Miss Mayhem
“What for?” David asked, but Alexander only shook his head.
“All in good time. Now, Miss Price, the Peirasmos began as of midnight tonight. There are three trials you will undergo before the end of this moon cycle. The trials may be physical in nature, or perhaps tests of the mind, of your spirit. You will not know when they are coming, and you will not receive any assistance. To do so violates the laws of the Peirasmos, and would be considered a failure of the tests. At the end of the trials, you will be stronger, quicker, better at being a Paladin, and Miss Franklin”—another nod at Bee—“will lose her own Paladin powers and return to life as before. Have I made myself clear?”
“As mud,” I muttered, and he frowned again.
“Pardon?”
Waving that off, I took a deep breath. “I get it. I do these trial things, I get better powers, I don’t die, and Bee gets to be de-Paladined.” I looked back at Bee, still standing in the doorway. “Is that what you want?”
She didn’t even hesitate, her head bobbing up and down quickly. “Yes. God. Like . . . a lot.”
That was it, then. It’s not like I’d ever had much of a choice in this thing—“do this or die” is not a choice, let’s be real—but seeing the relief on Bee’s face was enough to make me feel a little better about all of this. Go through these trials, get even more powerful, don’t get killed, and Bee gets to be happy? That seemed worthwhile to me.
But that wasn’t the only reason I found myself turning back to Alexander and saying, “I guess I’m in.” It was that something twisting in my stomach, and I knew it was part nervousness, but more than that, it was a little bit . . . excitement. Look, I’m not saying I didn’t feel terrible about this—after all, it was probably going to mean more lying, and definitely more danger, but for the past few months, I’d felt like I was in this weird stasis, waiting for something to happen. And now here it was.
And here was Bee.
I took her hand and started pulling her toward Alexander’s office door, even as David said, “So that’s it? We’re leaving?”
“We need to get Bee home,” I said. “And I think we’ve heard everything Alexander has to say.” Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I looked at the Ephor with raised eyebrows. “Unless there’s some other horrible thing you’d like to dump on us tonight?”
To my surprise, he replied, “No, I’m finished for now.”
At least he didn’t try to argue that this had not been horrible. That was something.
The four of us made our way back down the hall, me and Bee in front, the boys trailing behind. We weren’t even halfway to the front door when David said, “So where did they have you?”
Next to me, Bee twisted to glance back at him. “Here,” she said. “But . . . it’s like it wasn’t here. It was this house, but not in this place.”
“But this is the house that was originally here,” David said, walking a little faster so that he was right behind us, the toes of his sneakers nearly catching the back of my heels. “He . . . magicked it up or whatever. Are you sure it wasn’t here?”
Bee’s fingers were clammy in mine when she answered, “I never went outside, but I don’t think it was here. Or maybe it wasn’t this house.” Stopping, she pressed her fingers to her forehead. “It was just a bunch of rooms, like a hotel. I never saw anyone but Alexander, but there was food, and all these books about Paladins and Oracles and—”
“What did the books say?” David asked, and that was enough for me. I stopped in front of the door, my hand already on the crystal knob.
“Okay, look. This has been a weird night. Bee has had a weird few months. Ease up on the third degree, please?”
David’s blue eyes fixed on mine, his fingers flexing at his side. “We need to know this stuff, Pres.”
Ryan’s hand came down on David’s shoulder. It was a friendly enough gesture, but it was firm, too. Unlike me, Ryan could be firm with David.
“Harper’s right,” he said. “We can talk about all this later, but for now, let’s get Bee home.”
“Home,” she mumbled, following me out onto the porch in a kind of daze. “God, what do my parents think happened to me?” When she turned to look at me, her eyes were so big that I could see the whites all the way around her irises. “Are they okay? Are the police looking for me?” Her grip tightened on my arm. “Have I been on one of those true-crime TV shows?”
“No,” I told her, covering her hand with mine. “No, everyone thinks you were at cheerleading camp. Ryan did a spell.” I stopped suddenly, pulling Bee up short. “I . . . should probably explain that.”
But Bee shook her head. “No, Ryan’s a Mage and does magic. Alexander told me when I was . . . wherever I was.” She frowned slightly, tugging her hand from mine and hugging herself. “But I have to be honest, I still don’t totally get . . . any of this.”
“We’ll explain in the car,” I told her.
So we did. The entire ride back into town, the three of us took turns explaining how all this had come about, starting with that first night in the school bathroom, ending at the frat party tonight.
By the time we were done, we were at my house, and the car was very quiet except for Bee’s breathing.
“That’s . . . a lot,” she said at last, and all three of us muttered, “Yeah,” in unison.
Her fingers were twisted tight in the hem of her black T-shirt as she lifted her eyes to me and said, “Do you think it would be okay if I slept over at your house tonight? I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with my parents yet. Especially since they didn’t even miss me.”
That would be weird, I realized, and I nodded quickly. “Of course you can, no problem.”
David shook his head. “We need to keep talking about this,” he said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “About what they told Bee, and about how we can prepare for the Peirasmos, and about what the heck I’m supposed to do without any powers, and—”
I cut him off with a palm laid flat across his mouth. “Tomorrow,” I told him. “Or the next day. For now, let me help Bee. Everything else will wait.”
David mumbled something behind my hand, and I rolled my eyes.
“She’s right,” Ryan said from the back, leaning forward and bracing both his hands on the headrest of my seat. “It’s late, we’ve had a lot to process, and Harper and Bee should have some time to themselves.”
With that, he lifted one hand to slap the back of David’s seat. “Don’t try to come between these two, man, trust me,” he said, his voice light and jovial even though I was guessing he didn’t feel it. I’d known Ryan long enough to know that tightness in his voice when he was worried about something.
But thankfully David nodded. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right, nothing we can do right now. We’ll talk later.”
With that, he leaned over like he was going to kiss me, only to pause, his eyes flicking toward the backseat.
Scoffing, I reached out and grabbed his face with both hands, planting a quick but firm kiss on his lips. I didn’t like PDA, but Ryan and Bee weren’t the public, and it wasn’t like they didn’t know we were dating.
Oh. Wait.
It wasn’t like Ryan didn’t know we were dating.
I looked back at Bee, who was watching me with her mouth slightly open. “Um. That is . . . another thing we should’ve mentioned,” I said, a little meekly, but Bee was already reaching for the door handle.
“One trauma at a time, please.”
David winced at that, but it made me feel better to hear a little of the old Bee in her voice. I gave him another quick kiss, this one on the cheek, and then stepped out of the car to stand next to Bee at the edge of my driveway.
Bee watched Ryan and David drive off into the night, and stepped close to me, our arms brushing. “Your life got weird,” she said after a long pause, and I thought of Alexander, of everything that might be coming.
“And getting weirder.”
Chapter 7
BEE WAS GONE when I woke up
in the morning. A note left on my dresser said she’d walked home. Since her house was only a couple of blocks from mine, it wasn’t all that weird, but I still wished she’d hung around a little longer. It was like I needed to convince myself that she was okay. But I reminded myself that she definitely needed some Parental Time, and probably wanted to sleep in her own bed.
Mom was already up and making breakfast when I went downstairs, which was surprising. It was Sunday, which meant we went to the earlier church service, then out for breakfast afterward.
“Eggs?” she asked, gesturing to the pan on the stove.
The sight of them made me a little queasy; I’d never been a big breakfast person. So I shook my head and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “No, thanks.”
Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn Mom looked a little disappointed. Tucking her hair—dark like mine, but cut shorter—behind her ear, she turned back to the stove. “Okay. I could also make bacon? Ooh!” She set the spatula down on the trivet I’d made her at summer camp years ago. It was supposed to look like a frog, but something had happened in the kiln to turn it into more of a dark green amoeba. “How about pancakes?”
I glanced at the clock, then back at Mom, still in her robe. “Don’t we have church?”
She gave a little shrug, turning back to the stove. “I thought we might skip this Sunday. Spend some family time.”
With that, Mom turned back to the stove. The eggs had started to smoke a little, and she heaved a sigh as she scraped them around the skillet.
I frowned. Bad enough that things were weird with David right now. I wasn’t sure I could handle family problems on top of that. Maybe Mom wanted us to hang out because she needed to tell me she and Dad were separating, or she was sick, or . . .
I stood up, putting the apple back in the bowl. “Mom, is everything all right?”
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “As far as I know. Why?
The eggs were completely burned now, and Mom made a faint “tsking” sound as she moved the pan off the eye of the stove. My mom was traditional in so many ways—in the Junior League, taught Sunday school, wore makeup even if she was just staying home all day—but she was not the best cook.
“You never skip church,” I told her. “Or make breakfast. Or get up this early. So I thought maybe something was up.”
Mom dumped the eggs in the trash and put the pan in the sink. “It just seems like I never see you.” She crossed her arms, the delicate gold bracelet around her wrist flashing. It had belonged to my sister, and Mom had worn it ever since Leigh-Anne had died two years ago.
When I didn’t answer, Mom gave a rueful smile. “I guess missing you is to be expected with as busy as you are, but . . .” She trailed off, her eyes moving over my face. “I worry about you, sweetie.”
I crossed in front of the island in the center of the kitchen. “There’s nothing to worry about,” I said. I thought I sounded pretty convincing, given that I was lying through my teeth. I’d gotten good at lying over the past few months. It wasn’t something I was particularly proud of, but I didn’t see a way around it. The fewer people I loved who knew about Paladins and Oracles and Ephors and all the other crazy stuff that had taken over my life, the safer they’d all be.
“You’ve gone through so many changes recently,” Mom said, the corners of her mouth turning down.
You have no idea, I thought. What I said was, “Nothing major, though.”
Mom’s frown deepened. “‘Nothing major’? Harper, you broke up with the boy you’d been in love with for years, you started dating a boy we all thought you’d hated for years, and you hardly ever spend any time with Bee.” For a second, her eyes got slightly hazy, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Where is Bee, anyway? Didn’t she go somewhere?”
“She’s back,” I told her, not having to fake the brightness in my voice. “Remember, she was at cheerleading camp? She got back last night, actually.”
Some of the wrinkles around Mom’s brow eased. “Oh. Well, that’s nice. But Bee aside, I’m still concerned about you and Ryan. You seem happy, but—”
I squeezed her fingers. “I am happy. And Ryan and I still hang out; we’re friends. We just don’t date anymore.”
After a moment, Mom squeezed back. “Okay. But you promise everything is all right?” Smiling, she brushed my hair back from my forehead with her free hand. “You’re not going to suddenly dye your hair blue or start piercing things, are you?”
I shook my head with a little shudder. “Okay, the very thought of that makes me want to vomit. No.”
Mom laughed a little at that before wrapping me in a hug. “Well, there’s the Harper Jane I know.”
• • •
On Monday morning, I was heading out to my car when Bee’s white Acura came roaring up to the curb. She sat behind the wheel, her curly blond hair a cloud around her bright, smiling face, music blaring on the radio.
I smiled back, but something about her grin bothered me. It seemed . . . fake. Still, I made my way out to the car. “You offering me a ride?”
“A ride and coffee!” Triumphantly, she held a Starbucks cup out the window, and I took it, still feeling uneasy. I barely slid into the passenger seat before she was pulling back into the street, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
“So did everything go okay with your parents?” I asked, holding the coffee tight to keep it from sloshing through the little hole in the lid as Bee took a corner a little too fast. I almost had to yell to be heard over the music.
“It was fine!” Bee said, and I wished she would take off her sunglasses so I could see her face. “I mean, weird. At first it was like they didn’t even recognize me, or it was like they had just woken up or something.” She gave a little shrug. “But then it was fine. Like you said, they think I’ve been at cheerleading camp this whole time.”
We were almost to the school now—it wasn’t very far from my house—and I put my coffee in the cup holder before reaching out to touch her arm gently. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Are you?” she asked, glancing over at me. I could see her brows rising over the tops of her aviators. “I’m not the one who could have super-dangerous challenges thrown at me at any moment. Although”—the corners of her mouth turned down—“I guess I will be if something happens to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” I said with a confidence I definitely did not feel. “I’ll get through this, you can go back to being normal, and everything will be like it was before. Well, mostly.”
Bee pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine, turning to face me. She slid her glasses onto the top of her head and studied my face. “Nothing is ever going to be normal again, is it?” Then she frowned. “But it hasn’t been normal for you in a long time.”
Look, I definitely wasn’t thrilled my best friend had been all magicked up, and was now my backup in case I got horribly killed during some supernatural trials. But I had to admit that Bee actually knowing what was going on, being able to talk to her about it and have her understand, felt good. One fewer person to lie to was always a nice thing as far as I was concerned.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’ve had months to get used to this kind of thing.”
“That’s what all the hanging out with Saylor was about, huh?” she asked, opening her car door. “The karate stuff?”
I nodded. “I’ll tell you the whole story at lunch, promise.”
We both stepped out of the car and into the bright spring morning. The smell of flowers hung in the air, and the grass sparkled with dew. It was a gorgeous day, and I took a deep breath, feeling a little better. On a morning like this, it seemed impossible to believe that anything bad could happen. I had my best friend back, a new pair of ballet flats on my feet, and a boyfriend heading toward me with a smile on his face and . . . what appeared to be bowling shoes on his feet.
“Where did you even get those?” I asked as he came up to stand bes
ide me, and he held one foot out, turning his ankle.
“Salvation Army. They’re cool, right?”
They did kind of match his shirt, which I guessed I should consider a win.
I turned to say something to Bee, but she was already heading off toward the school, shoulders held back.
Following my gaze, David nodded toward Bee. “She okay?”
I thought about Bee’s bright smile, how fake it had seemed, and I gave an uneasy shrug. “She’s not not okay, I guess,” I finally settled on, and David nodded.
“Kind of the status quo around here.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Bee wasn’t in any of my classes that day, which wasn’t a surprise since technically she wasn’t registered for spring semester. Ryan had said he’d meet her at the main office to do the best he could, Mage-wise, to help out with that, but by the time lunch rolled around, I was getting a little worried about Bee. Stepping outside, I scanned the courtyard for her bright hair, but there was no sign of her. Ryan was out there, though, already sitting at one of the picnic tables with Mary Beth and the twins, but there was no sign of Brandon, Ryan’s best friend and Bee’s boyfriend.
Catching Ryan’s eye, I mouthed, “Bee?”
He gave me a thumbs-up, then a little wave, inviting me to sit at his table. Mary Beth glanced behind her, and while she didn’t, like, hiss or anything, I could see her eyes narrow. So, yeah, sitting with them was out.
I thought about going back into the building to look for Bee, but she was a big girl, and if she wanted to handle this on her own, I needed to respect that.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced around the courtyard again, and saw David waving to me, so I joined him and his friends from the newspaper, Michael and Chie. The three of them were sitting underneath the big oak tree on the edge of the courtyard, and when I walked over, David jumped up to pull a jacket out of his bag for me to sit on.
“Thanks,” I told him, arranging myself on his tweed. Chie and Michael, who’d been laughing when I came over, now sat in silence, paying a lot of attention to their lunch.