فصل 17

Chapter 17

AGATHA

The Only Safe Place in the Woods

Two Tedroses jumped over the gatehouse wall, throttling for the Woods beyond the castle.

“Hurry!” the real Tedros panted, dragging his clone past the gatehouse, emptied of guards, who were still on the battlefield.

Tears streamed down Agatha’s cheeks as she hugged the Dean’s bag to her muscled flank, her thick thighs and broad shoulders hampering her run. Blood and welts streaked their bare chests, though her prince looked far worse. A strange déjà vu seeped into Agatha’s grief, as if she’d lived this scene before— All at once, the spell broke and she melted back into her own body, her tattered dress reappearing with a borrowed swan crest, her shoulders smaller, her legs more nimble.

But the crush of emotions was still the same.

“Dovey . . . ,” she choked. “Tedros . . . she’s . . . she’s . . .” “I know,” he said, his voice rigid. He pulled her into the Woods, past the first line of trees, raining waves of red and yellow leaves. She could hear his heavy grunts, every part of his body wrecked. The only solace was that they’d left Rhian in far worse shape. Brambles hooked onto her dress and Tedros’ breeches, their shoes slipping on heaps of dead autumn fronds.

Alarm bells pealed from Camelot’s belfry, followed by a stampede of hooves.

“Run faster!” Tedros barked, his cheeks blotched red.

Agatha knew his anger wasn’t for her. His anger was pain. His anger was guilt. The Snake had killed his best friend, his knight, and now his Dean, and Tedros had been powerless to stop him. He’d tried to save Dovey. Agatha had too. But Dovey hadn’t intended to be saved.

Even so, they hadn’t gotten away scot-free.

Japeth had seen the two Tedroses lunge for the Dean as she fell.

He’d known it was Agatha and her prince from the way they’d tried to save her . . . from the horror on their faces. . . .

Now the Snake and his men were coming for them.

“We can’t outrun horses,” Agatha fought, resisting Tedros’ pull. “We need to hide!” Hooves echoed over the drawbridge. They’d be here any second— Agatha saw a steep downslope to the east, blanketed in fallen leaves. She wrenched Tedros towards it, who gleaned her plan, dashing for the hill and yanking Agatha behind him. Light faded around them, the treetops blocking out the sun.

Chasing her prince in the dark, Agatha felt despair overwhelm her.

Professor Dovey was dead.

Her fairy godmother.

The Dean who’d known Agatha was Good before she herself ever did. The voice that had lifted her from the darkness when she had no hope.

Dovey had given her life to let them survive. To let them fix this story and find its real end.

Just like Agatha’s mother had, once upon a time.

All those she’d looked to as family: Callis, Professor Sader, Professor Dovey . . . One by one, they’d been felled by her story.

But not without purpose.

The thought hit Agatha like a wind to a sail, propelling her forward, even as the tears fell.

Dovey had sacrificed herself to save her students.

To save Camelot’s true king.

To save the Woods.

She’d known her body was weak, her time coming to an end. She’d known that Agatha would rise in her place. That her ward would never rest until the real Lion was returned to the throne.

Agatha’s tears burned to fire.

Professor Dovey had known her too well.

Horses crashed into the Woods, their legs trampling leaves with staccato crackles. Agatha glanced back at a cavalry of men wielding torches and swords— “There they are!” the King of Foxwood cried.

Horses veered in Agatha’s direction, their riders’ blades shining.

“Come on!” she gritted, surging ahead of Tedros and dragging him the way he’d dragged her, the hill ten yards ahead. Startled by her strength, Tedros tripped, losing his balance as the riders closed in, swords raised— Agatha grabbed him by the waist and threw him off the slope, Dovey’s bag cinched under her arm as she and her prince tumbled together, sucking in screams, before landing hard in a dune of dead leaves. Agatha hugged Tedros’ sweat-soaked body, towing him beneath the red and gold pile, their bloodied skin camouflaged— Horses soared over them, riders flashing torches like spotlights, before the steeds slammed down and galloped into the darkness.

The Woods went quiet.

For a long while, neither of them moved, their breaths puffing leaves into the air. Agatha clung to Tedros, her face in his neck, smelling that hot, minty scent her body knew so well. Wet blood dampened her arm and she couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. Slowly her breaths deepened, her nose to his skin, with every inhale remembering that she was still alive and so was her prince. Tedros’ arm slid around her. She spooned closer, her hand tracing his stubbled chin and down to the cuts on his neck where the executioner had measured his blow. His throat quivered beneath her palm, tears pearling at his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She kissed his bottom lip. “I love you too.”

There was nothing else to say. They were together now. And despite everything that had happened, to be together even for a moment was an ember of light in the ashes.

Then she remembered something, so sharply it knocked the air out of her— “Dovey told me where he is!”

“Who’s he?” Tedros murmured.

“Merlin! She told me when she pretended to be you!”

Tedros jolted up. “Where is he?”

“The Caves of Contempo! We have to find him!”

“Caves of Contempo? Agatha, that’s thousands of miles away! Past the frostplains, past the desert, past the man-eating hills. . . . It’s a walled-off island in a poisonous ocean. We can’t get to the caves, let alone inside them, and especially not with a million people hunting us!” Agatha’s hope withered. “But . . .”

A branch snapped.

Tedros launched out of the leaves, sweeping his gold fingerglow across the trees. “Who’s there?” Agatha leapt next to him, her glow lit.

A shadow stirred behind a tree.

“Make one move and I’ll kill you!” Agatha spat.

“Oh, I doubt that,” the shadow replied smoothly, prowling into the open. “Because we both know I’d kill you first.” A glow sparked in the dark, pink and hot as a sunset.

“And I really don’t want to kill you after we’ve come all this way,” said Sophie.

She grinned at Agatha.

Agatha gasped and ran towards her, Sophie practically buckling from the force of her embrace.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again . . . ,” Sophie breathed. “You don’t know what I’ve been through . . .” “Never again,” Agatha whispered. “Never again will we be apart. Swear to me.” “I swear,” Sophie said back.

They held each other closer, welling tears at the same time.

Sophie pulled away. “And Dovey?”

Agatha shook her head. A sob choked out of her.

Sophie’s face lost its blood. “To let you get away.”

Agatha nodded.

Her friend wiped her eyes with her ruffly white dress. “I knew. She was the only one who could have cast that spell. And when you three didn’t show up in the Woods, I knew she’d stayed to help you . . . that she’d do what she had to for you to be free. That’s why I came back . . . to find you . . . to find her. . . .” She looked at the bag on Agatha’s arm. “That crystal must have weakened her more than we thought. She was dying and I think she knew.” Sophie sniffled, tears lit pink by her glow. “She used every last drop of her life to save us.” “Dovey told me where Merlin is,” Agatha said, composing herself. “But there’s no way to get there. At least not yet. We need to find the others and search for a new hideout. Somewhere we can plot our next move. Last I saw, Robin was pulling you into the Woods. Where is he? Where are Robin and Guinevere and—” But now Sophie was watching Tedros. The prince hadn’t moved from the base of the hill, his arms folded over his bare chest.

“Hello, Teddy,” said Sophie. “Strange saying that when just a moment ago I was you.” Tedros’ eyes flashed like cut gems. “Now you come crawling back? After everything you said about me to that monster? That I’m a rot at Camelot’s core? That I should die?” Sophie’s lips pressed into a line. “I’m here, aren’t I?” “Yeah, but whose side are you on?” Tedros spewed back.

Agatha turned on her prince. “Sophie pretended to be on Rhian’s side. She said what she had to so he wouldn’t suspect anything—” “Don’t bother, Aggie,” Sophie said starkly. “A Dean is dead, his Dean, and he’s thinking about himself as usual. And they say I’m Evil. I dove into that battle to save him. I stayed behind after the jailbreak to save him. I endured two monsters to save him, one of whom sucked my blood, and here he is, questioning my loyalty.” “You don’t think I mourn for Dovey? You don’t think I feel responsible? Don’t you dare make this about her!” Tedros retorted. “This is about the fact that no matter how Good you play, I still don’t trust you, not with the things you said about me and not when you had a chance to free me from the dungeons and you freed Hort instead!” “Freeing you would have led to you dying even faster than you almost did, you rock-brained oaf!” Sophie hissed.

Tedros looked confused. He stood up straighter.

“Then tell me it was all a lie,” he insisted. “Everything you said about me to Rhian.” Sophie gazed at him keenly . . . then walked away. “I don’t even remember what I said, to be honest. I was too focused on keeping you and your princess alive. But if you’re this touchy, then there must have been a kernel of truth in it. Hurry, Aggie, before Rhian’s men hear this buffoon shouting and come and kill us all. We still have miles to go and they’re waiting for us.” “They?” Agatha asked. “Who’s they?”

Sophie didn’t answer.

Agatha hurried after her, leaving Tedros by the hill, still scowling.

She knew she should wait for him, that she should be the peacemaker between her friend and prince like always, but Agatha was already latching onto Sophie’s arm, the two of them whispering and cuddling as if they’d never been apart. Sophie brushed the hair out of her best friend’s face and smiled brilliantly at her, two girls forging through a dark wood.

It wasn’t long before they heard Tedros’ footsteps behind them.

“WHERE ARE WE going?” Agatha badgered.

“The only place in the Woods where we can be safe,” Sophie replied, her voice low. “I need you to tell me everything that happened after you escaped.” Agatha thought they might be headed for the old League of Thirteen hideout, just like Professor Dovey urged, but then she remembered the League had disbanded and their den was nowhere near Camelot. Dovey had just wanted her and Tedros to get as far away as possible before the spell broke.

“Is your safe place the school?” Agatha nudged. “Because that’s the first spot Rhian will look for us—” “No,” said Sophie tersely. “Now answer my question.”

“Let me see your Quest Map. It’ll show me where everyone is.” “No, it won’t,” said Sophie, pointing at the swan crest on Agatha’s dress. “Not as long as it thinks you and the others are first years. When Robin and I escaped together, he told me you switched crests to fool the Snake’s map.” “But his map will still show you and Tedros! You two don’t have crests! That means Rhian can still see you! He can find us, wherever you’re taking us! There is no safe place in the Woods—” “Aggie, do you trust me?” Sophie said.

“Of course—”

“Then stop changing the subject. Have you learned anything new about Rhian and Japeth?” Agatha’s chest tightened. She needed to know what had happened to Robin, the Sheriff, and the rest of their team. She needed to know how she could possibly elude Rhian, with his map tracking her and Tedros’ every move. . . .

But Sophie’s stare was unyielding.

Agatha took a deep breath.

She told Sophie what she’d read in Sader’s book while Sophie told her what she’d endured at Rhian’s side, Agatha peeking back every so often at her prince. They moved stealthily, three silhouettes against the forest, taking cover at any sound of horses, but never seeing them appear. Agatha’s gut gnarled with hunger and she needed water, but Sophie distracted her with more questions.

“So you’re telling me that if a hundred rulers destroy their rings, Rhian will claim the Storian’s powers,” Sophie prompted. “Lionsmane will become the new Storian. Anything Rhian writes with it will come true, no matter how Evil. He can kill me with a penstroke. He can kill all of us. He’ll be invincible.” “That’s what Sader’s prophecy says,” Agatha replied.

“But plenty of leaders still have their rings,” said Sophie. “They challenged Rhian at the Council meeting. Not everyone is ready to declare war on the school.” “After what we just did on the battlefield, that may change,” Agatha muttered.

“Wait a second . . . Robin had a ring!” Sophie exclaimed. “At the meeting. He flashed it at me. That means we’re safe. He’d never burn it!” “Must have been a fake or you saw wrong. Sherwood Forest isn’t an official kingdom,” Agatha dismissed. “First-year geography test in Sader’s class, remember? Robin can’t have a ring.” “But I swear I . . .” Sophie deflated, doubting her memory. “So there’s no one we can count on? No leader who will hold the line?” Agatha gave her an empty look.

“How badly was Rhian beaten by his men?” Sophie asked, trying to sound hopeful. “There were a lot of them. Maybe he’s . . .” “Snakes don’t die that easy,” said Agatha. “Speaking of snakes: you said Japeth used you for your blood. Your blood heals him, but not Rhian?” Sophie shook her head.

“But they’re twins,” said Agatha. “How can you heal one and not the other?” “The more important question is what they’ll do with the Storian’s powers if they get them,” said Sophie. “I heard Rhian say there’s something specific Japeth wants. Something they both want. And it can only happen when the last ring is destroyed.” Her eyes widened. “Wait. Rhian said something to me. The night I had dinner with him. That the day would come when the One True King would rule forever. That it would come sooner than I thought. That our wedding would bring everyone together.” “Your wedding?” said Agatha.

“He said it to the Mistral Sisters too. That they had to keep the kingdoms on his side until the wedding.” Sophie paused. “So I must be part of this also. Whatever Rhian’s planning to do with the Storian’s powers . . . He needs me as his queen.” Agatha mulled this over. “And he said a ‘pen’ picked you?” Sophie nodded. “Doesn’t make the slightest sense.”

“More riddles,” Agatha agreed. “But if Rhian needs you for his plan, one thing’s for sure.” She looked at her best friend. “He’s coming for you.” Sophie paled.

They didn’t speak for a moment.

“No Dovey. No Lesso. No way to Merlin . . . ,” said Agatha finally, almost to herself. “We need help, Sophie.” “Almost there,” said Sophie vaguely.

Agatha peered at her. “You smell funny. Like you rolled around in dirt.” If Agatha expected a retort, it didn’t come. Instead Sophie just sighed.

Agatha glanced back at Tedros, head bowed, listening to everything the girls had endured while he was in prison. Without a shirt, he trembled as a cold gust knifed through, his pained breaths thinning. . . .

An arm draped across his bruised back and he looked up as Agatha pulled him into her warmth. Then Sophie flanked Tedros from the other side, cozying him into her dress.

Tedros didn’t resist, as if what he’d heard of their travails had humbled him.

Little by little, his body stopped shivering as the two girls sheltered him the rest of the way.

“The Storian has to survive. The Woods have to survive,” Tedros said finally. “And the only way it’ll survive is if I take back my throne. Rhian won’t rest until every last ring is destroyed. I have to stop him myself. I have to defeat him once and for all.” “Tedros, you can barely walk,” said Agatha. “You have no sword, no support in the Woods, and no way to get near Rhian without his brother or his men killing you first. You don’t even have a shirt. Right now, we need a place to hide—” “And here we are,” said Sophie, stopping suddenly.

She stood over a tree stump swarming with fireflies, blinking orange in the dark.

“This is it,” she said, relieved. “Only place in the Woods we’ll be safe.” Agatha peered at the stump. “Um.”

Horses thundered somewhere nearby, this time layered with voices.

“You’re joking, I hope,” said Tedros. “This was the old Gnomeland station for the Flowerground, when gnomes still had their home in Camelot. They disappeared after my father banished magic from the kingdom. Trains don’t even run here anymore—” He scrunched up his nose.

Agatha smelled it too: a familiar smoky scent, like the earthiest tea. Before she could place it, something peeped out of the stump, lit by the fireflies, staring right at her.

A turnip.

Or rather an upside-down turnip, with two blinking eyes and a mouth shaped like an O.

“Did you say gnomes?” asked the turnip. “No gnomes here. That would be illegal. No gnomes allowed in Camelot. But vegetables? Vegetables are definitely allowed. So kindly go on your way and—” “Teapea,” said Sophie.

The turnip’s eyes darted to her. “Excuse me?”

“Teapea,” she repeated.

“Well, then,” said the turnip, clearing his throat.

He ducked out of sight and the top of the stump opened like a lid, revealing a wide hole.

The sound of horses grew louder.

“Follow me,” said Sophie.

She put one foot on the edge of the stump and leapt inside.

Agatha looked back through the trees: a sea of torches rushed towards her atop sprinting stallions. Tedros was already lunging for the stump, pulling his princess in behind him— Agatha careened headfirst through darkness and the top of the stump snapped shut above her. Clinging to her prince’s hand, she plummeted until she couldn’t hold him any longer and they ripped apart, twisting in free fall like sands through an hourglass. Then Agatha’s foot snagged onto something and her pace slowed, her body floating like she’d lost gravity.

Tedros’ gold glow illuminated, lighting up his own floating form. Agatha sparked her glow and cast it around them.

A lush green vine was caught around Tedros’ waist like a lasso, another around Agatha’s foot, drifting the prince and princess down through an abandoned Flowerground station, the carcasses of dead trains piled against the walls. Flowercars, once brilliant with the color of their respective lines, had rotted brown, molting petals and leaves into the hollow. A decayed stench stung Agatha’s nostrils, cobwebs stringing onto her ears and legs. The vines around her and Tedros seemed like the only things still alive. An old, faded sign lay broken in the wreckage: The vines towing Agatha and Tedros lit up with luminous glow, their green surfaces crackling with electric current, before they tightened around the prince and princess like safety belts. . . .

And started dropping them faster.

Agatha squinted down for Sophie, but all she saw was the bottom of the pit rising. The vines unraveled like anchors, spinning the prince and princess towards hard, dark soil. Before Agatha or Tedros could react, the vines let go entirely.

“Tedros!” Agatha screamed.

“Ahhhhhh!” Tedros yelled.

They crashed into the earth, straight through to the other side, where they landed in the back of a rickshaw cart, Agatha in Tedros’ lap, Sophie scrunched beside them.

“Now you know why I smell like dirt,” Sophie said.

“This the rest of ‘em?” piped a sprightly voice.

Agatha and Tedros looked up at a young gnome perched on a bicycle attached to the bright orange rickshaw, his eyes on Sophie. He had dark, ruddy skin, a sparkly, cone-shaped blue hat, and a spiffy matching suit.

“Thought ya said there’d be three more comin’,” said the gnome.

Sophie swallowed. “No. This is it.”

“Good. Can’t keep the king waiting!” the gnome said, reaching back and handing Sophie a fold of fabric. “Kindly fasten your snakeskin.” Sophie unfurled a blanket of transparent scales and draped it over her and her friends’ heads. Its cold, waxy surface crinkled against Agatha’s cheeks and the bag on her arm.

“That’ll keep you invisible till we get to the king’s palace. Can’t have anyone seein’ ya on the way or you’re dead, dead, dead,” said the gnome, pedaling onto a lone track in the dark, which reminded Agatha of the roller coaster at the Gavaldon fair. “Non-gnomes are banned in Gnomeland, ever since King Arthur expelled us. Any gnome catches ya and they have full right to put a knife through your eye. A squirrel wandered in the other day and got barbecued for Friday Feast.” Sophie yanked more of the snakeskin to her side.

“King Teapea sent me to fetch ya,” the gnome prattled. “Teapea letting humans hide in Gnomeland?” He whistled skeptically. “Either he wants somethin’ from ya or he’ll kill ya to warn any other non-gnomes who get too close. Don’t think ya have anything to worry about, though. It’s not like you’re King Arthur’s family or anything.” Agatha’s and Sophie’s eyes shot to Tedros.

Tedros slid deeper under the snakeskin.

“To be honest, I didn’t even know the king was home,” the gnome rambled obliviously. “Comes and goes without warning, often for months at a time. But then I get word from the palace that there’s humans roaming near the stump, lookin’ for a hiding place, and I’m to bring them to him.” He pedaled faster, approaching a steep drop— “Met the blond one before when I found her with the Sheriff’s group. Then she went back to look for you two,” he said to Agatha and Tedros, gesturing at Sophie. “Meanwhile, I took the Sheriff’s group to the palace. Sheriff crammed all his friends in that enchanted sack of his. Stuffed it in the back seat and none of the gnomes had a clue. You three, on the other hand, stick out like a hog in a henhouse, so keep your arms and legs in. This thing ain’t meant for humans!” He hurtled down the dip, sending the snakeskin flying before Agatha and Sophie grabbed it down. The gnome tore around a curve, knocking Agatha aside and whacking Dovey’s ball into Tedros, who almost fell out of the cart.

The gnome glanced at his passengers. “Should have introduced myself. I’m Subramanyam, page boy of Crown Royal Regis Teapea, king commander of Gnomeland. Well, not always page boy.” In a puff of dust, he morphed into a girl gnome. “Get to choose if I’ll be a boy or a girl forever on my thirteenth birthday. I’m thinking I want to be a boy, because most of my friends are choosing to be girls, so. . . .” He turned into a boy and grinned at his passengers. “Bet you’re jealous we gnomes can do that.” “Not really,” said Sophie, Agatha, and Tedros at once.

“Just call me Subby,” said Subramanyam, turning around and pedaling hard. “Don’t worry: whoever’s chasin’ ya can’t track you here, no matter what kinda magic they got. Can’t find a kingdom if ya don’t know it exists! Best view in Gnomeland is coming up on the right. It’s rush hour, though—stay under that skin!” Agatha looked over the side of the cart and clutched Tedros’ leg in surprise.

A colossal, swirling course of tracks funneled miles down into the depths of the earth, with hundreds of bright orange rickshaws and bicycles speeding through various dips and climbs, shuttling gnomes who honked their horns loudly, the horns mimicking cat meows. In the center of this meowing, madcap highway lay Gnome City: a massive neon metropolis held together by luminescent green vines, which not only strung all the gnome-sized buildings and cottages and towers in a giant pulley-system, but also seemed to power them like electric circuits.

Subby streaked into the traffic jam, veering up onto the edges of the track to bypass bicyclists and rickshaws piled with gnomes, angry meows blasting at him from every direction. Spiraling down through downtown Gnome City, they passed restaurants (Petite Pete’s Puny Eats, The Elvish Maiden, Num Num Gnome), shops (Gnome Garden Grocery, Teeny Tots Daycare, The Beard Brothers’ Barbershop), as well as the Slight & Mighty Gym, Smallview General Hospital, and the Fun Puddle, a pint-sized waterpark with slides so steep that a baby gnome rocketed off one, bounced onto the highway, ricocheted off their rickshaw, and landed in the lap of the driver next to them.

Every dwelling and edifice flashed the same sign—NON-GNOMES WILL BE KILLED—along with an icon painted in the corner, the official emblem of Gnomeland: This same pawprint dominated the marquee of the Musée de Gnome, hosting the exhibition “The Golden Age of Teapea” with a long line of gnomes hanging off its vine, waiting to get in. Meanwhile, at the Temple of Teapea, pious gnomes raised their hands as a priestess gnome stamped their foreheads with a gold-dust paw. Signs pointed off vines to “Teapea Way,” “Teapea Court,” “Teapea Drive,” “Teapea Park,” and everywhere Agatha looked, gnomes greeted each other with smiles, raising their hands like paws, chiming “Blessed Be Teapea!” Sophie whispered: “Whoever this Teapea is, he’s a dictator.” “Says the girl who redecorated the School for Evil with murals of herself,” Agatha replied.

Sophie pretended not to hear.

Down below, the king’s palace came into view, shimmering bright blue against its vines like a fluorescent fortress, flanked at each corner by candlelit minarets. Gnome guards with sparkly blue hats like Subby’s were perched on floating lily pads outside the royal gates, wielding scimitars bigger than their own heads.

But now the rickshaw was passing more wonders: a schoolhouse filled with itty-bitty gnomes learning the ancient history of Gnomeland . . . an open-air theater playing a matinee of If I’d Only Gnome! . . . a putt-putt course extending vertically down a vine, with golfing gnomes in gravity boots anchored to the greens . . . and the headquarters of the Small Print News, printing their latest edition: “FATIMA WINS GNOMELAND SPELLING BEE! WINNING WORD: ‘BOUILLABAISE’!” Agatha was so entranced that she’d forgotten everything they’d left behind.

“Totally in their own world,” Tedros murmured. “Like they have no clue what’s happening above ground.” “We don’t,” Subby chipped in. “After Arthur banished us, King Teapea said it was a blessing and made us build an underground colony. Some uppity gnomes stayed behind on land—hear one’s even a teacher at that famous school—but the rest of us stuck with Teapea and cut ourselves off from all that happens up there. Not to be rude, but you humans think the Woods revolves around you. You divide up your land, create false borders, only to start fights, and before ya know it, you’re declaring war on your own friends and brothers. Joke’s on you, though. Not a single gnome has been bothered to use the Human World Observatory in the Musée de Gnome and see what’s goin’ on up in your Woods. Had to close the exhibit ‘cause we couldn’t care less. Imagine that. Gnomes who used to be your best allies, no longer the slightest bit interested in whether you live or die. And now that you know the secret of where we moved, not sure Teapea will let ya leave alive.” Subby giggled. “Ah, here we are. . . .” The royal gnome guards glared at Subby, scimitars gleaming, their eyes roving across Agatha and her friends, clearly seeing them beneath the snakeskin. They waved in the rickshaw and Subby pedaled onto a gold-paved track, approaching the blue-lit palace, the only structure in Gnomeland big enough to fit a full-sized human.

Nerves fluttered through Agatha’s stomach, a reminder that she wasn’t here as a tourist. Above ground, the whole Woods was hunting her and her friends. Now she was depending on a strange king’s mercy to keep them safe. A king who despised her entire kind.

Two guards held open the palace doors as Subby wheeled inside. “You can take off your snakeskin,” he said, coming to a stop.

Sophie was already fumbling from under the covering and ogling the opulent foyer, lined with blue-stone arches. Agatha climbed out of the rickshaw and inspected the stone closer, as thin drips of molten lava crisscrossed its surface, the lava switching directions at will, occasionally erupting in detonations of red smoke. Beneath her feet, blue stone sparkled with red glitterdust, rippling in paw patterns across the floor like constellations in a night sky.

Three lily pads floated from around a corner, topped with tall glasses of golden-rose milk and coconut cookies, which Agatha, Tedros, and Sophie devoured, the tangy drink mixing in their mouths with sweet coconut crumbles, before the milk and cookies magically replenished. Three more lily pads arrived with hot, peppermint-scented towels, which they used to wipe the dirt off their faces, along with a last lily pad toting a fresh shirt for Tedros.

“If this is our hideout, I don’t see the need to go back above ground,” Sophie quipped.

“Happy to leave you while this ‘rot’ returns to win his throne,” said Tedros, putting on the shirt.

“The ‘rot’ can’t win anything without my help, so the ‘rot’ should kiss my feet,” said Sophie.

“Kissed you once and it was terrible,” said Tedros.

That shut Sophie up.

“You two deserve each other,” said Agatha.

That shut Tedros up too.

Subby’s voice echoed: “This is where I leave ya.”

All three turned to see the young gnome posed in front of a door at the end of the hall. He opened it, revealing a blue waterfall cascading over the threshold like a curtain, the water flowing up once it hit bottom, before raining down again.

“Go on, then,” said Subby, nodding at the waterfall. “Kept the king waiting long enough.” Sophie humphed, as if she had no intention of getting wet, but Agatha was hugging Dovey’s bag tighter and moving towards the door, her prince at her side.

“Think he’ll help us? King Teapea?” Agatha asked Tedros, pausing at the waterfall.

Tedros’ face clouded with doubt, no longer the boy who thought he could win this alone. “He has to.” They held hands and looked back at Subby.

“Good luck to ya,” the gnome winked.

Agatha and Tedros leapt into the water and came out the other side, with Sophie bounding in after them, dress soaked, hair ragged, splashing her glass of milk: “Eeeee, I’m wet! I’m wet! I’m . . . wait a second . . .” She gawked at Agatha and Tedros, completely dry. Then she followed her friends’ eyes.

A throne room made of velvet sprawled before them, with the walls, the floor, the ceiling blanketed in the same soft, midnight-blue fabric. The velvet on the walls was separated into panels, the columns between panels filled with glowing fireflies, which marched up and down in strict order like sentinels. A gold throne, big enough for a giant, lay at the front of the room, spotlit by a chandelier forged out of more fireflies, the words “C. R. R. TEAPEA” carved into the throne’s head.

On the floor in front of the throne sat a full audience, their attention craned towards the three intruders.

Agatha exhaled.

Everyone was here: Hester, Anadil, Dot, Hort, Nicola, Robin, Guinevere, the Sheriff, and more . . . all her friends, who’d escaped from the battle at Camelot, now safe in Gnomeland. . . .

But not just them.

Those she’d left at school had also somehow made it to Teapea’s palace: Professor Anemone, Professor Manley, Professor Sheeks, Princess Uma, Yuba, Castor, and all the first-year Evers and Nevers, quietly packed in on the floor.

They looked at Agatha, Sophie, and Tedros expectantly, then at the door, waiting for the Dean of Good to come through.

Then they saw Agatha’s face.

And they knew.

“Wherever Dovey is, she’s in peace now,” Robin Hood said to Agatha. “She would have been proud of you.” Agatha met his eyes, holding down her grief.

But now her friends and teachers were on top of her, wrapping her in their arms, one after the other.

“I prayed you were still alive,” Hester said breathlessly, unable to mask her emotion. “Dovey must have heard my wish. A fairy godmother until the end.” “We love you, Agatha,” Kiko gushed.

“Even me, who doesn’t really like you,” said Hort.

Nicola shunted him aside, joining the hug. “We’d still be in the dungeons if it wasn’t for you.” “It wasn’t just me,” said Agatha sheepishly. “All of us played a part.” She glanced at Tedros and Sophie, who were being smothered with their own hugs (Sophie was taking her time with the handsome Everboys).

Soon the buzz settled and everyone drifted to their seats again, huddled close, like a big, unlikely family. Even Agatha managed to feel some relief. They were together now. All of them. There was no one left to save.

But soon the seeds of fear bloomed once more.

Sophie was sitting next to Robin: “I could have sworn you had a ring at the meeting. Only now you’re not wearing one.” “Wasn’t my ring to wear,” Robin piped.

Sophie frowned. “But—”

Agatha squished between them. “What do we do now, Robin? The whole Woods is hunting us. How do we fight back?” “That’s why we’re here,” said the Sheriff of Nottingham, seated behind.

“To ask King Teapea for help,” said Guinevere, with the Sheriff.

“Wait a second. How did you and Robin get to Camelot in the first place? How did you have your sack?” Tedros asked the Sheriff as he sat with his mother. “That sack was destroyed! The Snake ripped it to shreds after he escaped the Sheriff’s jail—” “Can’t destroy a magic sack,” the Sheriff grouched, holding up the stitched-up bag. “Snake made the mistake of leaving the pieces of it behind. And Dot’s mother is the best tailor in the Woods.” “My mother?” Dot called, poking her head from the back like a mole. “My mother died when I was a baby!” Robin gave the Sheriff a look. “’Course she did!” the Sheriff called back.

Dot frowned. “Then how could she stitch up the—”

The Sheriff barreled on: “Sack divides friends from foes, so I used it to catch pirates and keep them trapped while getting our crew from place to place. Well, until those fairies let the pirates free during the battle. Must have smelled ‘em in there.” “Given how you smell, surprised they didn’t set you free with ‘em,” Robin quipped.

“Hold on.” Agatha frowned at Robin. “You told me that you and the Merry Men wouldn’t help me. And you and the Sheriff hate each other. How did you get here?” “Tedros’ mum has the answer to that,” said Robin.

“Actually, Sophie does,” said Guinevere.

“I do?” Sophie said, wringing out her hair into her empty milk glass.

“That night, when you had dinner with Rhian, you kicked me under the table,” the old queen explained. “You said Tedros was on his own. That you weren’t Tedros’ mother. You were challenging me. Right there in front of that monster. You pushed me to keep fighting, even if it seemed impossible. Yet I had no way to send word out of Camelot, not with that scim on my face. But outside the queen’s chamber is a tree with songbirds that I used to feed every day. In return, they acted as my little spies, singing louder whenever it was safe for me to sneak out and see Lance in the Woods. So after dinner, I slipped back into my old chamber, pretending to clean it, and there they were, my songbirds, singing outside the window like always. But when they saw me, with that disgusting eel on my face, their songs stopped. Their sad eyes asked how they could help. So while I cleaned, I hummed a song . . . a song every bird knows. . . .” She hummed and Robin crooned along:

“Oh help us, Robin,

Dear dashing Robin,

Come save us Robin Hood!

Hear our song, the son of Good,

All the way through the Green Wood!”

“Hate that song,” the Sheriff snarled.

“That’s ‘cause the only song people sing about you is ‘Sheriff, Sheriff, Farty Sheriff,’” said Robin. “When the birds came singing of Gwen’s ills, I told my Merry Men, but those lazy louts wouldn’t ride for Agatha and they wouldn’t ride for Gwen either, even though Arthur and I were mates. But then Sheriff, of all people, sends word he’s riding to Camelot to save his daughter from the dungeons and begs me to help him.” “Bollocks,” the Sheriff scorned. “I didn’t beg you for anything. I said you’re a pink-bellied chicken for letting the girl who saved you from jail rot in a cell and I hope the Storian would reopen our tale and tell the world what kind of man you really are.” “Sounds vaguely familiar,” said Robin. “Anyway, then Marian piles on and asks what I’d do if it was my own daughter that Rhian had taken. And wasn’t Dot the closest I had to a daughter? Marian knows how to push my buttons.” “You and me both,” mumbled the Sheriff.

“Couldn’t go back to putterin’ away at the Arrow. Not after all that,” Robin sighed. “So I joined the Sheriff and rode for Camelot. Sent Gwen a lotus so she’d know we were comin’.” “Wore it in my hair to give myself hope,” sighed the old queen.

“Then while we’re on our way, we hear that Dot and some others escaped the dungeons,” said the Sheriff. “Even so, I wasn’t lettin’ this Rhian bastard win. Our Woods has a law and order and I ain’t restin’ until the pig’s head is on a spike.” “Which is why we’re all here now in King Teapea’s palace, praying he’ll help us,” Robin Hood finished.

“And if he doesn’t?” Agatha asked—

A trumpet blared, making her jump.

A guard gnome in a sparkly blue hat and stiff jacket appeared out of the darkness behind the throne. “Greetings, human enemies! You are here at the invitation of Crown Royal Regis Teapea. Please stand in honor of the king!” Fireflies on the walls and chandelier beamed their orange glow at the throne.

Quickly Agatha and the rest of her friends rose to their feet.

“Listen to me,” she whispered to Robin. “The gnomes have a vengeance against King Arthur for banishing them, which means they’ll have a vengeance against—” “Me,” Tedros cut in, over their shoulders. “Agatha’s right! What if King Teapea knows who I am? What if he sees us as enemies? What if we came to the one ruler who wants me and my friends dead even more than Rhian?” “Then we’re dead either way,” said Robin grimly.

“In the meantime, stand in the back,” the Sheriff grunted at Tedros.

Agatha’s stomach lurched. The gold throne in front of her suddenly loomed larger. Here they were, preoccupied with their family reunion, when they’d willingly sealed themselves in a stranger’s palace. A stranger who surely hated Tedros enough to kill him on sight. Her unease about this place exploded into panic. This was an ambush. She could feel it. They needed to get out of here now— Before she could move, the gnome’s trumpet blared again: “Presenting the Honorable, Exorable, Crown Royal Regis . . . Teapea!” For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Agatha saw it.

A shadow slinking from the back of the room towards the throne, slowly, smoothly, like it was floating on air.

Agatha recoiled, doom impaling her heart.

The shadow drew closer . . . closer . . .

King Teapea came into the light, revealing himself.

Sophie dropped her milk.

Tedros toppled backwards.

All eyes in the room shot to Agatha.

She couldn’t breathe.

There was no way.

No possible way.

Because the leader of the gnomes, their sole chance for survival, their only hope for help in all these Woods, just happened to be . . .

Her cat.