Theo swore, yanking at the steering wheel, pumping the brakes to get the car to stop without flipping.

"Bloody badgers, what's going on here?" a gruff woman's voice asked from the backseat.

"Merciful heaven! Stop!" another woman cried, grabbing Theo by the shoulders and shaking him.

The car fishtailed, hit the rocky shale that merged into the soft, mucky, marshy shore, and finally crashed to a halt in a huge mountain of discarded oyster shells. Seabirds, which had been picking through the shells, rose in a cloud of squawking protests. The screaming from the backseat stopped. I turned, shaking and no doubt white from shock, to look at Theo, asking him at the same time he asked me, "Are you all right?"

"I'm OK," I answered him, craning around to look behind us. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but two horribly familiar—if disordered—faces stared back at me. "What are you two doing here? And where is Sarah?"

"On the floor. Stop stepping on me." Sarah's head emerged from behind the seat, her hair mussed, her face flushed with emotion. "Ow. I hit my head. What happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Theo said, unsnapping his seat belt so he could turn around and glare at the people in the backseat. "Who are you two, and why have you materialized in my car?"

"They are the two women who administered my first trial," I answered, adding my own glare to Theo's. I pointed at the smaller woman. "That's Tansy. She's the one who beat me up."

"I didn't mean to," Tansy answered, wringing her hands. Both women were dressed just as they were a few days ago, Tansy still appearing like someone's beloved grandmother. "But you simply wouldn't defend yourself."

I ignored that. "The other woman is named Letty, I believe."

"Leticia de Maurier," the Dame Margaret woman answered, her voice stiff. She looked down her long nose at us. "We are trial proctors, nephilim. You will not question the ways of those of the Court of Divine Blood."

"We'll question whoever and whatever we want," I said grimly, watching Theo as he forced the car door open and got out. He half slid down the slope of oyster shells, fighting his way around to my side of the car. "You could have killed us!"

"Don't be silly—we're all immortal here. Well, almost all immortal," Dame Margaret said with a sour look at Sarah. "We are here to administer your next trial, naturally. Shall we commence?"

"Here?" I asked, allowing Theo to help me out of the car. We'd stopped at the bottom of a huge mountain of oyster shells, the back wheels of the car sunk deep into the mucky, muddy marshland. Overhead, the gulls and shorebirds we'd dislodged cried out their objections. The stench of rotting seaweed and brackish water in small, stagnant tidal pools was enough to trigger my gag reflex.

"No time like the present," Tansy said cheerfully as Theo held her arm while she slid her way down the oyster shells to a small spar of solid ground. "Thank you, dear boy. So handsome!"

"And very much taken," I said, grumbling as I picked my way down the shells. As I reached the bottom of the slope, I lost my footing, my arms cartwheeling like crazy as I fell the last couple of feet, rolling into the same muck that held the car's back tires prisoners. The mud was black, and smelled of decomposing matter, fish, and other unsavory odors I refused to identify.

"Oh, Portia!" Sarah cried from the safety of the oyster mound.

Theo lifted her and plopped her down onto the same solid piece of land that both Tansy and Dame Margaret occupied before starting toward me.

"No, stay back," I said, trying to rise. "You'll just sink in up to your knees. I'm not hurt, just filthy."

The mud was thick and dank, and made horrible sucking noises as I struggled to my feet. I lost my summer sandals somewhere in the muck as I sunk up to my knees, my linen pants soaked through with the horrible mess. The entire front side of me was black with sodden detritus, reeking with such a horrible odor that my eyes ran.

"Well, so long as you're all right, we shall commence with the trial," Dame Margaret said, marching over to a sun-bleached piece of tree-trunk driftwood and taking a seat on it. She pulled out a notebook. "As you are no doubt well aware, this is the trial for grace."

I took one step forward, lost my footing again, and fell facedown into the muck a second time.

Dame Margaret pursed her lips.

"Letty, perhaps we should wait," her companion said, watching as Theo pulled me to solid land.

I tried not to touch him with the stinking, filthy mess that covered me, spitting out bits of foul-tasting dirt and mud.

"No time to wait," Dame Margaret answered. "We've a schedule to keep to. Now, let's see…during this trial, you will demonstrate to us your grace, that innate sense which separates you from the mortals, and by which you will be known as a member of the Court of Divine Blood."

One seagull, braver than the others, evidently enjoyed the aroma I'd stirred up and tried to land on my head. I beat it off with a profanity that made Theo grin, Sarah cover her face with her hands, and Tansy gasp in horror.

"Indeed," Dame Margaret said, raising both eyebrows and making a note in her ever-present notebook.

I scorned Theo's offer of a hand, stomping my way over to where Dame Margaret sat. She rose as I approached, bits of mud falling off me to hit the ground with unpleasant splatting noises.

"Really, I must protest," Dame Margaret said, pulling out a handkerchief to hold at her nose. "Your stench is quite offensive."

Mud covered me from the top of my head to my bare feet, squishing out from between my toes, ground into my hair so deeply I'd probably have to wash it at least five times to get it all out. My clothes were ruined, soaked through to my skin. I stunk of dead fish and sewer through no fault of my own, the blame for my condition standing squarely in front of me, gently fanning the air with a pristine white handkerchief.

"Step away, Portia Harding. Your audacity in standing near me knows no bounds. We are offended."

Tansy gasped again.

My eyes narrowed at her. It would be so easy.

Sweetling, do not do what I know you are thinking of doing, Theo warned. No matter how much she goads you, she is still a member of the Court, and your trial proctor.

She caused the whole thing! She popped into the car without warning, and her buddy grabbed you and kept you from steering properly! It's all her fault that I'm a walking, fishy cesspool!

No good will come of you seeking revenge.

Oh, I beg to differ. A whole lot of good will come from it—it will do my spleen tremendous good to see her as filthy as I am.

"You are delaying us unnecessarily," Dame Margaret said, holding the handkerchief to her nose again. "I will make note of your attempts to deprecate this trial."

"Deprecate!" I stared Dame Margaret in the eye, my hands itching to grab her and toss her into the mud. It would only be fair, after all.

Sweetling…

I took a deep breath, choked on my own stench, and turned around, stumbling away with my head held high. Don't worry, I won't do it, no matter how much I'd give to see her as filthy as me.

"If you leave now, it will be so noted on the trial records," Dame Margaret yelled after me. "Do not expect another chance, for there will be none!"

I muttered profanity after profanity to myself as I fought my way up the grassy slope to the road.

"Does she know that if she fails this trial, it will all be over?" Tansy asked her companion.

"She knows," Dame Margaret trumpeted. "She is simply too cowardly to face us! Her attitude is reprehensible! She is not worthy of the virtue name!"

Damn the trial. Damn everything and everyone…except Theo.

One of the gulls crapped on me as it flew over my head.