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scribed this book in the twelfth century, we had no place to record our history. The pages have been bound and rebound, and we have added more pages as the decades have gone by.”
    As her aunt carefully turned the crisp brown sheets, they crackled like a gentle fire. Victoria saw images on some of them, and on others fading script, line after line. Ornate lettering, patterns, and illustrations in faded colors decorated the first letters of each book of the Bible. She saw the way hers and Aunt Eustacia’s lines in the family tree fell directly beneath that of the first Gardella, and how other Venators appeared randomly throughout other branches. Much of the text was too faint for her to read easily at this distance.
    â€œThis book holds not only the word of God, but also the secrets of the Gardella family, including the prayers and incantations that will empower your vis bulla. So now, my dear, are you ready to begin?”
    Victoria’s heart pounded. “Yes. I am.” It was a vow.
    â€œGood,” Eustacia said. “I will call the others.” At Victoria’s look of surprise, she continued, “The power behind your vis is not one that can be conducted only through me. Others who know of this matter and who, though not Venators, are nevertheless skilled and knowledgeable, await in the parlor. Please lie on that lounge there. You are already garbed appropriately. Come, lie down. I will call the others.”
    Victoria did as she was told, and settled herself on the long half chair that propped her back at a low angle and allowed her to extend her legs. She looked down at the training gown she wore. It was loose-fitting and buttoned from neckline to ankle.
    After that, things happened both quickly and infinitesimally slowly. Aunt Eustacia moved about the chamber, which had suddenly become much dimmer for it was lit only by candlelight. The other participants stayed in the shadows, but Victoria recognized Kritanu and Maximilian, as well as Briyani, Kritanu’s nephew, who also remained near the perimeter. Something sweet burned in the air, and Victoria felt relaxed and expectant.
    â€œNow we will begin by calling to mind the purpose for which we gather.” Eustacia began to speak in some language it took Victoria a moment to identify. Latin. The others joined in and the speaking continued. The smells in the room became stronger, and then Eustacia moved to stand next to Victoria.
    Her stomach shrank back toward her spine when she felt Eustacia’s warm, curling hands touch it. Then there was a delicate chill over her skin as one, then another button was undone. The cloth of her gown was pulled apart just over her belly, and from her angle Victoria could see the oblong patch of skin that included part of her abdomen and exposed her navel.
    â€œForged from silver in the land of the most holy of places,” said Eustacia, “this vis bulla will provide you uncommon strength and healing, Victoria Gardella. It will give you clarity and power when you need them the most, as you fight against the forces of evil that threaten our world.”
    Victoria watched as Kritanu pushed a small table next to her aunt, and she took a small jar filled with a clear liquid. Something glinted in the bottom of the jar. “This holy article, stored in blessed water from the Vatican, taken from the Holy Land, will be your strength.” Dipping in her fingers, she pulled out the small silver item: the vis bulla.
    Though the light was low, Victoria could easily see the delicate silver cross dangling from a thin silver hoop. The hoop was narrower than the size of a ring she might wear on her smallest finger, and the cross no larger than the nail on her first finger.
    As Victoria watched, Kritanu picked up a thin silver wand, perhaps the length of one’s palm and as slender as a needle. It curved gently, making a semicircle. Kritanu’s hands were warm on her abdomen, and Victoria felt her breath