Bee took a sip of her drink and nodded. “We should do it.”
Blinking, I chewed on the end of my straw and tried to think of the best way to answer that. A group of girls I recognized from school walked by, their arms laden down with bags, and Bee watched them pass with a wistful expression on her face.
But then she shook her head quickly, and turned back to the flyer, tapping it with one manicured nail. “Look at the date.”
I did. “May first?” I read, and Bee nodded. “Last day of this moon cycle. Didn’t Alexander say that the trials would take up one full moon cycle?”
He had, but all that had meant to me was that we had a nice timeline—almost a month. I hadn’t considered what might be happening on any of those days.
“The Ephors are big drama queens, right?” Bee said, still looking at the flyer. “Look at what happened on the night of Cotillion.” When she lifted her head, her eyes were brighter than I’d seen them in a long time. “The trials are going to be connected to you, which makes me think they’ll be at school, or involve the town somehow. Stuff like that since that’s, like, your whole wheelhouse.”
Bee definitely had a point, and I wasn’t sure what bugged me more: the idea of something big going down in front of my whole town again, or that she had had that idea and I hadn’t.
When I didn’t say anything, Bee gave a little shrug. “And, hey, if I’m wrong, it’ll still be something kind of fun we did together. Something normal.”
I couldn’t help but snort at that. “Okay, Bee, I love you, but the Miss Pine Grove Pageant is far from normal. There is nothing normal about parading around in bathing suits and high heels.” I didn’t add that when my sister, Leigh-Anne, had done the pageant years ago, my parents had practically had a stroke over it. I didn’t even want to think how they’d react to me wanting to do it.
Flashing me a look, Bee stirred her drink. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. And it’s not that much different from Cotillion.”
It was worlds away from Cotillion, and I started to say that, but then Bee stabbed at her drink and said, “And, hey, maybe more people will remember I exist if I have a big honking tiara on my head.”
She was joking, but the words still cut pretty deep, and I chewed on the end of my straw, thinking. I couldn’t blame Bee for wanting some normalcy in her life after all that had happened to her. Besides, if she was right that this was when the last trial would happen, best to be prepared.
“It might look good on a college application,” I acknowledged. “Showing a broad interest in things.”
Bee smiled, her teeth straight and white. “Is that a yes?”
I thought of how The Aunts would react to the sight of another one of their nieces parading around in a swimsuit at the rec center and shuddered. “Do you promise I won’t have to sing?”
Bee beamed at me. “Of course not.” Then a dimple popped up in her cheek as she narrowed her eyes and added, “Besides, you’re supposed to have an actual talent for the talent competition, Harper, and no one could call your singing a ‘talent.’”
I tossed a balled-up napkin at her. “Ha-ha.”
“Sign-ups for this are next week,” I told Bee, tapping the flyer. “So you prepare answers about world peace, and I’ll brush up on my baton skills.”
Bee took the paper and folded it up, putting it in her purse. “Good deal.” She glanced up then, her face brightening. “Oh, look, it’s Ryan!”
I turned in my chair and our eyes met across the food court. For a second I thought that maybe he hadn’t gotten my texts, but then I saw the guilt flickering across his face. I could tell he wanted to bolt, but it wasn’t like he could pretend he hadn’t seen me.
“Be right back,” I said to Bee, then I walked as quickly as I could to where Ryan stood. He already had his hands shoved in his pockets, so I knew what he was going to say before he said it.
Still, I tried. “Did you get my texts?”
“Harper—”
“There are new wards set up around town, and I don’t know what the heck they do.”
“Yeah, I put them up.”
I don’t think my jaw has ever literally dropped before now. “What do you mean you put them up?”
“Alexander asked me to. It’s part of the thing,” he said, waving one hand. “The . . . peripatetic . . . peri—”
“Peirasmos,” I hissed back. “And what do they do, exactly?”
Ryan’s shoulders rolled underneath his shirt. “They just make sure David stays here. Like how Saylor’s wards kept other people out, these keep him in.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Why would Alexander want to do that?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted. “He just said it had something to do with the trials, and—”
“So Alexander has been in touch with you, but not me? And you . . . didn’t bother to tell me?”
“It was literally two days ago, Harper. I was going to tell you, I promise, but . . . look, Mary Beth is weird about me spending time with you, and I’m trying to respect that.”
It was one of the biggest struggles of my life not to roll my eyes at him right that second, but I managed admirably.
“I understand,” I said, “but I’ve spent the past few days jumping at shadows over this thing. If you know anything about Paladin stuff, you have got to tell me. Especially about stuff that could be dangerous to David.”
Ryan heaved a sigh, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “I’m trying, Harper. I seriously am, but—”
“This isn’t easy on any of us,” I reminded him, but Ryan shook his head.
“No, it’s not, but you have to admit, it’s a little easier on you and David than it is on me.”
I looked up at him. “How do you figure that? David’s visions make him feel like his head is splitting open, I’m worried about him, worried about me, and you, and Bee—”
Ryan leaned closer. “Look, I didn’t say it was a freaking cakewalk for y’all, but at least you have each other. When you get your weird”—he waved his hands in the air around me—“Paladin feelings or David gets one of his visions, you can tell each other. David knows exactly what’s going on with you, and you know exactly what’s going on with him. You don’t have to lie, either of you.”