In the car, on the way to town, Andrew kept silent. He did have a million questions, but he knew that he would have millions more after he had the journal. Those would be the questions that mattered.

In a very short time, his whole life had been turned around. No longer was he grieving. In fact, despite the sadness and ache that came with every thought of his father, there was also a twinge of betrayal along with excitement. The betrayal he knew was an unreasonable emotion, because after all, the responsibility of being a Custodian Knight was his father’s alone, and not relaying the information to Andrew was perhaps a protective measure. He was still a bit miffed that it had never even been hinted at, never mind mentioned.

He still couldn’t quite get the idea out of his head that he had been denied his heritage, denied his chance to know stuff that was secret and of all things, magical. Would he be able to use it? would he be able to shoot fireballs, or engulf a sword in flames while he cleaved foes from existence? It was all abstract right now, and certainly in the realm of fantasy, but what had he gotten himself into?

On the surface, it terrified him what he had done. But for better or worse, things were changing and he knew he was the catalyst. He was the agent of change. Why had the Fae inducted him into their order at this stage of his life? It made sense that they would want him to be older, more developed, more a man, but in a way, his father’s passing had made him realize there was much more to life than just playtime or fighting for his spot on the soccer team, or even homework and good grades. He was the man of the house, and now it seemed he was a direct descendant of Merlin. He was special, but without defining what that specialness was, it made it redundant.

It made him doubt himself and his worth. Perhaps dad had never told him stuff because he thought he was unworthy? No, he couldn’t doubt that. Dad was always going to give him the journal. He had to believe in that, believe in his dad, believe there was some greater good.

But.. What if the Journal doesn’t reveal any secrets? What if it was set to only reveal them when he turned eighteen.

“Andrew!”

His mothers raised voice startled him and he realized she had been speaking to him for some time, but he had been spiraling in his own mind, completely oblivious to everything from his mother’s voice to the changing scenery which seemed to pass in a blink, going from mundane suburbia to the hustle and bustle of a busy city. The noise to his heightened senses should have been more distracting, but somehow he had muted everything. Perhaps because he wasn’t holding the egg.

“Yes Mom, sorry, I was …”

“Yes, I know what you were doing. Now stop that. Let’s just see what the journal says and we go from there okay?”

Andrew nodded in response. A sheepish smile issued with a twitch of his lips.

She nodded sternly. “Keep it together my boy, just a little while longer, we are almost there.”

Jenny could see her son was overwhelmed. Whatever had happened to him the days before still had her worried. She didn’t know all the ins and outs of how the Fae bonded someone to the egg, but to find her son on the doorstep passed out and unresponsive had made her fiercely protective towards him. She was going through a tough time, but now Andrew had it even worse. She knew he hadn’t been doing well at school recently, and when they dropped him from the soccer team, he had acted like it didn’t matter, but she saw how it affected him, she saw how hurt he was. She also knew in a way, he was upset with Albert for leaving them. That damnable man, God bless his soul, but why did he have to leave her with all this additional burden?

It was bad enough that she hardly had any money available. The many items of Albert’s estate were all locked up pending the outcome of the executor and the will and the investigation by the insurance company. Legal formalities she was told. What utter bollocks. The sum to be paid out was considerable, in the hundreds of millions, so she understood to some degree their formalities. They had to protect their interests and paying out such a large sum would really burn them. She had been told, not unkindly, that she would need to wait a few years before everything was processed. She had told them, very unkindly, about how they expected her to survive on a nurses salary until that payout. Their lack of empathy was beyond her. She had even considered getting a lawyer involved, but that took money and if this was simply a formality, then she would get nowhere plus have lawyer fees. The banks had jumped at the chance to give her a loan, but she refused on principle. However her principles tasted less and less like sustenance and more and more like bitterness. At least the safety box was in her name, and so would be available for them today.

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The security guard smiled at Andrew as he walked through the metal detectors. The smile turned to a frown when it buzzed sharply. He searched Andrews pockets and found nothing metallic. “Young man, please go back and walk through again.” He was puzzled now, but insistent. It was his job after all.

After the third time, and each time the machine beeped even louder than before, then having searched Andrew thoroughly each time, including asking him to take off his shoes, he called for his supervisor.

Jenny was hovering around, worried for her son as the security officers converged to discuss the issue. Clearly they were at a loss, with one of them even looking at a box of surgical gloves on the shelf dubiously.

Andrew knew very well what those were for and was starting to get quite nervous. He didn’t have anything metallic on him, and certainly this machine was broken if it thought him a threat. Eventually the supervisor returned his shoes and gave his ID back to his mom.

“Sorry Ma’am,” he said, ignoring Andrew completely. “Our machine seems to be acting up, I have no idea what could be triggering the alert response, but we only installed the machine two days ago, so it could need some fine tuning is all. Please carry on, and have a nice day.”

“What does it detect officer?” piped up Andrew, surprised at the machines insistence that he had something it could detect.

“It detects radiation signatures and metallic composites. At least that’s what they told us. Did you swallow a nuclear device?” The supervisor security guard gave a chuckle when he said this and Andrew’s smile in return was genuine, despite his nerves.

“I’ve been drinking a lot of water, and I had egg for breakfast.” he volunteered. On the outside he was calm, but inside his stomach was twisting with nervous energy. Just a few days ago, Willow had mixed her blood in him. Was she like radioactive? It was just one drop, but even so, he hoped not, and now pretty sure it couldn’t be good for him if it was. Was that perhaps what the machine was detecting?

As Andrew and Jenny walked away from the front entrance to the inner sanctum where the Banking assistance desk nestled, they both breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Why did it beep at me Mom?”

Jenny placed her arm around Andrews shoulder protectively.

“Who knows honey? just like the man said, it's probably broken or needs fine tuning. Come on, this kind man will usher us upstairs to take the elevators down.”

“Hello Ma’am, how can I help you today?” The attendant behind the counter stood up to greet them.

“Hello, I’m Jenny Thatcher, I have an appointment to open my safety box.”

It turned out that to access the vault floor, you needed to go upstairs. Something which didn’t make sense to Andrew, but from a security perspective perhaps it made sense to the banks. They certainly spent a lot of money on security.

Andrew wondered when the last time anyone had robbed a bank was, and if all this expense was necessary. Anyhow, he was all wide eyed and open mouthed at all the doors and keycards and codes. One part of the elevator ride even required the man to look at an eye scanner.

Eventually they found their way into a long room, with both sides filled with small locked cupboards, similar to a mailbox room and a long table divided the room down the center. The table itself was segmented with cubicles to allow several people to examine their items from the safety boxes at the same time. The segmented parts along the table were additionally partitioned by a thick curtain, for further privacy. It felt like Andrew was visiting a jail. Everything clanked and clicked and purred in mechanical efficiency, adding to his wonder as well as giving him a kind of claustrophobic feeling.

Finally the assistant went to a box and inserted his key, looking at Jenny expectantly. She fished around in her bag and brought out her own key, which she placed in the corresponding lock at the other side of the safety box. The attendant then intoned, “Three, two, one.”

At one, both he and Jenny turned their respective keys and the box was unlocked with defining click. He used a special tool to drag the box out and placed it in one of the cubicles.

The assistant then asked. “Will 30 minutes be long enough Mrs Thatcher?”

“Plenty of time, thank you. If we finish earlier, I will ring the buzzer.” Jenny replied, seemingly familiar with the process.

“Very well. Until later then.” The assistant left and Jenny and Andrew were alone with the box. It remained unopened on the table. Andrew felt queasy. His nerves before were a fraction of what he was feeling now.

A pregnant pause had sprung up unbidden. After all that trouble to get here, they remained both locked in place, both equally unable, or perhaps unwilling to step towards the box and into the future, because whatever that box held, it meant change and change wasn’t always a good thing.