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Chapter Text

The Gatehouse smelled oddly sweet, a mixture of Caroline’s stale perfume and decay. Perhaps Bee was imagining that second bit, though, as she dropped her suitcase by the steadily-growing pile of boxes in the entrance hall. So this is home for the time being, she mused, staring up at the vaulted ceilings and carved wooden walls that made up the skeleton of the Gatehouse. If the stone turret outside hadn’t been imposing enough, the inside certainly pushed the intimidation just a bit further.

Caroline’s chastising voice drifted in through the ajar front door, and Bee half-turned, peering outside to see what had upset her. “Be careful with that!” she chided at one of the movers as he tried to finagle the reason for their move in the first place: the tall, heavy tank wrapped in white linens like a mummy. “It’s fragile.”

The mover grunted while he tried to shift the mammoth thing. “What’s in it, a dead body?” he joked dryly.

Bee couldn’t hold back a slight laugh at just how accurate the man was, earning herself a sharp look from Caroline that she acknowledged with a little shrug. “Auntie, is there anything I can bring up to make this go faster?” she asked, and the sharp look turned into a withering stare.

“No, Bellona,” her aunt replied through gritted teeth, and the use of her full name clued Bee into the fact that perhaps it was in her best interest to lay low for a bit until everything was all sorted. “These… nice men have it covered, I think. Why don’t you go pick out a room, and get out of their hair for a bit?"

Bee raised her eyebrow at Caroline’s tense attitude, but relented with a subtle nod. This was a stressful time for the both of them, and that was putting it lightly. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that she was short with her, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t a little aggravating.

Nevertheless, she did as she was told and returned inside, scooping up her suitcase and ascending the stairs to the parlor. It was somehow grander than the ground floor, with the same vaulted ceiling and wooden walls, only now with the addition of opulent wallpaper, a stone hearth, satined glass windows, a row of plush red pews lining the right wall, and a grand organ at the far end of the room. It reminded her of a church. Bee whistled to herself, running a hand along the carved mahogany back of one of the couches, taking it all in. The whole place was shockingly beautiful, but despite its size, the Gatehouse already had a sort of claustrophobic atmosphere. Maybe it was because the ornate, yet dated style was so reminiscent of her mother’s house, but Bee couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped.

She knew somewhere in the house was a secret room where the tank was to be kept until the ceremony, and with that in mind, she began to explore, taking a left down one of the side doors off the drawing room. It was a hallway, lined with a few doors, each one leading to a small bedroom. At the far end was the master bedroom, where Caroline would no doubt sleep, so Bee doubled back to one of the smaller rooms— the one with a window— and set her bag down. For the next ten or so months, this was to be her room. It would do.

While she unpacked, a few of the movers popped in and out of the house, and Bee could occasionally hear her aunt barking out orders. Soon enough, though, the Gatehouse fell mostly silent as the men filtered out and drove away. About fifteen minutes after they left, Bee heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway and a knock on the door.

“It’s open,” she called, placing down the last piece of her chess set. All in all, she’d managed to turn her room into something cozy. This choice had been a positive one, Bee was certain.

Caroline opened the door and leaned against the frame, surveying the room with her pale blue eyes. “You’ve certainly made yourself at home,” she mused.

“Well, isn’t it home?” Bee parried, turning around to face her with a slight smirk. “Did you think I was going to live in a blank slate the whole time?”

The corners of Caroline’s lips twitched upward. “Touché,” she remarked, then jerked her head down the hall. “Come, I put the kettle on. Let’s have some tea in the drawing room. We could play cards.”

Bee grinned. “You’ll lose,” she said cheekily. “You always lose when we play.”

Her aunt shrugged, leading her back out into the imposing main room. “To you, I don’t mind,” she said. “It reminds me of why we’re doing this in the first place.”

“Right,” she replied, settling down in one of the plush sofas. “Say, did they put him in that hidden room you were on about?”

Caroline rolled her eyes as she poured a cup of red bush tea and passed it to her niece. “It was quite the undertaking, but it’s all been sorted. Thank god for that elevator. Hopefully poor Robert wasn’t too dinged up.”

“No, that wouldn’t be great,” Bee hummed in agreement, pulling the deck of cards she kept in her pocket out onto the table. She took a sip of her tea, then began shuffling them. “The last thing we’d need is for him to wake up with a concussion. What do you want to play, Auntie?”

Caroline’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “You need to be getting out of that habit,” she reminded her sharply.

Bee didn’t look up from her shuffling. “What habit?” she asked distractedly.

“Calling me your aunt,” she sighed. “To the rest of the world now, I need to be ‘Mum’.”

Bee paused slightly, the two halves of the cards suspended above each other, not quite yet merged. ‘Mum’ and ‘Mother’ didn’t exactly have the most positive connotations in her personal dictionary, and they certainly weren’t words she’d ever want to apply to her aunt for beyond the obvious reasons. Caroline was more than a mother to her, she was a lifeline, a friend. She was the only one who ever recognized her potential, and she was also the only to help her achieve it. ‘Mother’ had never done that, because ‘Mother’ was selfish and cold; Harriet was finally in a place just as cold and clinical as she was. It’s what she deserved.

So no, calling Caroline ‘Mum’ was going to take some getting used to, but Bee supposed she’d been more of mother to her than Harriet had ever been at any rate. And for the cause, she’d do anything.

“Is that why you were being snippy with me in front of the movers?” Bee said instead of voicing all of her sentiments, finishing up the shuffle.

“It could have blown our cover,” she said by way of answer. “You know that.”

“Caro, those men don’t give one fuck about any of that,” she laughed and placed the shuffled deck down on the table. “They weren’t paying attention.”

Her aunt let out a long-suffering sigh, pouring her own cup of tea. “They were employed through the school, Bee. What if they were to report back to Headmaster Sweet that the mother-daughter duo moving in were really aunt and niece?”

“Okay, you know that’s a load of horseshit,” Bee retorted with a snort. “That bunch of Neanderthals are not going to go reporting to the headmaster about anything.”

“You’re a betting girl, are you really willing to gamble with this for even a second?” Caroline asked sternly, and the severity in her tone sobered Bee up a bit. “I know you understand the gravity of the situation, and if anyone were to find out what we’ve done to Harriet—”

“They won’t,” Bee interjected, mildly uncomfortable. “God, we’ve been through this a million times. From now on, you are ‘Harriet Denby, the Sleeper’s Keeper.’ To everyone. I’m not stupid, I’m not going to mess this up.”

Caroline’s expression softened, and she reached across the small tea table to cup her cheek. “I know you won’t,” she murmured, and Bee slightly pressed her face into her aunt’s touch. “You’re far too clever for that. Both of us are. And soon enough, everyone will see that.”

Bee smiled crookedly. “Can’t wait,” she whispered, lifting her cheek from her aunt’s palm with a readjusting breath. “Okay, now that that’s settled, how about Pontoon?”

Caroline smiled too. “Whatever you’d like,” she agreed. “What are we betting?”

She mulled it over for a minute, dealing the cards as she did. “If I win, we get takeaway,” she finally decided, flipping over her first card.

“I think that’s one debt I can pay,” Caroline mused, playing her first card, too.

“Excellent,” she replied with a wolffish smirk. They both knew that meant they were ordering out that night; Bee always won in Pontoon.

It would be a long road to accomplishing what they’d come to do, most likely fraught with pitfalls and obstacles. They’d be living a lie for quite some time. But sitting there amongst the boxes playing cards in their new living room, with Robert Frobisher-Smythe sleeping soundly somewhere above them, Bee knew it would all be worth it in the end. After all, she was betting on it.

Chapter Text

Bee liked to think she wasn’t afraid of much, because she really wasn’t. Sure, there was always a shot of nerves before any big decision, a distinctly human moment of hesitation. But she had one thing many other people simply didn’t have: a calm, methodical head on her shoulders. When she and Caroline admitted her mother to Lakehouse Clinic, she’d hardly blinked; Bee knew it was necessary for the greater good. Thinking through any game plan, step by step, was almost always the best way to soothe any frayed nerves.

She said almost, because the idea of the first day of school was forming a pit in her stomach, not dissimilar to how a clam makes a pearl around a grain of invasive sand. The truth was, few things were as destabilizing to Bee as the chaos that was social interaction among people her age. She’d been homeschooled most of her education, passed between Harriet and Caroline like a ping pong ball, with most of her peer socialization experienced in the form of various chess tournaments and other such competitions. The concept of making friends was foreign, and Bee was simply not looking forward to it— especially when there was so much more important work to be done in preparation for the ceremony.

However, Auntie Caroline was adamant that she keep a low profile and blend in to the very best of her ability. “Don’t draw too much attention to yourself,” she’d instructed firmly over breakfast that morning. “You just have to make some friends— acquaintances, really. That means no side-scheming, no outbursts, and definitely no high-stakes poker games in the student lounge.”

Bee had frowned at that, pushing her eggs around on her plate. “But how else am I supposed to connect with people?” she’d asked, only half-sarcastically.

“By being your sunny, friendly self.”

“That’s so fake; I’m not sunny nor friendly,” she’d retorted with a snort.

Caroline had smiled wryly at that. “It’s all fake, Bumble Bee.”

Her aunt was right, of course, but it still didn’t make it any more appealing. Somehow, Caroline got to do all the fun stuff, like assuming the mantle of the Keeper, while Bee was stuck playing pretend with a bunch of juveniles. Really, it was quite unfair. Nevertheless, she was trying to keep a positive outlook about the situation; anyway, it was only temporary, and maybe the other kids wouldn’t be too annoying. She might even manage to have a little fun in between all the preparing for Robert’s awakening.

Thankfully, the first class Bee had was History, which was her aunt’s jurisdiction, and she stuck to her like super glue as they walked toward the classroom. Caroline had gone in the day after they moved in to set it up, and thankfully hadn’t asked Bee to join her, giving her ample time to explore the Gatehouse. It was absolutely massive, by the way. There were so many nooks and crannies to hide away in, but the shining jewel of the whole place was obviously the tower room where they’d situated the tank.

Sure it wasn’t exactly glamorous, and the atmosphere was decidedly eerie, but it was no creepier than the special room in the house where Harriet used to keep Robert’s tank. When she was little, Bee used to steer clear of the place like it housed the bubonic plague, but as she got older, the apprehension faded into curiosity. He was just a man, after all. A genius, cursed man, but a man nonetheless.

Sometimes, Bee would sit by the tank, just reading or playing solitaire; sometimes she’d talk to him. Caroline always had advice at the ready, but there were simply some instances where Bee didn’t want a response to her musings. She couldn’t help but wonder if Robert was as good of a listener when he was awake as he was when he was asleep.

“Remember,” Caroline said sharply as they rounded the corner, “be friendly.”

Bee rolled her eyes, already with one foot over the classroom’s threshold. “Yes, Mum,” she drawled sarcastically. Then, she realized she was basically in front of a room full of people her age, most of them not paying her  or Caroline any mind. A few of them, though, were giving them curious looks, probably wondering who the hell either of them were.

Well, she thought, a slightly smug smile tugging at her mouth, they’ll stay wondering, won’t they?

“Bellona, you can take a seat,” said her aunt, and Bee did exactly that, taking the closest open chair she could find, next to a random boy towards the back of the classroom. He smiled awkwardly at her, and she smiled back, probably just as awkward. “Good morning class, you’ll have to excuse my lateness. The first day of school provides a learning curve for us all, doesn’t it?” Caroline chuckled to herself, and Bee found herself laughing a bit too. Her aunt was way too good at working a crowd. “My name is Ms. Denby, and I will be teaching you History and Business Ed this year.”

Two boys burst into the classroom, then, and they looked incredibly frazzled, though Bee couldn’t imagine how anything as mundane as being a few seconds late to class could be so hair-raising. They were cute though, in a sort of gangly way.

Her aunt raised an eyebrow at them. “Who might you two be?”

“Uh, Jerome Clarke?” said one of them, but it came out like a question.

“Alfie Lewis,” said the other one, then looked down at a girl in the front row. “Who’s she?” he mouthed, and the girl shrugged.

“Right, sit down then, please,” Caroline chuckled, gesturing to the last empty desk in the back corner.

Bee watched Alfie stoop to exchange a few whispers with a pretty blonde girl in the middle of the room, before they sat down, too. Unfortunately, all of it seemed terribly dull already, and Bee found herself missing her homeschool science lessons of pickling frogs. And that was saying something, because she hated those lessons.

“So,” Caroline continued once the boys were settled, “is anyone else new like me?”

The girl in front of her cheerfully shot her hand into the air, and Bee inwardly cursed her aunt as she reluctantly put her hand up, too. This felt like overkill.

Caroline beamed at the girl, then threw Bee a little wink like she knew damn well it was, in fact, overkill. “Welcome,” she greeted. “Would you both like to tell the class a little bit about yourselves?”

She kept a neutral expression, but inwardly she balked at the invitation. Was she supposed to talk about herself? Bee supposed it was the best way to spread the lie about parentage, but she couldn’t help but feel like it would simply be better to fly under the radar until the ceremony instead of announcing herself from the rooftops.

While she stewed in her annoyance, the girl in front of her stood up to a smattering of claps from the class. “Um, hi,” she said in a distinctly American accent, “I’m KT, which is short for Kara Tatiana— blame my parents for that one. Um, I’m from the States—”

"Oh, we never would have guessed,” came a quiet, droll remark from an auburn-haired girl a row over; Bee sucked on her teeth to hide the abrupt laugh that threatened to leap out of her throat at that.

The boy beside her sighed heavily, and out of the corner of her eye, Bee could see the tension between the two girls was making him supremely uncomfortable. That was at least more interesting than pickled frogs.

“Pennsylvania,” KT continued awkwardly “And… I’m here on a scholarship, and… I’m really excited about this place! Oh, and I move into Anubis House later today.”

A few students around the room frowned at that, perhaps Anubis House residents themselves, but Bee didn’t have time to chew on that, because suddenly it was her turn. She scowled with her eyes at Caroline, who merely golf-clapped for her as she stood up.

Well, thankfully Bee had an excellent poker face, and she painted on a charming smile. “I’m Bee,” she said, injecting as much cheerfulness into her voice as she could physically manage, “short for Bellona, but please don’t call me that. I’m Ms. Denby’s kid— don’t worry, though, I promise I’m cool— and I’m living at the Gatehouse.” She looked around at the sea of bored faces, and forced herself to giggle. “And I think that’s all I’m contractually obligated to say,” Bee finished with a joke, and sat down to another round of muted applause.

Easy-peasy.

“Hey,” the boy next to her whispered, and Bee half-turned to face him expectantly. He again smiled without his teeth. “I get the whole ‘being a teacher’s kid’ thing, so if it ever gets, like, weird or whatever, you can talk to me. Oh, um, I’m Eddie, by the way.”

Bee blinked at him, eyeing him up and down to get a full read on him. He was American, which surprised her, but he seemed genuine enough, if a little distracted with whatever his whole situation was. Though she had no intention of ever commiserating with a random kid about her made-up backstory, even Bee could appreciate the effort.  “Thanks,” she said, extending her hand.

Eddie took it in a firm handshake, but suddenly his smile faltered a bit. It was almost imperceptible, how slight the shift, but it put Bee on edge. She quickly extracted her hand from his grip and tuned back into the lesson, which was just Caroline prattling on about a family tree project she really hoped she didn’t actually have to do. It was probably nothing, but this Eddie character was a bit off-putting.

However, whatever had seemingly ruffled his feathers about her was now trumped by whatever was going on with KT. Out of the corner of her eye, Bee could see him craning his neck to try and get a peek inside the American girl’s bag. “Do you have a sick grandfather?” he asked her, and both girls nearly choked. “And if you do, did he leave you a key?”

Bee stilled at that last bit, her thoughts immediately flying to her mother’s Sun Key, the one that her aunt was currently in possession of. That was one of the few things she and Caroline continued to disagree on about the whole thing: that key belonged with Bee. Sure, she didn’t like her mother, and her mother didn’t much like her, but that key was passed down from parent to child for generations. If anyone was going to hold onto it while Harriet was… incapacitated, it should be her literal daughter. Apparently, Caroline thought it too important to leave in the hands of a teenager.

“Even one as special as you,” she’d cooed.

Nevertheless, none of these musings explained away the bizarre behaviour of the boy beside her, and the poor girl in front of them looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she laughed awkwardly before turning back around so she could resolutely ignore him. It seemed that perhaps this was not Eddie’s first instance of harassment.

Eddie huffed impatiently at her back, then cringed when he realized that Bee had witnessed the whole ordeal. “It’s, uh—” he began self-consciously, but Bee merely held up a hand.

“No explanation needed. I don’t want to know,” she said, remembering a second too late that she was supposed to be acting cheerful. “But I’m sure whatever you were going to say would be brilliant,” she added on, flashing him what she hoped was a dazzling smile.

He hesitantly smiled back, and a few rows over, there was a distinct, annoyed cough from the auburn-haired girl, which made Eddie pale considerably.

Ah, so there’s history there, Bee mused, turning back to the lesson. The period dragged on, and the deduction barely stayed in her mind, her daydreams drifting to the bright future ahead of her, where all her childhood curiosities would be indulged, secrets unveiled, and the Sleeping Man would finally be awake to pass along his long lost knowledge. And it would be all thanks to Bee and someone who actually cared about her.

She smiled softly to herself and clicked her pen. Things were looking up for the Denbys.

After school, Bee sat on the floor of the tank room, back resting on one of the decorative sarcophagi while she flipped over the cards in her Solitaire tableau. It was peaceful, the quiet, and Robert’s sleeping presence filled it with an admittedly twisted sense of company.

She flipped over another card, the Jack of Diamonds, and smiled, placing it onto one of her foundations.

“I bet you were quite good at Solitaire,” she said conversationally to the dead air. Robert, as always, slept on. “Then again, apparently you were good at everything.”

“I thought I’d find you up here again,” Caroline said, and Bee startled, scattering one of her piles. She hadn’t heard her come up.

“Jesus, Auntie, you scared the shit out of me,” Bee chuckled, abandoning her game in favor of scooping up the cards. It was ruined now, anyway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Caroline laughed, coming into view around the other side of the tank. “You know, it’s far more comfortable downstairs. There are these delightful inventions called chairs, you may have heard of them.”

Bee stretched and the bones in her spine popped from her uncomfortable position. “I know, but I sorta like the company up here.” She smiled wryly. “At least he doesn’t keep trying to make me work on a family tree.”

“Do it right, and it cements our story. Besides, a little traditional schooling will do you good.” Caroline shook her head fondly, before placing a reverent hand on the metal body of the tank. “It hardly seems real, does it?” she continued in a whisper, like she was afraid she might disturb him. “So close to fulfilling my destiny...” Her aunt’s eyes darted toward Bee, her gaze warming with pride and something else impossible to name. “Our destiny.”

“Yet so far,” agreed Bee with a small sigh, joining her by the tank. She mindlessly shuffled the cards in her hands. “When are you meeting with the others? The Seeker and Enabler?”

“Tomorrow night,” she replied. “It’s all arranged.”

“Are you really serious about not letting me come?” Bee whined. “Like you said, it’s my destiny, too.”

“We don’t know these people, Bumble Bee,” said her aunt, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “The meeting is in the woods at night. I know sometimes you seem to forget, but you’re 17 years old. It’s not safe. I’m sure you’ll get to know our little team once they start coming here.” She grinned down at her, then back up at the tank. “I won’t keep you in the dark the way Harriet did, I promise. You deserve this.”

Bee’s lips twitched affectionately, and she lifted an arm to squeeze her aunt back. “Oh, believe me,” she laughed, “I know… And fine about the meeting. Just let me know how it goes immediately after. I hope they’re not annoying.”

“Or worse— nosy,” she said in a more serious tone. “Remember, Bumble Bee, we’re in a delicate position here.”

She rolled her eyes and ducked out from under her aunt’s arm. “Obviously, Mum,” she replied. “I mean, really, who the hell is going to actually care enough to dig that deep? I think we’re being just a bit paranoid.”

“Better than being caught,” Caroline reminded her. “Come on, you’re not willing to flout the odds that are stacked against us, are you? People would not take what we’ve done lightly; they would never understand. You know that.”

Bee shuffled the cards more aggressively. “Of course I do,” she said, slightly agitated. “And I’m being careful.”

Caroline’s eyes flicked from the cards to Bee’s face, and her expression softened. “I know you are,” she said. “Have you made any friends yet?”

“Not really,” she replied, taking the change of subject for what it was. “I’m still trying to learn everyone’s names.”

“Ah, that comes with practice. You know, that KT seems sweet, and she’s also new. Perhaps you should talk to her?”

Bee shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe.”

“Well, I’ll be assigning a group project for Business Ed in a few days,” said Caroline. “That will be a good chance to meet people.”

“Why are you so obsessed with me making friends?” she asked.

Her aunt sighed, giving a little shake of her head. “Alright, two reasons,” she admitted after a moment; she held up one finger. “One: it’s always easier to win a game when people like you, Bee. Despite everything, that’s one thing you’ve never seemed to quite understand. You don’t need friends, you need supporters.”

Bee turned over a card in her hand, the 5 of Clubs; she frowned. “Okay… what’s the second thing?”

“Well, your mother isn’t right about just about anything,” Caroline began wryly, “but here she is: you don’t talk to enough kids your age.”

“Kids my age are stupid, we’ve been over this!”

Her aunt smirked. “Be that as it may, it might be good for you to socialize. Believe it or not, there’s some merit in psychology.”

“Some,” Bee drawled, then gave the tank one last look over. “Want some tea?”

“Certainly,” she replied, offering her hand; Bee took it. “And how about you can clobber me at chess, too?”

“Now we’re talking!”

Chapter Text

Inexplicably, Mr. Sweet made a big to-do of canceling her aunt’s family tree project, which admittedly suited Bee just fine. She knew her family history inside and out, all the way up to her great-great-grandfather. That was one thing her mother always loved to speak about, their familial connection to the Frobisher-Smythes and how their side of the family had been chosen to act as Keepers for generations. To write it all down and paste it on a poster board would simply have been overkill.

Even so, the frantic manner in which the headmaster terminated the assignment was suspicious, if nothing else. Caroline was perplexed by his vehemence, but she wasn’t about to argue over something that trivial.

“I suppose I’ll just have to pivot my lesson plans, that’s all,” she mused that evening after supper, while she threw on her coat. She was preparing to go meet with the Seeker and Enabler.

Bee leaned over the bannister, watching her with only a little jealousy simmering in her gut. “You actually have a lesson plan?” she snorted, pushing an errant piece of her red hair back out of her face. “What are you supposed to be, some sort of teacher?”

Caroline shot her a look, but her lips twitched with laughter. “That’s enough out of you,” she chided. “Go do some homework, will you?”

“Are you sure I can’t come with you? I promise I won’t cause trouble,” she said, trotting down the rest of the stairs. “Or get into it.”

Her aunt sighed, “We’ve already gone over this: until we know who these people are and what we’re dealing with, it’s best for you to lay low. You’re the ace up my sleeve, Bumble Bee.”

She frowned, jaw twitching ever so slightly. Or are you worried they won’t take you seriously if you bring a teenager with you? she thought petulantly. But no, Caroline had made it clear that wasn’t the case, hadn’t she? Bee took a breath and listened to reason. Her day would come; Auntie promised. “Right,” she said; after a second, she gestured to the door. “Well, you’d better go.”

Caroline eyed her searchingly. “You’ll be alright,” she said, on the cusp of a question, but not quite there.

Bee answered her anyway with an affirmative toss of her red hair. “I’ll keep busy,” she replied. “I always do.” It was true, she always did.

Her aunt looked at her for a moment longer, before nodding slowly. “Let me know who wins your card game,” she teased, breezing out the door. Caroline knew Bee would be playing Solitaire.

She sighed. When Bee signed onto this mission, she’d thought there would be a whole lot less waiting around.

For about thirty minutes after she left, Bee puttered about the Gatehouse, exploring a bit more, but beyond the tower room where Robert stood suspended in his tank, there wasn’t anything particularly interesting to uncover. Until, at least, Bee found a hidden door. At the base of the stairs behind the organ, leading up the tower, a rectangular cut-out in the wall opened up to reveal a small passageway leading into the shadows. The average person wouldn’t have noticed it, but Bee had a keener eye than most— that was one of the few things Harriet and Caroline always agreed on. A cool draft wafted out of the darkness, lifting her flyaway hairs so they wavered in the breeze.

It leads to the outside, she mused thoughtfully, unafraid. She ran a hand along the inside wall of the passage and came away with her palm covered in dust. It was as she suspected: no one had come through here in ages, the tunnel forgotten with the years.

Bee sat back on her heels, clapping her hands together to rid them of the grime, and mulled over her options. She could do as Auntie Caroline had asked and stay put. Or she could follow the tug of destiny through the passageway all the way to the meeting in the woods. Her aunt may be filling Harriet’s shoes as Keeper, but with her mother deposed, Bee was the rightful inheritor of the title… no matter how much Caroline imagined otherwise. The longer the minutes ticked by, the more indignant she got over the whole thing. It was hardly that she didn’t believe Caroline was right for the job or that she didn’t have their best interests at heart, but they were supposed to be a team. Still, there was truth to her aunt’s warnings about young girls roaming around at night by themselves with strange men.

But Bee was better and smarter than other girls her age. She was clever. That’s what she’d always been told, and if everyone thought so, then it had to be true. She smiled crookedly to herself, and rushed to the kitchen, rooting around for the torch in the drawer. Once procured, she hurried back to the passageway and clicked it on, the beam of light cutting through the inky blackness. If she hurried, Bee could still make it to the rendezvous, and as long as she wasn’t seen, it would be like she wasn’t even there!

She hesitated, thinking of Robert upstairs in his tank, sleeping away until the day brilliant, dedicated minds worked out the way to wake him up. Would he approve of his going after her aunt even though she’d been explicitly told not to? She thought a little longer, then smiled, crawling into the passage. Mr. Frobisher-Smythe broke every rule in the book; that’s what made him a genius. Of course he’d approve.

Bee was clever, cleverer than most… but she wasn’t exactly James Cook. Navigating the woods that surrounded the campus at night with only her torch and her infamous keen eye proved to be more difficult than she’d initially expected. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Even so, she was out now, and she’d come this far— really, now that she was here, she was struggling to think of what could be so dangerous about these particular woods. It was a gated campus, after all, and the only entrance was under the arch of her house. If there was anything to be feared out in the dark, it was probably something already inside.

Voices carried faintly through the trees, and Bee clocked them immediately, changing course. She ducked off the beaten path, through the underbrush, and eventually came upon a small clearing with what may have once been a sundial crumbling a little ways off to their right. Sure enough, there was Caroline, staring evenly at two male figures. Their backs were to Bee, so she wouldn’t be able to see their faces even if it wasn’t so dark out.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Caroline greeted them with what Bee knew to be a faux-cheeriness. She must have only just arrived. “Having a little picnic, are we?”

“Yes,” the taller of the two men grunted. “A private picnic.”

“Oh, I can see you’re going to be a bundle of laughs,” her aunt drawled, and Bee stifled a snicker from her hiding spot in the tree line.

The smaller man stepped forward, and she recognized his voice as that of Mr. Sweet. “Are you lost, Miss— Harriet?” he asked kindly. The headmaster pointed over his shoulder in Bee’s general direction. “The Gatehouse is that way.”

“Thank you, Eric.” Caroline chuckled with that same sticky sweetness she used when stupid people— especially stupid men— tried her patience but she was trying to be polite. “But I know exactly where I am. I’ve been keeping something safe for you gentlemen.”

Mr. Sweet let out a gasp. “You’re the Keeper!”

Bee rolled her eyes. Sherlock Holmes has nothing on this guy, she thought.

“Indeed,” she replied, and judging by the cadence of her voice, she was thinking the same thing. “And you, Enabler, I understand you have the artifact that will… well, enable this operation?”

The taller man cleared his throat. “Well,” he coughed, “not as of yet, but the parcel—”

“What?!” Both Caroline and Mr. Sweet looked as startled by this as Bee felt.

What does he mean ’not as of yet’? This is ridiculous, Bee thought, outraged. Honestly, they’d all only been preparing for this ceremony for their entire lives, and this stupid old fart didn’t have the bracelet?

“Are you not concerned that it hasn’t arrived?” Caroline snapped.

“I was told to expect a parcel containing instructions and an ancient bracelet! I was not told how it would arrive, only that it would do so on this day,” the man protested, advancing on her aunt accusatorially; even in the dark, Bee could make out Mr. Sweet’s eyes rolling at the drama of it all. “I thought you may have received it.”

Bee tamped down her own scoff, while Caroline balked in his face. “I am the Keeper of something far more valuable, as you’re both well aware.”

“Yes, and I insist you show him to us,” the tall man demanded, and the headmaster nodded in agreement.

“Not until you get the parcel,” challenged Caroline, the dim moonlight catching the gleam of indignation in her pale eyes.

“This is outrageous!” bellowed the Enabler.

“As is your incompetence!” snapped her aunt, and Bee had to wonder briefly if part of the reason she’d been barred from attending the meeting was due to Caroline not wanting her to witness such an embarrassment.

“Harriet, come now; Victor, do calm yourself,” Mr. Sweet interjected reasonably, probably drawing on the negotiation skills he’d honed over the years of looking after rowdy children. “Please, remember, we’re in this together.”

Caroline laughed scornfully at the man, Victor. “All he had to do was receive a bracelet and a set of instructions, and then bring them to the meeting!”

Victor’s next words dropped to a rasp, that Bee could barely make out as being: “Bring them I shall.”

“Make sure you do,” snarled Auntie Caroline, leaving no room for argument.

He scowled over his shoulder at her before storming off into the darkness like a petulant man-child. How dreadfully pathetic and disappointing the Enabler seemed; the Seeker, too. Bee had always imagined the individuals who held these roles to be clever, forthright, and competent. It was hardly a big ask… but then again, perhaps she should have lowered her expectations— her actual mother had been the Keeper, after all, and she was just as disappointing as the other two.

Mr. Sweet coughed awkwardly. “I, uh, apologize for him, Harriet,” he said. “He’s not exactly the friendly type.”

“Shocking,” she deadpanned. “Nor is he the efficient type, it seems.”

“A minor hiccup, I’m sure,” the headmaster assured her. “It was probably delayed in the mail. These things happen.”

“They cannot happen to us,” Caroline replied coolly. “And in the future, we all must take better care.”

Sufficiently cowed, the Seeker cleared his throat and gathered up his belongings to make a tactical retreat. “Quite, uh… Quite right, Harriet. We shall speak later, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure,” she cooed to his back as he, too, disappeared into the forest in what Bee assumed was the general direction of the school. Now, it was just Caroline standing alone in the clearing; she traced her hand over the sharp point of the sundial. “You can come out now,” she suddenly said.

Bee nearly choked on air. How did she—?

“Come on, Bee, I know you too well,” her aunt chuckled tiredly.

Ugh. The jig was up, no point in hiding now. “Apparently,” she quipped stepping out from behind the tree. “How did you know I was here? I only decided to come at all, like, twenty minutes ago.”

“You’re not the type of girl to sit twiddling her thumbs while Mummy goes to work,” Caroline sighed, stepping to her niece and putting her hands on either of her arms. She didn’t seem angry, but sometimes it was hard for even Bee to know for sure. “That is the one certain thing about you, I’m afraid.”

“Well… I would apologize, but I’m not really all that sorry,” she said after a moment, one corner of her mouth twitching up in a lopsided smile. “I mean, clearly I wasn’t in any danger. Did you see the state of those two? Beheaded chickens command more of a presence than them!”

Her aunt pursed her lips to hide a smirk of her own.“Oh, they absolutely reek of stupidity, that’s for sure,” she sighed, the smirk fading into a frown. “That means we must work extra hard to make sure the ceremony goes off without a hitch.”

“True… but, on the bright side, it also means they probably won’t ever catch on about us,” Bee pointed out.

“The chances of it are lowered significantly, I’ll give you that. But mind you, there’s still everybody else to contend with.” Caroline rubbed Bee’s upper-arms vigorously for a moment to ward off the first of the early autumn chill, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come, let’s get home.”

“You’re not upset with me?” Bee asked as they started back toward the main path. “For coming anyway?”

“What difference does it make?” Her casual grip on her shoulders tightened just a hair, which could have meant many things. But Caroline loved her more than anybody else in the world— probably was the only one who loved her; Bee knew this all too well. Nothing she could do could ever make her aunt truly angry. “Would it stop you in the future if I said I was?”

She cocked her head and thought for a moment. “Probably not.”

“‘Probably not,’” her aunt echoed with a chuckle. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

Just as suspected, the next day at school was dull. Of course, it may have been less dull if Bee had people she actually wanted to hang out with, but as it stood no one was really piquing her interest.

Before classes let out for lunch, Caroline had to once again reiterate to her niece that it wasn’t important whether or not Bee found other people interesting, but rather if they found her interesting. She wasn’t so sure, though— surely, if it was as easy as all that, she would have oodles of friends by now. Bee was, after all, very interesting; everyone said so.

Nevertheless, all of that meant she was bored. Classes were fine, relatively easy, though there were certainly some things her aunt had never covered in her education. Caroline’s lessons mostly included the anatomy of both human bodies and behaviours, while it seemed traditional schooling focused on the literary works Shakespeare or how many decimal places one could count to in pi. It was all quite disappointing, really.

In an effort to combat her boredom while still making an effort to be sociable, Bee took her lunch in the student lounge on a cheap, well-worn chair. At the very least, she could people watch a bit, even if she was sure nothing would come of it. To her right, a few lower years gossiped about boys and upcoming exams, and a small group of students in Bee’s year chatted about football team tryouts by the water cooler; a handful more were tossing a tennis ball back and forth on the stage.

She sighed and took a nibble of her sandwich. It was a little soggy, and she cringed, dropping it back into her bag with another heaved sigh. She would simply starve.

A blonde blur zoomed into the lounge in a fervor, and Bee flinched back in surprise as the pretty girl from a few of her classes, Amber, began tossing pillows around willy-nilly as she scoured the room for something. Alfie, who Bee had only deduced was Amber’s boyfriend about two class periods ago, jogged in after her. The expression on his face was a cross between sheepish and concerned, even as he dodged the onslaught of pillow-projectiles thrown his way by his crazed girlfriend.

“Alfie,” she panted, evidently in a panic, “are you sure you saw my phone in here, because I’m really not seeing it anywhere, and it’s kind of giving me a bit of”— Amber began to hyperventilate— “anxiety. And I think you’re maybe imagining things, because you do that quite a lot!” She waved her arms about frantically. “You know, with your aliens and stuff, so you know this is really, really not good for my skin.”

All throughout her tirade, Amber overturned sofa cushions, lifted blankets, crawled across the floor, among a number of other ridiculous antics… all for a cellphone? Bee only barely stifled a scoff. Really, how vapid could one be?

Inexplicably, Alfie opened his mouth: “Say you got an offer from that fashion school...”

Amber paused, head snapping toward him. “Not going to happen,” she replied, returning to her search.

“But if you did, you’d turn it down, right?” he pressed.

So perhaps sometimes people watching could yield interesting discoveries. Never let it be said that Bee couldn’t admit when she was wrong.

“I don’t know,” dismissed Amber, still breathing heavily, but no longer on the verge of a panic attack.

“B-But if there’s big Sibuna stuff going on, surely that’s more important!” Alfie’s sheepishness had morphed into delightfully obvious guilt, and while Bee had no idea what sort of gibberish excuse ‘Sibuna’ was, it seemed evident that a certain somebody was lying to a certain blonde through his teeth.

The certain blonde fixed him with a deadpan stare. “More important than accessorizing?” she asked, then swung around to look directly at Bee, snapping her fingers like she was calling a dog. “New girl, have you seen my phone?”

She blinked bemusedly. “No, I don’t believe I have,” she remarked mildly.

“Are you sure? It’s pink, glittery, has blue diamantes on it…?”

Once again Bee replied with a negative. “Nope, sorry,” she replied, biting back a laugh at the sour expression puckering up Amber’s face.

“Okay, well, then can you help me look?” she snarked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Bee considered her options. The first one was, of course, to tell her to shove it and find her own damn phone. It seemed evident that Amber was used to getting her way, but so was Bee. Why should she deign to get on her hands and knees to search around for the princess’ bedazzled BlackBerry? The nerve of some people!

But then she considered her second option, which was to just suck it up and be her ‘sunny, friendly self’ even if it meant looking like a Regina George-wannabe’s little underling. She knew which one would make Auntie Caroline happy, and equally knew which one would keep more eyes off her… an underling it must be.

“Of course,” she cooed pleasantly, standing up so she could give her chair a cursory look. She didn’t really expect to find it— because, honestly, who sat their arse down on a sparkly brick masquerading as a phone and didn’t know it?— but at least Bee appeared helpful. Appearance was everything; certainly she and blondie could agree on that.

Satisfied with her compliance, Amber began instructing other bystanders to scour the room for her missing device when a boy with dark brown hair from a few of her classes came sprinting into the room, waving a yellowed piece of paper out in front of him. He had rosy cheeks that invited pinching, and he was cute in a sort of kicked-dog type of way. Bee had seen him moping about the school, and from the whispers she’d caught here and there, he was missing his other half.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” he yelped, rushing up to Amber and Alfie.

“My phone?” Amber asked hopefully.

By now, Bee had already settled back down to pick over her repulsive lunch, having done her part to aid the blonde in her search. The three students in the center of the room were talking so loud, though; how could she not listen in just a little bit?

“No, no,” the boy dismissed, tapping something on the paper. “What do you two think that symbol means?”

“Wild guess? There’s a colony of giant, talking wildebeest on the move!” Alfie posited.

Judging by his companions’ expressions, his guess wasn’t even close. Bee sympathetically shook her head. Oh, how she pitied the stupid.

“What? No,” said the dark haired boy. “It means ‘dark son’.”

“I liked my answer better,” Alfie mused.

“‘Dark son?’” Amber repeated, and her tone made her sound almost intelligent. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” he replied pensively, still staring at whatever it was he had in his hands.

Bee watched Alfie’s smile turn sly. “But you wanna find out, right?”

“Does this mean you’re in, Fabian?” Amber cajoled, giving him a soft elbow to the ribs.

In? Bee mused, leaning forward ever slightly. In for what?

The boy, Fabian, began to say something to his friends when the man from the clearing, Victor, blustered into the lounge, followed closely by the headmaster. They both looked cross. “You!” he snapped, and Bee’s curiosity was further piqued when the three students scrambled to hide the old paper. “You will stay here, while Mr. Sweet gathers up the rest of the Anubis residents. No one is to leave until I have my parcel.” The headmaster strode off to find the others, while Victor approached Fabian, Amber, and Alfie with a dangerous glint in his eye. “And when I find out who has taken it, they will be removed from this school.”

Now, that had Bee’s full attention. So the Enabler and Seeker were on the hunt at last, were they? They were at the very least attempting to pull their own weight. Her aunt wouldn’t be pleased, exactly, but it was somewhat encouraging.

Victor ushered them out into the hall, and Bee stood up, approaching the man before he could follow them. She reached up and tapped him twice on the shoulder, painting on a pleasant smile as he whirled around with a disgruntled snort. “What?” he snapped. “Can you not see that I am very busy?”

“Of course,” replied Bee, delighted at how red in the face he already was. What a ridiculous old man! “Finding your parcel, yes? I wanted to introduce myself before you got too busy. You’re an associate of my mother’s, I take it?” She kept her smile still and extended a hand; Victor didn’t take it. “I’m Bellona. Bellona Denby.” His scowl deepened. “I just wanted to wish you good luck on your search. It’s always a pain to lose something.”

Victor eyed her disdainfully, landing on her still-outstretched hand. He sneered at the gesture before retreating back into the hall, where the Anubis House residents were apparently being rounded up for an interrogation. It was easy enough to put the pieces together: Victor was in charge of one of the boarding houses on campus, and so he believed one of his students had taken the package.

Typical man-child behaviour, she mused, turning back to her soggy sandwich. It’s everyone’s fault but his own.

Then again, perhaps he wasn’t entirely wrong to suspect foul play. The three Anubis students talking openly about their cryptic “dark son” were certainly quick enough to hide whatever it was they were discussing from Victor. If it turned out there was any merit in Victor and Mr. Sweet’s suspicions, maybe Bee could be a little more useful than just ‘being her sunny, friendly self’ with these kids. And as an added bonus, if she played her cards right, she could actually have a little fun for once in her life.

Bee smiled and dinged her sandwich in the rubbish bin. She would just have to wait and see.

When he wasn’t conducting bag searches or having covert meetings in the woods, Mr. Sweet was a twee little man who taught the sciences with a childish delight most people only reserved for their favourite Saturday television programme. He was prattling on about hibernation, and if it was a more purposefully relevant topic of discussion than strictly necessary given the curriculum, he wasn’t doing a half-bad job of keeping it discreet.

Bee only had half an ear on the lesson, choosing instead to stare out the window in the hopes that something outside might be more engaging. She already knew the science behind hibernation, both the traditional and the unorthodox, and once again she found herself dreadfully bored.

A few of the Anubis House kids off to her left — Amber, Alfie, Fabian, as well as a wisp of a girl and the surly brunette— were whispering again, but they were, for once, too quiet to be properly heard. She was almost proud of them for not shouting from the rooftops whatever it was they were trying to keep under the radar.

Finally, something happened to break up the monotony: Eddie and KT burst into the classroom together, breathless and sheepish looking. “Sorry,” said Eddie. “All sorted; just a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, good, good,” Mr. Sweet said, and behind the thick layer of nonchalance, there was a relieved twang to his tone. He checked his watch and gestured for them to sit. “Well, hurry up, and take your seats. As I was saying, the slowing down of the body’s systems to a point where it can function for weeks, months, even years…”

Bee became distracted again when the Americans sat down across from her, giggling to each other about whatever it was they’d “sorted” out. Apparently, whatever harassment charges KT had against Eddie had been dropped, and all was now right with the world. Remembering the icy glare from the other intimidating Anubis girl, Bee cut a sneaky look toward her; sure enough, she was looking at them. Her gaze wasn’t nearly as churlish, instead almost rueful.

Oh, dear, mused Bee, only slightly invested in whatever this relationship drama was. Only slightly. She’d never been one for reality television, but when it was happening right in front of her… Well, why shouldn’t she get some entertainment out of it?

Twenty minutes later, the headmaster released them back out into the steadily filling halls of the school, and almost immediately, Bee was swept up in the throngs of students. She still wasn’t used to being around so many people, and she had to keep from bristling when a girl shoved by her to get to her friends further down the corridor.

Bee was hardly agoraphobic, but this was a bit ridiculous.

She jumped when a hand grasped her by the upper arm and pulled her from the stream of students off to the side. It was Caroline, naturally, and she reached out with her other hand and gently smoothed down the hair on the top of Bee’s head. “We’re going to have a meeting,” she said, “with the Enabler and Seeker.”

She brightened. “We?”

Her aunt nodded, a knowing look twinkling in her eye. “Yes, we. I said you’d be kept in the loop, didn’t I?”

Truthfully, Bee had thought she’d need to push a little more for Caroline to keep her promise. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her to follow through! No, of course not… only that Caroline seemed to have it in her head that the only thing Bee was capable of doing was putting up a front. She seemed to forget just how capable she really was, even having seen it first hand, and had the insane notion that because she was only a teenager, she couldn’t pull her weight. That Bee wasn’t ready to face her destiny head-on.

Out of love and concern for her safety, naturally.

“Really? You really want me there?” Bee could barely hide her glee. Sure, she had to listen to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb natter on about their ineptitude, but she was going to be there, contributing.

Caroline rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. “Yes, yes, must you make me say it again?” she sighed, her hand still squeezing her upper arm.

“If I said yes, would you?”

“Enough of that,” her aunt drawled. “Come along, they’re probably already debriefing; apparently Victor found the parcel.”

“He was searching the Anubis House students’ bags, I think,” said Bee, falling in step with her down the hall. “One of them must have taken it. That Fabian fellow, perhaps? He was being pretty shifty today at lunch.”

Caroline offered her an approving side-glance. “Keen eye,” she commended her. “We will just have to see if your theory is sound.”

“Would you like to wager?” asked Bee hopefully as they reached the door to the headmaster’s office.

“Against you?” Caroline scoffed and knocked on the door. “I’d rather keep my money, thank you.”

It turned out to be a good thing Caroline hadn’t taken Bee’s offer of a bet, because Bee was sorely mistaken. Eddie had taken the package from Victor… except, apparently he hadn’t. The whole situation was very convoluted.

Supposedly, it went like this: during the lineup where Victor was grilling the Anubis residents about the whereabouts of the missing parcel, Eddie stepped forward claiming to have taken it. After an altercation in Victor’s office back at the house, however, there was no parcel to be returned. He’d been lying. Clearly, he’d had ulterior motives for lying, but Bee couldn’t begin to think of what they could be, or if they were even relevant.

Victor’s conclusion, though? Another of his students was responsible: Mara Jaffray… whoever the hell that was. Bee really needed to start bothering to learn her schoolmates’ names. Either way, he swore up and down he was going to get it back from her if it was the last thing he did.

Man-child, Bee thought again.

Speaking of child, Mr. Sweet and Victor both were very unhappy that Bee was at their meeting, though the former was far more polite about it.

“Only… she’s quite young, Harriet,” the headmaster had said patiently, eyeing Caroline uncertainly. “This really isn’t the business a young lady need involve herself in.”

“The betterment of humanity isn’t something I should involve myself in?” Bee had retorted incredulously, while Victor sneered viciously at the pair of women. “Mr. Sweet, if we lived in a perfect world, I would be putting this on my university resume as community service.”

“Miscreant,” Victor had grumbled.

“She’s my daughter,” Caroline had dismissed the men’s concerns before either of them could protest again. “She will be an invaluable tool for our cause, I can assure you. And need I remind you that this is a blood-role; this is as much her duty as it is mine. Or yours.” Her icy stare had shut down any further complaints, and just like that Bee was officially on side.

If only everyone was as competent as me, she mused with a sigh.

“Don’t forget,” Caroline reminded her after they’d left, walking toward the school’s main exit. School was finally over, and Bee couldn’t wait to curl up with a cup of tea and a good game to take her mind off the mindless babble of the day’s lessons. “We have to visit Lakehouse tonight.”

Damn, she had forgotten. They’d only been to visit Harriet twice since she’d been admitted to the clinic, and both times had been supremely uncomfortable. Bee really didn’t want to go. “Oh, must we?” she complained, pushing down the ugly squirming feeling in her gut.

Her aunt sighed, putting a gentle hand on her arm. “Yes, unfortunately. If only to make sure she’s staying medicated.”

“So I don’t have to go?” she asked hopefully.

“No, it’s good for you to see her like this,” Caroline soothed, threading a tender caress through her niece’s ginger hair. “A good reminder for the both of us.”

A reminder of what? How shitty of a person Harriet really was? If that was the lesson Caroline was trying to impart on Bee, she was about seventeen years too late. She already knew that. If her aunt really wanted to give her a reminder, they should have just kept her lucid.

Still, there was no arguing with Caroline about it; Bee had already tried the other two times, without success.

“Fine,” she sighed.

“Good girl,” cooed Caroline, then she frowned, patting the empty air at her side. “Damn, I forgot my bag in my classroom. The Key is in it.”

“I’ll get it,” Bee volunteered immediately, already darting off back the way they came. Any talk about her mother was suffocating, and she was eager to get a breather before having to actually face the woman later that night.

She swung into her aunt’s classroom and drew up short at the sight of two students with their backs to her, looking for all the world like they were peering into Caroline’s bag. A spike of panic went up her spine at the thought they may have stumbled upon the Sun Key, but she shook it off. Even if they did, why would they care? “Er, hi?” Bee said, forcing a casual air about her. “I’m just here to grab that.”

The kids stiffened, but didn’t turn around. Rude, she thought, then cleared her throat. “Can I help you?” she tried again, a little more forcefully, and after a moment, they turned to face her. It was Eddie and KT, and while the latter looked as stiff as a board, the former merely smiled at her. “Why are you going through my mum’s bag?”

“Bee, can I ask you something?” he said casually, and Bee searched his face for any hint of… well, something suspicious. For her part, KT looked mortified.

“You’re asking me something right now,” she replied slowly. Was he going to ask her about the Key? Surely not.

He let out an easy laugh. “Fair point. I just wanted to ask if you were a narc?”

“Eddie!” KT hissed, while Bee blinked.

“Am I a… narc?” she repeated, off-balance. What on earth was he—?

The American boy suddenly pulled out a paper from behind his back and held it up sheepishly. “I forgot to turn my assignment in at the end of class, and was trying to slip it into Ms. Denby’s bag before she noticed it wasn’t on the pile.” Eddie ducked his head bashfully, looking up at her through his lashes as though he was hoping she’d swoon like a medieval maiden. “You won’t tell, right? I really can’t afford to start off on the teacher’s shit-list, y’know?”

Bee cleared her throat again, somehow even more off-kilter than before, and she found herself shaking her head. “Um, no, of course not,” she promised, taking a cautious step past the American duo to grab her aunt’s bag. A discreet look inside the side pocket revealed the Sun Key, safe and sound. Well, no harm, no foul.

She let out a relieved breath, and made a conscious effort to turn on a friendly smile for them, surprised to find out it wasn’t nearly as fake as it had been just a day or so before. “I’m not a monster, nor a narc,” she chuckled, and slung the bag over her shoulder. “You know, she really wouldn’t care if you turned it in a few hours late or not.”

“Ah, well, you can never be too careful. Some teachers are chill, and some… are definitely not,” Eddie pointed out with a shrug. His grin never faltered, and his brown eyes crinkled up at the corners so much, she could hardly see his irises.

“Well, you would know,” agreed Bee congenially, remembering that Eddie had family on the faculty, too.

KT hadn’t said much of anything, but at Eddie’s pointed look, she burst into giggles. “Yeah, good one!” she laughed, even though nobody told a joke. “Um, Bee?” She cast a glance at Eddie, then at the bag, then back at Bee. “Do you, um, know why your mom canceled the family tree project? Joy was, um, asking.”

She really didn’t know— though knowing Mr. Sweet was the Seeker, she had her suspicions— so she just shrugged apologetically. “No, sorry. I guess Mr. Sweet was just really insistent about it. I can’t say I’m complaining, though. I had no interest in that nonsense.”

“I know right?” Eddie snorted, but there was a glimmer of tension behind the laugh that was beginning to bleed through. It reminded Bee to keep her guard up. “Hey, would you, uh, want to hang out with us tonight?” he asked abruptly, eyeing her up and down.

Both Bee and KT must have been wearing matching expressions of dumbfoundedness, because Eddie just cocked his head. “Just, I know you and KT are both new, and I’m currently not in a lot of people’s good graces, so I figured…” He shrugged again.

Bee considered the offer. On the one hand, he seemed genuine enough, but there was something off about Eddie that put Bee on edge, something jagged and dangerous lurking just below the surface. Perhaps he didn’t even realize it himself. KT, too, had an oddness to her, but they both seemed nice, albeit tense… and American. Still, maybe they genuinely just wanted to hang out with her. For all her cleverness, Bee really didn’t know how the whole ‘friends’ thing worked.

Not that it mattered that night, anyway. Bee huffed a sigh. “Sorry, I can’t,” she said, readjusting the bag, not missing the way KT’s eyes tracked the movement. “I’m going out tonight with my mum.”

Eddie’s frown hid something… a glimmer of interest, maybe? “Oh, bummer,” he said. “Out? So you and Ms. Denby won’t be at home tonight?”

“Weird way to phrase it, but yeah,” replied Bee, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Maybe tomorrow?”

While Eddie’s grin turned almost wolfish, KT began to look pale. “Definitely,” he promised.

With an awkward nod, Bee wove around them and out the door, purse clutched under her arm with her palm flat over the pocket with the Sun Key. That was a close one, but the Key was safe, as was her and Caroline’s identity. She may have just made new friends, as well. Or new enemies? Maybe a tentative pair of acquaintances? The conversation hadn’t exactly been clear. She simply didn’t know what to make of the Americans, and she suspected it would take her some time to puzzle them out.

Thankfully, Bee was excellent at puzzles. She would figure out this socializing business in no time, she was sure! Now, though, she had bigger fish to fry. Specifically, mother-shaped fish.

Chapter Text

Lakehouse Clinic was a dreadful place: sterile, stuffy, and— though they tried to hide it with a few potted plants and framed prints of lush landscapes— shockingly barren. Bee suspected the Arctic tundra might be more visually stimulation than the clinic. Of course, she’d never been, so she couldn’t say for sure.

“We’re here to see Harriet Denby,” said Caroline in her most polite voice, patiently tapping her own identification on the reception desk. Bee’s mother was checked in under her real name, which Bee herself thought was incredibly reckless, but Caroline insisted was the only way to not run into any unnecessary trouble with law enforcement.

“It’s one thing to forge documents for a handful of bumbling fools,” she had said over tea. “It’s another thing to attempt pulling one over on the NHS. Eric can’t afford the eyes of the law on the school, but the government has no such issue with us.”

“Long live the Queen,” Bee had muttered back.

Still, Caroline had a point, and what were the odds anyone from the school who could confirm or deny Harriet’s identity was going to come snooping around a mental hospital, even one as close by as Lakehouse? Bee was pretty good with odds, and they were admittedly quite low. A non-zero chance was still a non-zero chance, though, and it put her on edge regardless of probability.

“She’s in Room 77,” droned the man behind the desk, looking more like he belonged in one of the rooms than working at the desk. He didn’t even bother looking at Caroline’s ID.

“Thank you,” said Caroline, still as pleasant as ever, then placed a gentle but firm hand between Bee’s shoulder blades. “Come on, Bumble Bee, let’s go.”

The term dragging one’s feet was barely an exaggeration as her aunt guided her down the long white corridor toward Harriet’s room. Bee couldn’t decide if she was hoping her mother would be more lucid this time or not. The first time, she’d been so strung out on sedatives and whatever antipsychotics Caroline had managed to convince the doctors she needed, that Harriet had pretty much been comatose.

The second time, she’d been awake and talking nonsense, walking around the room aimlessly and knocking into things like a milk-drunk baby. Caroline kept guiding her back to the bed, while Harriet just kept sobbing and asking for her sister to please play hopscotch with her.

Bee had sat and stared at her mother, shuffling cards wordlessly. Harriet was normally so sharp, so deliberately calculating in everything she did. To see her reduced to a sniveling, helpless little girl was both disturbing and vindicating.

It didn’t bother her at all that her mother hadn’t acknowledged her once the entire visit, not even to rebuke her or wail into the bedsheets. It didn’t bother her a bit that even now, Harriet still didn’t seem to really see her. Of course not.

Caroline knocked on the door softly, as if Harriet was just going to get up and answer it. “Harriet?” she called. “We’re coming in.”

There was a high-pitched squeak from the other side of the door and the loud pitter-patter of feet scurrying to the far side of the room. She must have been right be the door when Caroline knocked.

As they filed in, Bee saw her mother pressed up between the wall and the dresser, a plastic flower pot with a rubber orchid brandished in front of her like a sword. “St-Stay back!” she warbled, shaking it. The flowers bounced pitifully. “I’m not afraid to use this!”

Caroline looked down at Bee and rolled her eyes, crossing the room to her sister in three long strides and snatching the pot out of her hands. “You really shouldn’t threaten your family, Harriet,” she said, using her free hand to tug her to the bed. “It makes us not want to come spend time with you anymore.”

“Well, in that case, can we go now?” Bee asked, closing the door behind her if only to keep the prying eyes of the nurses off the altercation.

Caroline gave her a look, and she threw her hands up defensively. “What? I’m serious! This place is miserable, and it’s not like she’s going anywhere. I don’t see why we have to spend so much time here.”

“It’s good for you,” Caroline repeated simply, beckoning her closer to where Harriet was still trembling on the edge of the bed. “Harriet, darling, look who’s come to visit you. Isn’t this nice?”

Bee tried very hard not to recoil when her mother’s wild eyes landed on her… but no. No, she wasn’t looking at her; just past her, rather, eyes skimming over the top of her head. Always, Harriet with her chin held higher than the rest of them. Then, she began to mouth something silently.

Bee’s fingers curled into fists, so tight they created heat. She shifted uncomfortably under her stupid, glassy gaze. “What is it?” Bee snapped, nails digging into the palms of her hands. Even now Harriet still couldn’t properly acknowledge her.

Caroline pursed her lips disapprovingly as Harriet mouthed a few more words, while she simultaneously stared into the abyss and straight into Bee’s heart.

It felt like taunting. “Speak up!” she ordered, crossing her arms to hide how her hands were suddenly shaking. Even drugged up, her mother was disarming. It wasn’t fair. This was how it was supposed to be: Bee and Caroline taking destiny by the throat, and cutting down the gnarled tree that blocked their sunlight. It was sometimes harder to remember that while staring the felled tree straight in the face.

“You are my sunshine,” Harriet whispered, still staring and trembling. “My only sunshine, you make me happy…”

“Stop it,” Bee said sharply, taking a harried step back. The nerve of this woman. She refused to be a mother for nearly seventeen years and only now, when she was as weak and helpless as she’d always tried to make Bee feel, she wanted to play house.

“Bee,” Caroline warned, tightening her hand on Harriet’s wrist when her sister suddenly tried to shake off her grip. “She’s practically on another planet, pay her no mind.”

“Then why am I even here?” she snapped, drawing back. “You don’t need to keep shoving her in my face! I hate her. I’ve always hated her!”

“You’ll never know, dear,” her mother kept on shakily, “how much I love you…”

Anger and something worse she couldn’t place stabbed Bee in the chest, and she started for the door. “I’m leaving.”

“Harriet, that’s enough,” snapped Caroline, giving her a rough shake.

Harriet’s eyes focused in on her sister, almost lucid. “Please don’t take my sunshine away…” she said, drifting into unrelenting silence.

Bee’s hand was already on the knob. “I‘ll be in the car,” she said firmly, not daring to turn back around. She finally must have left no room for argument, because her aunt didn’t protest when she shoved into the hallway, nearly taking out a nurse with the door. “Sorry,” she mumbled, making a beeline for the exit.

She hated her. She hated her. Harriet had all but abandoned her, so why did Bee feel so… sick?

Hot, angry tears burned the corners of her eyes as she stomped to Caroline’s car, and she attempted to throw open the passenger door. It was locked.

She cursed loudly and kicked the tire as hard as she could, but refrained from anything more overtly furious with only the latent reminder that she was standing in a mental hospital’s car park. Having a full-blown meltdown would probably be a bad look.

After about ten more minutes, Bee heard the  soft sound of Caroline’s heels on the asphalt and the click of the door unlocking. Wordlessly, she sat down, and Caroline slipped in beside her on the driver’s side.

“I don’t want to visit again,” Bee said firmly after several seconds of quiet passed between them.

Caroline sighed and turned the key in the ignition. “I only thought you’d be pleased to see her like this,” she said as the engine rumbled to life. “She was such a tyrant, and I hoped this would help you recognize your own power. Over her, at least.”

“Well, it didn’t. It doesn’t,” Bee insisted petulantly. It should make her feel powerful, maybe, but all the visit did was make her feel helpless and small. Her mother once again came out the victor.

And Bee wasn’t keen to put herself back in a position where that could happen ever again.

She clenched her jaw and trained her eyes on her hands. “I’m committed to this, Auntie,” she muttered firmly. “You know I am. You don’t need to keep testing me.”

Caroline hummed neutrally, but said nothing more; they drove the whole way back to campus in silence.

When they got back to school, Caroline slowed the car down in front of the Gatehouse front door. “Here, you hop out,” she said. “I have a meeting with Victor and Eric at Anubis House.”

Bee balked at her, betrayed. Just because she didn’t want to hang around her addled mother while she spoke nursery rhymes in her general direction, didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of being useful. “A meeting? Without me? But I thought I was supposed to be in the loop from now on. That’s what you said!”

Her aunt sighed, reaching over and placing a gentle but firm hand on Bee’s knee. “And that is, of course, still the case,” she replied, “but is it not suspicious if you attend a late night gathering with a bunch of adults? Students will see you.”

“So what? It’s none of their business anyway!” she snapped petulantly. “This isn’t fair!”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “I’m playing exactly by the rules we both agreed to: keeping a low profile. I will give you the meeting minutes as soon as I get home, I can assure you. In the meantime, you should get some rest.” Her blue eyes swept her niece up and down. “You’ve had a very trying evening.”

That was a dig of Bee ever heard one, and she scowled deeply. Still, she knew when to pick her battles, and it wasn’t like Caroline was entirely wrong either— showing up at Anubis House to hang out in Victor’s office with her “mother” and the headmaster would be incredibly odd. Still, Bee couldn’t shake the feeling this was a punishment for failing a test she hadn’t agreed to take.

“Whatever,” she grumbled, gruffly shoving her way out of the car. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

Before Caroline could say another word, she slammed the door shut and stomped to the keypad. After a moment, the car drove off and Bee was left alone once more. She pressed her forehead to the cool stones of the Gatehouse and took a deep, centering breath. Everything was fine. This sort of life was just taking some getting used to. It was overstimulating being around so many people all the time now, not to mention incredibly stressful having to hide her and Caroline’s identities.

Surely Bee’s almost immediate retreat at the sight of Harriet had far more to do with stress than it did with anything else. Of course it did. Because Bee had nothing to be sorry for. It was an eye for an eye, she and her mother, and now they were even. Sort of.

She plugged in the code and walked in, tossing her coat on the rack and making her way upstair two at a time. After her ordeal, she deserved a cup of tea.

The abrupt sound of the organ in the sitting room, as well as the quick shuffle of feet, drew Bee up short on the stairs. Fear clenched her heart in an icy fist. Intruders! Intruders in her home.

What if they had knives, and they were lying in wait to stab her to death? Or worse, what if they knew— about everything?!

Forcing herself to breathe evenly, she retreated back down the stairs, and grabbed the closest thing to a weapon she could get her hands on: a long black cat statue, trimmed in gold. Its ears with razor sharp, and its base heavy and blunt like a club. Emboldened by the weight of it in her hands, she once again made for the stairs.

If there were intruders in the Gatehouse, Bee was surely far smarter than them. She hoped they were afraid.

“I know you’re there!” she called into the house, statue poised to attack at a moment’s notice. Even if there weren’t any threats inside, she was being very clever to announce her very confident presence anyway. “I’m armed, and I will not hesitate to use my weapon!”

They didn’t need to know her weapon was a cat statue. They would either find that out, or they wouldn’t. Simple as that.

“I repeat, I am armed!” she called, making her way onto the landing beside the elevator wheel.

There it was again! The shuffle of feet, the creak and slam of a door.

Bee’s heart was in her throat, but she forced herself to keep advancing. She definitely did not think about how there was every chance her aunt might come home to find her dead, with the intruders long gone.

She forced herself to see sense, even as she moved into the seemingly empty parlor room. Perhaps it was just students playing a prank, or completing a hazing ritual of breaking into a teacher’s house. Either way, they needed to be dealt with. If they found the tower room with the tank…

Her blood went cold at the sight of the door by the organ, slightly ajar. No…

“I heard you!” she shouted, voice gone slightly shrill. “I’m not afraid! The police are on their way as we speak!”

The police were obviously not on their way, but nobody else needed to know that either.

She darted to the door to the tank room, grip so tight on the cat statue she feared her fingers would crack off. If Bee did find someone up there, then she would indeed have to kill them. Even if they were students! Nobody could know who she and Caroline had up there. Nobody could know who she and Caroline were.

Could I really kill someone? she pondered, palms sweaty. Identity fraud was one thing; murder was another thing all together.

Robert’s reawakening was supposed to bring humanity together through shared knowledge, not drive them all apart via violence. That was what she’d always been told, what she'd always maintained. Was she about to kill in the name of the cause? Did she want to? Did she even have the stomach for it?

Don’t get ahead of yourself, she thought bitterly, ascending the stone stairs slowly. Bee thought she could hear whispers, but it was hard to tell. They might kill you first…

There was a distinct hiss from Robert’s tank, and what sounded like a shriek of surprise, and Bee tensed, stalling on the last few stairs.

It was time to find out just how desperate she really was.

She rushed into the room with the statue lifted, pointy ears ready to pierce flesh, but the room was empty, save for the undisturbed Sleeper in the center.

In surprise, Bee lowered her makeshift weapon, scanning the room for any sign of a break-in. Nothing. Had her mind really only been playing tricks on her? That only happened to mad women!

You’ve spent too much time at the mental facility, she mused, embarrassed despite no one being around to see her. Bee laughed breathlessly, running a hand through her hair with a long sigh. With a wry smile, she nodded to Robert, suspended in his tank. “You didn’t happen to see anyone, did you?” she drawled, still chuckling at her own expense. “No, of course, you didn’t.”

With that, she turned on her heel and started back down the stairs to her room, the uneasy feeling passing by like a thunderstorm. Even so, she locked her bedroom door behind her, and resolved to keep her little bought of paranoia to herself. She didn’t want to give Caroline any more reason to exclude her from her own destiny, after all.

Bee was asleep before her aunt got home, and her dreams were full of warm sunshine and the wet squelch of a skull being caved in by a cat statue.

Chapter Text

The next day went by at a snail’s pace, but Caroline— and therefore Bee— was called to an impromptu meeting in the evening at the school.

Caroline was back to her usual self, but Bee was admittedly still a bit put out by the previous night’s ordeal. To her aunt’s credit, though, she didn’t bring any of it up. In fact, it was like they’d never visited Lakehouse at all, which she was grateful for. If it saved Bee the trouble of rehashing the details behind her display of weakness, she simply wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Victor met them outside Mr. Sweet’s door, nose wrinkled in distaste at the sight of them. Without so much as a greeting, he sniffed and pushed his way into the headmaster’s office.

“Oh, Harriet!” Mr. Sweet chirped cheerfully, but his expression faltered at the sight of Bee, and fell even further when he took in Victor. “And Victor… Is everything alright? Can it wait? Only it’s takeaway night with my son.”

Bee cocked an eyebrow, while Caroline scoffed. “I think, Eric, the ceremony is slightly more important than chicken chow mein!” She turned on Victor, jabbing a sharp finger into his chest. “And you’d better have good news about that parcel.”

He gritted his teeth, which Bee took to mean he had no news at all. Unsurprising, yet very annoying. “I have been…” he trailed off, not meeting anyone’s eye, “investigating… Trudy must be lying about the mail. She must have the package, only how to get her to admit it?”

Mr. Sweet’s expression brightened exponentially. “Well, there is one way! It’s no secret Trudy has something of a soft spot for you!”

That startled a sharp laugh out of Bee, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. The headmaster beamed at her,  looking proud to have been somewhat entertaining to a young person.

Gosh, what a loser.

Caroline chuckled too. “And given your natural charms,” she snorted, “I’m sure you can think of some way to get to the truth.”

“And who knows,” Bee added cheekily, clasping her hands in front of her. “Perhaps this will be the start of a beautiful relationship.”

“Does this child have to be here?” Victor griped, but when their expectant eyes remained fixed on his face, he harrumphed. “If I must,” he ground out. “Oh, do not find it so amusing!”

Caroline subtly gave Bee’s arm a conspiratorial pinch, biting back a smile. “Of course not, Victor. We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Well, if that’s all settled, I really do need to be getting ready for dinner,” Eric said once they’d gotten their giggles out. “I will see you all tomorrow. And I hope you’ve been doing your homework, Bellona!” he added in a manner he probably thought was a blend of friendly and authoritarian, but really just made him sound like Steve from Blue’s Clues. Patronizing. Bee hated being patronized.

“It’s Bee, if you don’t mind,” she replied, then winced when the pinch on her arm tightened. She smiled wide and fluttered her lashes. “And yes, of course! Science is so interesting! I love it!”

“Alright, well, you still have all that science homework to finish, if I recall,” her aunt said in the same fake cheery voice. “So let’s get you home. Gentlemen,” Caroline bid them good night, and ushered Bee out the door. “What did I say about being nice?” she asked as they walked down the deserted halls.

“Oh, so you get to be snarky, but I need to be Barbie? How is that fair?” she whined.

“When you earn snarky, you can be snarky,” Caroline replied tersely.

“What does that even mean?”

She sighed as they rounded the corner. “Never mind that. Let us… go home, have a cup of tea and play a game. We’re both a little tightly wound today.”

Understatement of the century, but Bee wasn’t in the mood to argue. Frankly, a game was what she needed. Something she would without a doubt beat Caroline in. “Chess?” she offered. “You can have white.”

“Well, lucky me,” came the dry reply.

“Lucky you,” Bee agreed.

Bee kept her head down in class the next morning, trying very hard to block out the chaos around her. Students were throwing balled up papers at each other, shouting across the room to their friends on the other side, sitting haphazardly on desks, as well as partaking in various other disorderly conducts.

She focused all of her attention on the corner of her desk, willing herself into self-imposed tunnel vision. Simply existing amid so many rambunctious people was still shockingly overwhelming, and Bee was beginning to believe she’d never fully adjust to it.

Hurry up, Auntie, she thought miserably, a paper airplane only just missing the tip of her nose as it sailed past. This was supposed to be Caroline’s class, but she was running late. Was she at a meeting without her? The thought made her skin prickle uncomfortably, and she shifted slightly in her chair.

No, wait… the prospect of Caroline excluding her again wasn’t what was causing the discomfort— though, it certainly didn’t help— it was the eyes she could feel boring into the back of her head.

Covertly, Bee glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Eddie and KT look away quickly, pretending to return to some sort of casual conversation about the display cases in the back of the room. Out of everyone at the school she’d met so far, those two were by far and away the most odd. Bee prided herself on reading a situation for what it was, but fathoming them out was more akin to translating the Rosetta Stone.

KT accidentally caught her eye again, and she immediately dropped her gaze. Bee frowned. What even was their problem with her? Did they even have a problem with her? Just yesterday, they’d wanted to hang out with her. Bee had thought they may have wanted to be friends.

Slightly frustrated, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at them, and turned back to face the front of the room just as Caroline came breezing in. She took in the delinquency of her students with a bemused smirk, and dropped her bag onto her desk. “Settle down everyone,” she called. Respected as she was, the children listened, settling down into their chairs as though they hadn’t just been running amok like barnyard animals.

Bee would roll her eyes if the relative calm that followed was not so appreciated.

“I’m sure you’ll all be glad to know, that along with our regularly scheduled History, I am also incorporating some modern day know-how into our curriculum,” her aunt continued, crossing to the white board and uncapping a dry-erase marker. “Business Studies,” she explained before jotting it down in her neat, tight handwriting.

“Business Studies?” Jerome Clarke squawked from the back of the room beside Alfie. “You mean you’re actually going to be teaching us how to make money?”

Caroline raised an amused eyebrow at him. “I suppose, indirectly, yes,” she confirmed, much to Jerome’s delight. “Along with actual marketing tactics and business models, I will also be covering the history and evolution of socioeconomics throughout the 19th and 20th centuries into today. Oh, don’t look so glum, everyone,” she chastised at the sound of several groans. “It’s not all going to be boring. In fact…” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a thick stack of papers. “For our first business project, I want you all to think about snack foods.”

“Oh, I am so getting the highest marks in the class!” Alfie cheered.

“You can work alone or in pairs,” Caroline explained and began passing out the guidelines. “Your task is to design and market a brand new snack experience. You’ll find the expectations outlined in these handouts and on the link at the top of the whiteboard. The ideas will be graded, but you’ll also be judged by a global food manufacturer, none other than our very own Amber’s father, Mr. Millington.”

Amber blinked in surprise from her seat next to Willow. “Daddy’s coming here?” she gasped.

“He didn’t tell you?” Willow asked.

Amber turned in her chair. “Willow, does this look like a face that’s been told anything?” She made an exaggerated surprised face, and Willow shook her head no. “Besides how to moisturize.”

Maybe if Bee concentrated enough, that vapid blonde would go up in a puff of smoke, and she wouldn’t have to listen to her anymore. Amber’s stupidity was grating on Bee’s already frayed nerves.

“Either way,” Caroline continued once the interruption had ceased, “he will be here at the end of the week, and he’s donating a brand new laptop to whoever wins.”

A few rows over, KT and Eddie began whispering loudly to each other, and Caroline cleared her throat. “And you, Eddie? I trust you’ll be taking this project seriously?”

He made a face at that, a cross between snide and overly sincere. “Don’t worry,” he said in a knowing tone that inexplicably set Bee’s teeth on edge, “I’ll be taking your classes very seriously from now on.”

Weirdo, thought Bee, turning around to face front again and flipping open her notebook where a paltry list of ideas was already scribbled down:

• Candied fish eggs (Cavitiar? Play on words? Consult rhyming dictionary)
• Something pickled (Easy to do, may take time. Would need to get started soon)
• Solid tea (Like a freezie, but tea. May already exist. Consult the internet)

She’d known about the project for a few days now, having been involved in several discussions about her aunt’s lesson plans over the dinner table since they’d arrived on campus. Of course, she hadn’t really given it much thought, too consumed with… other things that were a bit more important than a silly project. At the very least, she knew she wouldn’t get graded too harshly if her presentation wasn’t up to snuff.

The room around her devolved into loud chatter as students began pairing off and discussing strategy, and Bee once again found herself making a conscious effort to tune the noise out. It’s like I’m in a monkey cage, she mused bitterly.

A shadow fell over her notebook, and, startled, she looked up sharply into Eddie’s face as it peered down at her with curious eyes.

“Can I help you?” she asked. What the hell did he want?

“Yeah, actually,” he replied, a charming smile suddenly splitting his face. “You could be my partner for this project!”

She blinked at him, dumbfounded, then cast a wary glance over at KT who was doing a very bad job of not staring at them. Across the room, Patricia was fighting a similar battle. Bee frowned before turning back to him. “Listen, it’s nothing personal, but I think your girlfriends might have something to say on the matter.”

Eddie followed her gaze and chuckled nervously. “Oh,” he laughed, “no. No, KT’s not my girlfriend; she actually suggested I work with you. And… well, neither is Patricia, but—”

“But I appreciate the offer, really,” said Bee, unable to suss out his motives and very much not liking that she couldn’t. “I work best alone, though.”

Eddie flashed an anxious glance somewhere over the top of her head, then trained his brown eyes on her once more. “Look,” he said quickly, dropping down so he was crouched in front of her desk, “from one kid with a staff member for a parent to another, I really need to not fail this assignment. And unlike you, I’m bad at working alone.”

Bee raised an eyebrow at him. “So… you want to use me for a grade,” she replied flatly.

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I figure working with you means we definitely won’t fail, no matter how crap our idea is.”

Bee searched his face for dishonestly, but his current expression was simply too dopey to read. Plus, had she not just been thinking the same thing about the project? She couldn’t really fault him for trying to get a leg up on the assignment; it was good business, after all. Perhaps he really did just want to be her friend.

Bee sighed deeply, running a hand through hair. She looked down at her list: it really was pretty poor, all things considered. “I’m debating whether I should be offended or not,” she said after a moment, the sighed again before extending her hand for him to shake. “You know, you’re really throwing me to the big bad wolf here.”

Eddie seemed to understand who she was referring to, because his smile grew a bit wistful. “You don’t have to worry about Patricia,” he replied, taking her hand in a firm handshake. “She doesn’t like me much… anymore. Besides,” he continued, squeezing her hand just a fraction too tight, “something tells me you could hold your own if it came to a fight.”

Bee narrowed her eyes slightly, but even now he betrayed nothing. “Don’t tempt me,” she answered, extracting her hand and giving it a subtle shake. He just stood there, watching her. “Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are we going to work on this?”

Eddie blinked. “Right,” he said, sliding into the seat next to her. “Hey, you mind if I come over later? We aren’t going to finish this in half a class period, and I’d rather not have to compete for a quiet spot at Anubis House.”

“Um, maybe not tonight…” She hesitated, casting an apprehensive look Caroline’s way. Her aunt was watching them with an inquiring gleam in her eye while she made herself busy at her desk. “I’ll have to ask,” she said, focusing back on her new partner. “Tomorrow maybe?”

“Okay, I’ll text you, and we can confirm later. Gimme your phone.” Eddie made a grabbing motion toward her book bag, and Bee awkwardly picked it up.

She passed him her phone, and he clicked through to her contacts. Eddie stared at the screen bemusedly, then looked back up at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with so few contacts,” he admitted, plugging in his name and number. “I mean, just ‘Harriet’ and ‘Auntie Caro’? You call your mom by her first name?”

Shit. “Rude,” she chastised, snatching it back. Surely he couldn’t deduce anything from that. Still, that was careless of her. “Lots of people do, you know.”

“Sure, right,” he agreed, cocking his head. “But still… don’t you have any friends?”

Bee’s face was warm with… was that embarrassment? God, this was why she hated people her own age! Even the dullest of them could still bring out the most horrid emotions in her. “It’s a new phone,” she lied curtly.

“Really? Because it looks kinda old,” he challenged.

“Why am I getting a grilling here?” she laughed incredulously. “What? You’ll pester me until I admit I’m friendless? You’re not doing the American people any favours by proving the stereotype of being nosy.”

He at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was just curious… which I guess just means nosy. Gah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

Bee took a sharp breath through her nose. A little bit of the truth wouldn’t hurt if it got Eddie off her back: “Apology accepted… and if you really must know, I was homeschooled most of my life. This is my first year in any school system other than my kitchen table.”

Eddie sat up straighter, intrigued. “By who?” He jerked his head toward the front of the room. “Your mom?”

“You’re being nosy again,” she parried, saved from having to deflect any more questions by the ring of the bell. “Right, well…” She hurriedly gathered her belongings. “Start thinking up ideas better than the ones I’ve got, will you?”

“I’ll be in touch," he promised as she bid a hasty retreat from the classroom, "Denby..."