wife's body. 
Instinctively, she turned to the dying woman, for one second entirely consumed by thirst. 

"Taha Aki's teeth closed around her neck. 

"That was not the end of the fight, but Taha Aki was not alone now. Watching their mother 
die, two young sons felt such rage that they sprang forth as their spirit wolves, though they 
were not yet men. With their father, they finished the creature. 

"Taha Aki never rejoined the tribe. He never changed back to a man again. He lay for one 
day beside the body of the third wife, growling whenever anyone tried to touch her, and then 
he went into the forest and never returned. 

"Trouble with the cold ones was rare from that time on. Taha Aki's sons guarded the tribe 
until their sons were old enough to take their places. There were never more than three 
wolves at a time. It was enough. Occasionally a blood drinker would come through these 
lands, but they were taken by surprise, not expecting the wolves. Sometimes a wolf would 
die, but never were they decimated again like that first time. They'd learned how to fight the 
cold ones, and they passed the knowledge on, wolf mind to wolf mind, spirit to spirit, father 
to son. 

"Time passed, and the descendants of Taha Aki no longer became wolves when they reached 
manhood. Only in a great while, if a cold one was near, would the wolves return. The cold 
ones always came in ones and twos, and the pack stayed small. 

"A bigger coven came, and your own great-grandfathers prepared to fight them off. But the 
leader spoke to Ephraim Black as if he were a man, and promised not to harm the Quileutes. 
His strange yellow eyes gave some proof to his claim that they were not the same as other 
blood drinkers. The wolves were outnumbered; there was no need for the cold ones to offer a 
treaty when they could have won the fight. Ephraim accepted. They've stayed true to their 
side, though their presence does tend to draw in others. 

"And their numbers have forced a larger pack than the tribe has ever seen," Old Quil said, 
and for one moment his black eyes, all but buried in the wrinkles of skin folded around them, 

 

seemed to rest on me. "Except, of course, in Taha Aki's time," he said, and then he sighed. 
"And so the sons of our tribe again carry the burden and share the sacrifice their fathers 
endured before them." 

All was silent for a long moment. The living descendants of magic and legend stared at one 
another across the fire with sadness in their eyes. All but one. 

"Burden," he scoffed in a low voice. "I think it's cool." Quil's full lower lip pouted out a little 
bit. 

Across the dying fire, Seth Clearwater - his eyes wide with adulation for the fraternity of 
tribal protectors - nodded his agreement. 

Billy chuckled, low and long, and the magic seemed to fade into the glowing embers. 
Suddenly, it was just a circle of friends again. Jared flicked a small stone at Quil, and 
everyone laughed when it made him jump. Low conversations murmured around us, teasing 
and casual. 

Leah Clearwater's eyes did not open. I thought I saw something sparkling on her cheek like a 
tear, but when I looked back a moment later it was gone. 

Neither Jacob nor I spoke. He was so still beside me, his breath so deep and even, that I 
thought he might be close to sleep. 

My mind was a thousand years away. I was not thinking of Yaha Uta or the other wolves, or 
the beautiful Cold Woman - I could pictureher only too easily. No, I was thinking of 
someone outside the magic altogether. I was trying to imagine the face of the unnamed 
woman who had saved the entire tribe, the third wife. 

Just a human woman, with no special gifts or powers. Physically weaker and slower than any 
of the monsters in the story. But she had been the key, the solution. She'd saved her husband, 
her young sons, her tribe. 

I wish they'd remembered her name. . . . 

Something shook my arm. 

"C'mon, Bells," Jacob said in my ear. "We're here." 

I blinked, confused because the fire seemed to have disappeared. I glared into the unexpected 
darkness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It took me a minute to realize that I was 
no longer on the cliff. Jacob and I were alone. I was still under his arm, but I wasn't on the 
ground anymore. 

How did I get in Jacob's car? 

"Oh, crap!" I gasped as I realized that I had fallen asleep. "How late is it? Dang it, where's 

 

that stupid phone?" I patted my pockets, frantic and coming up empty. 

"Easy. It's not even midnight yet. And I already called him for you. Look - he's waiting 
there." 

"Midnight?" I repeated stupidly, still disoriented. I stared into the darkness, and my heartbeat 
picked up when my eyes made out the shape of the Volvo, thirty yards away. I reached for 
the door handle. 

"Here," Jacob said, and he put a small shape into my other hand. The phone. 

"You called Edward for me?" 

My eyes were adjusted enough to see the bright gleam of Jacob's smile. "I figured if I played 
nice, I'd get more time with you." 

"Thanks, Jake," I said, touched. "Really, thank you. And thanks for inviting me tonight. That 
was . . ." Words failed me. "Wow. That was something else." 

"And you didn't even stay up to watch me swallow a cow." He laughed. "No, I'm glad you 
liked it. It was . . . nice for me. Having you there." 

There was a movement in the dark distance - something pale ghosting against the black 
trees. Pacing? 

"Yeah, he's not so patient, is he?" Jacob said, noticing my distraction. "Go ahead. But come 
back soon, okay?" 

"Sure, Jake," I promised, cracking the car door open. Cold air washed across my legs and 
made me shiver. 

"Sleep tight, Bells. Don't worry about anything - I'll be watching out for you tonight." 

I paused, one foot on the ground. "No, Jake. Get some rest, I'll be fine." 

"Sure, sure," he said, but he sounded more patronizing than agreeing. 

"'Night, Jake. Thanks." 

"'Night, Bella," he whispered as I hurried into the darkness. 

Edward caught me at the boundary line. 

"Bella," he said, relief strong in his voice; his arms wound tightly around me. 

"Hi. Sorry I'm so late. I fell asleep and -" 

"I know. Jacob explained." He started toward the car, and I staggered woodenly at his side. 

 

"Are you tired? I could carry you." 

"I'm fine." 

"Let's get you home and in bed. Did you have a nice time?" 

"Yeah - it was amazing, Edward. I wish you could have come. I can't even explain it. Jake's 
dad told us the old legends and it was like . . . like magic." 

"You'll have to tell me about it. After you've slept." 

"I won't get it right," I said, and then I yawned hugely. 

Edward chuckled. He opened my door for me, lifted me in, and buckled my seat belt around 
me. 

Bright lights flashed on and swept across us. I waved toward Jacob's headlights, but I didn't 
know if he saw the gesture. 

That night - after I'd gotten past Charlie, who didn't give me as much trouble as I'd expected 
because Jacob had called him, too - instead of collapsing in bed right away, I leaned out the 
open window while I waited for Edward to come back. The night was surprisingly cold, 
almost wintry. I hadn't noticed it at all on the windy cliffs; I imagined that had less to do with 
the fire than it did with sitting next to Jacob. 

Icy droplets spattered against my face as the rain began to fall. 

It was too dark to see much besides the black triangles of the spruces leaning and shaking 
with the wind. But I strained my eyes anyway, searching for other shapes in the storm. A pale 
silhouette, moving like a ghost through the black . . . or maybe the shadowy outline of an 
enormous wolf. . . . My eyes were too weak. 

Then there was a movement in the night, right beside me. Edward slid through my open 
window, his hands colder than the rain. 

"Is Jacob out there?" I asked, shivering as Edward pulled me into the circle of his arm. 

"Yes . . . somewhere. And Esme's on her way home." 

I sighed. "It's so cold and wet. This is silly." I shivered again. 

He chuckled. "It's only cold toyou, Bella." 

It was cold in my dream that night, too, maybe because I slept in Edward's arms. But I 
dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping my hair in my face and blinding my 
eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving 
shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore's edge. At first, there was nothing 
but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if 

 

the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything. 

Rosalie, her hair swinging wet and golden down to the back of her knees, was lunging at an 
enormous wolf - its muzzle shot through with silver - that I instinctively recognized as Billy 
Black. 

I broke into a run, but found myself moving in the frustrating slow motion of dreamers. I 
tried to scream to them, to tell them to stop, but my voice was stolen by the wind, and I 
could make no sound. I waved my arms, hoping to catch their attention. Something flashed 
in my hand, and I noticed for the first time that my right hand wasn't empty. 

I held a long, sharp blade, ancient and silver, crusted in dried, blackened blood. 

I cringed away from the knife, and my eyes snapped open to the quiet darkness of my 
bedroom. The first thing I realized was that I was not alone, and I turned to bury my face in 
Edward's chest, knowing the sweet scent of his skin would chase the nightmare away more 
effectively than anything else. 

"Did I wake you?" he whispered. There was the sound of paper, the ruffling of pages, and a 
faintthump as something light fell to the wooden floor. 

"No," I mumbled, sighing in contentment as his arms tightened around me. "I had a bad 
dream." 