"You shouldn't have made promises for me." Robert's napkin was now in shreds. I kind of wanted to give him mine.

"But didn't you want to see me?" asked Victor winningly. His tone was warm, his smile almost genuine.

Robert looked troubled. Confused. I was again reminded of a child and was starting to have my doubts that this guy had ever transformed a Strigoi.

He was spared an answer yet again when our drinks arrived. None of us had even picked up our menus, much to the waiter's obvious annoyance. He left, and I opened mine without really seeing it.

Victor then introduced us to Robert, as formally as he might at any diplomatic function. Prison hadn't dulled his sense of royal etiquette. Victor gave first names only. Robert turned back to me, that frown still on his face, and glanced between Lissa and me. Adrian had said that whenever we were together, our auras showed that we were linked.

"A bond . . . I've almost forgotten what it was like . . . but Alden. I've never forgotten Alden . . ." His eyes grew dreamy and almost vacant. He was reliving a memory.

"I'm sorry," I said, surprised to hear the sympathy in my words. This was hardly the harsh interrogation I'd envisioned. "I can only imagine what it must have been like . . . losing him. . . ."

The dreamy eyes grew sharp and hard. "No. You cannot. It's like nothing you can imagine. Nothing. Right now . . . right now . . . you have the world. A universe of senses beyond those of others, an understanding of another person that no one can have. To lose that . . . to have that ripped away . . . it would make you wish for death."

Wow. Robert was pretty good at killing conversation, and we all kind of sat there hoping the waiter would return this time. When he did, we all made halfhearted attempts at ordering food–except Robert–most of us deciding on the spot. The restaurant served Asian cuisine, and I ordered the first thing I saw on the menu: an egg roll sampler.

With food ordered, Victor continued taking the firm hand with Robert that I seemed incapable of managing.

"Will you help them? Will you answer their questions?"

I had a feeling that Victor was pushing Robert on this not so much as a way to pay back us rescuing him, but rather because Victor's scheming nature was dying to know everyone's secrets and motivations.

Robert sighed. Whenever he looked at Victor, there was such a strong expression of devotion and even idol worship. Robert probably couldn't refuse his brother anything. He was the perfect type to play into Victor's plans, and I realized I should possibly be grateful that Robert had grown unstable. If he'd been in full control of his powers, Victor would never have bothered with Lissa last time. He would have already had his own private spirit wielder to use however he wanted.

"What do you want to know?" asked Robert blearily. He addressed me, apparently recognizing my leadership.

I glanced at my friends for moral support and received none. Neither Lissa nor Adrian approved of this mission in the first place, and Eddie still didn't know its purpose. I swallowed, steeling myself, and directed my full attention to Robert.

"We heard you freed a Strigoi once. That you were able to convert him–or her–back to their original state."

Surprise flashed on Victor's usually composed face. He certainly hadn't expected this.

"Where did you hear this?" demanded Robert.

"From a couple I met in Russia. Their names are Mark and Oksana."

"Mark and Oksana . . ." Again, Robert's gaze slipped away for a moment. I had a feeling this happened a lot, that he didn't spend much time in reality. "I didn't know they were still together."

"They are. They're doing really great." I needed him back in the present. "Is it true? Did you do what they said? Is it possible?"

Robert's responses were always preceded by a pause. "Her."

"Huh?"

"It was a woman. I freed her."

I gasped in spite of myself, hardly daring to process his words.

"You're lying." It was Adrian who spoke, his tone harsh.

Robert glanced at him with an expression amused and scornful. "And who are you to say that? How can you tell? You've bruised and abused your powers so much, it's a wonder you can even touch the magic anymore. And all these things you do to yourself . . . it doesn't truly help, does it? Spirit's punishment still affects you . . . soon you won't be able to tell reality from dream. . . ."

The words stunned Adrian for a moment, but he kept going. "I don't need any physical signs to see that you're lying. I know you are because what you're describing is impossible. There's no way to save a Strigoi. When they're gone, they're gone. They're dead. Undead. Forever ."

"That which is dead doesn't always stay dead. . . ." Robert's words weren't directed at Adrian. They were spoken to me. I shivered.

"How? How did you do it?"

"With a stake. She was killed with a stake, and in doing so, was brought back to life."

"Okay," I said. "That is a lie. I've killed plenty of Strigoi with stakes, and believe me, they stay dead."

"Not just any stake." Robert's fingers danced along the edge of his glass. "A special stake."

"A stake charmed with spirit," said Lissa suddenly.

He lifted his eyes to her and smiled. It was a creepy smile. "Yes. You are a clever, clever girl. A clever, gentle girl. Gentle and kind. I can see it in your aura."

I stared off at the table, my mind in overdrive. A stake charmed with spirit. Silver stakes were charmed with the four main Moroi elements: earth, air, water, and fire. It was that infusion of life that destroyed the undead force within a Strigoi. With our recent discovery of how to charm objects with spirit, infusing a stake had never even occurred to us. Spirit healed. Spirit had brought me back from the dead. In joining with the other elements within a stake, was it truly possible that the twisted darkness that gripped Strigoi could be obliterated, thus restoring that person to their rightful state?

I was grateful for the food's arrival because my brain was still moving sluggishly. The egg rolls provided a welcome opportunity to think.

"Is it really that easy?" I asked at last.

Robert scoffed. "It's not easy at all."

"But you just said . . . you just said we need a spirit-charmed stake. And then I kill a Strigoi with it." Or well, not kill. The technicalities were irrelevant.

His smile returned. "Not you. You can't do it."

"Then who . . ." I stopped, the rest of my words dying on my lips. "No. No."

"The shadow-kissed don't have the gift of life. Only the spirit-blessed," he explained. "The question is: Who's capable of doing it? Gentle Girl or Drunken Sod?" His eyes flicked between Lissa and Adrian. "My wager would be on Gentle Girl."

Those words were what snapped me out of my stunned state. In fact, they were what shattered this whole thing, this far-fetched dream of saving Dimitri.

"No," I repeated. "Even if it was possible–and I'm not sure if I believe you–she can't do it. I won't let her."

And in a turn of events almost as astonishing as Robert's revelation, Lissa spun toward me, anger flooding our bond. "And since when can you tell me what I can or can't do?"

"Since I don't recall you ever taking guardian training and learning to stake a Strigoi," I returned evenly, trying to keep my voice calm. "You only punched Reed, and that was hard enough." When Avery Lazar had tried to take over Lissa's mind, she'd sent her shadow-kissed brother to do some dirty work. With my help, Lissa had punched him and kept him away. It had been beautifully executed, but she'd hated it.

"I did it, didn't I?" she exclaimed.

"Liss, throwing a punch is nothing like staking a Strigoi. And that's not even counting the fact that you have to get near one in the first place. You think you could get in range before one bit you or snapped your neck? No."