Frostbite(Vampire Academy, Book 2)(24)

Some guy I didn't know was in charge of moderating and stood at the podium. Most of the royals on hand gathered at the front of the room. Everyone else, including students, took seats wherever they could. Christian and Mason had found Lissa and me by that point, and we all started to sit in the back when Lissa suddenly shook her head.

"I'm going to sit in the front."

The three of us stared at her. I was too dumbfounded to probe her mind.

"Look." She pointed. "The royals are sitting up there, sitting by family."

It was true. Members of the same clans had clustered near each other: Badicas, Ivashkovs, Zekloses, etc. Tasha sat there as well, but she was by herself. Christian was the only other Ozera there.

"I need to be up there," said Lissa.

"No one expects you to be there," I told her.

"I have to represent the Dragomirs."

Christian scoffed. "It's all a bunch of royal bullshit."

Her face set into a determined expression. "I need to be up there."

I opened myself up to Lissa's feelings and liked what I found. She'd spent most of the day quiet and afraid, much as she had when we'd found out about Mia's mom. That fear was within her still, but it was overpowered by a steady confidence and determination. She recognized that she was one of the ruling Moroi, and as much as the idea of roving bands of Strigoi scared her, she wanted to do her part.

"You should do it," I said softly. I also liked the idea of her defying Christian.

Lissa met my eyes and smiled. She knew what I had sensed. A moment later, she turned to Christian. "You should join your aunt."

Christian opened his mouth to protest. If not for the horribleness of the situation, seeing Lissa order him around would have been funny. He was always stubborn and difficult; those who tried to push him didn't succeed. Watching his face, I saw the same realization I'd had about Lissa come over him. He liked seeing her strong too. He pressed his lips together in a grimace.

"Okay." He caught her hand, and the two of them walked off toward the front.

Mason and I sat down. Just before things started, Dimitri sat down on the other side of me, hair tied behind his neck and the leather coat draping around him as he settled in the chair. I glanced at him in surprise but said nothing. There were few guardians at this gathering; most were too busy doing damage control. It would figure. There I was, stuck between both of my men.

The meeting kicked off shortly thereafter. Everyone was eager to talk about how they thought the Moroi should be saved, but really, two theories got the most attention.

"The answer's all around us," said one royal, once he'd been given leave to speak. He stood by his chair and looked around the room. "Here. In places like this lodge. And St. Vladimir's. We send our children to safe places, places where they have safety in numbers and can be easily guarded. And look how many of us made it here, children and adults alike. Why don't we live this way all the time?"

"Plenty of us already do," someone shouted back.

The man waved that off. "A couple of families here and there. Or a town with a large Moroi population. But those Moroi are still decentralized. Most don't pool their resources-their guardians, their magic. If we could emulate this model … " He spread his hands out. " …  we'd never have to worry about Strigoi again."

"And Moroi could never interact with the rest of the world again," I muttered. "Well, until humans discovered secret vampire cities sprouting up in the wilderness. Then we'd have lots of interactions."

The other theory about how to protect the Moroi involved fewer logistical problems but had greater personal impact- particularly for me.

"The problem is simply that we don't have enough guardians." This plan's advocate was some woman from the Szelsky clan. "And so, the answer is simple: get more. The Drozdovs had five guardians, and that wasn't enough. Only six to protect over a dozen Moroi! That's unacceptable. It's no wonder these kinds of things keep happening."

"Where do you propose getting more guardians from?" asked the man who'd been in favor of Moroi banding together. "They're kind of a limited resource."

She pointed to where I and a few other novices sat. "We've got plenty already. I've watched them train. They're deadly. Why are we waiting until they turn eighteen? If we accelerated the training program and focused more on combat training than bookwork, we could turn out new guardians when they're sixteen."

Dimitri made a sound low in his throat that didn't seem happy. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Not only that, we have plenty of potential guardians going to waste. Where are all the dhampir women? Our races are intertwined. The Moroi are doing their part to help the dhampirs survive. Why aren't these women doing theirs? Why aren't they here?"

A long, sultry laugh came as an answer. All eyes turned toward Tasha Ozera. Whereas many of the other royals had dressed up, she was easy and casual. She wore her usual jeans, a white tank top that showed a bit of midriff, and a blue, lacy knit cardigan that came to her knees.

Glancing at the moderator, she asked, "May I?"

He nodded. The Szelsky woman sat down; Tasha stood up. Unlike the other speakers, she strode right up to the podium, so she could be clearly seen by everyone. Her glossy black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, completely exposing her scars in a way I suspected was intentional. Her face was bold and defiant. Beautiful.

"Those women aren't here, Monica, because they're too busy raising their children-you know, the ones you want to start sending out to the fronts as soon as they can walk. And please don't insult us all by acting like the Moroi do a huge favor to the dhampirs by helping them reproduce. Maybe it's different in your family, but for the rest of us, sex is fun. The Moroi doing it with dhampirs aren't really making that big of a sacrifice."

Dimitri had straightened up now, his expression no longer angry. Probably he was excited that his new girlfriend had mentioned sex. Irritation shot through me, and I hoped that if I had a homicidal look on my face, people would assume it was for Strigoi and not the woman currently addressing us.

Beyond Dimitri, I suddenly noticed Mia sitting by herself, farther down the row. I hadn't realized she was here. She was slumped in her seat. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face paler than usual. A funny ache burned in my chest, one I'd never expected her to bring about.

"And the reason we're waiting for these guardians to turn eighteen is so that we can allow them to enjoy some pretense of a life before forcing them to spend the rest of their days in constant danger. They need those extra years to develop mentally as well as physically. Pull them out before they're ready, treat them like they're parts on an assembly line-and you're just creating Strigoi fodder."

A few people gasped at Tasha's callous choice of words, but she succeeded in getting everyone's attention.

"You create more fodder still if you try making the other dhampir women become guardians. You can't force them into that life if they don't want it. This entire plan of yours to get more guardians relies on throwing children and the unwilling into harm's way, just so you can-barely-stay one step ahead of the enemy. I would have said it's the stupidest plan I've ever heard, if I hadn't already had to listen to his."

She pointed at the first speaker, the one who had wanted Moroi compounds. Embarrassment clouded his features.

"Enlighten us then, Natasha," he said. "Tell us what you think we should do, seeing as you have so much experience with Strigoi."

A thin smile played on Tasha's lips, but she didn't rise to the insult. "What do I think?" She strode closer to the stage's front, gazing at us as she answered his question. "I think we should stop coming up with plans that involve us relying on someone or something to protect us. You think there are too few guardians? That's not the problem. The problem is there are too many Strigoi. And we've let them multiply and become more powerful because we do nothing about them except have stupid arguments like this. We run and hide behind the dhampirs and let the Strigoi go unchecked. It's our fault. We are the reason those Drozdovs died. You want an army? Well, here we are. Dhampirs aren't the only ones who can learn to fight. The question, Monica, isn't where the dhampir women are in this fight. The question is: Where are we?"

Tasha was shouting by now, and the exertion turned her cheeks pink. Her eyes shone with her impassioned feelings, and when combined with the rest of her pretty features-and even with the scar-she made a striking figure. Most people couldn't take their eyes off her. Lissa watched Tasha with wonder, inspired by her words. Mason looked hypnotized. Dimitri looked impressed. And farther past him  …

Farther past him was Mia. Mia no longer hunched in her chair. She was sitting up straight, straight as a stick, her eyes as wide as they could go. She stared at Tasha as though she alone held all the answers to life.

Monica Szelsky looked less awed, and she fixed her gaze on Tasha. "Surely you aren't suggesting the Moroi fight alongside the guardians when the Strigoi come?"

Tasha regarded her levelly. "No. I'm suggesting the Moroi and the guardians go fight the Strigoi before they come."

A guy in his twenties who looked like a Ralph Lauren spokesmodel shot up. I would have wagered money he was royal. No one else could have afforded blond highlights that perfect. He untied an expensive sweater from around his waist and draped it over the back of his chair. "Oh," he said in a mocking voice, speaking out of turn. "So, you're going to just give us clubs and stakes and send us off to do battle?"