The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)

I took a few steps into the yard, distancing myself from the incessant buzzing.

“There’s no need to worry,” Owen said. “Bees aren’t aggressive when they’re swarming. Unless they feel threatened, of course. I suppose that’s one of the good things about Micah’s return. Possibly the only good thing. He’s taken over the beekeeping duties. It’s very hard work and Aunt Louvenia has never been one for delegation. But Micah has always had a way with the bees. A rapport. The most successful beekeepers do, you know.” Owen’s gaze shifted away from me and he frowned. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered.

I turned to find Micah Durant staring across the lawn at us. He’d removed his shirt and I could see the outline of his ribs along his emaciated torso. The back of my neck still tingled as if a bee had crawled inside my collar. I resisted the urge to put up a hand because I somehow knew that was what Micah wanted.

I must have made some involuntary sound or movement because Owen said, “Yes, he’s always had that effect on people. It’s really quite disconcerting the way he stares you down like that.”

I wanted to turn away, break eye contact with Micah Durant, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Lifting his face to the sky, he slowly unfurled his arms and froze in that rapturous pose while Owen and I stood enthralled.

All of a sudden, the droning in the flower beds became so loud that my first instinct was to run for cover. I started to flee to my vehicle but halted when a cloud of honeybees rose from the blossoms and flew across the yard toward Micah. Within a matter of seconds, every inch of his scrawny body was covered in thousands of droning, crawling honeybees until he no longer resembled anything human.

“My God,” I breathed.

“No worries,” Owen said. “They won’t hurt him. They know he means them no harm.”

“How do they know that?”

“Because he told them.”

I thought of the way Micah had lifted the honeybee from my neck, rotating his hand so that man and insect remained face-to-face.

Owen smiled. “You look skeptical, but honeybees are very communicative. Back in the old days, they were highly revered by the community. If the keeper died, someone from the family was dispatched to the hive to inform the bees of the news so they wouldn’t die or fly away.”

“That’s fascinating.”

“When Micah first left home, Louvenia actually lost some of her hives. But they seem to be thriving now.” His gaze was still on Micah. “You’re familiar with the term ‘bee bearding’?” He put a hand to his chin. “There’s a trick involving a caged queen that most keepers use to attract the workers. Micah doesn’t do that. He’s a natural lure.”

My attention was still riveted on the swarming bees. How did they not smother him? I wondered. His face was entirely covered. I started to ask Owen that very question, but just then Micah jumped up and down, gently dislodging the workers. After a moment, they scattered into the trees.

“Show’s over,” Owen said.

I had no doubt the spectacle had been for my benefit. Perhaps it was even meant as a subtle threat.

I’d seen and heard enough for one day. “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you and Louvenia have a lot to talk about.”

Owen was still scowling at Micah. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” he yelled.

Micah didn’t respond. He merely stood there smiling at us before he, too, turned and disappeared into the trees.

“Don’t mind him,” Owen said. “He likes to show off and you’re a fresh audience.”

“It is quite an impressive trick,” I said, edging toward my vehicle.

“We all have our talents,” Owen muttered. “Anyway, about those directions...”

“I’m sure I can find the cemetery on my own.”

“You may think that now, but wait until you’re in the woods.” He gestured toward the end of the driveway. “You’ll need to go back a couple of miles the same way you came in. Once you’re around the first sharp curve, start looking for an old iron marker to your left. Ironically, it looks like a cross now that the sign has rotted away, but it used to be a no-trespassing warning. The entrance is overgrown with vines and branches, so you’ll be apt to miss it if you don’t spot that marker. The road through the woods is passable in a vehicle like yours, but you’ll have to take it slow.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Eventually, you’ll come to a dead end. From there you’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot. There’s a path of sorts, but it’ll still be a rough hike. Louvenia was right. The woods are dense and the scenery is disorienting. You can easily get lost if you don’t pay attention to where you’ve been and where you’re going.”

“She also said something about a trick to the maze.”

“It’s simple. Bear left, always. There’s a spot in the middle where your instincts will tell you to go right. You’ll recognize what I mean when you get there. Ignore the impulse and keep left.”

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