whispering furiously. Milo's gaze was shifty, but he nodded a couple of times before straightening up and puffing out his chest. "By virtue of my role as vessel, and as a member in good standing in the Court of Divine Blood, I demand a renascence!"
There was a collective stunned gasp behind us, then utter silence.
He can't do that, can he? Overthrow the hierarchy like that?
I think he just did.
The mare got to their respective feet, all three standing in a tableau that reminded me, for some inane reason, of the three furies.
"On what grounds do you demand the renascence?" Disin asked, her voice deceptively soft.
Milo pointed at me. "The Court has been compromised. A non-member mortal holds the title of virtue, which is against the laws to which the hierarchy of the Court is bound."
"Portia is not yet a virtue," Theo argued, his arm sliding around my waist. I leaned into him, more than a little sick that everything had spiraled so far out of control. That I could be used as an excuse for the overthrow of the Court was unthinkable...wasn't it? "She will not claim that title until she completes the seventh trial."
"Which I am certainly not going to do now," I added.
Milo smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
Uh-oh. What's he smiling about?
I have a bad feeling it's about something Terrin was about to tell me when you showed up with Carol in tow.
"You are unfamiliar with our laws, nephilim. When a renascence is called, all scheduled business is completed before the Court is disbanded and remade."
My stomach tightened into a small wad of unhappiness.
"The seventh and final trial of the mortal Portia Harding is scheduled for today, if I am not mistaken," Milo continued. "Once she has completed it, the grounds for renascence will be satisfied, and by the laws that govern the Court, it must be destroyed before reformation."
"Well then, I simply won't do the seventh trial," I told him, relief filling me at this easy way out of the situation.
"You cannot stop the trial from commencing," Milo said. "As it is scheduled, it must be enacted."
"Fine. Enact away. I will simply do the opposite of whatever it is. Er...what is the seventh trial?"
"Faith," Terrin answered, his eyes unreadable. "It is a trial of your faith."
I laughed without the slightest shred of mirth. "Displaying a lack of faith is not going to be difficult for me." I turned to the mare to explain, wanting to make sure they understood that my feelings were grounded in a lifelong battle rather than a slight against the Court itself. "I grew up in a religious cult, one that required its members to show absolute, unbreakable faith in the leaders and religion itself. Anyone questioning the religion was severely punished. I believe I spent more time during my childhood locked in a closet, ordered to examine my sins and renounce my disbeliefs, than I did out of it. Faith is not a commodity I have in abundance. Because of this, I can just about guarantee you that I will fail the seventh trial."
"If you do so, then you throw away all chances of an exculpation for Theo North," Milo pointed out. "He will never be a member of the Court of Divine Blood. He will remain a nephilim, an outcast, tainted by the sins of his father, for the rest of his life. He will never have a soul."
I opened my mouth to say that we'd be just fine without Theo being a member of the Court, but stopped, stunned at Milo's words.
What was that about a soul?
Theo's sigh echoed through my mind. I wasn't going to tell you this, since it puts more pressure on you to obtain my exculpation, but members of the Court of Divine Blood cannot be soulless. If a member lacks one, it is granted when the membership is made official.
You knew this and you didn't tell me? I wanted to whap Theo on the arm, but now was not the time. Well, this makes everything so much easier. Instead of waiting around for an opportunity for me to make some big sacrifice on your behalf, I can get your soul back just by becoming a recognized virtue!
It's not quite that simple, sweetling, he said, his thoughts rich with emotion.
Theo, I know what it means to you -
No. You know what it meant to me. That was before I found you, before our lives were bound together. An exculpation is no longer as desirable as