“Slave driver, more like.” Poe’s smile didn’t dim, and I felt another pang of jealousy. “By the time I get back she’ll probably have Industrial Light & Magic on its way.”

“Salt would never allow such a thing,” I argued.

“True.” He stood there for a second or so longer—not moving toward me, not touching me, and certainly not kissing me, but possibly thinking about all three—then took off.

I headed back into the library, where I was promptly conscripted into a debate about whether or not Clarissa should play Andromeda. Odile’s argument was that, in a white dress, her blond hair and pale skin would sell “virgin sacrifice” across the channel like nothing else. Demetria’s stance was that the whole idea of femininity being tied to “whiteness” was a racist position, and that Jenny was not only the most virginal member of the group, but also had the most authentic coloring when it came to portraying a Greek princess. Clarissa said whatever the club decided was okay with her, and Jenny said like hell were they chaining her to a rock, even if it was a fake chain on a fake rock.

“At the risk of having my balls torn off by Demetria,” George said, “I vote for Clarissa, white chick or no.”

“Yeah,” Harun said. “Just because she will be easier to see across the water. Her hair practically glows.”

Clarissa glared. Jenny beamed.

“I actually vote for Demetria,” said Ben. “Sorry, Clarissa. But I see her point, and I think it would be awesome to have a black Andromeda. Very in-your-face, pre-Raphaelites.”

Demetria shook her head. “Hell no. I’m playing the sea monster. I don’t do damsels.”

“Yeah, you do,” said George.

Around this time, Kevin suggested he play Andromeda, because he was the smallest member of the club, except for Odile, who had already claimed the part of Queen Cassiopeia, and I decided that, lest I found my ass chained to a rock, I’d volunteer to play the back end of the sea monster after all.

The rest of the morning was spent in scripting and rehearsals. Under protest, Clarissa took the part of the princess, with Ben (the tallest) as Poseidon, Kevin as Perseus, George as the king, and Harun and Jenny as courtiers. Demetria deigned to point out that, with the exception of Kevin, all knights of color were given non-speaking parts, and wasn’t that interesting. Odile deigned to respond that the lack of speaking made Demetria’s part no smaller in scope, and besides, the intended audience would never be able to hear them from across the water anyway.[10]

By noon, I’d found myself employed with basting together a scaly tail from the box of vaguely mildewed costumes we’d found in the attic of the main house. The entire sea monster looked, at first glance, like a miniature version of the kind of dragons they have in Chinese New Year parades. Pretty cool, actually. Why don’t we have one of these in the tomb at Eli?

A shadow fell over my work. “What are you doing?”

I glanced up. Darren Gehry, holding a box of Popsicles, was staring down at us.

“Begone, barbarian,” Demetria muttered into her headdress.

“Are those Popsicles?” George asked, jumping up and taking the box from Darren’s hands. “C’mere, man, and help me with this Gorgon head.”

“What is all this stuff?” Darren asked.

“Afraid we can’t tell you that,” George said, pulling out an orange pop and handing the box to Ben. “But if you’re really good, I’ll let you in on where the best place to watch from secret is.”

“George!” Clarissa exclaimed.

“Oh, come on,” George said. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing as me when you were his age.”

“I guess this answers the question of which of you are really Diggers,” Darren said, as the ice pops made the rounds.

“Ooh, he’s a quick one,” said Odile, examining the box for nutritional info. “Where’s your sister?”

“My dad wanted her to stay inside this afternoon,” Darren said. It was the first time I’d ever heard him mention his father.

“Probably because we’re a bad influence,” Demetria said. “Wouldn’t want her to get any new ideas about a woman’s place.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “We’re sitting here sewing.”

“Yeah, on a secret project,” said Kevin, waving his purple pop in the air like a scepter. “Hate to do this, kid…”

George made a face. “It’s ridiculous. Darren’s a legacy at Eli, and a legacy…elsewhere. Is there a word for the opposite of a patriarch?”

“Pretriarch?” I suggested.

“Plus, we’re playing a game. Let him join.”

“No, thanks,” Darren said. “I’m not into dress-up.”

“Well then,” Ben said. “I recommend you remember this word come Tap Night: ‘reject.’”

I laughed. Rose & Grave did require a flair for the dramatic.

“It’s okay,” Darren went on. “I have an appointment with my father soon anyway.”

Appointment? What an odd way to put it. I had appointments with my dentist, or my thesis advisor, not my parents. Then again, Darren was being homeschooled, so maybe he was meeting his dad for half an hour of Socratic dialogue. I could totally see old Kurt going for that.

“Did you get a chance to start on Monte Cristo?” I asked him.

“A little,” he admitted, ducking his head in guilt. “But I left it in the rec room yesterday. I should probably go grab it.”

I stood. “I’ll come with you. It’s time to stretch my legs anyway.”

We walked up to the house and I noticed that Darren was playing with the hem of his grubby T-shirt as he walked. I couldn’t imagine the guts it must have taken him to visit the college kids after the scene we’d witnessed that morning, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I could even begin to broach the subject. Poe’s approach to Darren seemed to be very hands-off, as if the last thing Darren wanted was to talk to anyone else about what was going on in his life, but then again, I had to consider the source. Poe didn’t like to talk to anyone about anything. And if Darren really wanted nothing more than to avoid us all, then why did he keep showing up? He’d come to talk to us on the boat, and before breakfast, and again just now.

I figured he was desperate for company in his own age bracket, and the Eli students were the closest he could get. And though I agreed with my fellow knights about keeping Digger activities restricted to Diggers only, I also understood George’s point. There was a pretty fair chance that Darren would eventually join our ranks, and plus, was our little skit really all that important to the makeup of the organization that we needed to keep it a secret? How juvenile was that?

A lot of times, it seemed like the secrecy of our society just served to hide how boring and pedestrian most of our activities really were.

“You know,” he confided in me, “I’ve seen these things so many times I could probably do it better than any of you.”

Well, that answered my question! “I bet,” I said with a chuckle. “You want my part? I’m the back end of the sea monster.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “But you don’t swim, and that’s the part that goes on the rowboat.”

I stared at him. “Rowboat?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Aren’t you guys using the rowboat?”

Um, not that anyone had told me. Darren’s expression had Amateurs written all over it, and I began to think that maybe this particular pretriarch had more experience with dress-up than he wanted to let on.

Time to change the subject. “Maybe, if your dad will let her, Odile can drop by your house this afternoon and meet your sister.”

“She’d like that,” Darren said. “I think she misses Bettina.”

“Who?”

He shrugged. “Our housekeeper. She lives with us and they’re really close. We don’t even get cell reception on the island, so Isabelle hasn’t been able to talk to her since we’ve been here.”

That wasn’t the only reason. I opened my mouth and shut it again, unable to formulate any type of response. So there it was. Darren didn’t know.