فصل 15

15

AGATHA

Pirate Pavilion

“Arthur’s blood? What do you mean the Snake has Arthur’s blood!” Nicola blurted.

“Shh! They’ll hear us!” Sophie snapped. “Agatha and I were having a private conversation—” “Your voice is so screechy there’s nothing private about it.” “You moldy little toadstool—”

“Is this really the time to be bickering?” Agatha hissed between them.

The three girls were chained by the hands, one behind the other, with Bogden, Willam, Hort, Dot, Anadil, and Hester fixed to the same chain in lockstep ahead of them. Four teenage pirates in black leather, wielding curved swords, rode on horseback, two ahead, two behind, marshaling the prisoners through Jaunt Jolie, paved with yellow and pink brick, hot under their feet from the broiling summer sun. Agatha could see townspeople peeping from houses, many with black eyes or gashed cheeks.

“This is an Ever kingdom. Why aren’t they helping us?” Sophie whispered, tripping over her long, ruffly blue dress. “Aren’t Evers supposed to rescue Good from the clutches of Evil?” “You’re not Good,” Agatha grumbled, dripping sweat. “Plus, they’re probably relieved it’s not them. Also, don’t you have any questing clothes?” “Like your tomboy getup? You look like a mill worker, while I look like Wendy from Peter Pan, only not as helpless or dull. I told Boobeshwar to hem it, but the fool’s run off with his fiancée—” Sophie stumbled on her dress again and a shirtless pirate smacked her hard with his horse reins. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, with a bony torso, a peeling sunburnt face, and a nose broken in two places.

“Izzis what lasses look like atta School for Evil? Pity I aint creepin’ the halls, then,” he chuckled, leering down at her. “School Master passed my house by on kidnappin’ night. Musta thought little ol’ Wesley wouldn’t turn out Evil enough. Too bad. We coulda been friends.” He curled towards Sophie, flashing snaggly teeth. “Bet ye smell like warm cherry pie.” “Well, you’ll never know since that’s the closest you’ll ever get to me. Or any female, I suspect,” Sophie snipped.

Wesley reddened and spat at her. “Wait ‘til the Snake gets his hands on ye.” He rode to join his fellow pirates ahead.

Agatha saw Sophie’s finger glow hot pink. “Steady, Sophie.” “Dirty thugs. I could kill them all,” Sophie fumed. “Though I’m a little out of practice.” “They’re taking us to the Snake. That’s what matters,” said Agatha.

The original plan had been to fight the pirates and rescue Beatrix’s quest team, wherever they were. Given reports that the pirates had taken over Jaunt Jolie’s ports, Agatha had expected them to attack the moment the Igraine docked—and they did in startling numbers, surfacing from the water in scaly black cloaks and silver-tipped black boots, scrambling up the boat like lizards. From storybooks, Agatha had expected the pirates to be gnarly old men, with curly beards and stinking of rum, not a band of wild young alley cats. But after two days of sailing from Avalon back into balmy waters, two days that they filled with strategy meetings and spell practice, Agatha’s crew had been prepared for anything. Sophie unleashed a chilling witch’s scream that sent the young rogues diving underwater; Hester’s demon flung them overboard; Anadil’s rats sank teeth into necks; Dot rained steaming hot chocolate on their heads; Hort’s man-wolf pitched boys to the horizon while Willam and Bogden beat them off rails with the only weapons they had left (the beaver had stolen the rest); even Nicola, who had no fingerglow yet, smacked a pirate with her shoe. . . .

Except Agatha had been so focused on her crew that she hadn’t seen the cretin coming up behind her: a young pirate with bloodred tattoos around his eyes who shoved a knife against her throat. He recognized her hideous little face, he’d said, pulling a wet wad of parchment from his pocket— “Snake said you lot’d be comin’ our way,” the boy cooed, smelling like rancid meat. “Won’t pay us if we don’t bring ye to him alive, though. Wants to kill ye all ‘imself. Much as I’d like to cut yer neck and claim the bounty inna name of Thiago of Netherwood. Git my name in a fairy tale the ol’-fashion way. By earnin’ it.” He scowled murderously at the group. “Yellow-bellied cream puffs. Think ‘cause you went to that hoity-toity school yer better than the lot of us? Pissin’ Evers and Nevers, questin’ for glory! We’ll see what yer books ‘n teachers are worth when yer squealin’ like pigs—” Hester’s demon launched for him. So did Hort’s man-wolf and the rest of the crew— Agatha ordered them to stand down. Not because she was scared; she was quite sure she could take out this Thiago twerp with a stun spell and a knee to his groin. But after what happened in Avalon, this was their one chance to meet the Snake. They had to find out who this villain was.

But now squired in chains with her crew, Agatha could feel her nerves shredding as they neared the town square. If Tedros could see her right now, he’d be on the next ship out of Camelot to rescue her. It’s why she hadn’t written him, letting her new courier crow idle about the ship instead. She’d come on this quest to ease his problems, not add to them.

A fool’s errand, her soul’s voice said. He can’t be king without going through the fire.

I’m his queen. My duty is to protect him, Agatha fought back.

You can’t protect him from the truth.

“Good lord,” Sophie said, distracting her. “Beasts didn’t take long to put their stink on the place.” Agatha looked past her and blanched. The main thoroughfare of Jaunt Jolie was once an airy yellow-and-pink pavilion of shops, marble arches, and fountains filled with Wish Fish that painted beautiful water-paintings of people’s deepest wishes. Now it was a steamy pirates’ den with more than fifty sweat-soaked boys lounging on stone benches, spray-painting graffiti, barbecuing beef over open flames, drinking cider out of barrels, and tormenting Wish Fish to draw lewd images. WANTED posters littered the foul-smelling pavilion, featuring different members of Agatha’s crew with varying bounties (there was even one for Bogden at a meager 10 pennies).

“Four hundred gold coins?” Sophie said, spotting her own face on a poster. “Aren’t you at 500, Aggie? Surely a Dean is worth more than a princess—” “Forget that. How did the Snake know we were coming here?” Agatha asked, scanning posters of Hester . . . Hort . . . Dot. . . .

“Forget that too,” Nicola butted in, staring at a poster of herself. “How does he know my face?” “Wait a second,” said Agatha, squinting ahead. “Isn’t that . . . Beatrix?” A portrait of their blond, doe-eyed classmate gazed back at them from one of three WANTED posters on a shop window. The other two posters were of ravishing, brown-skinned Reena and freckly, red-haired Millicent, both assigned by Professor Dovey as helpers to Beatrix in their quest against the pirates.

“Means the Snake hasn’t caught them yet,” Sophie surmised. “Pity.” “I thought Millicent had been mogrified,” said Agatha.

“No wonder he can’t find her, then—” said Sophie.

“Hey, guys?” Nicola interjected.

Agatha and Sophie followed her eyes to a tattered poster on the ground.

“He killed a queen?” Sophie breathed.

Agatha knew she should feel scared for her own fate, but looking at the queen’s face, she only felt fury. “What kind of boys would help a masked murderer? They’re just like that scummy beaver. Willing to do anything for a bundle of gold.” And yet scores of gold coins were littered across the pavilion, as if the scoundrels had earned so much booty that this was merely loose change. Nearby, a young pirate urinated on a wall beneath shops graffitied with new names: “DAMSEL IN ‘DIS DRESS,” “YO HO HOME FURNISHINGS,” “THE PEG LEG PUB,” “PLUNDER’S PLUMBING.” And all the while, they sang shanties off-key as they waved cider jugs and stomped their silver-tipped boots— Underneath me pirate hat,

That’s where I hide me treasure map!

On the deck where floorboards creak,

That’s where I keep me wooden teeth!

In lovely maidens’ open hearts—

That’s where I’m storin’ all me farts!

“No wonder the School Master didn’t take them for Evil,” said Agatha. “Pirates in storybooks are bold and clever. These are just horrible.” “Wonder if Hort feels the same way,” said Nicola.

“Hort, Hort, Hort. Is that all you talk about?” Sophie moaned.

“Hort’s father was a pirate, which means Hort grew up around pirates,” said Nicola. “He might very well know these boys.” “Good point,” said Agatha.

Sophie muttered something under her breath.

Agatha wished she could talk to Hort, but he was at the front of the chain, sweaty and shirtless after reverting from a man-wolf (the pirates had thankfully let him put on breeches). The witches were with him too, whispering to each other and giving Agatha nervous looks.

Agatha’s stomach sank. Had she really thought this through? Or had she unwittingly put her crew in danger like she had in Avalon? While sailing from there, they’d all been so busy preparing for the battle against the pirates that Agatha had never prepared for what would happen if they were captured (the pirates had even chained up Hester’s demon). Nor had she or Sophie revealed to the witches what the Lady of the Lake had said. Agatha herself had barely processed what Sophie told her. . . .

Arthur’s blood? How could the Snake have Arthur’s blood? Was there another relative they didn’t know about? Or did “Arthur’s blood” mean something else? She needed to talk to Professor Dovey about it, but because of that cruddy crystal ball, Dovey wouldn’t check in with them until tomorrow— Wait. Wouldn’t the Storian have written about it? They were in a fairy tale, after all, where the pen recorded every key moment. Dovey was on watch in the School Master’s tower. . . . She would have seen the scene unfold between Sophie and the Lady of the Lake . . . which meant Dovey surely knew what the Lady had said to Sophie before she vanished. And if Dovey knew, so would Merlin . . . perhaps even Tedros by now. . . .

Agatha tensed up. Did Tedros know, then, that his best friend was dead? Did he know that his princess was hunting the killer? All her efforts to insulate him from worry suddenly seemed foolish.

And yet, beneath it all, Agatha also felt an odd relief. If anyone could make sense of what the Lady of the Lake had said, it’d be Dovey and Arthur’s own family. She’d leave the mystery in the Dean’s hands for now, then. She had to. Because every part of her had to focus on how she and her crew could meet a murderous villain and still come out alive— “Aggie, look,” Sophie said, pointing to the royal castle ahead, with two pink-and-gold towers now flying black crossbones flags. It’s where the pirates were leading them.

“Izzat the ‘princess of Camelot’? I’ve seen prettier mole rats,” a handsome young pirate heckled as the prisoners crossed into the pavilion.

“Don’t care if they look like a horse’s arse as long as I git me gold,” a shaved-headed one said. “Tally those bounties, divide by us, and what’s that make?” “A whole lotta beef,” said a fat pirate, firing up the barbecue to a resounding cheer.

“Blimey. A couple fine ones in there, innit?” grunted a swarthy one, swinging his arm around Nicola.

“And lookie here! The new Dean of Evil!” a runty one hooted, grabbing at Sophie. “Saw her portrait in my sis’s school handbook! Wonder if she’ll let me in for a kiss. . . .” Agatha could see Sophie’s finger glowing so pink it was starting to melt the gold vial on her necklace. But even with her cheeks hot with humiliation, Sophie knew full well they shouldn’t fight these thugs. They’d be face-to-face with the Snake soon. . . .

“Hi-ho! Fair maidens! Sing us a shanty!” the fat pirate yelled.

“Shanty! Shanty!” the boys demanded.

“We need a plan for the Snake,” Agatha whispered to Sophie.

“I have an idea,” Nicola said, eavesdropping.

“We don’t need anything from you, first year,” Sophie grouched.

“A first year who’s saved your life twice,” said Nicola.

“Luck,” Sophie poohed.

“I’ll take any luck we can get,” Agatha trumped to Nicola. “What do you have in mind?” A spray of gold coins flew over their heads.

“Sing us a shanty!” the fat boy badgered, flinging more gold at them.

“Snake wears a mask, right?” said Nicola, ducking the coins. “He’s not going to want to reveal his identity.” “Aren’t you glad she’s here, Aggie? So helpful,” Sophie sniped.

“But that’s how we find out who he is,” said Nicola, looking squarely at her. “Sophie, we need you to—” Someone yanked the line to a stop and the three girls crashed into Willam, who was right in front of them. Sunburnt Wesley glowered down from the horse, his sword blade hooked through the chain. “When a pirate gives ye an order, ye best obey it. Don’t think the Snake would flinch if we delivered yer lot without noses.” He tapped Sophie’s and Nicola’s noses with his sword. “Which means we ain’t movin’ another inch until these two lassies pucker up and sing.” Sophie and Nicola swallowed.

So did Agatha, Hester, Anadil, Dot, Hort, Bogden, and Willam, finally all able to look at each other again. This wasn’t like the battle on the boat; here they were outnumbered by pirates twenty to one, they couldn’t direct their fingerglows with their hands cuffed behind their backs (Anadil’s rats included), and their best weapon, Hester’s demon, was wrapped in chains, uselessly trapped on her neck. Meaning the future of the crew’s noses depended on the song that was about to come out of the two girls’ mouths.

“I’ll start,” Sophie announced—

“No, I will,” Nicola cut in. She eyed Agatha intently and sang in a clear voice: “There once was a boy named Ito

Whose tale was in my storybook.

He had a face of perfect beauty

And all day in mirrors he looked.

But Ito loved his face so much

He didn’t want others to enjoy

So he put on a mask

And pretended to be coy

He wore the mask for days and years

Until he fell for a lovely girl

Who confided to a friend,

‘He must be ugly and hiding from the world.’ So Ito finally removed his mask

To prove her wrong and be bold

Only to find that in time

His face had grown very old.”

Agatha lit up with understanding. Looking miffed, Sophie glared at Nicola, then opened her mouth to sing, but Agatha jumped in and sang back to Nicola in a husky, barbarous croak: “I know a boy like Ito

Who wears a mask of green

We need a pretty girl to tempt his pride

And make him want to be seen.

A girl like a prize or a trophy,

A girl whose name is . . .”

Agatha and Nicola turned and stared at Sophie.

Sophie blinked back at them, baffled.

Silence hung over the pavilion.

“THAT AIN’T A SHANTY!” a pirate cried.

“Boo!” the others shouted.

Beef bits and fistfuls of coins spewed violently in their direction. Someone threw a parrot and hit Hort in the groin— “Poke out their eyes!” one ordered.

“Cut off their arms!” commanded another.

Young pirates with swords advanced. Agatha and Nicola recoiled, dragging the rest of the crew with them. There was nowhere to go. All nine members of the group backed up against a wall, shadows of pirate blades rising over them. Fingerglows burnt bright behind the kids’ backs as they tried to melt each other’s cuffs. . . . Hester’s demon screeched and tore at his chains. . . . But it was too late. Swords slashed down— “Yoo-hoo! Boys!”

Hands behind her back, Sophie shimmied her ruffly blue dress and started high-kicking— “I’m Whiskey Woo, the pirate queen!

Whiskey Woo!

Whiskey Woo!

I’m Whiskey Woo, the pirate queen!

Whiskey Woo!

Whiskey Woo!”

Pirates held their swords, eyes big as gold coins.

Sophie kicked higher, flashing her bloomers and a pearly white smile. “I’m Whiskey Woo, the pirate queen! Whiskey Woo! Whiskey W—” She saw the pirates’ faces and slowly stopped singing.

The pavilion went silent as a tomb.

Somewhere a parrot squawked.

“Blimey. That’s aworst shanty I ever ‘eard,” Wesley spat.

“Bottom of the barrel,” said tattooed Thiago.

“Don’t deserve the word ‘barrel,’” said the fat pirate.

Agatha’s palms dripped. She could see Sophie flush-faced, knowing she’d just doomed them all— Then like a sun ripping through clouds, the boys exploded into laughter.

“Might be pretty, but she’s stupid as a nut!” the handsome pirate howled.

“Don’t git too close or you might turn stupid too!” the runty one whooped. “Put that inna school handbook!” “Feel sorry for ‘er students! Their Dean’s a dope!” the fat one sniggered.

Sophie gaped at them, red as a beet.

“Get these clods to the Snake,” Wesley snarled, shaking his head. “Faster ye get ‘em out of our sight, the faster we’re rid of ‘em for good.” “Whiskey Woo! Whiskey Woo!” his mates mocked.

Eager to deliver their bounties, the horsebound pirates whipped the kids on towards the castle. Agatha stared at Sophie, speechless.

“I saved us, didn’t I?” Sophie retorted.

As they filed out of the pavilion, they could hear pirates still jeering: “Whiskey Woo! Whiskey Woo!” “A good laugh is worth its weight in gold!” Sophie called back at them angrily. “Better up that bounty on me now! A solid thousand, I’d say, wouldn’t you?” “Whiskey Woo! Whiskey Woo!” the pirates ragged.

Nicola whispered to Agatha. “At least we have our noses.” “She can’t outsmart the Snake by being a fool, Nicola!” Agatha hissed, straining against her cuffs. “Your shanty was right. Sophie can get him to take off his mask, but only if he likes her. How is she going to make him like her? With a limerick and a cha-cha?” “Leave it to me. I’ll help her,” Nicola whispered.

“Yeah, right. You don’t know Sophie like I do—” “This isn’t just your fairy tale anymore, Agatha,” Nicola said sharply.

Agatha was quiet.

“Listen,” said Nicola. “Ever since I got to the Woods, I’ve thought my real life was back in Gavaldon. But the Storian wrote all of us into this quest for a reason, including me. And the only way I’ll find out why I’m on this quest is if you let me be a part of it.” Her dark eyes softened. “Maybe you already have a best friend, Agatha. Maybe you don’t have room in your story for any more. But I have room in mine. Let me help you.” Agatha searched the first year’s face. All this time, she thought she was the captain of this fairy tale. The only one who could steer them to a new happy ending, as if it were a mappable port on the shore. That’s another reason she’d left Tedros behind. Because in her toughest moments, Agatha trusted herself and herself alone.

And yet . . . maybe that’s why she could never find a happy ending that lasted.

She looked into Nicola’s eyes.

“Friends?” the first year asked.

“Friends,” said Agatha, a warm feeling spreading through her.

Together, the two girls raised their gaze to the castle, the chain pulling them towards its doors.

The warmth inside Agatha went cold.

A Snake was waiting.