The hall smells of roasted pork and wet wool. You sit in the corner. Your hands are clean. They are always clean now. You scrubbed them for an hour after the incident. The water was ice cold. It numbed the nerve endings until your skin felt like parchment. You are a sinner. That is what they call you. You are the prisoner in the gilded cage of your own reputation.

Thomas Bradshaw stands at the head of the table. He holds a goblet of red wine. The liquid looks like blood. He looks at you. His eyes are flat. He does not blink.

Eat, he says. His voice is a dry leaf scraping against stone.

I eat. The meat is tough. I chew it. I swallow. It sits in my stomach like a stone. I do not taste it. I am not here. I am in the cellar. I am in the dark. I am with the bees.

The bees.

You remember the hive. You built it in the garden. You built it with your own hands. You loved them. You loved the way they hummed. You loved the way they built their world, hexagon by hexagon, perfect and cold. You loved them more than your wife. You loved them more than your children. You loved them more than God.

That is the sin. Not the killing. The killing was an accident. The sin was the love.

Eleanor Fairchild sits across from you. She is beautiful. Her hair is braided tight against her scalp. She is not looking at you. She is looking at Thomas. She is waiting for him to speak. She is waiting for the verdict.

Did you do it? she asks. Her voice is soft. It is the voice of a snake.

I did not kill him, you say. You do not mean to say it. The words come out of your throat like stones.

Thomas laughs. It is a short, sharp sound. A bird breaking a bone.

He is dead, Thomas says. The beekeeper is dead.

Yes.

And you were with him.

Yes.

And you have his rings.

No.

You look down at your hands. The rings are in your pocket. They are warm. They are heavy. They are the only things you have left. You took them because you had to. You took them because he was gone. You took them because the bees were angry.

The bees.

You close your eyes. You can see them. A black cloud. A swirling vortex of wings and stingers. They filled the air. They filled the room. They did not care about Thomas. They did not care about you. They only cared about the honey. They only cared about the hive.

You opened the hive. That is what you did. You opened it because the swarm was coming. You knew it. You heard the roar in the wind. You heard the vibration in the ground. You knew they would kill him. You knew they would kill you.

But you opened it.

You opened it because you wanted to see them. You wanted to be close. You wanted to feel the sting. You wanted to be part of the hive. You wanted to be the queen.

Thomas slams his hand on the table. The goblets rattle.

You are a traitor, he says.

To whom? you ask.

To the house. To the law. To the bees.

The bees do not have a law, you say.

They have a queen, Thomas says.

And you were her servant.

I was her lover, you say.

Silence falls. It is thick. It is heavy. It presses against your eardrums.

Eleanor looks at you. Her eyes are wide. There is fear in them. But there is also something else. Something dark. Something hungry.

Show us, she says.

Show us what? you ask.

The rings.

No.

Show us the rings, Thomas says. His voice is low. It is dangerous.

You reach into your pocket. Your fingers touch the gold. It is smooth. It is cold. You pull out the rings. They are two. One for the left hand. One for the right. They are engraved with the symbol of the hive. A bee in a circle.

You place them on the table. They make a small sound as they hit the wood. A click. Like a lock turning.

Thomas looks at the rings. He does not touch them. He looks at you.

You think you own us, he says.

I own nothing, you say.

You own the secret.

What secret?

The secret of the hive.

There is no secret.

There is always a secret, Thomas says.

You look at the rings. They are beautiful. They are perfect. They are lies.

You remember the night. You remember the dark. You remember the roar. You remember the pain.

You did not kill him. You let the bees kill him.

That is the truth. That is the lie.

Thomas picks up the rings. He holds them in his hand. He looks at them. He looks at you.

You are free, he says.

Free? you ask.

You are free, Thomas says. Go. Leave the house. Leave the city. Leave the world.

You stand up. Your legs are shaking. You feel light. You feel empty. You feel alive.

You walk to the door. The door is open. The night is black. The wind is cold.

You step outside. The air hits your face. It smells of rain. It smells of earth. It smells of death.

You walk. You do not look back. You do not look down. You only look forward.

The city is behind you. The house is behind you. The bees are behind you.

You are alone.

You are free.

You are a sinner.

You walk into the dark.

The dark is full of wings.

The wings are full of light.

The light is full of pain.

The pain is full of love.

The love is full of hate.

The hate is full of peace.

The peace is full of war.

The war is full of silence.

The silence is full of sound.

The sound is full of you.

You are the hive.

You are the queen.

You are the bee.

You are the stinger.

You are the honey.

You are the poison.

You are the gold.

You are the visit.

You are the end.

The end is the beginning.

The beginning is the end.

You are here.

You are gone.

You are never gone.

The wind blows.

The rain falls.

The night ends.

The day begins.

The sun rises.

The sun sets.

The moon rises.

The moon sets.

The stars appear.

The stars disappear.

The earth turns.

The earth stops.

The earth turns.

The earth turns.

The earth turns.

You are turning.

You are turning.

You are turning.

You are still.

You are still.

You are still.

You are gone.

You are gone.

You are gone.

The hall smells of roasted pork.

The hall smells of wet wool.

The hall smells of blood.

The hall smells of honey.

The hall smells of you.

The hall smells of nothing.

The hall smells of everything.

The hall is empty.

The hall is full.

The hall is you.

The hall is me.

The hall is us.

The hall is them.

The hall is the bees.

The bees are the hall.

The hall is the hive.

The hive is the hall.

The hall is the world.

The world is the hall.

The world is the hive.

The hive is the world.

The world is you.

You are the world.

The world is the end.

The end is the world.

The world is the beginning.

The beginning is the world.

The world is the start.

The start is the world.

The world is the stop.

The stop is the world.

The world is the move.

The move is the world.

The world is the sound.

The sound is the world.

The world is the silence.

The silence is the world.

The world is the light.

The light is the world.

The world is the dark.

The dark is the world.

The world is the love.

The love is the world.

The world is the hate.

The hate is the world.

The world is the pain.

The pain is the world.

The world is the joy.

The joy is the world.

The world is the fear.

The fear is the world.

The world is the hope.

The hope is the world.

The world is the despair.

The despair is the world.

The world is the faith.

The faith is the world.

The world is the doubt.

The doubt is the world.

The world is the truth.

The truth is the world.

The world is the lie.

The lie is the world.

The world is the fact.

The fact is the world.

The world is the fiction.

The fiction is the world.

The world is the reality.

The reality is the world.

The world is the dream.

The dream is the world.

The world is the waking.

The waking is the world.

The world is the sleeping.

The sleeping is the world.

The world is the living.

The living is the world.

The world is the dying.

The dying is the world.

The world is the being.

The being is the world.

The world is the nothing.

The nothing is the world.

The world is the something.

The something is the world.

The world is the everything.

The everything is the world.

The world is the one.

The one is the world.

The world is the many.

The many is the world.

The world is the self.

The self is the world.

The world is the other.

The other is the world.

The world is the same.

The same is the world.

The world is the different.

The different is the world.

The world is the here.

The here is the world.

The world is the there.

The there is the world.

The world is the now.

The now is the world.

The world is the then.

The then is the world.

The world is the when.

The when is the world.

The world is the where.

The where is the world.

The world is the why.

The why is the world.

The world is the how.

The how is the world.

The world is the what.

The what is the world.

The world is the who.

The who is the world.

The world is the which.

The which is the world.

The world is the that.

The that is the world.

The world is the this.

The this is the world.

The world is the it.

The it is the world.

The world is the he.

The he is the world.

The world is the she.

The she is the world.

The world is the they.

The they is the world.

The world is the we.

The we is the world.

The world is the you.

The you is the world.

The world is the I.

The I is the world.

The world is the A.

The A is the world.

The world is the B.

The B is the world.

The world is the C.

The C is the world.

The world is the D.

The D is the world.

The world is the E.

The E is the world.

The world is the F.

The F is the world.

The world is the G.

The G is the world.

The world is the H.

The H is the world.

The world is the I.

The I is the world.

The world is the J.

The J is the world.

The world is the K.

The K is the world.

The world is the L.

The L is the world.

The world is the M.

The M is the world.

The world is the N.

The N is the world.

The world is the O.

The O is the world.

The world is the P.

The P is the world.

The world is the Q.

The Q is the world.

The world is the R.

The R is the world.

The world is the S.

The S is the world.

The world is the T.

The T is the world.

The world is the U.

The U is the world.

The world is the V.

The V is the world.

The world is the W.

The W is the world.

The world is the X.

The X is the world.

The world is the Y.

The Y is the world.

The world is the Z.

The Z is the world.

The world is the end.

The end is the world.