprised and suspicious.

"Everything you could wish for," he repeated, "and did he withhold anything?"

Ryan's answer was immediate. "His Memories."

The prosecutor seemed puzzled by her answer. "And when did you first begin seeing his Memories?"

Ryan was silent for a moment, knowing the impact her answer would have. "From the first time his blood touched my lips."

This brought much murmuring from the crowd. Abigail glanced down at the girl. She had long known of the abilities Ryan had acquired immediately, gifts which most would acquire over centuries, gifts that some would never acquire at all. Marilyn had also known, but few others.

The prosecutor could not believe what he was hearing, but he knew Ryan was not lying. He struggled to pursue this line of questioning.

"And these Memories he withheld, was it all of them, or-?"

Ryan finished the open-ended question. "It was only a few he withheld. As I grew older, I had greater and greater access to his mind, and it was only then I realized he was hiding something from me."

"What?" the prosecutor asked.

Ryan's silence was p.r.o.nounced.

Abigail leaned over to her. "You will answer the question my dear."