It took me three tries.

On the third attempt, the beetle, supported by others and a crack in the pavement, successfully struck the match against the side of the box as the other bugs adjusted its position.  A small flame flared at the end.

Um. Wow.

What are you using this match for? Gonna set fire to the rain the Merchants? Or maybe we aren’t going back to the second group after all.

Other bugs leveraged matches out of the box the woman had dropped, gripping the matches in their mandibles, sometimes two or three bugs to one match.  Like a relay, they touched one match to another, passing on the flame from the beetle’s match to each of the others.

How fitting that I’d read about this on the starting day of the Olympics.

It wasn’t long before there were more than thirty beetles each with a lit match in its mandibles.  Some died from the heat their own matches generated, but most were able to stand it.

Damn, nice.

I could imagine the visual of it; kind of like a small sea of tiny flames like lighters at a concert.  Or maybe it was closer to a lynch mob, a crowd holding torches, radiating with an imminent threat of violence.

Hm, it does sound like we’re back to the Merchant fight – I don’t remember anyone dropping a box of matches when I read the first part four days ago, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Or it might’ve happened offscreen while we were flashbacking.

Hoiwdla! Let’s get back to Taylor’s defense against the Merchants entering her territory!

Quietly, I set the serving tray down on one of the luggage trunks at one corner of the room, collected my own tea and went upstairs to the second floor.

And we’ve come full circle.

■

Aaand it’s time to deal with the second group, isn’t it?

Obediently, she went to do just that.

I put the kettle on, then got the sugar.  What did I have that would go well with tea?

Fried beetle?

I got out a box of graham cookies with chocolate on one side.  I poured out the tea into mugs and put a teabag in each.  I poured milk into a small measuring cup so Sierra could have milk with her tea if she wanted, and similarly doled out sugar into a small bowl and placed a spoon inside it.  Then I tore open the box of cookies and sorted them onto a plate.

Domestic, hospitable Skitter is pretty neat.

I put everything onto a tray and went to find the room where Sierra would be seated.

She was lying on the bunk bed, already fast asleep.

Aww. 🙂

It wouldn’t surprise me if she hasn’t had a good sleep over the last two days. Now she’s in a decent bed in the nice – if not fully-furnished – hive of someone who claims to want to protect her and seems genuine about it. I think Skitter’s reply to her comment about domesticity really did help her feel more comfortable about all of this.

Sleep well, Sierra.

“This is strangely domestic for a villain.”  I turned to look at her and she hurried to add, “I mean-”

And there it is. The V word.

(No, not vagina. Why would you think I meant vagina.)

Maybe that’ll help it sink in for Taylor why Sierra has been reacting the way she has.

Also, hey, villains gotta live somewhere too!

“It’s fine.  I’m not offended, I am a villain.  But I’m also a person under this mask.  Someone who prefers tea to coffee, who enjoys reading, who…”  I floundered.  “…likes sweet and savory foods but dislikes anything spicy or sour.  Point being, I’m someone who wants to make sure you get taken care of.  Especially if you’re among the people I’m protecting in the territory I’m claiming.  Go.  Find a bed.”

…I really like this reply.

Not gonna lie, I hope Sierra sticks around here after this Arc. I like her dynamic with Skitter.

“I’m making tea,” I spoke, as I came down the stairs.  “You want some?  Are you hungry?”

I really don’t think Sierra was expecting Skitter to be so hospitable.

“I’m not a tea drinker, and I haven’t had it in years, but that suddenly sounds like the best thing in the world.”

Hehe.

I suppose this tea ties back to the beginning again. I wonder if Skitter’s going to be like “Oh, I can sense some Merchants entering my territory. I’m gonna go sit upstairs and deal with it. Don’t come up, I wanna take my mask off so I can drink the tea.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a kitchen table or chairs or even a living room for us to have the tea.  There’re beds in the other room, if you want something to sit on, and you can make yourself comfortable there.”

Better than nothing, I suppose.

For her part, she didn’t argue.

We made our way to the beach, and after I’d checked both ways, I led her into the storm drain.  It took some urging to get her to enter the darkness, and I had to grip her hand to lead her into the oppressive black.

This is where children go to get killed by villains and/or clowns.

I unlocked the barred door that led into the cellar and locked it behind us.

When I flipped the switches to light up the ground floor, her eyes went wide.  “You have power.  Erm, electricity.”

Hehe, yeah, in this world I suppose that needs to be clarified sometimes.

But yes. Skitter has both.

“And running water.  Stay here a moment.”  I took the stairs two at a time to get to the second floor.  Nothing too sensitive there, but I did walk up to the stairs leading to the third floor and slid a panel across the stairwell.  With my keys, I locked it in place.  I didn’t feel it was that obvious to anyone glancing around the room.

Hm, alright. I guess this might be why she was on the second floor at the beginning of the chapter.

Or will be, I guess.

It looked like a section of wall until you saw the keyhole.  I verified the bugs were all locked up tight in their individual compartments in the lids of each terrarium, then headed back to Sierra.

Neat.

You know what would be cool? A Skitter lock. A door that is locked or unlocked by manipulating bugs. I can think of ways to make something like that, though I suppose certain other powers might be able to cheese it.

“I can’t think of anything major right this second.”

“Okay.”  I thought.  But she might come up with something more?  “Where are you staying?”

She hesitated to answer, but she finally relented and admitted, “Nowhere.  I was out all last night, looking.  I was going to go back to the place we’d stayed at first, our family friend, but…”

Welp.

…guest bed on the ground floor of the Hive?

“The mold problem, and you said it was crowded.  That won’t do.  You’ll come with me.”

I love how Taylor doesn’t even seem to think twice about it, at least not before saying it.

So does that mean she was downstairs while the scene I read last time played out? Better make sure she doesn’t come upstairs while Taylor’s mask is off.

Although Sierra knowing Taylor’s face could make for an interesting subplot.

Concern flickered across her face.  “I don’t know-”

“It’s better if you’re close, so you can answer any questions I have and so I can keep you informed.”

That seems reasonable.

She frowned, and I could practically see her working to think of a way to get out of my offer without offending.  I knew if she didn’t come with me, she’d probably wind up searching for a mediocre to unsatisfactory place.

Her hesitation is very understandable. Sure, Skitter is being very open to helping her with her brother, and claims to have good intentions for the neighborhood in general, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she can trust the villain enough to go live with her.

“This isn’t really negotiable,” I told her, just to forestall any excuses.

Heh. “I’m not going to let you weasel your way out of me helping you.”

Because I do think helping Sierra with her living conditions for the time being is Taylor’s main motivation here. The thing about staying close seems to be as much an excuse to do that as whatever Sierra was going to come up with for not letting Skitter do that.