فصل 21

PART II

21

Peer Pressure

Sophie dreamt of the strange man again.

She was in the same pitch-black tunnel, her path barred by the towering gold ring.

Only this time something waited for her beyond the ring. It was Tedros, a king’s crown of silver and diamonds upon his head. Bathed in sunlight, he stood before a white-rose altar in a royal blue jacket, the spires of Camelot rising behind him. Between his hands shimmered a matching queen’s diadem, casting sun flares on his cheeks. The young king met Sophie’s eyes and smiled.

Sophie lost her breath, gazing at the crown in his hand.

This was it.

Her heart’s wish come true.

All she had to do was destroy the School Master’s ring.

Without thinking, Excalibur was suddenly in Sophie’s hands, the jeweled hilt warm against her clammy fingers. Lifting the blade over her shoulder, she crept towards the giant gold circle . . .

But as she drew closer, she saw a familiar reflection in its broad surface, blocking her from her prince. It was the dark, fiendish man she’d seen once before, with untamed hair, skin like rawhide, and a bulbous nose.

Sophie bared her teeth at him, undaunted. She hoisted Excalibur higher, poised to shatter the ring and the stranger inside it— But the man’s eyes stopped her cold: two onyx pools, dead and devil-like, as if daring her to strike.

Sophie’s hands weakened on the sword.

“W-w-who are you?” she whispered.

The stranger grinned cryptically.

Paralyzed, Sophie looked between Tedros and the devil man . . . between a queen’s crown and a gold ring . . .

Do it!

Do it now!

With a rousing cry, she raised the blade over the ring—

Two hands stabbed out and caught Sophie by the neck.

As she choked, the dark man smiled sadly from inside the ring, as if she’d given him no choice.

Then his eyes turned punishing and he ripped out her throat.

Agatha woke, gripped with terror, wheezing for air. Peeking down at her black-and-green uniform, it took her a few frantic breaths before she realized she was still alive and sopped in sweat on a hard, thin mattress. She looked up, but her surroundings were washed out by blinding red-orange light.

Camelot, Agatha panicked, shielding her eyes.

I’m in Camelot.

She squinted into the fiery glow—

A fat face shoved into it, splotched with rouge and emanating bacon breath.

“I ate your breakfast and there ain’t no more, so don’t bother asking,” Cinderella spat and trundled away.

Agatha jolted to her knees to see she was back at League Headquarters, the burnt-red glare coming from a sliver of sunrise through the cave hole. The muggy, dusty den was a hive of activity, with all thirteen League members packing up and stripping the cave bare, readying for a company move. On one side, Hansel and Gretel were magically storing furniture in Merlin’s hat, Peter Pan and Tinkerbell were stuffing a dozen satchels with snacks and tins of water, and Pinocchio and Red Riding Hood were scrubbing the last of the breakfast plates clean. On the other side, Yuba studied a spread of open storybooks, Princess Uma and the White Rabbit swept up scraps of black satin scattered on the floor, and Jack and Briar Rose pretended to be working while huddling over a notebook, finalizing their wedding guest list.

Amidst all this chaos, Hort lingered in front of the moth-eaten curtain shrouding the far cave wall. He was eerily still, biceps folded over his chest, as if standing guard over something. He met Agatha’s gaze for just a moment, then narrowed his eyes coolly and glanced away.

Meanwhile, near Cinderella’s mirror, Merlin was having an intense conversation with Tedros, who looked clean in taut white breeches and a cerulean shirt, the laces open down his smooth, bronzed chest, marred by a long scar near the heart. Agatha noticed Excalibur sheathed at the prince’s waist, while Sophie was nowhere to be seen.

“What’s going on?” said Agatha, approaching the prince.

Tedros turned, his stare brilliant and blank. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” Agatha gaped at him.

“I’m Tedros of Camelot, Heir to Arthur Pendragon, Guardian of Good, and Eligible Bachelor, seeking my future queen.” He extended his hand. “And you would be . . .” Agatha didn’t take his hand. “Bachelor?”

“You wanted a ‘New Beginning,’ remember,” Tedros joked, irritated she wasn’t playing along.

Agatha felt sick, the events of last night flooding back. Her prince had thought she was in on the lie to pretend to question their happy ending . . . when deep down, Agatha knew they should be questioning it. She didn’t want to be a queen. She wanted an ordinary life, away from the spotlight and people judging her and the pressures of having to look and act a certain way. That’s all she’d ever wanted since she was a child in Gavaldon, condemned by its people as a “witch” and a “freak.” Besides, who was she kidding? She couldn’t be queen of a potato sack, let alone King Arthur’s Camelot! Not without disappointing its people, who deserved a real queen who would restore the kingdom to glory. Not without disappointing its new king most of all.

“Right. Sure,” she said, stiff as a board. “New beginning.” Tedros saw her making eye contact with everything but him. “Look, Agatha. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I just have to pretend to give Sophie a chance. So on that note . . .” He bowed dramatically. “Lovely to meet you Agatha of Woods Beyond, Daughter of Callis, and Friend of Sophie. I look forward to seeing whether you’ll indeed make an acceptable queen.” He kissed her hand and winked.

Agatha yanked her hand away reflexively.

Tedros gave her an odd look.

“If you two are finished with your adolescent theatrics, can we get back to saving lives?” a voice snapped.

Agatha turned to see Merlin glaring blackly.

“Lovely. Now, Agatha, because of your quick thinking last night, you managed to hide your friends in the Celestium, from where I magically transported all of you to League Headquarters,” said the wizard. “You took quite a blow to your head in the process, so you were hardly coherent and desperately in need of rest. Indeed, you and Tedros had broken into Evil’s fortress and accomplished everything I’d asked: namely, to find Sophie and Excalibur and extricate them both safely. I know how dangerous both these missions were, but we had no choice. Since Sophie’s kiss brought the School Master back to life, only Sophie could undo that kiss by destroying his ring. But now that we are in possession of Sophie, the ring, and the sword, she could finally send him and his Dark Army to their graves, and the three of you would be on your way to Camelot, your storybook closed.” Merlin paused. “But I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans,” he said to Agatha. “As you fell asleep last night, you whispered that our League wasn’t safe—that ‘they knew where we were.’ I knew better than to question your babbling, given I’d witnessed the army of famous villains that chased you out of school. So we must move from our Headquarters immediately. The League will split up and hide throughout the Woods, while I escort you, Tedros, Sophie, and that surly, overmuscled Neverboy to a safe house where the four of you won’t be found.” “Hort? We’re taking Hort?” said Agatha, trying to keep up. “And why do we have to hide at all? If the School Master is dead, the League can all return safely to their kingdoms just like you said, and Sophie, Tedros, and I can—” She saw Merlin’s and Tedros’ faces.

“Change of plans.”

Agatha’s stomach dropped. “The School Master’s not dead?”

Tedros shook his head.

“Sophie still has the ring?” said Agatha.

Tedros nodded.

“Sophie’s still wearing the ring?” said Agatha.

Tedros bit his lip.

“How is that possible!” Agatha exploded. “Did anyone talk to her! Did anyone tell her what’s at stake?” “Ha!” Hansel pipped, rolling by.

Merlin smiled tightly at Agatha. “We tried this morning, dear. The entire League tried.” He eyed Uma sweeping up the scraps of black satin. “Let’s just say Sophie won’t be destroying the School Master’s ring anytime soon.” “I don’t understand—” Agatha pressed. “She promised to do it once we left school!” “Put it this way,” said Tedros. “Last night, Sophie beat Hort with any utensil in the kitchen she could find, saying he’d ruined everything by coming with us and he better scram before she put the rolling pin up his you know what. But ever since we tried to make her destroy the ring, well, not only won’t she destroy it, but now it seems she isn’t in such a hurry to get rid of Hort after all.” Agatha followed the prince’s eyes to the buff, black-haired boy standing sentinel in front of a curtained cave wall . . . and a human-sized lump in the curtain behind him.

“It’s why he’s coming with us,” Tedros said grimly. “She says he’s her bodyguard.” Hort barred her path. “Can I help you?”

“I need to talk to her, Hort. Now,” Agatha commanded.

“No visitors,” said Hort.

“Sophie, tell the ape to move!” Agatha barked over his shoulder.

“Are we going to talk about the ring?” squeaked Sophie behind the curtain.

“Obviously!”

“Then no.”

Hort grinned at Agatha, bangs jagged against his forehead like lightning bolts.

Agatha glowered witheringly. “Tried to be her roommate, tried to be her best friend, and now you’re her slave. Nice muscles by the way. If only a hot body cured spinelessness and servility.” Hort thrust his face in hers, flashing sharp, yellow teeth. “As soon as she’s ready, I’m taking her back to the School for Evil where she belongs,” he hissed, lowering his voice so Sophie wouldn’t hear. “She’s not staying here with these weird old fogeys or anywhere near that . . . that . . . dingleweed.” He locked eyes with Tedros across the room and spat in his direction. Tedros made an obscene gesture at him.

But Agatha was still gazing at Hort’s jacked-up torso and edgy haircut, her face softening in astonishment. “You really think you still have a chance with her, don’t you? That’s why you chased her. That’s why you’re still here.” Hort blinked back, as if she’d seen him naked. Then he sneered savagely. “If you don’t get out of my reach in the next three seconds, I’ll—” “Hort, dearest?” Sophie’s voice fluttered softly. “You can let Aggie through. But tell her she has to bring me new clothes and some nail polish.” Agatha barreled by Hort, elbowing him in the sternum, and threw open the curtain to find Sophie shivering against the wall, black gown torn to shreds, cheeks pale, hair rumpled, and makeup smeared all over her like a madwoman in an attic.

“If only the role of Bride of Frankenstein hadn’t already been played,” said Agatha.

“Aggie, my darling! My poopsie! You don’t know what it was like!” cried Sophie, collapsing into her arms. “I never said I wouldn’t do it. All I said is I needed a little time. And then they descended on me like wolves! Here I am, tickled pink to meet my childhood heroes, and instead Tinkerbell is stinging me, shrieking like a dog whistle, Hansel and Gretel are goosing me with wheelchairs and yammering in that Teutonic accent, Peter Pan is jabbing me with a cane and lecturing me on civic responsibility, and even Merlin—Merlin, who in storybooks is wise and just and kind—shoves Excalibur into my hands as the others yank and peck at me like magpies, trying to get the ring off my finger! And then! Then! That monstrous Cinderella corners me, stinking of a mummy untombed, and threatens in no uncertain terms to sit on me! Yes, you heard me, Agatha. A legendary princess threatening to put her voluminous buttocks upon my face and keep them there until I smash the ring. And you wonder why I find old people so repulsive! Well, now that ring is staying on my finger until kingdom come, you hear me? I will not reward bullying, terrorism, and worst of all, poor manners!” Agatha was long used to Sophie’s overblown monologues, but this one even left her pop-eyed.

“Sophie,” Agatha said, attempting to collect herself. “Their lives are at stake. All of our lives are at stake. The School Master is rewriting famous fairy tales so Evil wins. Every old story Evil makes new brings him and his army one step closer to Gavaldon. That’s where he’ll destroy Good once and for all.” “Gavaldon? What does the School Master want with Gavaldon?” Sophie asked, picking at a plate of bacon on the floor. “Do you think I can trade this for a kale omelet?” “Sophie!” Agatha seized her friend’s shoulders. “This is a boy who stabbed you through the heart, nearly hacked Tedros in half, came back from the grave, and has a school of two hundred undead villains fighting for him. It doesn’t matter what the School Master wants with Gavaldon. We don’t want to find out.” Sophie gulped.

“So listen, poopsie. I’m going to get Excalibur and you’re going to smash that ring just like you promised,” Agatha said firmly. “Right here and now, with no one watching but me. Got it?” She grabbed the curtain to leave— “I can’t.”

Agatha let go of the curtain.

“I can’t do it, Aggie,” Sophie whispered behind her. There was a steel to her voice, the frippery and friendliness gone.

Agatha slowly turned.

Sophie’s face was a strange, tense mask, as if she’d prepared for this moment but was struggling how to play it.

“This isn’t about manners, is it?” said Agatha.

Sweat beaded Sophie’s brow. “I have dreams, Aggie. Dreams of this . . . man. A devil-faced man who I’ve never seen before. But if I try to destroy the ring, he kills me.” “Dreams? That’s what’s stopping you?” Agatha groaned in relief. She’d been sure it was something far worse.

“No, Aggie. This man in the dreams knows me. I can see it in his eyes,” Sophie said, her voice still unsteady. “He’s telling me I can’t destroy the ring. At least not yet.” “It’s just a dream, Sophie. Dreams aren’t real.”

“Before I ever came to school, I dreamed a beautiful, frost-haired boy would love me and that was real. I dreamed of you as my Nemesis and that was real too,” said Sophie. “Dreams aren’t just dreams, Agatha. Not in this world.” Agatha took in Sophie’s anguished face. “So what are you telling me, then.” Sophie caressed the ring on her finger. “I know why the man stops me. He wants me to make sure it’s right. Just like you and I agreed to make sure it’s right back at school. Once I know it’s right, I can destroy the ring.” “You’re blathering, Sophie,” said Agatha, exasperated. “Once you know what’s right—” But now she saw Sophie wasn’t caressing the ring on her finger. Sophie was caressing the name tattooed beneath it.

TEDROS.

Tedros.

Tedros.

Slowly Agatha’s eyes widened, the rules of the game dawning on her.

Sophie would destroy the School Master’s ring only once she had the thing worth destroying it for.

And not before.

“Aggie?”

Agatha looked up and saw Sophie watching Tedros through a slit in the curtain.

“It must have been hard to let your prince go. But it was your idea to start over, wasn’t it? You agreed to give Tedros up. You agreed to give the three of us a clean slate to find love,” Sophie said defensively. “And now all can still come to a happy end, Aggie . . . because of you.” Agatha’s heart stoppered her throat. “It doesn’t matter what I agreed. You promised to destroy the ring as soon as we left school—” Sophie turned back to Agatha. “I’ll destroy the ring. I’ll kill Rafal like I promised. And all your Good friends, Old and New, will be safe forever,” she said. “But I need Tedros to give me a chance like he promised. I need him to . . . kiss me. Because once he kisses me, he’ll know I’m his queen.” Agatha couldn’t speak, for she understood perfectly.

To save Good, she had to help Sophie kiss her prince.

To save Good, she had to help her best friend take her Ever After.

“But—but that’s cheating!” Agatha fought, anger swelling. “You think you can blackmail me? What about what I want? What Tedros wants? You can’t change what people feel!” Sophie held her gaze. “I love you so much, Agatha. And I know how much you love Teddy. . . . But you? A queen?” Agatha’s anger seeped away.

“I saw the way you looked at him in that tower, Aggie,” said Sophie. “You won’t have Tedros to yourself anymore as a queen. You’ll have to share him with an entire kingdom for the rest of your life. Just think: thousands of eyes on you, every second of every day, watching your every move, picking out every flaw, telling you that you aren’t good enough. . . . Everyone will have their claws out for you, like Gavaldon all over again, only a thousand times worse. Tedros will spend every waking moment defending why he chose you as his queen instead of doing real Good as king. You’ll close yourself off to protect him. You’ll doubt whether he’s happy. And it’ll only be a matter of time before Tedros doubts you too. The tension will fester, the two of you at each other’s throats, forgetting why you ever thought you were in love at all. And before long, Aggie, you’ll steal away from Camelot in the middle of the night and set yourself free—just like Guinevere did, leaving your king all alone. Imagine what that would do to Tedros. To end up like his father, lonely and humiliated. It’d kill him.” Sophie moved closer. “You can’t be his queen, Agatha. You don’t want to be. For his sake.” Agatha recoiled, breathless. “This isn’t about me—this is about the ring . . . about your promise—” Sophie touched her shoulder. “I know you’ll want to tell him all of this. Maybe he’ll even lie for you and pretend to give me a chance . . . but I’ll know if he’s faking it, Aggie. I’ll know if his kiss is for real. So if you want the ring destroyed, I need you to help me win his heart—” Agatha spun away, lurching for the curtain, but Sophie held her back. “When our storybook closes, you’ll see this is how it was meant to be from the beginning. Tedros and me, King and Queen of Camelot. You, our faithful friend and savior of Good, happy on your own like you used to be,” she said. “I know what you must be thinking. That I’m still a witch. That I’m still Evil. But how else can three people have a happy ending? You never wanted to be a princess like I did. You never wanted a fairy tale or a boy’s love or anything to do with boys at all. That’s when you were happiest, Aggie. Never caring what people thought of you, never doubting yourself, never answering to anyone but yourself. . . . Don’t you see? This is how each of us gets what matters most to us. This is the ending that feels right. The last Ever After to our fairy tale.” She reached up, fingers shaking, and stroked her friend’s cheek. “Look at me, Agatha . . .” “Get away from me—” Agatha gasped, strangling for air. She broke free and fumbled at the curtains, grasping at the opening, only to tangle up in the fabric and crash through, face-planting in cave sand.

“Coulda talked louder for us,” Peter Pan’s voice grouched.

Agatha wiped away sand to see the entire League gathered behind Hort’s body barrier, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“Old people don’t have the best of ears, dear,” Riding Hood chided. “Couldn’t hear a word.” The others murmured agreement.

Then Agatha glimpsed Merlin in the far corner, tight-faced and tugging at his beard. Maybe no one else in the League had gleaned her and Sophie’s conversation. But the wizard heard everything.

“So?” asked a deep voice.

It was Tedros, smiling hopefully next to Princess Uma.

“Is Sophie ready to do it?” he asked. “Is she ready to destroy the ring?” Agatha saw him smile wider, convinced she’d accomplished what he couldn’t. For all their fights and failings, her prince still trusted her more than he trusted himself. Agatha’s heart melted. In this single, terrible moment, she loved him more than ever before.

Tedros saw the change in her face and his smile wavered. “Or . . . are we moving on to new hideouts?” Over his shoulder, Agatha could see Yuba the Gnome tacking storybooks to the far wall. More old tales, at least ten of them, open to their last pages, new endings illuminated. Fair princesses slain, valiant princes gutted, clever children eaten . . .

Agatha’s legs jellied.

The School Master was working faster now.

Old villains were on the hunt.

Agatha lowered her eyes to the League of Thirteen, all watching her intently—the greatest heroes of Good, in mortal danger of losing everything they’d worked for to Evil.

Was her Ever After worth all of theirs?

Was her own happiness worth so many lives?

And would she even be happy if she fought Sophie for Tedros?

Just like Guinevere, a voice echoed.

Just like Guinevere.

A sparkle of green distracted her from her thoughts, and in Cinderella’s mirror Agatha spotted the reflection of a single emerald eye spying on Tedros through the curtain.

Old villains on the hunt indeed.

Agatha waited for the fire to burn inside of her . . . the mettle to fight Sophie for her prince . . .

But it never came.

For as Agatha looked at thirteen heroes who needed her, she knew Sophie was right. She couldn’t risk their lives by striving for a crown she doubted to her very core . . . for a kingdom she would inevitably fail . . . for a king who would see he’d made a terrible mistake.

How could she fight for something her heart didn’t even want? Especially when there was a greater fight to be won?

It’s why Sophie had known all along that Agatha would agree to her terms.

Because Agatha could never be Tedros’ queen, no matter how much she loved him.

And because Sophie knew that deep, deep down, in the pit of her soul, Agatha was Good. And when put to the test, Agatha would sacrifice everything to stay true to that Good.

Even if it meant surrendering her battle to win the war.

Even if it meant giving up her prince.

Even if it meant her prince giving up her.

Slowly Agatha looked up at Tedros, holding back tears.

“We’re moving on,” she said.