The Bee Maker

by Mobi Warren

  “They won’t believe me, Beau. Honeybees and quarks are one thing, but me travelling to Ancient Crete?”

  “But you’re definitely making something happen when you fold your bees. It’s like you’re able to fold other dimensions into your origami. This is more than regular seizures, don’t you think? Maybe you’re rearranging quarks like Bella says the bees do and it’s creating some kind of time travel map.”

  “That’s crazy, Beau.” Melissa entered the kitchen and poured two glasses of water. She handed one to Beau.

  “Yeah, but what if? Isn’t origami already kind of magic, the way a flat piece of paper gets transformed into a three-dimensional object? Why not an origami that folds other dimensions into itself?”

  Melissa considered Beau’s words. As improbable as it all seemed, it did make a bizarre kind of sense. “Well, whatever is happening, the Yolo bees are still missing and I don’t know what to do.”

  “They’ll come back, Mel. You’ll find a way. Listen, Bella says a bowl of goat milk ice cream helps her think.”

  “I’m sorry, Beau. You could be eating ice cream. Instead you’re wasting your day with me, a raving lunatic.”

  “You know what? We can make our own. I’ll run back home for an ice cream maker and a gallon of goat milk.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you, Beau?”

  “Get what?”

  But Beau didn’t think she was crazy. He said he’d seen the bees himself.

  Melissa made an effort to smile. “We could flavor the ice cream with honey,” she offered. “Ba brought home a small jar the other day.”

  “That’s one thing they didn’t have in Ancient Greece,” said Beau as he hopped off the porch and leapt over the fence.

  “Honey? They had plenty of honey.”

  “No, ice cream!” he shouted over his shoulder. The goats scattered as he dashed across the meadow. Melissa watched him, shaking her head.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  BETRAYAL

  Melissa gave Hermes a quick bath, watered the pots of wilting herbs, and turned the hose on herself for a few seconds. She sat on the cypress bench to dry off then picked up a square of origami paper. Her plan wasn’t working. She hadn’t had another seizure in days although she’d been folding nearly nonstop. Her whole life she’d hated her seizures. Now when she needed one, wanted one—nothing.

  Beau stopped by after school. “Any luck?” he asked, then added, “Stupid question. From the look on your face, the answer is a big nada.”

  Melissa threw her hands into the air. “I used to dread seizures and now when I need one, nothing happens. Beau, I’ve got to get the Yolo bees back.”

  Beau sat down beside her and picked up a bee. “Maybe you’re trying too hard. I’m on my way to deliver feta cheese to the librarian. Want to come? Might be good to take a break.”

  Melissa hesitated, then put down the bee she was folding. “Okay. Nothing else is working.”

  They rode their bikes to the library. When they entered its wide oak doors, it was cool and dark inside as if they’d entered a cave. Beau handed some jars to the librarian sitting at her desk. She was middle-aged and had a long silver braid. She wore a white tank top with an image of a rattlesnake on it. She thanked Beau and turned her gaze back to a holo-screen. The front room was filled with holo-vid screens, but the adjoining room housed old-fashioned paper books and that’s where Beau led Melissa. She liked the musty, antique smell of the books. Beau pulled a book from a shelf, a volume on Greek myths.

  “Wonder how I missed this. I’ve been here a thousand times.”

  The librarian looked up. “That one?” She spoke with a slight twang. “Came in last week, donation from an estate sale over in Vanderpool.”

  Beau flipped through the pages until he came to a passage that caught his attention. “Check this out, Mel. Ever hear about the Thriai?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “It says here that they were bee nymphs, companions to the god Hermes. They divined the future by casting pebbles on the ground.”

  Melissa stared at Beau. “Hippasus,” she whispered, “makes patterns with pebbles.”

  Beau whistled. “Are you thinking what I am?”

  “Well, according to your theory, which is pretty darn crazy, my origami opens some kind of time travel path. So,”

  “maybe pebbles do the same for Hippasus.”

  “And that somehow links him to me.”

  Beau’s green eyes sparkled. He reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze. Melissa lifted a finger and lightly touched the bump at the bridge of her nose and considered what Beau was suggesting.

  “I don’t know, Beau. What if it’s not time travel at all and I’m just hallucinating?”

  “But what if it is time travel?”

  Just then, they heard the voices of other kids coming downstairs from the library’s second floor. Melissa slipped behind the stacks.

  “Hi, Beau.” That was a girl’s voice.

  “Hey, man.” A boy’s.

  “How come you weren’t at field day?” a different girl asked.

  “You missed the best part, Beau. That cold delicious ice cream.” The first girl again.

  Melissa peeked around the stack and saw three teens standing with Beau. The first voice belonged to a girl with wiry pink hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing a striped tank top over short shorts. She had long, well-toned legs. Maybe she was a runner. Melissa felt a little snake of jealousy uncoil, and then fear. What would Beau tell them?

  “Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well. Bad luck, huh?”

  “Or were you making your own luck again?” the other boy teased. “You weren’t suspended again, were you?”

  “No way.”

  “Hey,” the second girl said, “the movie starts in five minutes. Want to join us, Beau? We’re headed to the holo-theater over on campus.”

  “No thanks.”

  “It’s sci-fi.”

  “I’ve got enough sci-fi going on in my own life right now.”

  Melissa stiffened. Was Beau going to tell them about her secret?

  “What do you mean?”

  “Chupacabra sightings!”

  “No way!”

  Beau laughed. “Just kidding. Actually, I’ve got goat chores.”

  “Too bad,” the first girl said.

  “Okay, see you around.” The boy.

  “See ya.”

  Melissa waited until she heard the library door open and close before joining Beau by the bulletin board.

  “Friends of yours?”

  “Just kids I know. I would have introduced you, but—”

  “Actually I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Not ready to make your grand entry into Benefit society?” he teased.

  She punched him lightly on the arm. “There’s too much going on right now. You know.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He pointed at a bulletin board and said, “Hey look, the college is sponsoring a 5K race along the river trail on Sunday. Three days from now. You should enter.”

  Melissa barely glanced at the flyer. “This is hardly the time for a race,” she protested. “And anyway, I’m out of racing shape.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve seen you sprint by my place in the mornings with Hermes. And I think it’s the perfect time for a race. It’ll help take your mind off things.”

  Melissa hesitated. It did sound like fun. Folding origami bees wasn’t helping her reach Hippasus or retrieve the Yolo bees. Maybe a race would help shake things up.

  The librarian looked up from her desk and said, “I can sign you up right now, if you like. The library is co-sponsor. It’s a benefit for the bee sanctuary.”

  Beau and Melissa stared at each other and Beau raised an eyebrow. “Bella gets so wrapped up in her work she forgets to mention
basic things. Your Dad, too, I think.”

  Unable to convince Beau to sign up with her, Melissa said, “Okay, but I expect you to cheer me on. Ba never goes to my races.”

  “You’re kidding. Why not?”

  “Too busy. Not interested.”

  Beau gave her a concerned look and then gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.

  “Well, I’ll bring Amaltheia and Hermes and the three of us will whoop it up when you cross the finish line.”

  “I just hope it’s less than 110 degrees on Sunday morning.”

  “Actually, they’re predicting rain,” added the librarian. “Hopefully no more than a light shower at race time, though Lord knows we could use a good drenching. The river’s awfully low.”

  The sea was a pale blue stippled with white flakes of sunlight the morning Karpos returned to Dia. Unknown to Amethea, he visited with members of the Dia Council before climbing the path to her cottage. She recognized the heavy, impatient sound of his footsteps and came out to greet him in the courtyard. She set out a cup of diluted wine and a dish of sesame seed honey balls. Karpos plucked a rose from the trellis. He crushed the white petals in his hand, inhaled their perfume, and then tossed the bruised petals on the ground.

  “It is a good day,” he announced.

  Amethea invited him to sit at the small table and then stood across from him. She smiled nervously. Would he mention anything about the Heraea Games? She dropped the spindle in her hand and began twisting strands of wool into thread while Karpos drank his wine.

  “Your thread is fine and even,” he said. “My wife will be pleased.”

  “When do we leave for Larisa, Uncle?”

  “If all goes well, we will depart in five days time. I have found a buyer for the cottage and need some days to tie up business. You are not impatient, niece?”

  “No, Uncle.” Secretly, she was glad. A few more days meant she could fit in more runs on her beloved Dia.

  “Where is Hippasus?” Karpos asked, looking around.

  Amethea’s heart lifted. It was good to hear Karpos call her brother by his proper name. Encouraged, she said, “I apologize he’s not here to greet you. He’s out tending the goats with Kimon.”

  “A pity. I would have liked to see him. I have news for him, as well.”

  Encouraged even more, Amethea said, “Uncle, Hippasus and I are excited he will have a chance for proper studies. Mother gave him an inkwell in the shape of a beehive and was teaching him his alphabet.”

  “Studies?” Karpos wrinkled his face as if he’d tasted something foul.

  “You will find him a tutor, won’t you, Uncle?”

  “Tutor for a goat-boy?!” Karpos burst out laughing, then eyed Amethea shrewdly. “Amethea, I’m afraid you have misunderstood me. Hippasus will not be coming to Larisa with us.”

  His words hit Amethea like a stone. “Not coming with us, Uncle? But I thought—”

  “Niece, I assured you that he would be taken care of.”

  The words ‘taken care of’ suddenly held an ominous ring.

  “You intend him to stay on Dia with Kimon and Dika?”

  “Fostered by freed slaves? Nonsense. No, Hippasus has an overdue debt to pay.”

  A passing cloud shadowed Karpos’ face. Amethea felt a sudden chill.

  “Debt, Uncle? He is a child. What debt can he owe?”

  “Amethea, you must have known this was coming.”

  Amethea turned from her Uncle’s cold gaze. She wanted to flee. She did not want to hear what he was about to say.

  “In any case,” Karpos said between mouthfuls of wine and sesame seeds, “it is out of my hands. The Council reached their decision this morning and I gave my full consent. It was the righteous thing to do.”

  “What are you saying, Uncle? Consent to what?” Amethea felt a rising panic.

  “Hippasus will be offered as a sacrifice.”

  Amethea’s eyes widened like those of a frightened mare. She looked at Karpos in horror and disbelief. “What do you mean ‘sacrificed?” She threw her spindle on the table.

  Karpos rose from the table, slapped her, and pressed the spindle back into her hand. “Comport yourself, niece,” he growled. “He is not to be put to death like some common criminal. His death will be noble. He will die to end the fever.”

  Amethea lifted a hand to her stinging cheek, hot tears welling in her eyes. She could barely follow Karpos’ next words.

  “Two elders will come for Hippasus tomorrow morning. You must not tell him why. It would be unwise to frighten the boy. No, let him think they have invited him to a banquet. I had hoped to tell him about the invitation myself.”

  “Invite the goat boy to a banquet? You expect him to believe that?”

  Karpos cleared his throat and stroked his beard. “The gods must be placated. It would have been kinder for your mother to expose Hippasus at birth. Had she obeyed your father, obeyed me, there would be no fever now. Your brother is a pollution. Let him accept his fate.”

  “But he is no more than a boy!” Amethea protested. “Cretans are a civilized people. We do not sacrifice human beings!”

  “He is not human. He is half-goat,” Karpos retorted, “a satyr’s bastard.”

  “You can’t believe that!” Amethea cried. “Hippasus has a misshaped foot, that’s all. He’s not the first person born a cripple.”

  “And how do you explain the horns on his head?” Karpos stood up and loomed over her. “Can we be sure you yourself do not bear a satyr’s marks? You picked up the flute before you could even walk. Was that at Pan’s bidding?”

  Her uncle’s tone was menacing and a cold fear washed over Amethea. Would he bring a case against her, too? “Uncle,” she stammered, then dropped to her knees and flung her arms around his legs. He shoved her away and commanded, “Get up, niece. I do not accuse you, but you place yourself in danger if you oppose your brother’s sacrifice.”

  Amethea bent her head as bitter tears fell.

  “Do not warn Hippasus.” Karpos yanked her up and forced her to sit down. “Do not weep. Yield to the will of the gods.” Karpos leaned over and placed his bearded cheek close to her own. “Obey me, Amethea,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  Amethea’s mind went numb. Neither spoke for several moments. At last she picked up her spindle and began to drop it again. Drop and twist, wind the thread. Her hands shook. How would they kill Hippasus? Slit his throat the way they would a goat’s? For an instant she imagined plunging her spindle like a knife into Karpos’ chest, but then felt the fight drain from her limbs like blood from a butchered animal. Her spindle dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

  “You have today,” said Karpos. “Call Hippasus home. Roast a lamb. Play his favorite tunes on your aulos. Make his last hours pleasant ones.”

  “He will refuse meat,” was all she said.

  Karpos placed a hand on her shoulder. “Accept the Council’s decision, Amethea. Accept the will of the gods, and I promise I will take you to the Heraea Games this summer. You will place your victory statue next to your mother’s in the temple of Hera.”

  His words were like a splash of cold water. She stared at him, confused.

  “You are young, inexperienced,” he continued in a voice that was almost tender. He stroked her cheek. “But the Games will make you strong, young Atalanta.”

  “You mean to take me to the Games, Uncle?”

  “But the sacrifice of Hippasus must come first.”

  The hissing voice that she had tried so hard to silence in recent days now took command. Victory! You were meant for this, Amethea. You were meant for this, young Atalanta.

  An image of herself dashing to a win at the Heraea Games flashed in her mind. To earn victory at the Games! This was an anchor to hold on to, wings to fly by, a way to ease the horror of Hippasus’ death. The roar of the stadium crow
ds filled her ears. Like the drumming of a million cicadas flying on wings of woven light. Who was she to question the way of the gods? Hippasus must die. She must race.

  Amethea lifted her head to look at Karpos and then bowed it again. “I accept this, Uncle.”

  “You are wise.” Karpos joined his palms together. “You have a true athlete’s heart, Amethea. Didn’t Atalanta harden her heart as suitor after suitor met his doom? You must harden yours for one death only. And then victory shall be yours.”

  “And the fever will end?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “The fever will end.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SACRIFICE

  The seizure finally came. Melissa slipped into it the next afternoon as she and Beau were folding origami bees. Beau waited anxiously. When Melissa emerged from the seizure, her face twisted in horror.

  “What’s wrong?” Beau asked. “Did you find the Yolo bees?”

  “They’re going to kill him,” she said.

  “Kill the bees?”

  “Hippasus. They’re going to sacrifice him. He’s just a little boy, but they’re going to drown him.” Melissa felt sick to her stomach.

  “What do you mean? Why would anyone want to drown him?”

  Melissa looked down at her hands and saw an origami bee there, perfect and whole. In sudden exasperation, she crumpled the paper insect and threw it on the ground.

  Beau bent down to pick it up and started to smooth out the paper, but Melissa grabbed his arm and shook her head. “What’s the point, Beau? Hippasus is going to die. The Yolo bees will never return. My origami can’t help a thing.”

  Beau put a hand on her arm. “Maybe you have these visions because there’s something you can do.”

  “What? What can I do?” Melissa shook his hand off then grabbed a handful of bees from the basket and threw them into the yard. “I can’t fold any more. I just can’t.”