As Kian stepped forward, the crowd quieted.
"We are gathered here to present this fine young man to his elders. Tony is ready to attempt his transformation. In the short time he has been with us, he has proven his worth, helping Kaia and William in their research, and I'm sure he will contribute much more over the years to come. Vouching for him are William, Kaia, and Guardian Yamanu. Who volunteers to take on the burden of initiating Tony into his immortality?"
"I do," Yamanu announced.
Kian turned to Tony. "Tony, do you accept Guardian Yamanu as your initiator? As your mentor and protector, to honor him with your friendship, your respect, and your loyalty from now on?"
"I do."
"Very well." Kian turned to the crowd again. "Does anyone object to Tony becoming Yamanu's protégé?"
Silence.
"As everyone present agrees that it is a good match, let us seal it with a toast." Kian took a small paper cup filled with ceremonial wine from a tray his butler offered him, and then he waited until the butler had distributed cups to everyone else. "To Tony and Yamanu."
Tony emptied his cup in one go and put it back on the tray. Yamanu did the same, rolled his shoulders, and grinned at Tony. "Ready to dance, little brother?"
"I'm a terrible dancer."
"Then it's a good thing this isn'tDancing with the Stars." Yamanu began circling him slowly. "Come on, Tony. Show me what you've got."
Tony shifted his weight from foot to foot and raised his fists in what was probably supposed to be a fighting stance but looked more like a man trying to swat away a fly.
"Is that all you've got?" Yamanu teased. "You need to come at me and try to hit me."
"I'm trying."
"No, you're not. You're posing."
He was, and Tula felt embarrassed for him. Tony wasn't a fighter, and no one expected him to be, but even she could do better in a ring when prompted. Where were his survival instincts?
Tony threw a punch that was more like a dance move, then another, both slow, telegraphed, and utterly ineffective.
"Come on, Tony." Yamanu tried to sound encouraging, but his voice was edged with frustration. "I can't produce venom if you don't trigger my aggression. You need to make me think of you as a threat."
"But I'm not a threat. You could break me in half with your little finger."
"Then fake it. Pretend you're someone who could hurt me. Get angry."
Tony tried again. Another swing, another miss. His heart clearly wasn't in it.
This wasn't working. Tony was too much in his own head, too aware of the absurdity of trying to threaten a Guardian who was nearly twice his size and had centuries of combat experience.
He needed something else. Something to shake him out of his self-consciousness.
"Tony!" Tula called out. "Use your grandmother's curses!"
Every head in the room turned toward her.
Tony blinked. "What? They are Italian."
"I'll translate for Yamanu."
She had taught herself Italian, among many other languages, over the endless years in the harem. It wasn't as if there was much else to do.
Yamanu's grin widened. "I know a little Italian. Enough to understand juicy cussing."
"I don't want to offend you. My grandmother was very creative."
