فصل 27

27

SOPHIE

The King’s Speech

A few hours earlier, Sophie and Rhian had been riding together in a carriage towards Maker’s Market, while the rest of Rhian’s team trailed in carriages behind.

“Filthy walls, dusty windows, weeds in the front garden . . . and then that hideous rope bridge we had to walk across to get to the carriages . . . I thought Camelot was supposed to be inspiring,” said Sophie, wiping mud off her heels with Rhian’s handkerchief. “You’d think in six months, Teddy and Agatha could raise enough money to at least give the appearance of a new regime.” Rhian leaned back, muscles tight against his blue-and-gold coat. “Perhaps the money they raised went to things that actually matter.” “Appearances do matter, Rhian,” said Sophie, smoothing a businesslike blue pantsuit she’d picked for the occasion. “How do you think I remade Evil at school? By dumping all that doom and gloom and helping both Evers and Nevers see Evil in a new light. Then again, I had the advantage of using magic in my renovations, and magic is apparently banned at Camelot Castle per a dead king’s orders.” She tapped a finger to her lip. “Truth is, if I were Aggie, the first thing I would do is wipe out all trappings of Arthur’s legacy, which haunts that place like a ghost, and bring Camelot into a new era. Granted, that’s hard to do when Arthur’s son is king and Aggie’s soon-to-be husband, but . . . I’m only thinking of what’s good for the people rather than what’s good for Teddy.” Rhian watched her, rain pattering against the windows. “Anything else, King Sophie?” Sophie sighed. “I suppose this is proof that my soul is Evil, isn’t it?” “Not necessarily. But given the Snake is coming to kill us, you’ve chosen a peculiar time to start planning your reign,” Rhian said with a wink. “Once we get to the Market, we need to stay alert. We can’t let the Snake’s thugs infiltrate our army.” A buzz grew outside the carriage, and Sophie and Rhian looked out opposite windows to see the streets packed with people at the base of the hill.

“I still don’t understand how Teddy expects us to march in and put together a functional army from this mob,” said Sophie as the carriage wove down the slope. “For one thing, they’re all from different kingdoms. For another, we don’t have the slightest idea of their skills or abilities. Plus, it’s not like Tedros has any authority over them. He can’t even free Excalibur. He’s barely King of Camelot, let alone King of the Woods. And if he doesn’t have authority over them then his knight and ex-girlfriend certainly won’t either.” “Authority comes from doing your job,” said Rhian, his flat, dark brows pulling in. “That’s where Tedros and I differ, perhaps.” Sophie noticed a group of teenage boys walking along the streets towards the Market. Two of them wore gold-foil Lion masks that looked just like Rhian’s old mask.

She turned to the knight. “What do you mean that’s where you and Tedros differ?” “No knight should speak thoughts of his king without that king present,” said Rhian.

“Would you speak these thoughts to Tedros directly?” “Certainly.”

“Then he won’t have issue with you speaking them to me,” said Sophie. “Especially after he told me that he thinks you and I are a ‘perfect ending.’” “Did he?” Rhian smiled, mulling this over. “Well, here’s what I’d say to him. Tedros believes it’s Arthur’s sword that gives him authority. That being Arthur’s son is all he needs to be king. But that’s what’s made him vulnerable to the Snake in the first place. The moment the Snake claimed he was Arthur’s son, Tedros fell into the trap of fighting the Snake’s claim instead of fighting the real war: the war for the people’s hearts. Think about that story The Lion and the Snake. The Snake may have become king by playing a game of Truth and Lies. But the Lion didn’t play that game. The Lion became king by saving people. The Lion became king by action. That’s what Tedros keeps missing.” Rhian’s eyes sparkled like a sunlit ocean. “Because in the end, it’s not Arthur’s sword that gives a king his authority. It’s a king’s authority that earns him that sword.” Sophie was quietly watching him.

“Then again, everything Tedros has done has led to me being here with you in this moment . . . so maybe the story is working exactly as it should,” said the knight, gazing at her.

“Depends on how it ends,” Sophie said friskily.

The carriage rocked along the bumpy road.

Suddenly they were kissing, Rhian gripping her hard, Sophie’s hands on his waist, the feel of his heartbeat against hers as their lips slid over each other’s— Over Rhian’s shoulder, Sophie glimpsed three teenaged girls through the window, wrapped in a white flag with a Lion symbol.

Sophie pulled away from her knight.

“What is it?” Rhian asked.

“Turn around,” said Sophie.

Rhian swiveled and jumped, his head hitting the ceiling— Through the window, he saw a thousand images of his own face.

Evers and Nevers jammed the streets of Maker’s Market, hoisting banners and posters and flags with paintings of Rhian. A group of young men in the Ever recruitment line flashed green Gillikin jackets that read “SONS OF THE LION” on their backs, as a parade of young girls from Kyrgios flaunted pea-green sashes that said “LION’S ARMY.” In the Never line, a clan of man-wolves from Bloodbrook wore gold Lion masks, while street vendors sold everything from Lion shirts to Lion sparklers to chocolate Lions to fuzzy Lion slippers. Everywhere Sophie and Rhian looked they saw men, women, and children from all over the Woods, dressed in their various kingdoms’ colors, with Lion tattoos painted on their arms and chests, bellowing songs and chants: He kills the scims

He’ll kill the Snake

The Woods was doomed

Until the Lion did wake!

To Camelot he comes

To our king he swore

Now we join the fight

To watch him roar!

Ogres, dwarves, and goblins mixed in the lines, as did mogrified bucks and bulls with Lion-insignia collars, while fairies and nymphs floated above the crowd with glittery Lion patterns on their wings.

Speechless, Rhian rolled down his window to get a better look. Instantly people in the crowd spotted him and rushed his carriage— “You saved my nephew at the Four Point!” said a man in Jaunt Jolie’s royal uniform, a Lion shaved into the side of his head.

“Woulda been fed to the man-eating hills if it weren’t for you!” said a one-eyed girl in Mahadeva’s guard jacket.

“Trolls left my village as soon as you appeared!” crowed a strapping young boy in a Foxwood school uniform.

“Fires stopped in Glass Mountain too!” said a nymph with translucent skin.

“Same with the attacks in Ravenbow! Snake’s scared of the Lion!” said a dark-dressed boy wearing a Lion necklace.

“We’re here to fight with you!” said a girl from the Lion’s Army, hanging on Rhian’s window.

“We’re here to fight for you!” said a Son of the Lion.

More Evers and Nevers thronged the carriage as the driver tried to whip the horses on, but the crowd blocked them and the two carriages behind.

“LION! LION! LION!” they shouted.

Sophie and Rhian exchanged baffled looks.

Without warning, Sophie opened the carriage door— “Sophie, no!” Rhian barked.

But the moment Sophie emerged, the people let out a huge cheer.

“She’s with the Lion!” a girl cried.

“The rumors were true! He’s Sophie’s prince!” said her friend.

“Sophie’s with Camelot now!” a boy hollered.

Lost in a daze, Sophie scanned the thousands of people and creatures and animals, Good and Evil, cheering for her and Rhian as rain soaked her hair. She could see Beatrix, Reena, and the three witches gaping through the windows of their respective carriages, just as bewildered by the sight of the Woods rallying around Evil’s Dean and her new love.

“SOPHIE! SOPHIE! SOPHIE!”

Sophie closed her eyes and soaked up the sound of her name. Ever since Rafal died, she’d been happy with a Dean’s life. She’d been happy on her own. That was the Ever After she’d fought so hard to find.

But then Rhian had come into her story. And for the first time, Sophie began to wonder if she was meant for more.

Much more.

She climbed up onto the side of the carriage and waved to the crowd— “Hello, my loves! I’m here! I’m here for you all!” “SOPHIE! SOPHIE! SOPHIE!” they roared.

She felt Rhian’s hand clasp her arm and she stepped down, cozying up to his broad chest, drinking in the Woods-wide worship and the breathless, red-hot feeling of fresh, new love.

“Isn’t it amazing?” she gasped.

“Sophie.”

“Yes, my prince?” she said, gazing up at him.

Rhian eyed her sternly. “We need to get to work.” Stripped to wet shirtsleeves, Rhian huddled with his rain-soaked team behind the gates to Camelot Park.

“We’re looking for two things. Loyalty to Camelot and loyalty to Tedros. That’s all. Anyone who passes the loyalty test qualifies to fight,” he said, raising his voice over the chants of his and Sophie’s names. “When the Snake comes, we need our army to stop him outside the castle perimeter. Before he crosses the drawbridge. These soldiers will be our first line of defense, so we need as many as we can get. But they must pass the loyalty test first.” He held out his hand. “Ready?” Sophie, Hester, Anadil, Dot, Beatrix, and Reena put their hands on his.

“Ready!” they said.

The gates opened. Selection began.

The process was simple. Rhian took charge of the Evers line with Beatrix and Reena; Sophie helmed the Nevers line with Hester and Anadil. As each candidate came forward, the respective teams tested them: 1. Do you believe Camelot is the leader of the Woods?

1. Do you believe King Tedros is a good king?

2. Are you willing to die to protect Camelot and King Tedros?

If they passed the test, then they were sent to Dot, who stamped them with her fingerglow and ushered them to the Town Hall inside Camelot Park, where they’d be fitted with armor and weapons.

If they didn’t pass, then they were denied entry and sent home.

At first, progress was slow.

For one thing, the leaders of the allied kingdoms came flurrying down the hill amidst a cavalcade of carriages, camels, elephants, magic carpets, and other modes of royal transport, Guinevere trailing behind, with each foreign leader determined to have a private audience with the Lion. Sophie thoroughly enjoyed this impromptu summit, staying close to Rhian and greeting Ever and Never kings and queens, while they kissed her hand and complimented her pantsuit (“If I’d have known this was a royal occasion, I would have dressed the part!” Sophie wisped). One by one, the leaders gave Rhian gifts for saving their kingdoms: a medal of honor from Foxwood, a mother-of-pearl wristwatch from Malabar Hills, a ruby-hilted dagger from Ravenbow, a diamond monocle from Glass Mountain. . . .

“We’ve informed Tedros and his mother that you must command the army,” the King of Jaunt Jolie told Rhian quietly, so Guinevere wouldn’t hear. “With you in charge, we know we’ll win.” “You’ve shown yourself to be a leader,” the Ice Giant of Frostplains confided. “We only feel comfortable in your hands.” “And with a face like that, you’re made to be a hero,” added the Empress of Putsi, admiring Rhian’s torso through his wet shirt.

Rhian gritted his teeth politely, looking eager to get back to work.

Even Guinevere herself couldn’t stop thanking him for saving her son in Nottingham, emotion nearly overtaking her, before she remembered Rhian and his charges had a job to do and she whisked the leaders into the Town Hall to make sure that the deliveries of weapons and armor from their respective kingdoms had arrived.

But just as Rhian and his team tried to push on, Agatha rode up, hidden beneath a hooded cloak, looking unnerved by the crowd.

“Aggie, isn’t it wonderful? They love him,” Sophie said, helping Agatha from her horse.

“And it seems they love you too,” said Agatha tightly, hearing chants of Sophie’s name.

“Who would have thought that a Dean of Evil would have to come to Camelot for respect?” Sophie marveled. “At school, kids pound on my office night and day, complaining about rankings or feigning some pustulous disease or asking inane questions, treating me like a maid or a tour guide, never once taking the time to appreciate how lucky they are to be talking to a real-life fairy-tale hero in the first place. But here . . . well, just look at all this! I’m going to revel in it while I can—” She saw Agatha’s face. “Oh, don’t be greedy, darling. Not everything in life can be about you and Teddy. You’ll get more attention than you can handle at your wedding.” “I’m not worried about attention, Sophie,” said Agatha, facing her dead-on. “I’m worried about Tedros ending up like Lancelot.” Sophie’s smile vanished. “I know that, Aggie,” she said sincerely. “So am I. And we’re doing the best we can to protect him.” She carried on interviewing, but she felt oddly self-conscious with her best friend watching from beneath her black hood like the grim reaper. But Agatha didn’t stay long and when she left, Sophie sighed with relief.

“She’s right, you know,” said a voice.

Sophie turned to see Rhian in the other line.

“A knight shouldn’t overshadow his king,” he said.

“Oh please. You and Tedros are a team. It doesn’t matter,” Sophie dismissed.

“You don’t get it,” said Rhian. “People weren’t cheering for Lancelot when Arthur was around, were they?” He went back to work.

Sophie tugged at her wet hair. Her knight had a point. Tedros’ ego was delicate, especially after all that had happened these past six months. But it’s not like Agatha would mention what she’d seen to Tedros. Aggie might be relentlessly honest, but she wasn’t stupid. Being a good queen meant propping up your king when he needed it, not seeding more doubts.

Then again Agatha wasn’t queen yet. And massaging boys’ egos . . . well, it wasn’t her friend’s strong suit.

But she didn’t have time to obsess over Agatha’s love life yet again. She had a job to do. A job that was remarkably difficult, Sophie realized, as she and the witches tested more Nevers, including a shifty-looking dwarf.

“And you believe Tedros is a good king?” Sophie asked.

“As good as his father,” the dwarf said in a basso voice.

“And how good was that?” said Anadil.

“About as good as one might expect,” said the dwarf.

“Which is how good?” Hester pushed.

“Depends on your definition of ‘good,’” the dwarf said.

They didn’t give him a stamp.

But that was the rare interview where they got to talking about Tedros at all. Most of their tests went like this: SOPHIE: Do you believe Camelot is the leader of the Woods?

NEVER: I believe the Lion is the leader of the Woods so if he’s at Camelot then yeah, Camelot is the leader of the Woods.

Or:

HESTER: Do you believe Tedros is a good king?

NEVER: Not until he brought in the Lion I didn’t.

Or:

ANADIL: Are you willing to die to protect King Tedros?

NEVER: Tedros? Ain’t heard of ‘im. I’m ‘ere for a Lion.

Sophie glanced over at Rhian’s group.

“So you swear your loyalty to King Tedros?” Beatrix tested a seven-foot nymph with hot-pink lips.

“I swear my loyalty to the Lion,” said the nymph airily.

“But do you swear your loyalty to Tedros too?” said Rhian.

“Only as much as the Lion swears his loyalty to Tedros,” said the nymph.

“But I am the Lion,” said Rhian.

“Then you should be the one answering these questions, not me,” said the nymph.

Rhian frowned, but Beatrix approved the nymph anyway. “Loyal enough,” she murmured. “If we limit ourselves to Tedros fans, I wouldn’t even qualify.” Sophie hurried off to use the toilet in the Hall and returned to find the witches bickering.

“What happened?” Sophie asked.

“Ani and Hester just let in a pirate!” Dot said.

“No, we didn’t,” Hester snapped. “You don’t think Ani and I know how to give a loyalty test? We spent the last six months interviewing School Masters!” “So did I! I’m on your quest, remember?” Dot retorted. “I saw his face—it was Wesley, the sunburnt one from Jaunt Jolie—he had peeling flesh around his eyes—” “You’re just paranoid after what happened with Kei,” Anadil growled.

Dot appealed to Sophie. “I saw him. I swear!”

“I just came from the Hall,” said Sophie skeptically. “Certainly didn’t see a sunburnt pirate—” “Because he already has a stamp!” said Dot. “He’s probably sneaking into the castle as we speak!” Sophie could see Dot about to cry. “Look, if you’re that sure, let’s at least check the Hall again. . . .” A blast of thunder came over their heads, dark clouds assembling in curious formation.

The girls looked up, startled.

That’s when the Snake came with a message.

Before the Snake’s warning, there’d been a rowdy, aimless pace to the recruitment, as if the prospect of war with the Snake was itself a phantom. As if by building an army to fight him, it would never have to actually be used.

After the Snake’s message, things changed.

The chants quieted, an edgy silence falling over the Market. The witches stopped bickering. Sophie stopped checking on Rhian or worrying about her rain-streaked makeup. Tests moved faster. Lines whittled down. The Town Hall filled up with new soldiers.

There were only seven hours until midnight.

Evers and Nevers took their loyalty tests with grim resolve, mustering nice words about Tedros in order to win their spot behind the Lion. Sophie noticed the new soldiers giving Rhian awed stares as they received their stamps, knowing that it wasn’t just their loyalty to the Lion being tested but the Lion’s loyalty to them, for now both Good and Evil had put their lives—and those of their families and kingdoms—in the knight’s hands. Even Sophie found herself gazing into each candidate’s eyes with will and strength, silently reassuring them as if she were their queen. Indeed, the longer the testing went, the more Sophie began to forget this was Tedros’ kingdom and Tedros’ army and began to see it as hers and Rhian’s. . . .

A boy appeared next to her in a gold Lion mask.

“They love you,” he said, his pure blue eyes roaming the crowd. He looked over at Rhian. “Both of you.” “Tedros?” Sophie said, stunned. She glanced back to see Agatha in her black hood, arms folded, standing in front of a horse.

“Found Rhian’s old mask in my bag before I rode down with Agatha. Didn’t want to distract the crowd from your work,” Tedros said. “Though it seems like I wouldn’t be the main attraction anyway.” Rhian paled slightly when he saw the king.

“Y-y-your Highness,” he said—

“I’m under no illusions of my own popularity compared to yours, Sir Rhian,” Tedros said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re the one who saved their kingdoms. You’re the one who saved me. Their loyalty to you will only be an asset.” The king’s eyes hardened through his mask. “As long as you grant me one request.” “Anything, Your Highness,” said Rhian.

“I kill the Snake tonight,” Tedros commanded. “No one else. Understood?” “Understood,” said Rhian.

“Good. We need to start moving soldiers to the castle. Snake’s coming in four hours,” said Tedros. “Meet me in the Hall so I can address the army. Move quickly, please.” He walked towards the Hall.

“Look who’s decided to be a king,” Hester murmured.

“While wearing his knight’s mask,” mumbled Anadil.

“Why did you bring him here?” Sophie hissed, accosting Agatha.

“He’s the king,” Agatha retorted. “He has a right to address his soldiers.” “The leaders want Rhian to command the army—”

“Rhian fights for Tedros. And so does any army of Camelot.” “Don’t be stupid, Agatha! The last thing we need is tension between him and Rhian!” “Well, maybe Rhian shouldn’t grandstand so much!” “Grandstand! He’s been nothing but humble and loyal!” “Then why is he pretending to be the Lion, riding around wearing a lion mask? Tedros is the Lion!” “Is it Rhian’s fault he saved everyone? Is it his fault the other leaders trust him over Teddy? Is it his fault everyone here came for him?” “Oh please. You just love to see Tedros humiliated.” “So now Rhian’s successes are my fault? Is Tedros’ insecurity my fault too?” “No, it’s mine,” said a voice.

The girls turned to see Rhian, red-faced.

“I told you, Sophie. It’s a mistake for them to pin their hopes on me,” said the knight. “I’m not the king. Tedros is. And now he will lead them.” He turned to Agatha. “To the Hall to hear the king?” Agatha smiled. “To the Hall to hear the king.”

The group dismissed the rest of the crowds by shooting sparks into the sky—“THANK YOU!” read Beatrix’s message to the Evers; “GO HOME” read Hester’s to the Nevers—and together, they sealed the gates to Camelot Park and went into Town Hall together to listen to Tedros’ speech.

The Hall thrummed with life, like a seaship off to war. More than a thousand new soldiers crammed inside on the dusty marble tile, lit by oil lamps overhead, which flickered every time a moth burnt in their flames. Men, women, creatures, and mogrifs were fitted with armor and weapons as leaders from the various kingdoms supervised from the stage and Guinevere made the rounds to check their stamps, her newly white hair slick from the rain.

Sophie and Agatha found Tedros standing in a corner in his Lion mask.

“Ready to inspire your army?” Agatha said eagerly.

Tedros blinked through his mask.

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Agatha prodded.

Tedros didn’t answer, his eyes on the allied leaders.

“Tedros?”

“Stop badgering me,” he said, glaring at Agatha.

Sophie saw Agatha peek at her for support.

“If you’re nervous, Rhian can address them,” Sophie said to Tedros.

“No,” said Agatha, giving Sophie a death stare.

“What is it?” Rhian said, arriving.

“Nothing,” Tedros replied sharply. “I’m doing it. It’s just . . . I had a flashback to the coronation. That’s all.” He headed towards the stage.

Sophie turned to Agatha. “Was the coronation that bad?” Agatha gave her a look that more than answered her question.

“He’ll be great,” Rhian assured, seeing their faces. “He’s a king. This is what kings do.” As soon as Tedros stepped before his army in a Lion mask, the soldiers exploded into cheers— “LION! LION! LION!”

Tedros took off the mask.

Soldiers hushed, staring at him.

The Hall was silent.

Agatha started clapping loudly and so did Rhian, before the crowd joined in with stiff applause for the king.

It ebbed quickly and Tedros was again standing in front of a quiet room.

“Hi. Hello. Welcome to Camelot,” said Tedros, his voice scratchy. “Thank you for your service. It’s my honor to have you—” Someone fumbled a sword and it clanged to the ground.

Tedros cleared his throat. “It’s my honor to have you fight by my side. At midnight the Snake will come and we must be ready. I am hereby rescinding my father’s ban on magic at the castle, since the Snake himself will surely not abide by it. My father would have no doubt done the same. To get to the castle, the Snake’s army will have to climb over Camelot’s outer gates . . . then cross the broken drawbridge from the cliffs to the royal grounds. We will be magically fortifying the outer gates so no scims can fly over it. All of you will be positioned inside these outer gates to prevent the Snake’s army from using the drawbridge or the temporary rope bridge to get to the castle. My team, meanwhile, will be positioned inside the castle courtyard to protect both the castle and Excalibur. As a last barrier, barrels of boiling oil will be placed atop the towers to ensure none of the Snake’s army can get inside the castle. . . .” Agatha whispered to Sophie: “He’s rushing, but he’s doing okay, isn’t he?” But he wasn’t doing okay and both girls knew it. The crowd was listless, rocking back on their heels, fidgeting with their armor and weapons.

“His army will be made up of pirates, trolls, and other paid mercenaries,” Tedros went on. “Paid loyalties cannot compete with your genuine commitment to our cause. . . .” Sophie could see the allied leaders murmuring to each other, shielding their mouths with their hands. So were the witches, while Anadil’s rats toyed with a dead butterfly. Guinevere glanced back at Agatha, looking nervous.

Sophie whispered to Agatha: “A king is supposed to rally his army, Aggie, not bore them with details and put them to sleep! This isn’t a speech for Class Captain or some school challenge! He has to boil their blood! He has to fire them up! This lot is the only thing between the Snake and all of us dying!” Agatha bit her nails, no longer pretending that this was going well.

In front of them a dwarf yawned.

Tedros kept talking: “Because of the magical barrier, no scims can pass Camelot’s outer gates. Which means the Snake’s army is his only weapon against us—” An ogre in Bloodbrook armor raised his hand. “What’s the Lion gotta say?” Tedros stopped talking.

A thousand soldiers turned away from him and looked to his knight.

Rhian retreated into the shadows.

Sophie could see Tedros taking in the sight of his allies and soldiers, hungry to hear from his knight instead of him, many of them adorned with Lion masks, Lion tattoos, and Lion shirts.

Sophie could see it in Tedros’ face. The way they were all looking at his knight . . . it was almost as if the king wasn’t there.

“Rhian,” said Tedros finally. “Would you like to speak?” The crowd stirred, woken from their sleep.

“Rhian! Rhian! Rhian!” the Sons of the Lion sang.

Others whistled and shouted, “Speech! Speech!”

Rhian scowled, waving this off—

But then Agatha squeezed his arm.

Princess and knight locked eyes.

“Please,” she said. “Help him.”

In that moment, Rhian’s face changed.

“As you wish, milady,” he said softly.

With a deep breath, the knight took the stage and the king fell back, offering Rhian a weak smile.

Rhian stepped cautiously into the spotlight.

The crowd went quiet—a new quiet, as if the air had somehow turned kinetic.

The tan, amber-skinned boy gazed down at his shoes for a moment. Then he looked up, his copper hair shining in the lamplight, his sharp-boned face radiant and calm.

“What is a king?” he said. “To some a figurehead. To some a throne in a castle far above the kingdom where the work is actually done. To many a stuffed shirt or a man of privilege who expects you to fight for him without knowing of your struggles, your toils, and your pain. But not to me. To me, a king is a lighthouse. A guide who can cast his glow across his kingdom and bring every last one of us out of the shadows. A beacon who we can look up to when the world seems lost. A bridge who can unite us when our differences seem too stark to reconcile. Tonight, we need a king who is all of those things. A king who can look each of you in the eye and make you feel that you won’t just fight for him or his kingdom, but you’ll fight for our way of life. Because tonight, we join forces to take on a Snake: not just because he’s attacked our families and our kingdoms, not just because he’s sabotaged the rules and order of our world, not just because he’s too scared to show his face . . . but because he dared us to come together, Good and Evil, and bring forth a hero. A hero that will stand up to him and destroy him like the coward that he is. A hero that will plunge into battle and make sure he has the last blow. That sordid, slippery little Snake looked us in the eyes and dared us to sire a king. And tonight, that king will have his vengeance.” Rhian held up his fist. “To King Tedros!”

“To King Tedros!” the crowd roared, weapons raised, before erupting in warmongering cheers and chants.

Tedros stared at Rhian dumbly from the shadows.

Agatha looked at Sophie with the same expression.

Sophie smiled, her cheeks glowing. “Now that, my darling, was a speech.” An hour before midnight, Tedros’ team and Rhian’s team reunited in the Blue Tower Dining Room over a simple buffet of grilled chicken, cabbage salad, wild rice, and chocolate ice cream. All of them were in chainmail armor that Kiko had scavenged and cleaned and they carried the weapons from the Armory that Hort had repaired.

From the dining room windows, they could see the torches of Camelot’s new army in the distance, lighting up the night sky, as the thousand-plus soldiers barricaded the broken drawbridge within the outer gates.

Tedros took his place at the front of the dining room, the metal of his armor gleaming under a chandelier, Lancelot’s old sword on his belt.

Everyone stopped eating to listen to the king.

“Professor Dovey will arrive soon to place a magical barrier over Camelot’s outer gates. Which means the only way the Snake can get in is if his army gets past ours. Given our size and strength, that will not happen,” he said, trying hard to sound regal after the events in the Hall. “Here’s your assignments. Hort, Beatrix, Reena, Kiko: you’ll be on guard with the soldiers in front of the drawbridge. Hester, Anadil, Dot: you’ll patrol the rope bridge to make sure nothing gets across. Willam and Bogden: you’ll man the barrels of hot oil atop the towers. Rhian and Sophie: you’ll be the first line of defense in front of the castle doors. Agatha and myself will protect Excalibur. Everyone know where they’re supposed to be? Finish eating, then get to your posts.” The room set into motion.

Sophie piddled half of a chicken breast and a bit of cabbage onto her plate. She hesitated, then added a teaspoon of ice cream.

“Ice cream? You must think we’re going to die,” said Tedros, sliding next to her with three hunks of chicken and a mound of rice on his plate.

“You and I might die, but Sophie won’t,” Rhian piped in, having finished eating. “No way will I let anything happen to my girl. Even if she does send her little friends to check up on me.” “What?” Sophie asked, confused.

“Don’t play coy. I know you have Nicola sussing out my ex-girlfriends,” said Rhian.

Mystified, Sophie looked at Tedros.

“Don’t look at me. I heard Nicola too,” said the king.

Sophie remembered what Tedros had said to her back on the ship: “You don’t have to hunt for flaws or dig up dirt on him. . . .” “Well, if there are any demented ex-girlfriends, Nicola certainly hasn’t mentioned them to me,” Sophie puffed, hanging on Rhian’s arm. “So you better come clean before I become a knight’s lady.” “A knight’s lady,” Rhian mused, fingering ice cream off her plate into his mouth. “Such a downgrade from Evil’s queen.” “Then you better find a way to make me feel like a queen,” said Sophie archly.

“Oh, I have some ideas,” Rhian said, dotting ice cream on her nose.

“You’re good at talking, aren’t you?” Sophie said.

“Don’t I know it,” Tedros said flatly. “Made me look like the opening act in front of my army.” “On the contrary, I’d say he honored you and everything you’re fighting for,” said Agatha, joining them, a mountain of ice cream on her plate.

“I know,” said Tedros, forcing a smile. “It’s why I assigned him to guard the castle doors. If the Snake manages to get onto the grounds, I know Rhian will stop him. As long as I get to kill the Snake myself like Rhian promised.” “You have my word,” said Rhian firmly.

The two boys kept talking, while Agatha pulled Sophie aside.

“What’s wrong with Dot?” Agatha asked.

Sophie spotted Dot alone in the corner, separate from Hester and Anadil, sulkily turning her chocolate ice cream to extra-extra chocolate.

“Thinks Hester and Ani let a pirate through during loyalty tests, which is ridiculous, given those two are suspicious of everything,” said Sophie. “But after what happened with her dad and Kei, I think Dot’s just looking for a way to feel useful.” Agatha sighed. “Let me talk to her.”

As her friend left, Sophie could hear Tedros and Rhian— “Where’s your mother?” said Rhian.

“Waiting for Dovey at the outer gates,” said Tedros. “Leaders of the other kingdoms are out there with her. They want to fight alongside their soldiers. I still think you and I should do the same instead of manning the castle.” “And if the Snake gets past the soldiers, then what?” said Rhian.

“No way his army gets past ours. They’re paid mercenaries. Our soldiers fight for a cause,” said Tedros.

“Regardless, you and I need to protect the castle and Excalibur. We’re Camelot’s last stand,” said Rhian.

Tedros looked at him. Then he glanced away. “It’s strange when a king trusts his knight’s judgment more than his own,” he said.

“You don’t mean that,” said Rhian.

Tedros didn’t answer. He moved food around on his plate. “By the way . . . what house were you in at that Foxwood school?” “Arbed House,” said Rhian. “Why do you ask?”

“Figured if Sophie is digging up dirt on you, I should too,” said Tedros, grinning.

“Hey, Sophie—” said Nicola, jolting Sophie back to attention. “I wanted to thank you for sending a letter to my Pa. Even if something happens to me tonight, at least he’ll know I was thinking of him.” “Of course. I am still your Dean after all, even if you’re no longer in my school,” said Sophie, eyeing the first year hawkishly. “Though I might have to send another letter to your father telling him that you’re snooping on the Dean’s boyfriend and pretending that I asked you to do it.” Nicola didn’t flinch. “I wanted to check something. That’s why I lied to Rhian and said what I said. But I was wrong.” “Wrong about what?”

“It’s nothing. If I was right, Merlin would have come back already.” Sophie frowned. “What does Merlin have to do with this?” Nicola didn’t answer, watching Willam and Bogden pass in front of Rhian and Tedros as they got more food.

“Hey, Bogden. Should I still be wary of gifts?” Tedros asked.

Willam and Bogden both turned around.

“Very wary,” said Bogden.

“If you value your life, that is,” said Willam.

“But he has a wedding coming,” said Rhian, nudging Tedros. “He’s going to get a lot of gifts.” “Maybe we should put ‘No Gifts’ on the invitation,” Tedros said, nudging Rhian back.

“Ignore them,” Willam murmured to Bogden, pushing him along. “My brother told me to stay away from Tedros.” “Your brother?” Tedros said, still laughing. “Who’s your brother?” Willam didn’t answer.

“Can I ask you a question?” Nicola said, turning to Sophie. “Do you find the Snake’s attacks . . . odd?” “Odd?” Sophie said. “What do you mean?”

“In storybooks, Evil’s advantage is that it attacks and Good has to defend. That’s the number one rule of Good and Evil. So Evil usually does everything it can to make sure its attacks are a surprise,” said Nicola. “But the Snake always seems to tell us when he’s attacking. We knew he was going to attack the Four Point. We knew he was going to attack Nottingham. We know when he’s going to attack tonight. I mean, what villain gives you a time when he’s coming for you?” Sophie pondered this. “Maybe it’s his way of making sure he gets to fight Tedros himself.” “Maybe,” said Nicola. “But it seems strange somehow . . . artificial, even. Like he’s setting something up.” Sophie peered at her, mind churning—

Professor Dovey suddenly swept into the dining room, her hair a mess, her face tired and gaunt, and a bag on her arm.

“I came as soon as I could,” she said to Tedros. “I did what you asked—I cast a barrier over the outer gates so the scims can’t fly in. It’s a spell the School Master showed Lesso and me to seal the school in a crisis. If Rafal’s sealing of the Sheriff’s sack worked on the Snake, then the barrier is guaranteed to work too—” She coughed, clutching at her throat. “Sorry . . . I’m feeling a bit . . .” “Professor Dovey, you shouldn’t be here!” Nicola said, running up to her. “Merlin sent you a note telling you not to come!” “And Tedros sent me a note saying he needed me,” Good’s Dean countered, turning to the king. “What else can I do to hel—” Her knees buckled, her body starting to slump. Instantly, Tedros seized her waist and propped her up. Sophie and Agatha sprinted to help him.

“I’m okay—I just . . . I just need to sit down—” Professor Dovey stammered.

“I’ll take her into my room,” said Agatha, grabbing her from Tedros.

“I’ll come with you,” said Sophie, taking one of Dovey’s arms.

“I’ll come too—” Tedros started.

“No,” Agatha said to him. “Get the others in position.” Sophie noticed her friend’s voice was unusually harsh, but Agatha’s focus stayed on Good’s Dean, helping her towards the queen’s chamber at the end of the hall.

As soon as Professor Dovey was safely inside, Agatha closed the door. “Tedros should never have sent for you,” she said, laying the Dean on the bed. “And you should have stayed at school like Merlin told you to, Professor.” “When Camelot’s king calls for me, I will always be there,” Professor Dovey rasped, hacking another cough. “It’s this crystal ball. . . . I’ve told Merlin I can’t handle it alone. . . .” She pointed at her bag, half-open. Through the flap, Sophie could see the top of the glowing orb. “I brought it here in case something happens to me.” “Nothing will happen to you,” said Sophie, feeling the Dean’s forehead. “You just have a slight fever. That’s all.” “But no more using this ball until you’re better,” Agatha said, taking the Dean’s bag and slinging it onto her arm.

In the hallway, the clock struck a quarter hour. 11:45. Fifteen minutes left.

“And until you’re better, you’re to stay here and rest,” said Sophie. “Don’t move from this room.” “That’s an order, Professor,” said Agatha—

But Professor Dovey was already snuffling softly, fast asleep.

Sophie blew out the lamp and closed the door.

The two girls slipped onto the Blue Tower balcony, only a short distance from Excalibur, still protected by the glass lockbox, while the fleet of guards usually manning it had been dispatched to the perimeter with the army.

“I’m worried about Dovey,” said Agatha, tucking the Dean’s bag in a corner of the balcony.

“You heard her. It’s that crystal ball. Whatever she’s been doing with it clearly drains her,” said Sophie. “Just keep it away from her and she’ll get better—” “Tedros knew she was ill. He could see it when she appeared on the ship. Why would he make her come all the way here in the dead of night? Why would he risk Professor Dovey’s life?” Agatha harped. “And then that rambling speech in the Hall . . . and going to see Lady Gremlaine instead of taking Lance into Sherwood Forest, where Lance would have been safe . . . and everything that happened at the coronation . . .” Agatha shook her head, a sad look clouding her face. “Maybe you’re right about him.” Sophie stared at her. “Right about what?”

“Don’t make me say it. I know full well you doubt him as a king,” said Agatha. “I believe in Tedros. I really do. I defend him as much as I can. His quest for glory was to be a true king to Camelot. And I want him to succeed. But sometimes . . . sometimes he just doesn’t think like a king. Or act like one. And the fact I’m saying this when my quest was to be his queen . . . well, maybe I’m failing my quest too.” Her focus moved back to Sophie, who’d gone stiff as a board. For a moment, she thought her friend was shocked at her confession—but then she noticed Sophie’s eyes. They weren’t looking at her. They were looking past her.

Slowly Agatha turned.

“It’s five minutes until midnight,” said Tedros, shadowed under the balcony. “Sophie, you should be with Rhian.” “Of course,” Sophie said, giving Agatha a nervous glance before hurrying away.

But Sophie didn’t go to Rhian like she was supposed to. She hid behind the balcony wall and peeked around the edge. . . .

Agatha and Tedros stood together in silence, Excalibur hovering above their heads. In the distance, they could see Dovey’s magical barrier glinting green in the moonlight over the outer gates. Behind the gates, Camelot’s army walled off the drawbridge, while the three witches patrolled the temporary rope bridge. Beneath Agatha and Tedros, Rhian waited in the courtyard, right in front of the castle doors.

“I’m sorry, Tedros,” said Agatha, holding back tears. “I just was worried about Dovey and I got frustrated. I shouldn’t have sai—” “You’re right,” said the king.

Agatha looked at him.

Tedros met her eyes clearly. “It’s why you tried to take over my quest. It’s why you’re always jumping in to help me. Let’s face it, Agatha. You don’t think I’m a good king. And the truth is . . . you’re right. Everything you said about me is right.” Agatha reached out, searching for words. “Tedros—I . . . I . . .” Shouts rose from the outer gates.

Agatha and Tedros turned sharply. So did Sophie.

There was movement on the rope bridge . . . shadows barreling towards the three witches in charge of defending it . . .

Then suddenly, Anadil, Hester, and Dot were fleeing back across it, onto the castle grounds, along with a crush of soldiers jamming onto the rope bridge, which swayed and teetered under their weight.

Tedros’ eyes flared. He sprinted past Sophie, calling for Rhian, Agatha chasing behind him— Sophie ran out onto the balcony and watched the rope bridge snap between the gates and the courtyard, sending dozens of soldiers plunging into the Savage Sea below.

Booms echoed nearby from the broken drawbridge, sealed between the gates.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The drawbridge smashed open, battered down by desperate soldiers, who stampeded across its splintered planks towards the castle. Sophie could see Reena, Beatrix, Hort, Guinevere, and panicked leaders of allied kingdoms bolting into the courtyard, along with the rest of Tedros’ army— Sophie gasped.

Because now she could see what everyone was running from.

Scims were stabbing the army from behind, razor-sharp at both ends, impaling bodies and then whipping around and spearing them through the front, like killing machines. They moved so quickly and brutally, each one with a life of its own, that the soldiers didn’t stand a chance. They fled in droves as scims slashed through Camelot’s defense, before the eels started veering sharply towards the castle.

Shell-shocked, Sophie looked up at Dovey’s shield over the outer gates . . . completely intact.

In a flash, Sophie was scrambling down the stairs, as soldiers’ screams tore through the courtyard, along with the scims’ searing shrieks— It’s impossible, she thought. The barrier over the gates . . . He couldn’t get through. . . . He was supposed to need an army. . . .

Which left only one explanation.

He didn’t need an army.

Because he didn’t need to get through the gates.

Sophie’s heart thundered.

The Snake had been inside all along.