Alchemists," explained Master Angeletti. "You didn't know? I assumed a rogue Alchemist is the last person you'd use to make your case." I was momentarily speechless. Was he saying... was he saying that Marcus Finch used to be an Alchemist? No. He couldn't be. If he had been, then Stanton would have known who he was. Unless she lied about not having any record of him, a voice in my head warned.
Master Jameson had apparently heard enough from me. "We appreciate you coming out here and respect your attempt to stand up for what you believe is true. We're also glad you were able to see just how strong we've become. I hope you'll take this news back to your order.
If anything, your attempts here have demonstrated what we've long known: our groups need each other. Clearly, the Alchemists have gleaned a lot of knowledge over the years that could be very useful to us - just as our strength could be useful to you. Nonetheless," he glanced over toward Sonya and scowled, "the point remains now that whatever your intentions, you truly have been deceived. Even if there's some tiny impossible chance that you're right, that she truly is a Moroi... we can't take the chance that she's still been corrupted. Even if she believes she's been restored, she may still have been subconsciously influenced." Again, I was speechless - but not because I appeared to have lost my case. Master Jameson's words were nearly identical to what Keith's father had said, when he'd told me Keith would be taken back to Re-education. Mr. Darnell had echoed the sentiment, that they couldn't take the risk of even a subtle bit of influence affecting Keith. Extreme actions had been required. We're the same, I thought. The Alchemists and the Warriors. Years have divided us, but we came from the same place - in both our goals and blind attitudes.
And then Master Jameson said the most shocking thing of all. "Even if she is just a Moroi, it's no great loss. We'll come for them eventually anyway, once we've defeated the Strigoi." I froze at those words. The blonde girl came forward and again forced me to sit down on the first row of the bleachers. I offered no resistance, too shocked at what I'd just heard. What did they mean they'd come for the Moroi? Sonya could just be the beginning, then the rest of my friends, and then Adrian...
Master Angeletti snapped me back to the present. He made a grand gesture toward Chris as he spoke. "By the divine power we have been granted to bring light and purity into this world, you are authorized to destroy this creature. Commence." Chris raised the sword, a fanatical gleam in his eyes. A happy gleam, even. He wanted to do this. He wanted to kill. Dimitri and Rose had killed many, many times, but both had told me there was no joy in it. They were glad to do what was right and defend others, but they didn't take pleasure in bringing death. I'd been taught the existence of vampires was wrong and twisted, but what I was about to witness was the true atrocity. These were the monsters.
I wanted to scream or cry or throw myself in front of Sonya. We were a heartbeat away from the death of a bright, caring person. Then, without warning, the silence of the arena was pierced with gunfire. Chris paused and lifted his head in surprise. I flinched and looked immediately toward the armed escort, wondering if they'd take it upon themselves to become a firing squad. They looked just as surprised as me - well, most of them. Two of them didn't show much emotion at all - because they were crumpled on the ground.
And that was when Dimitri and Eddie burst into the arena.
Chapter 22
SHOTS RANG OUT across the arena, taking down several more armed Warriors. I realized that Dimitri and Eddie weren't alone - because neither was holding a gun. The shots were coming from the roofs of the compound buildings that surrounded the arena. Chaos broke out as the gathered spectators jumped to their feet to join in the fray. My breath caught as I realized that many of them had their own weapons too. I was shocked to notice that the fallen Warrior on the ground next to me wasn't bleeding. A small dart hung from his shoulder. The sharpshooters' "bullets" must have been tranquilizers. Who were