Breaking Dawn

      Barely a second had passed. Edward was still walking to Aro. Everything had changed absolutely, but no one had noticed the explosion except for me. A startled laugh burst through my lips. I felt the others glancing at me and saw Jacob’s big black eye roll down to stare at me like I’d lost my mind.
      Edward stopped a few steps away from Aro, and I realized with some chagrin that though I certainly could, I shouldnot prevent this exchange from happening. This was the point of all our preparations: getting Aro to hear our side of the story. It was almost physically painful to do it, but reluctantly I pulled my shield back and left Edward exposed again. The laughing mood had vanished. I focused totally on Edward, ready to shield him instantly if something went wrong.
      Edward’s chin came up arrogantly, and he held his hand out to Aro as if he were conferring a great honor. Aro seemed only delighted with his attitude, but his delight was not universal. Renata fluttered nervously in Aro’s shadow. Caius’s scowl was so deep it looked like his papery, translucent skin would crease permanently. Little Jane showed her teeth, and beside her Alec’s eyes narrowed in concentration. I guessed that he was ready, like me, to act at a second’s notice.
      Aro closed the distance without pause—and really, what did he have to fear? The hulking shadows of the lighter gray cloaks—the brawny fighters like Felix—were but a few yards away. Jane and her burning gift could throw Edward on the ground, writhing in agony. Alec could blind and deafen him before he could take a step in Aro’s direction. No one knew that I had the power to stop them, not even Edward.
      With an untroubled smile, Aro took Edward’s hand. His eyes snapped shut at once, and then his shoulders hunched under the onslaught of information.
      Every secret thought, every strategy, every insight—everything Edward had heard in the minds around him during the last month—was now Aro’s. And further back—every vision of Alice’s, every quiet moment with our family, every picture in Renesmee’s head, every kiss, every touch between Edward and me… All of that was Aro’s now, too.
      I hissed with frustration, and the shield roiled with my irritation, shifting its shape and contracting around our side.
      “Easy, Bella,” Zafrina whispered to me.
      I clenched my teeth together.
      Aro continued to concentrate on Edward’s memories. Edward’s head bowed, too, the muscles in his neck locking tight as he read back again everything that Aro took from him, and Aro’s response to it all.
      This two-way but unequal conversation continued long enough that even the guard grew uneasy. Low murmurs ran through the line until Caius barked a sharp order for silence. Jane was edging forward like she couldn’t help herself, and Renata’s face was rigid with distress. For a moment, I examined this powerful shield that seemed so panicky and weak; though she was useful to Aro, I could tell she was no warrior. It was not her job to fight but to protect. There was no bloodlust in her. Raw as I was, I knew that if this were between her and me, I would obliterate her.
      I refocused as Aro straightened, his eyes flashing open, their expression awed and wary. He did not release Edward’s hand.
      Edward’s muscles loosened ever so slightly.
      “You see?” Edward asked, his velvet voice calm.
      “Yes, I see, indeed,” Aro agreed, and amazingly, he sounded almost amused. “I doubt whether any two among gods or mortals have ever seen quite so clearly.”
      The disciplined faces of the guard showed the same disbelief I felt.
      “You have given me much to ponder, young friend,” Aro continued. “Much more than I expected.” Still he did not release Edward’s hand, and Edward’s tense stance was that of one who listens.
      Edward didn’t answer.
      “May I meet her?” Aro asked—almost pleaded—with sudden eager interest. “I never dreamed of the existence of such a thing in all my centuries. What an addition to our histories!”
      “What is this about, Aro?” Caius snapped before Edward could answer. Just the question had me pulling Renesmee around into my arms, cradling her protectively against my chest.
      “Something you’ve never dreamed of, my practical friend. Take a moment to ponder, for the justice we intended to deliver no longer applies.”
      Caius hissed in surprise at his words.
      “Peace, brother,” Aro cautioned soothingly.
      This should have been good news—these were the words we’d been hoping for, the reprieve we’d never really thought possible. Aro had listened to the truth. Aro had admitted that the law had not been broken.
      But my eyes were riveted on Edward, and I saw the muscles in his back tighten. I replayed in my head Aro’s instruction for Caius to ponder, and heard the double meaning.
      “Will you introduce me to your daughter?” Aro asked Edward again.
      Caius was not the only one who hissed at this new revelation.
      Edward nodded reluctantly. And yet, Renesmee had won over so many others. Aro always seemed the leader of the ancients. If he were on her side, could the others act against us?
      Aro still gripped Edward’s hand, and he now answered a question that the rest of us had not heard.
      “I think a compromise on this one point is certainly acceptable, under the circumstance. We will meet in the middle.”
      Aro released his hand. Edward turned back toward us, and Aro joined him, throwing one arm casually over Edward’s shoulder like they were the best of friends—all the while maintaining contact with Edward’s skin. They began to cross the field back to our side.
      The entire guard fell into step behind them. Aro raised a hand negligently without looking at them.
      “Hold, my dear ones. Truly, they mean us no harm if we are peaceable.”
      The guard reacted to this more openly than before, with snarls and hisses of protest, but held their position. Renata, clinging closer to Aro than ever, whimpered in anxiety.
      “Master,” she whispered.
      “Don’t fret, my love,” he responded. “All is well.”
      “Perhaps you should bring a few members of your guard with us,” Edward suggested. “It will make them more comfortable.”
      Aro nodded as if this was a wise observation he should have thought of himself. He snapped his fingers twice. “Felix, Demetri.”
      The two vampires were at his side instantaneously, looking precisely the same as the last time I’d met them. Both were tall and dark-haired, Demetri hard and lean as the blade of a sword, Felix hulking and menacing as an iron-spiked cudgel.
      The five of them stopped in the middle of the snowy field.
      “Bella,” Edward called. “Bring Renesmee… and a few friends.”
      I took a deep breath. My body was tight with opposition. The idea of taking Renesmee into the center of the conflict… But I trusted Edward. He would know if Aro was planning any treachery at this point.
      Aro had three protectors on his side of the summit, so I would bring two with me. It took me only a second to decide.
      “Jacob? Emmett?” I asked quietly. Emmett, because he would be dying to go. Jacob, because he wouldn’t be able to bear being left behind.
      Both nodded. Emmett grinned.
      I crossed the field with them flanking me. I heard another rumble from the guard as they saw my choices—clearly, they did not trust the werewolf. Aro lifted his hand, waving away their protest again.
      “Interesting company you keep,” Demetri murmured to Edward.
      Edward didn’t respond, but a low growl slipped through Jacob’s teeth.
      We stopped a few yards from Aro. Edward ducked under Aro’s arm and quickly joined us, taking my hand.
      For a moment we faced each other in silence. Then Felix greeted me in a low aside.
      “Hello again, Bella.” He grinned cockily while still tracking Jacob’s every twitch with his peripheral vision.
      I smiled wryly at the mountainous vampire. “Hey, Felix.”
      Felix chuckled. “You look good. Immortality suits you.”
      “Thanks so much.”
      “You’re welcome. It’s too bad . . .”
      He let his comment trail off into silence, but I didn’t need Edward’s gift to imagine the end. It’s too bad we’re going to kill you in a sec.
      “Yes, too bad, isn’t it?” I murmured.
      Felix winked.
      Aro paid no attention to our exchange. He leaned his head to one side, fascinated. “I hear her strange heart,” he murmured with an almost musical lilt to his words. “I smell her strange scent.” Then his hazy eyes shifted to me. “In truth, young Bella, immortality does become you most extraordinarily,” he said. “It is as if you were designed for this life.”
      I nodded once in acknowledgment of his flattery.
      “You liked my gift?” he asked, eyeing the pendant I wore.
      “It’s beautiful, and very, very generous of you. Thank you. I probably should have sent a note.”
      Aro laughed delightedly. “It’s just a little something I had lying around. I thought it might complement your new face, and so it does.”
      I heard a little hiss from the center of the Volturi line. I glanced over Aro’s shoulder.
      Hmm. It seemed Jane wasn’t happy about the fact that Aro had given me a present.
      Aro cleared his throat to reclaim my attention. “May I greet your daughter, lovely Bella?” he asked sweetly.
      This was what we’d hoped for, I reminded myself. Fighting the urge to take Renesmee and run for it, I walked two slow steps forward. My shield rippled out behind me like a cape, protecting the rest of my family while Renesmee was left exposed. It felt wrong, horrible.
      Aro met us, his face beaming.
      “But she’s exquisite,” he murmured. “So like you and Edward.” And then louder, “Hello, Renesmee.”
      Renesmee looked at me quickly. I nodded.
      “Hello, Aro,” she answered formally in her high, ringing voice.
      Aro’s eyes were bemused.
      “What is it?” Caius hissed from behind. He seemed infuriated by the need to ask.
      “Half mortal, half immortal,” Aro announced to him and the rest of the guard without turning his enthralled gaze from Renesmee. “Conceived so, and carried by this newborn while she was still human.”
      “Impossible,” Caius scoffed.
      “Do you think they’ve fooled me, then, brother?” Aro’s expression was greatly amused, but Caius flinched. “Is the heartbeat you hear a trickery as well?”
      Caius scowled, looking as chagrined as if Aro’s gentle questions had been blows.
      “Calmly and carefully, brother,” Aro cautioned, still smiling at Renesmee. “I know well how you love your justice, but there is no justice in acting against this unique little one for her parentage. And so much to learn, so much to learn! I know you don’t have my enthusiasm for collecting histories, but be tolerant with me, brother, as I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability. We came expecting only justice and the sadness of false friends, but look what we have gained instead! A new, bright knowledge of ourselves, our possibilities.”
      He held out his hand to Renesmee in invitation. But this was not what she wanted. She leaned away from me, stretching upward, to touch her fingertips to Aro’s face.
      Aro did not react with shock as almost everyone else had reacted to this performance from Renesmee; he was as used to the flow of thought and memory from other minds as Edward was.
      His smile widened, and he sighed in satisfaction. “Brilliant,” he whispered.
      Renesmee relaxed back into my arms, her little face very serious.
      “Please?” she asked him.
      His smile turned gentle. “Of course I have no desire to harm your loved ones, precious Renesmee.”
      Aro’s voice was so comforting and affectionate, it took me in for a second. And then I heard Edward’s teeth grind together and, far behind us, Maggie’s outraged hiss at the lie.
      “I wonder,” Aro said thoughtfully, seeming unaware of the reaction to his previous words. His eyes moved unexpectedly to Jacob, and instead of the disgust the other Volturi viewed the giant wolf with, Aro’s eyes were filled with a longing that I did not comprehend.
      “It doesn’t work that way,” Edward said, the careful neutrality gone from his suddenly harsh tone.
      “Just an errant thought,” Aro said, appraising Jacob openly, and then his eyes moved slowly across the two lines of werewolves behind us. Whatever Renesmee had shown him, it made the wolves suddenly interesting to him.
      “They don’t belongto us, Aro. They don’t follow our commands that way. They’re here because they want to be.”
      Jacob growled menacingly.
      “They seem quite attached to you, though,” Aro said. “And your young mate and your… family. Loyal.” His voice caressed the word softly.
      “They’re committed to protecting human life, Aro. That makes them able to coexist with us, but hardly with you. Unless you’re rethinking your lifestyle.”
      Aro laughed merrily. “Just an errant thought,” he repeated. “You well know how that is. We none of us can entirely control our subconscious desires.”
      Edward grimaced. “I do know how that is. And I also know the difference between that kind of thought and the kind with a purpose behind it. It could never work, Aro.”
      Jacob’s vast head turned in Edward’s direction, and a faint whine slipped from between his teeth.
      “He’s intrigued with the idea of… guard dogs,” Edward murmured back.
      There was one second of dead silence, and then the sound of the furious snarls ripping from the entire pack filled the giant clearing.
      There was a sharp bark of command—from Sam, I guessed, though I didn’t turn to look—and the complaint broke off into ominous quiet.
      “I suppose that answers that question,” Aro said, laughing again. “ Thislot has picked its side.”
      Edward hissed and leaned forward. I clutched at his arm, wondering what could be in Aro’s thoughts that would make him react so violently, while Felix and Demetri slipped into crouches in synchronization. Aro waved them off again. They all returned to their former posture, Edward included.
      “So much to discuss,” Aro said, his tone suddenly that of an inundated businessman. “So much to decide. If you and your furry protector will excuse me, my dear Cullens, I must confer with my brothers.”

37 CONTRIVANCES

      Aro did not rejoin his anxious guard waiting on the north side of the clearing; instead, he waved them forward.
      Edward started backing up immediately, pulling my arm and Emmett’s. We hurried backward, keeping our eyes on the advancing threat. Jacob retreated slowest, the fur on his shoulders standing straight up as he bared his fangs at Aro. Renesmee grabbed the end of his tail as we retreated; she held it like a leash, forcing him to stay with us. We reached our family at the same time that the dark cloaks surrounded Aro again.
      Now there were only fifty yards between them and us—a distance any of us could leap in just a fraction of a second.
      Caius began arguing with Aro at once.
      “How can you abide this infamy? Why do we stand here impotently in the face of such an outrageous crime, covered by such a ridiculous deception?” He held his arms rigidly at his sides, his hands curled into claws. I wondered why he did not just touch Aro to share his opinion. Were we seeing a division in their ranks already? Could we be that lucky?
      “Because it’s all true,” Aro told him calmly. “Every word of it. See how many witnesses stand ready to give evidence that they have seen this miraculous child grow and mature in just the short time they’ve known her. That they have felt the warmth of the blood that pulses in her veins.” Aro’s gesture swept from Amun on one side across to Siobhan on the other.
      Caius reacted oddly to Aro’s soothing words, starting ever so slightly at the mention of witnesses. The anger drained from his features, replaced by a cold calculation. He glanced at the Volturi witnesses with an expression that looked vaguely… nervous.
      I glanced at the angry mob, too, and saw immediately that the description no longer applied. The frenzy for action had turned to confusion. Whispered conversations seethed through the crowd as they tried to make sense of what had happened.
      Caius was frowning, deep in thought. His speculative expression stoked the flames of my smoldering anger at the same time that it worried me. What if the guard acted again on some invisible signal, as they had in their march? Anxiously, I inspected my shield; it felt just as impenetrable as before. I flexed it now into a low, wide dome that arced over our company.
      I could feel the sharp plumes of light where my family and friends stood—each one an individual flavor that I thought I would be able to recognize with practice. I already knew Edward’s—his was the very brightest of them all. The extra empty space around the shining spots bothered me; there was no physical barrier to the shield, and if any of the talented Volturi got underit, it would protect no one but me. I felt my forehead crease as I pulled the elastic armor very carefully closer. Carlisle was the farthest forward; I sucked the shield back inch by inch, trying to wrap it as exactly to his body as I could.
      My shield seemed to want to cooperate. It hugged his shape; when Carlisle shifted to the side to stand nearer to Tanya, the elastic stretched with him, drawn to his spark.
      Fascinated, I tugged in more threads of the fabric, pulling it around each glimmering shape that was a friend or ally. The shield clung to them willingly, moving as they moved.
      Only a second had passed; Caius was still deliberating.
      “The werewolves,” he murmured at last.
      With sudden panic, I realized that most of the werewolves were unprotected. I was about to reach out to them when I realize that, strangely, I could still feel their sparks. Curious, I drew the shield tighter in, until Amun and Kebi—the farthest edge of our group—were outside with the wolves. Once they were on the other side, their lights vanished. They no longer existed to that new sense. But the wolves were still bright flames—or rather, half of them were. Hmm… I edged outward again, and as soon as Sam was under cover, all the wolves were brilliant sparks again.
      Their minds must have been more interconnected than I’d imagined. If the Alpha was inside my shield, the rest of their minds were every bit as protected as his.
      “Ah, brother…,” Aro answered Caius’s statement with a pained look.
      “Will you defend that alliance, too, Aro?” Caius demanded. “The Children of the Moon have been our bitter enemies from the dawn of time. We have hunted them to near extinction in Europe and Asia. Yet Carlisle encourages a familiar relationship with this enormous infestation—no doubt in an attempt to overthrow us. The better to protect his warped lifestyle.”
      Edward cleared his throat loudly and Caius glared at him. Aro placed one thin, delicate hand over his own face as if he was embarrassed for the other ancient.
      “Caius, it’s the middle of the day,” Edward pointed out. He gestured to Jacob. “These are not Children of the Moon, clearly. They bear no relation to your enemies on the other side of the world.”
      “You breed mutants here,” Caius spit back at him.
      Edward’s jaw clenched and unclenched, then he answered evenly, “They aren’t even werewolves. Aro can tell you all about it if you don’t believe me.”
      Not werewolves? I shot a mystified look at Jacob. He lifted his huge shoulders and let them drop—a shrug. He didn’t know what Edward was talking about, either.
      “Dear Caius, I would have warned you not to press this point if you had told me your thoughts,” Aro murmured. “Though the creatures think of themselves as werewolves, they are not. The more accurate name for them would be shape-shifters. The choice of a wolf form was purely chance. It could have been a bear or a hawk or a panther when the first change was made. These creatures truly have nothing to do with the Children of the Moon. They have merely inherited this skill from their fathers. It’s genetic—they do not continue their species by infecting others the way true werewolves do.”
      Caius glared at Aro with irritation and something more—an accusation of betrayal, maybe.
      “They know our secret,” he said flatly.
      Edward looked about to answer this accusation, but Aro spoke faster. “They are creatures of our supernatural world, brother. Perhaps even more dependent upon secrecy than we are; they can hardly expose us. Carefully, Caius. Specious allegations get us nowhere.”
      Caius took a deep breath and nodded. They exchanged a long, significant glance.
      I thought I understood the instruction behind Aro’s careful wording. False charges weren’t helping convince the watching witnesses on either side; Aro was cautioning Caius to move on to the next strategy. I wondered if the reason behind the apparent strain between the two ancients—Caius’s unwillingness to share his thoughts with a touch—was that Caius didn’t care about the show as much as Aro did. If the coming slaughter was so much more essential to Caius than an untarnished reputation.
      “I want to talk to the informant,” Caius announced abruptly, and turned his glare on Irina.
      Irina wasn’t paying attention to Caius and Aro’s conversation; her face was twisted in agony, her eyes locked on her sisters, lined up to die. It was clear on her face that she knew now her accusation had been totally false.
      “Irina,” Caius barked, unhappy to have to address her.
      She looked up, startled and instantly afraid.
      Caius snapped his fingers.
      Hesitantly, she moved from the fringes of the Volturi formation to stand in front of Caius again.
      “So you appear to have been quite mistaken in your allegations,” Caius began.
      Tanya and Kate leaned forward anxiously.
      “I’m sorry,” Irina whispered. “I should have made sure of what I was seeing. But I had no idea. . . .” She gestured helplessly in our direction.
      “Dear Caius, could you expect her to have guessed in an instant something so strange and impossible?” Aro asked. “Any of us would have made the same assumption.”
      Caius flicked his fingers at Aro to silence him.
      “We all know you made a mistake,” he said brusquely. “I meant to speak of your motivations.”
      Irina waited nervously for him to continue, and then repeated, “My motivations?”
      “Yes, for coming to spy on them in the first place.”
      Irina flinched at the word spy.
      “You were unhappy with the Cullens, were you not?”
      She turned her miserable eyes to Carlisle’s face. “I was,” she admitted.
      “Because… ?” Caius prompted.
      “Because the werewolves killed my friend,” she whispered. “And the Cullens wouldn’t stand aside to let me avenge him.”
      “The shape-shifters,” Aro corrected quietly.
      “So the Cullens sided with the shape-shiftersagainst our own kind—against the friend of a friend, even,” Caius summarized.
      I heard Edward make a disgusted sound under his breath. Caius was ticking down his list, looking for an accusation that would stick.
      Irina’s shoulders stiffened. “That’s how I saw it.”
      Caius waited again and then prompted, “If you’d like to make a formal complaint against the shape-shifters—and the Cullens for supporting their actions—now would be the time.” He smiled a tiny cruel smile, waiting for Irina to give him his next excuse.
      Maybe Caius didn’t understand real families—relationships based on love rather than just the love of power. Maybe he overestimated the potency of vengeance.
      Irina’s jaw jerked up, her shoulders squared.
      “No, I have no complaint against the wolves, or the Cullens. You came here today to destroy an immortal child. No immortal child exists. This was my mistake, and I take full responsibility for it. But the Cullens are innocent, and you have no reason to still be here. I’m so sorry,” she said to us, and then she turned her face toward the Volturi witnesses. “There was no crime. There’s no valid reason for you to continue here.”
      Caius raised his hand as she spoke, and in it was a strange metal object, carved and ornate.
      This was a signal. The response was so fast that we all stared in stunned disbelief while it happened. Before there was time to react, it was over.
      Three of the Volturi soldiers leaped forward, and Irina was completely obscured by their gray cloaks. In the same instant, a horrible metallic screeching ripped through the clearing. Caius slithered into the center of the gray melee, and the shocking squealing sound exploded into a startling upward shower of sparks and tongues of flame. The soldiers leaped back from the sudden inferno, immediately retaking their places in the guard’s perfectly straight line.
      Caius stood alone beside the blazing remains of Irina, the metal object in his hand still throwing a thick jet of flame into the pyre.
      With a small clicking sound, the fire shooting from Caius’s hand disappeared. A gasp rippled through the mass of witnesses behind the Volturi.
      We were too aghast to make any noise at all. It was one thing to know that death was coming with fierce, unstoppable speed; it was another thing to watch it happen.
      Caius smiled coldly. “ Nowshe has taken full responsibility for her actions.”
      His eyes flashed to our front line, touching swiftly on Tanya’s and Kate’s frozen forms.
      In that second I understood that Caius had never underestimated the ties of a true family. Thiswas the ploy. He had not wanted Irina’s complaint; he had wanted her defiance. His excuse to destroy her, to ignite the violence that filled the air like a thick, combustible mist. He had thrown a match.
      The strained peace of this summit already teetered more precariously than an elephant on a tightrope. Once the fight began, there would be no way to stop it. It would only escalate until one side was entirely extinct. Our side. Caius knew this.
      So did Edward.
      “Stop them!” Edward cried out, jumping to grab Tanya’s arm as she lurched forward toward the smiling Caius with a maddened cry of pure rage. She couldn’t shake Edward off before Carlisle had his arms locked around her waist.
      “It’s too late to help her,” he reasoned urgently as she struggled. “Don’t give him what he wants!”
      Kate was harder to contain. Shrieking wordlessly like Tanya, she broke into the first stride of the attack that would end with everyone’s death. Rosalie was closest to her, but before Rose could clinch her in a headlock, Kate shocked her so violently that Rose crumpled to the ground. Emmett caught Kate’s arm and threw her down, then staggered back, his knees giving out. Kate rolled to her feet, and it looked like no one could stop her.
      Garrett flung himself at her, knocking her to the ground again. He bound his arms around hers, locking his hands around his own wrists. I saw his body spasm as she shocked him. His eyes rolled back in his head, but his hold did not break.
      “Zafrina,” Edward shouted.
      Kate’s eyes went blank and her screams turned to moans. Tanya stopped struggling.
      “Give me my sight back,” Tanya hissed.
      Desperately, but with all the delicacy I could manage, I pulled my shield even tighter against the sparks of my friends, peeling it back carefully from Kate while trying to keep it around Garrett, making it a thin skin between them.
      And then Garrett was in command of himself again, holding Kate to the snow.
      “If I let you up, will you knock me down again, Katie?” he whispered.
      She snarled in response, still thrashing blindly.
      “Listen to me, Tanya, Kate,” Carlisle said in a low but intense whisper. “Vengeance doesn’t help her now. Irina wouldn’t want you to waste your lives this way. Think about what you’re doing. If you attack them, we all die.”
      Tanya’s shoulders hunched with grief, and she leaned into Carlisle for support. Kate was finally still. Carlisle and Garrett continued to console the sisters with words too urgent to sound like comfort.
      And my attention returned to the weight of the stares that pressed down on our moment of chaos. From the corners of my eyes, I could see that Edward and everyone else besides Carlisle and Garrett were on their guard again as well.
      The heaviest glare came from Caius, staring with enraged disbelief at Kate and Garrett in the snow. Aro was watching the same two, incredulity the strongest emotion on his face. He knew what Kate could do. He had felt her potency through Edward’s memories.
      Did he understand what was happening now—did he see that my shield had grown in strength and subtlety far beyond what Edward knew me to be capable of? Or did he think Garrett had learned his own form of immunity?
      The Volturi guard no longer stood at disciplined attention—they were crouched forward, waiting to spring the counterstrike the moment we attacked.
      Behind them, forty-three witnesses watched with very different expressions than the ones they’d worn entering the clearing. Confusion had turned to suspicion. The lightning-fast destruction of Irina had shaken them all. What had been her crime?
      Without the immediate attack that Caius had counted on to distract from his rash act, the Volturi witnesses were left questioning exactly what was going on here. Aro glanced back swiftly while I watched, his face betraying him with one flash of vexation. His need for an audience had backfired badly.