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The thought that she held Mimi's life in her hands oppressed Schuyler. To risk her own life to save her enemy's! How could she volunteer for such a task? She had visited her mother in the hospital for guidance. Allegra slumbered peacefully in her bed.
"I don't know what to do. If I don't do it, Mimi will die. But If I do, then I could become a monster....Tell me what to do, Mother. Help me."
Yet, as usual, there had been no sign from Allegra.
And now Jack was studying Schuyler carefully. What did Jack mean by bringing this up now? Shouldn't he stay by Mimi's side and help her to accept the inevitable?
Jack looked over at Lawrence, who was watching the two of them keenly. He returned his gaze to Schuyler. "You are your mother's daughter. Only you can perform the blood trial."
She took a step back.
Lawrence cleared his throat, but held his tongue.
"Lawrence, you said so yourself, that Schuyler has powers none of us have. Schuyler, please. I'm begging you." Jack said, with tears in his eyes. "You're her only chance. They will destroy her."
Suddenly, Schuyler understood what was at stake. This wasn't a game the Conclave was playing. This wasn't make-believe or a play put on for their amusement. They had conducted an investigation and pronounced judgment. Punishment had been recorded in the Book of Laws. They had traveled across the ocean to Venice, to the ancient prison, to fulfill the sentence.
Mimi was going to burn.
Schuyler looked askance at Jack. Your sister tried to destroy me! She wanted me dead taken by a Silver Blood! How can I...
But she knew what she had to do. This was the sign she had been seeking all along. She looked deep into Jack's anxious green eyes.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'll do it."
;
Mimi's condemnation, the formal process for her execution, was coincidentally scheduled during Duchesne's Ski Week in March, so she allowed herself to pretend the family was just going on vacation to Venice. The whole prospect of what was to come her blood burned, her imminent destruction seemed absolutely ludicrous.
She believed her father would find some way to rescue her from her fate, and she spent the flight from New York paging through fashion magazines, marking off the clothes she would buy when she returned to the city. But once they arrived in Venice, Mimi's bravado cracked a little. Especially when members of the Conclave escorted them to their hotel. They had traveled to the ancient prison as well, to witness the final rites.
It was hard to believe in death and burning in her comfortable bedroom, where she could still watch TiVo'd My Super Sweet Sixteen and Tiara Girls. But stepping foot on the waterlogged sidewalks of Venice seemed to bring the past to life, and her memories screeched with images of the hunt: bringing death to Blue Blood foes, the black robes of the condemnation worn by the corrupted traitors, the screams of the guilty. Mimi shuddered.
Tradition called for the accused to voluntarily surrender to the jailor, and on the evening of their arrival, Mimi left their hotel and made the historical walk across the Bridge of Sighs, where thousands of Blue Blood prisoners had walked before.
The bridge was so named because it was the last vantage point from which the condemned could view the city. She walked on it lightly. Jack was at her side, silent and grim. A few paces behind them, Elders and Wardens from the Conclave followed in a procession. Mimi could hear the heavy footsteps from the mens' boots, and the softer stiletto clack from the ladies' shoes.
"Don't," she said to her brother.
"What?"
Don't act like I'm dead already. I, for one, am not giving up.
She stuck out her chin, defiant and unbowed. "I'm not worried! They'll see I've been set up!"
"Nothing gets you down, huh?" Jack asked with a ghost of a smile. He was amused to find his sister as bratty and confident as ever. Her bravery was admirable.
"I laugh in the face of death. But then again, I am Death."
They stood in the middle of the bridge, the two of them remembering another walk, another time, in their shared past. A happier memory.
An idea occurred to Mimi.
She turned toward her brother. They stood in front of each other, forehead to forehead, as they had all those centuries ago.
"I give myself to you," she whispered, linking her fingers into his. Those were the sacred words that began the ceremony. That was all the bond entailed. All he would have to do was repeat them back to her, and the bond would be resealed in a new lifetime. In this lifetime.
Jack held her delicate hands in his. He brought them up to his lips and kissed them passionately, deeply. He closed his eyes and held her trembling fingers, feeling with his mind her love, her desire, her whole soul, waiting on a precipice for his response.
