HELLHOUND

V. Open the Cage...

open the cage...

"YOU KEEP staring off into space," a voice said, startlingly close to Artemis's ear. "What's up with that?"

It was a few minutes past five, meaning he had finally finished his lessons for the day, and most parents had already picked up their kids. All except-

"Kate," Artemis sighed. "We talked about personal space, no?"

Kate Bishop rolled her eyes but leaned back on the stool she was perched on, balancing on its back legs. "But I'm bored."

"You're always bored here." This was true; Kate never failed to let Artemis know how much she would rather be practicing archery than throwing pottery. He refrained from pointing out how, despite her boredom, she was always the first one seated for the lessons he taught, how she always sat in the front, ready with a snarky quip and an impish grin.

She huffed. "I know, but Mom says she's running late, so what am I supposed to do?" She shoved her phone in his face, a text from Mrs. Bishop on the small screen.

Artemis winced. He didn't mind Kate, but his pain had been acting up in spite of his medication lately, and he was very much looking forward to going to sleep early that night. But that all depended on how soon he could get to the store and get more food-for both him and Kotik. A glance out the studio window showed the already setting sun; at this rate, it would be dark by the time he got anything done.

"...Fine. You can sit there, or you can help me clean," Artemis told Kate eventually, realizing he would be in charge of the young girl until her mother arrived-Estelle had left early, asking him to close up shop for the day.

Kate rolled her eyes, and he half expected her to stay seated and play on her phone or something. Instead, she stood, grabbing the empty slip bucket off the center of the table and heading for the sink.

There was a brief silence, and before Artemis could have the mind to cherish it, he turned toward her. "Is everything okay?"

Kate did little more than glance his way, still washing out the bucket, her forearms splattered with off-white clay. "Yeah, why?"

He shrugged. "Your mother is one of the most punctual people I've ever met. Why's she running so late?"

Turning the sink off, Kate shifted from foot to foot. "It's my dad's birthday," she admitted eventually. "It's been a few years since he's passed, but Mom still gets weird about it every time."

Artemis froze, wincing. Estelle had off-handedly mentioned Kate's late father once; he was a nice enough man who had unfortunately passed in the Invasion of New York. "Sorry for your loss."

"It's fine," she said, turning off the sink. She returned to her original seat, placing the bucket back on the table. "I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to, though," he insisted, grabbing a rag and wiping down tables. "You should have time to remember him, not be here alone. Or at least to grieve in your own way."