فصل 13

Chapter 13

TEDROS

Pride and Princess

“You sure your girlfriend isn’t a crackpot?” Hort’s man-wolf growled, pacing in the dark forest.

Tedros ignored him as he tried to rock Merlin to sleep.

“Consider the evidence,” Hort went on. “First she says Robin Hood left her a message in magic dust at the Arrow. A message no one else saw. Then she says Merlin appeared to her and told her to come to Putsi. Both sound pretty crackpot to me.” Through the thicket, Tedros glimpsed the wizard tree in the distance, rising high over the land. Movement flickered in its branches, but they were too far away to see more. Putsi was a well-armed city: the shock of a wizard tree bursting out of the bank would bring the bank’s guards and the Empress’s flying minions. Tedros’ stomach knotted, the baby fussing with his shirt. He shouldn’t have let Agatha go off alone.

“You’re worrying if she’s wrong? I’m worried if she’s right,” the prince returned, so focused on the tree he didn’t notice Merlin squiggling out of his arms. “What if the answer was in Putsi all along?” “Then pray we find it before the Snake,” Hort said, rescuing Merlin into his paws before the baby slipped. “Whoever wins the first test gets a head start for the second. And if the Snake gets too far ahead . . .” Wind axed through the trees, finishing Hort’s thought. Tedros watched him cradle Merlin into his dark fur, the baby’s eyes starting to close. How could I be so stupid? Tedros thought. His dad wouldn’t have expected him to track down the wizard in his old age and lop off his beard. Especially after Arthur and Merlin had gone their separate ways. For all his father knew, Merlin would have been long dead. And yet, Tedros had done what he’d always done: made assumptions without thinking.

Agatha was right.

The beard was here in Putsi.

Only he’d come to this realization too late.

Which meant his first test was no longer up to him.

It was up to her.

Agatha, who was out there right now, fighting Tedros’ battle. All on her own.

And here Tedros was, twiddling his thumbs, just like he had at Camelot when Agatha usurped his quest the first time. Long before there was a King Rhian or King Japeth, there was a masked attacker, daring Tedros to come fight him. But it had been Agatha who answered the call instead of Tedros, the prince willing to stay behind.

The mistake that started it all.

But he’d learned from that, Tedros thought angrily. He was different now. He was ready to be a king. If only his princess would stay out of the way.

Tedros’ blood simmered, his father’s ring cold on his hand.

That’s what this tournament was supposed to be about, wasn’t it? Proving himself? Even Agatha had admitted that, back at the inn. So why was he still loitering here like a princess in waiting while she was off hunting the answer to his test?

He’d tried to stop her. On the short trip from Bloodbrook, Tedros had assumed they’d battle the Snake together. That they’d track down Merlin’s lost beard as a team. But just as they’d gotten to the forest’s edge, the wizard tree rising into view, Agatha ordered him and Hort to stay put.

“What? The Snake’s out there!” Tedros said, thrown.

“And if he kills you now and takes your ring, we’re all dead,” said Agatha, dismounting Hort’s wolf. “Keep Merlin safe. I’ll be back soon.” “Don’t be a fool,” Tedros scoffed, chasing her. “No way you’re going alone—” Agatha turned. “I won’t be alone.”

The way she said it.

So sharp and clear that by the time he’d regathered his wits, she was lost in the dark.

“I won’t be alone.”

I won’t be alone?

Then it hit him.

That cry.

The one that echoed as the wizard tree sprung over the land . . . The one that made Agatha’s eyes spark before she had taken control of their plans.

I won’t be alone.

The shine in her eyes.

That hint of a smile.

Agatha could only mean one person.

That’s why she’d driven Hort so hard on the ride here.

That’s why she’d left the prince and man-wolf behind.

Agatha was after more than Merlin’s beard.

Agatha was after her own grail.

Sophie.

Sophie, who she’d heard out there, crying for help.

Sophie, always the witch between him and his princess.

Tedros’ gut twisted tighter.

Where Sophie went, Evil followed.

He fished Tinkerbell out of his pocket and shook her until she woke up. “Follow Agatha and keep her safe. The moment she’s in trouble, send a flare. Understood?” Tinkerbell yawned and jingled back.

“No, I will not kiss you in exchange,” Tedros retorted.

Tink argued her case—

“I don’t care if Peter kissed you,” said the prince. “Go. Before I feed you to Hort.” Grumbling, the fairy flitted off to find Tedros’ princess.

And this is how he’d gotten here: pent-up and frustrated, saddled with a baby, while his princess went after her best friend. Again.

“Now you know how I felt with Sophie all those years,” a voice groused.

The prince looked up at Hort.

“Always second best,” the man-wolf sighed.

Tedros sucked in a breath.

Hort was right.

This was The Tale of Sophie and Agatha.

It always would be.

Until he had the courage to make it his story too.

Light flashed through the darkness, a flare of gold.

Tedros and Hort spun—

Flames bounded towards them.

For a second, Tedros thought they were under attack.

Then he saw the blaze had a face.

A fairy, wings afire.

“Tink?” he breathed.

Burning up, Tinkerbell choked out a single squeak.

A word that shook Tedros’ soul.

“Snake.”

The flare swallowed her.

She was gone.

HE WAS TOO poisoned by rage to have a plan.

Throttling towards the wizard tree, his boots skidding across the forest, Tedros thought only of his true love, out there against an enemy who burned fairies alive.

This was the clarity of Evil. Its humiliation of your weaknesses, its savaging of your mercies. Every time Tedros hesitated, the Snake was there to punish him. Japeth was more than a Nemesis. He was his shadow, like the Green Knight to King Arthur, a curse that had been with him all along and yet one he was fully unprepared for.

Hort had tried to come too, but Tedros had repelled him with orders to stay and protect Merlin. (He made no mention of Sophie; if the weasel knew she might be out there, he’d bring the baby into battle.) But without the man-wolf, Tedros had no weapon or shield against someone he still wasn’t sure how to kill. Stumbling over a stick, he kicked it into his fist, using his fingerglow to whittle it to a stake.

Soon he heard sounds of war: cries, human and animal; clashes of steel; the groans of a tree under siege. He sprinted out of the Woods, onto open land, the ruins of the bank covered in ghostly white leaves.

As Tedros drew nearer, he saw spatters of blood.

The corpses of geese.

Twelve, he counted.

Then the body of a bank guard, his limbs twisted, as if he’d fallen from a great height.

Closer and closer Tedros came to the tree, the silhouettes in its branches sharpening, two pearls of glow flickering at the top, pure gold and hot pink— He stopped short.

High in the wizard tree, Agatha and Sophie clung to branches, fending off a storm of scims, the girls’ fingerglows strobing in the night. From this far down, Tedros couldn’t see their faces or a sign of Japeth himself, but he heard their shouts—“Sophie, watch out!” “Behind you, Aggie!”—before they disappeared behind white leaves. Eels stabbed in and out of these leaves, Agatha’s and Sophie’s screams getting louder, prompting the prince to shove the wood stake into his pants and start climbing.

Only now did he see the war in his way.

Geese and guards swarmed branches, angling for the girls but were held off by a team of familiars: Willam . . . Bogden . . . Robin Hood? Plus a female, with brown hair, who looked like . . . Betty? They’d been playmates once upon a time. What was she doing here?

Questions could wait.

Right now, his friends needed him.

Tedros plunged into the fray, head-butting geese aside, before hurling himself at the first guard in his way. She lunged at him with a yell, slashing his shirt open, roping her legs around his throat and squeezing tight. Above, Bogden was in his own fight, pinned to a branch by two guards punching him as the stout first year thrashed. The guard girl crushed Tedros’ neck harder. He tried to suck in air, but it made him lose more. The girl bared her teeth as she strangled him, surely imagining the bounty the dead prince would fetch. Tedros had no move to make. Princes didn’t hit girls. Those were the rules. He weakened in her grip, choking on saliva, his mind fogging black— Tedros gritted his teeth.

Times change.

He jammed one foot into the girl’s face, then the other behind her ear and slammed her face against a branch. Dazed, she came at him again, but his boots were around her neck as he launched his body upwards, flipping her headfirst into Bogden’s attackers, who crashed backwards, the three guards plummeting out of the tree. Wheezing, Tedros grabbed Bogden like a buoy, the bloodied first year blinking at the prince, before his eyes focused past him: “Willam!” Tedros spun to the red-haired boy above, jerking against a branch as geese attacked.

“Don’t . . . love . . . geese . . . ,” Willam gagged, shielding his face.

Instantly Tedros was in full flight, bludgeoning geese with his fists, throwing them off Willam. Now the flock came for the prince, flogging him with wings and beaks, shearing through the last of his shirt, before Bogden leapt next to Tedros, clubbing them aside. Again Tedros tried to be Good; killing animals was a villain’s work. But these geese wouldn’t stop until he was dead, their beaks crisscrossing his chest with blood, getting closer and closer to his heart. He struggled to fend them off, blinded by feathers in his face, batting futilely with his wood stake. Through the flurry, he glimpsed more geese pummeling Willam, the boy starting to go limp. Next to him, a bird vised Bogden’s neck, about to spike its bill through his skull— “Help!” Bogden squeaked.

Tedros bared his teeth.

Chivalry was over.

He ripped through the wall of birds, flew up over Bogden’s goose, and with a primal snarl, stabbed through it with his stake, separating head from body. He whirled around, prepared to kill more, but the flock gawked at him, then fled into the night.

Willam lay crumpled against a branch, his face a mess of blood, wounds on his arms and legs.

Tedros held Willam’s skinny torso and put his head to the boy’s chest, tracking the weak pulse of his heart.

Bogden grabbed Tedros. “Is he . . .”

“Leave me,” Willam breathed. “Save Agatha.” Tedros gazed at the soft redheaded lad and thought of a boy just like him, once upon a time, clinging to life in a tree. Tedros hadn’t been able to save Tristan that day. Aric had made sure of it. But the Pen gives the best men second chances.

“Get him to the forest,” Tedros ordered Bogden. “Hort’s there. Tell him to ride you and Willam to school. The teachers will heal him.” Bogden stared at Tedros, then at the fleet of guards coming for the prince— “Now!” Tedros lashed.

Bogden flung Willam over his shoulder and hoisted him down the tree.

“Aggie, look out!” Sophie echoed above.

Tedros squinted high and watched Agatha fall from the top of the tree, landing hard into branches below and vanishing behind leaves. Immediately a cluster of scims swarmed where her body had fallen, their monstrous shrieks resounding.

“Aggie, you okay?” Sophie yelled.

As guards converged on him, Tedros waited for Agatha’s reply. Or a glint of her glow. Something to tell him she was alive.

It didn’t come.

Fire ripped through his heart, a Lion on the hunt.

Anyone in his way didn’t stand a chance, Tedros bashing guards aside or clasping hold of their shirts and knifing legs or hands with his stake to disarm them, before flinging them off the tree. He was lethally high above ground, climbing closer to where Agatha had fallen, when he glimpsed another squall of activity. Robin and Betty at war with a shadow balanced on a limb, gripping a gilded sword with two fists— Kei.

Bettina whipped at him with a long branch, trying to swipe him off the tree, while Robin grappled Kei from behind, straining for the captain’s sword. Betty caught sight of Tedros below. “Help me up!” Tedros whispered.

“No! We need you safe!” Betty hissed back.

“I need Agatha safe,” Tedros steeled, glaring at her like he did when they fought as children.

Bettina wavered under his stare . . . then surrendered her branch towards him.

Across the tree, Robin had Kei in a chokehold.

“Listen to me—” Kei wheezed, fighting Robin, but Hood stripped Kei of his sword and stalked towards him, gold blade pointed, Kei stumbling as he retreated.

“Agatha . . . It’s about Agatha . . . ,” Kei pressed.

Tedros vaulted off Betty’s bough, landed in front of Robin, and slammed Kei against bark. Before Kei could speak, Tedros’ hands were around his throat. “What about Agatha?” Tedros dug his fingers in harder— But something in Kei’s eyes stopped the prince. He’d seen it before. The night Tedros caught him burying Rhian. A look that said whatever side Kei had been fighting for, he was on his own side now.

“Agatha has the answer,” Kei panted. “I saw it in her hand. The pearl with the beard. Swallow it before Japeth gets it. That’s how you learn the second test.” Tedros was speechless.

“He’s a monster,” said Kei. “He always has been, since we were in school. He killed Rhian. My best friend. The real king. That’s why I burned the tracking map. That’s why I’ve been protecting you. I pretended to be loyal to that snake as long as I could. So I could avenge Rhian when I had the chance.” He glanced high into the tree. “Stabbed him before he could get the beard from Agatha. Before he could kill them. He escaped or I would have finished him off.” He turned to Tedros. “Go. Quickly. Find the pearl. I’ll help you figh—” A gold sword impaled him.

Kei didn’t make a sound. His face went the color of clouds. Then he keeled out of the tree, revealing Betty behind him . . .

. . . locked under the Snake’s arm.

Japeth’s eyes were cold. His torso gleamed with blood through his torn king’s suit, now morphing to black scims. One of his hands squeezed Tedros’ friend by her neck. The other carried Kei’s sword, greased with the captain’s blood.

The sword, Tedros realized.

Robin had it just moments ago.

Which meant . . .

Tedros swiveled—

Robin was hanging from the branch, his neck noosed by scims, his face purpling, seconds from death.

“Let’s play my favorite game,” Japeth said, gripping Betty. “You can only save one.” Tedros stiffened.

There was no time to think—

He ran for Robin, ripping the noose. Robin crashed down onto a lower bough, barely catching himself in time. But Tedros was already sprinting for Bettina, reaching out for her— Japeth held Betty close.

“Rules are rules,” he said.

He threw her off the tree.

“No!” Tedros yelled.

Bettina fell backwards, arms flailing, with a scream— Darkness swallowed her.

Tedros froze, midstride.

A friend dead, in the width of a moment.

Like the Sheriff and Lancelot and Dovey and more before her.

Another worthy soul he couldn’t save.

Slowly, Tedros looked up at the Snake, separated from him by the length of the branch.

“Now you know how it feels,” Japeth spoke. “Those you love taken from you.” “Says the brother killer,” the prince spat with rage.

“Rhian lied to me. He broke an oath,” Japeth replied evenly. “Where you see Evil, I see justice. You think you’re the hero of this tale. You think you’re the true king. But you are mistaken. Only I know the truth.” “The truth that you’re the liar? That you’re the fraud?” Tedros blasted. He could hear Robin below, struggling to regain breath. “You have Rhian’s blood, which showed my father as yours. Except you’re not my brother. You said it yourself.” “And yet the tournament is between us. Your father’s tournament,” the Snake replied, clear-eyed. “So who am I?” Tedros had no answer, still at a loss.

“Or maybe that isn’t the question,” said Japeth, taking him in. “Maybe we should be asking . . . who are you?” The words chilled Tedros’ bones.

He’d assumed his father wanted him on the throne.

That’s why his dad left him his ring.

Yet that dad had also given the Snake a chance. A monster. A murderer.

Why?

“Sophie?” Agatha’s voice called weakly.

“Where are you!” Sophie cried back.

Tedros’ focus flew upwards. Agatha. She had the pearl. He needed to get to her. Win the first test and he’d be on to the next.

Get to Agatha, he told himself.

And yet . . .

His eyes lowered to Japeth.

Kill the Snake now and there would be no more tests.

The Snake seemed to read his thoughts, his pupils glimmering in the dark. He fixed on Tedros’ ring.

“Maybe you are my brother,” he said. “Because you’re as much a fool as the last one.” Tedros stormed at him across the tree.

Japeth charged, scims curling off his suit— Robin launched up from below, landing in front of Tedros like a shield.

“Get to Agatha. Get the pearl,” he told the prince. “I’ll hold him off.” Tedros tried to push past Robin—

“Princess, not pride!” Hood snarled at him.

The words hit Tedros hard.

Robin was right.

If the Snake killed him, Agatha would be next.

Even his nemesis wasn’t worth that.

With a leap, he was already on to the next branch, leaving Hood behind. The prince glanced back—scims mobbing Robin as he rushed the Snake—before Tedros bit down and kept moving, telling himself that Robin Hood thrived in trees, that he’d find a way to survive. The Snake couldn’t kill another friend . . . not today . . .

Up and up into the wizard tree, the prince climbed, sounds of Robin and Japeth trailing away. He was alone now, no geese, no guards, no more enemies to fight. From this vantage point, he could see the specks of villagers, gathering outside houses, beholding the magic tree that had grown over their kingdom like Jack’s beanstalk. Putsi guards would be on the way soon, along with others loyal to “Rhian,” but Tedros was nearing the summit, his hands torn, his body suffering, yet propelled by the silent chant of a name: Agatha. Agatha. Agatha. Many a prince had scaled a tower to rescue his princess, but it was only fitting that his required a climb to the top of the world. And yet, despite all that was lost, there was a steadiness to him now, a harmony of will and fate, Man and Pen. It was Agatha who had left him behind, thinking she could save him. But in the end, he would save her. At last, he was leading this story. At last, he was the prince. He pulled himself up— Tedros stopped on a branch, eyes wide.

“Teddy?” a blond girl said softly.

Across the limb, Sophie clutched Agatha in her hands.

Tedros’ princess was strewn with leaves, her lungs pumping shallow breaths. Her face and arms were cut up. Her leg was broken badly, twisted at the knee. And yet, even in terrible pain, Agatha managed the happiest smile at the sight of her prince.

“You came,” she said.

“Says the girl who ordered me not to,” Tedros growled, lurching to her side. He snatched her from Sophie and clasped her to his chest, kissing her all over. “You’re hurt. This is what happens when you trust her over me. This is what happens when you fight my battles for me.” “And yet, she has the answer to your test,” said Sophie. “An answer I found. The two of us do just fine without you.” Tedros clenched his teeth. “Where is it?” Agatha reached into her dress. “Kei saved us. He rescued us from—” “I know,” Tedros said.

Agatha looked at him. The wounds on his chest. The bruises and marks on his face and throat.

“Where’s Robin?” asked Sophie. “Where’s Betty and Bogden and Willam?” “We need to get you to school,” Tedros pressed Agatha. “Yuba and the teachers can fix your leg. I’ll carry you down—” “There’s no time, Tedros. Leave me with Sophie,” Agatha argued. “You have to move on to the second test.” Tedros put his nose to hers. “I’m not leaving you here.” Agatha held up a glowing pearl. “This is what matters. Winning the race. Taking the Woods back. For Good.” Tedros studied the small frosted orb, Merlin’s beard a tight circle inside it.

“Swallow it, Tedros,” Agatha ordered. “Learn the next test.” “Whatever it is can wait ‘til you’re safe,” Tedros resisted.

“No, it can’t,” Sophie snapped. “Swallow now. Fight later.” She’s right, Tedros admitted, even if he had no intention of leaving his princess behind. He took a deep breath, focused on the pearl in Agatha’s hand. Then he reached his mouth for it— The branch shook hard from beneath.

In a split second, the pearl slipped from Agatha’s fingers, cascading off Tedros’ lips.

Startled, the prince, his princess, and Sophie watched Merlin’s beard tumble to the next bough and nestle in a canopy of leaves.

The tree continued to rattle beneath them, the pearl quivering precariously, branches bending below.

Someone was coming.

Tedros scanned the darkness with his glow.

“Robin?”

Through leaves, the outlines of a face appeared.

Agatha went rigid under Tedros’ arm. Next to him, Sophie stopped breathing.

Japeth loomed closer, slithering towards their branch.

His hands were covered with blood.

Robin’s blood, Tedros thought, going cold.

The prince darted a glance at the pearl, couched between leaves.

Japeth caught him looking.

He, too, honed in on the glass orb.

Silence hung between the prince and the Snake.

Both leapt for it.

They smashed into each other, vaulting the pearl upwards. Scims shot off Japeth’s suit, about to claim it— Sophie snatched Merlin’s beard in her fist, her body balanced over a branch, before the branch broke and sent her crashing three limbs down. Instantly, eels spiked towards her, Japeth heading her way.

“Tedros! Swallow it!” she yelled, flinging the beard in the prince’s direction— Tedros lunged, losing the pearl in the glare of Sophie’s glow. It bounced off his skull, rebounding into the night sky.

Tedros, Japeth, and Sophie dove for it, each from a different direction, each with a chance— But one was faster than the rest, limbs coated in white leaves, falling through the night like a broken swan.

Agatha.

Her mouth open.

Tedros gasped—

She swallowed the pearl.

Agatha plunged into Tedros’ arms, the two plowing hard into tree bark. Sophie and the Snake snagged on branches above them.

For a moment, it was quiet.

All eyes flew to Agatha, crumpled with pain.

Winner of the first test.

Tedros’ test.

“Aggie?” Sophie rasped quietly. “What did you do?” Tedros and Agatha locked eyes, as if the tale had taken a turn both inevitable and unexpected.

Then Agatha choked, her neck convulsing, her cheeks coloring, something brewing inside her. She parted her lips and breathed a silvery dust that lifted into the dark, coalescing into the ghost of a familiar face.

King Arthur glared down at Agatha in the wizard tree.

“A twist in the tale . . .

Two vie for my crown.

But you are neither.

Are you friend?

Or are you enemy?

Both can bring down a king.

You have interfered in the quest

And so must die.

That is the second test.

Whoever slays you shall learn the third.” King Arthur vanished.

Agatha and Tedros whirled to each other— But now they were floating upwards, Sophie too, as stymph claws hooked under them, rescuing them high into the night, veering west on the command of Ravan, Vex, Mona, and more fourth years astride the bony birds.

Shell-shocked, Tedros looked back at Japeth in the tree, but Japeth hadn’t moved. Instead, he posed calmly against white leaves like a shadow, watching the prince recede into the clouds, the Snake gazing up at him with the darkest of smiles . . .

The next test already won before it started.them high into the night, veering west on the command of Ravan, Vex, Mona, and more fourth years astride the bony birds.

Shell-shocked, Tedros looked back at Japeth in the tree, but Japeth hadn’t moved. Instead, he posed calmly against white leaves like a shadow, watching the prince recede into the clouds, the Snake gazing up at him with the darkest of smiles . . .

The next test already won before it started.