فصل 28

28

AGATHA

The Princess and the King

Tedros met her eyes.

“And the truth is . . . you’re right,” he’d said. “Everything you said about me is right.” Agatha struggled under his gaze, searching for words.

But a warning pounded in her head.

“I’ve already told you how this story will end. With your fairy tale shattered . . . With everything you thought true turned untrue . . .” Six months ago, she and Tedros thought their story had ended. They’d been off to Camelot Castle, destined to restore it to glory as queen and king. Good had won, Evil vanquished, with the success of their quests a foregone conclusion.

But now they were atop that castle, admitting they hadn’t won after all. That their quests to be that glorious king and queen had failed, no matter how much they loved each other. The End wasn’t The End at all . . . but the beginning of something thornier, twistier, where every truth about her and Tedros’ love story suddenly seemed untrue, just like the Snake had promised.

Was this the final crack in her and Tedros’ fairy tale? A fairy tale that would shatter forever?

Were the Snake’s Lies really the Truth?

Agatha looked at her prince. “Tedros . . . I . . . I . . .” Shouts exploded near the outer gates.

It happened so fast.

Drawbridge smashing down . . . the witches fleeing across the bridge . . . the scims stabbing soldiers from behind, before the eels turned and flew towards the castle . . .

“RHIAN!” Tedros yelled as he dashed from the balcony and down the stairwell to find his knight, while Agatha chased him, her heart slamming.

“Dovey’s barrier—it’s still intact—” she called out. “He was inside the gates all along!” “RHIAN!” Tedros yelled again, leaping down stairs as he drew Lance’s sword from his belt.

How did the Snake get in? Agatha thought, trying to keep up with her prince.

But there was no time to think. She and Tedros dashed out of the archway and into the courtyard, only to see a slew of scims shoot for their heads— Someone tackled Tedros and Agatha to the ground, making the scims miss, before the eels circled around and savagely killed a dwarf right in front of them.

Agatha lifted her head from the dirt as Rhian grabbed her and Tedros and pulled them both into an archway behind a stone pillar, where Sophie was already hiding.

Across from them, Hester, Anadil, and Dot crouched behind a second column, with Beatrix, Reena, Nicola, and Hort’s man-wolf behind a third. Reena had a gash in her thigh, her shield dented. Hort let out a growl of pain as he ripped a spasming scim out of his calf muscle and crushed it in his hairy palm.

Agatha peeked out from the pillar to see the once-quiet field in front of the castle turned into a deathzone, with soldiers trampling each other across muddy grass, desperately seeking cover in the dark while scims stabbed them left and right. A Son of the Lion took a scim to the arm a few yards in front of Agatha before one of his friends yanked him behind a bush.

“They’re going to find us. All of us,” Beatrix said, watching scims easily take down a giant before they went off to search for fresh prey.

“We have to kill as many as we can,” Rhian urged. “The scims are his armor. We can strip it away. Kill enough of them and he’s nothing but flesh and blood.” “We need fire! It’s the only way to kill them!” said Agatha.

“Where will we get enough fire to kill that many scims?” Sophie retorted.

Tedros jolted straight. “From oil.”

He spun to Rhian. “Cover me.”

Rhian took Reena’s shield and blocked Tedros as the two boys moved towards the courtyard. As soon as Tedros was out from under the archway, he tilted his head upwards and whistled between two fingers— Bogden and Willam peeped over the edge of a Blue Tower balcony, their bodies hidden behind a fortress of barrels.

“Use the oil!” Tedros called as Rhian smashed scims away.

“How?” said Bogden.

“How?” Tedros barked.

“No one told us!” said Willam.

Tedros seethed. “It’s oil! Just take it and—”

Rhian snatched Tedros by the arm and flung him back behind the pillar.

“Why’d you do that!” Tedros berated, starting to get up again— He froze still.

Four scims peeked around the side of the pillar at him, Agatha, Sophie, and Rhian. Their sharp, eyeless tips squiggled with glee, before they looked past the king’s group and saw Hester’s and Hort’s teams across the archway. The scims murmured high-pitched gurgles, taking in the bounty of flesh. They hewed together like a single arrow, drifting between targets, as if they couldn’t decide who to kill first. . . .

Then they flew at Tedros.

“Tedros, move!” Agatha gasped, shoving him left just as Rhian shoved him right, trapping Tedros straight in the scims’ path— A gush of amber liquid suddenly slopped down from above, drenching the eels and splashing to the ground.

The scims looked up, startled. So did Tedros.

Bogden and Willam gaped down between pillars. “Bogden thought we’re supposed to pour it,” said Willam.

Tedros groaned.

But now the oil-soaked scims had turned back to the king, their lethal tips glowing green. They slashed towards him— Tedros lunged forward with his gold fingerglow just as the scims hit his chest, and with a lion’s roar, he swiped his fingertip across them, setting the eels aflame.

Instantly the scims detonated into a fireball, shrieking and sizzling before they crumbled into dirt.

Anadil’s three rats set upon them, scarfing them up like they were crisped bacon.

The entire group slumped with relief.

Rhian squeezed Tedros’ shoulder. “Good thinking, Your Highness.” Tedros glanced at Agatha. “Occasionally I can think like a king.” Agatha flinched. “Tedros—”

“Sorry to interrupt your drama but we’re still about to die,” Sophie said as more scims shot through a seven-foot nymph in front of them. Somewhere Kiko screamed. “Tedros might have killed a few scims, but how do we kill the rest!” “Brains,” said Hester, eyeing Anadil.

“Talent,” said Anadil, eyeing Hester.

The witches turned to Sophie. “Neither of which you have,” said Anadil. She snapped her fingers and her three black rats hopped onto her shoulders.

“Rats?” Sophie sniped as Anadil whispered to her pets. “That’s what’s supposed to save us—” Anadil’s red eyes sliced through her. “Watch.”

The rats jumped off her shoulders and cannonballed into the puddle of oil like pigs into mud, slathering every inch of their fur, gulping up mouthfuls of it and hissing gleefully. . . .

Then they took off, scrambling up soldiers’ bodies and onto their heads. They whipped their rat tails and sprayed oil onto any scims within reach, before leaping to the next soldier’s head like a landing pad, dousing eels as they flew. Like stealth trapeze artists, they swung across the battlefield, twirling and tumbling and shaking out their fur to make sure every scim got a flick of oil, careful not to wet the soldiers. Agatha’s eyes tried to keep up with them in the night sky, ping-ponging in and out of torchlight like kamikaze fairies. Locked in battle with Camelot’s army, the scims didn’t notice three tiny furballs silently crisscrossing the air above as they executed spiral death drops and aerial dives, squeezing every last drop of oil from their bodies onto eels and spraying them with whatever they’d gargled in their mouths . . . until at last, their work was done and they collapsed exhausted and reeking in their master’s lap.

Agatha and the rest of the group blinked at the rats.

“Now what?” Sophie said, unimpressed.

Hester glared. “Now it’s my turn.”

With a searing cry, the demon on Hester’s neck flew off her skin, grazing Sophie’s cheek as he whizzed towards the battlefield, inflating to red-skinned, full-blooded life. Conjuring glowing firebolts from his mouth, he hurled them at unsuspecting scims, igniting the oil and combusting the eels to ashes.

Soldiers ducked in shock as flame-bombs exploded all around them like a fireworks show, scims’ screams multiplying until they were all Agatha could hear.

Rhian and Tedros looked at each other, then whirled to the group— “Let’s go!” said Tedros.

The crew charged into battle behind the king and knight, who hacked at flaming scims with their swords. Bleeding and struggling with a limp, Hort’s man-wolf snatched scims out of the air and let out savage roars as he tore the eels apart. Sophie slit blazing scims open with a dagger she’d swiped off the ground; Beatrix and Reena shot them through with bows and arrows; Hester and Anadil ran to help Kiko, tormented by a burning scim that had yet to die, while Nicola wielded Reena’s dented shield like a frying pan at her father’s pub and smashed scims to pieces. . . .

But Agatha still hadn’t moved from the archway. She’d never fought without magic nor used a sword before. She didn’t have Tedros’ strength or Rhian’s skills or Sophie’s Evil.

But neither did Nicola or Hort or Dot.

They had something else to fight with, she realized, her heart thumping like a war-drum. The same thing that had fueled her in every war against Evil.

Her friends.

She grabbed a pickaxe from a fallen dwarf and stormed into the fight, chopping scims out of the air and spinning round to bludgeon more. Burning scims came from every direction like falling comets, streaking at Good’s future queen. Over and over she took them down with vicious yells, spraying the air with firedust, until Agatha was bent over and heaving, with no more scims to kill. Slowly she rose, her axe over her shoulder, her face smeared with ooze, her hair matted to her head. The rest of the group gathered at her side, looking out at a field awash in bodies and mist. Wounded soldiers stirred; others looked out from their hiding places, stunned to still be alive.

Agatha turned to Tedros, who stood by Rhian’s side, their arms on each other’s shoulders, gazing blearily into the distance. . . .

Then the king and knight went rigid.

Agatha followed their eyes.

Out of the smoke and embers came the Snake, his suit of scims shredded from top to bottom, revealing the young, mortal flesh of his pale chest and legs. Blood and bruises covered his milk-white skin, his body weakened by the death of his armor. But the Snake lived, moving towards them with clear purpose, his emerald eyes honed in on Tedros through his green mask, still intact.

He stopped ten feet from the king.

Excalibur shimmered in its lockbox above their heads.

“Hello, Brother,” said the Snake.

“I’m not your brother,” Tedros spat, lit up with rage. “I’m the Lion who kills the Snake. I’m the king who will bring your head to my people. I’m the real king.” “Are you?” said the Snake, his stare hard and cold. “Time will tell.” Tedros stepped forward. “You’re out of time.”

The king stripped off his armor, revealing his bare, golden chest. He threw Lancelot’s sword aside.

“No magic. No weapons,” he said. “We end this tonight.” “Tedros, no!” Agatha said, seizing his arm.

He pushed her away, glowering at the Snake. “You and me.” The Snake stepped forward, torchlight casting shadows on his rippled torso.

“You and me,” said the Snake.

“Witches, mark it,” Tedros ordered.

Anadil’s rats sprinted around the two boys, dripping oil. Hester’s demon set the ring aflame.

“He doesn’t fight fair—” Agatha insisted to Tedros.

Tedros didn’t listen.

“On your signal,” he said to the Snake.

“Younger brother first,” the Snake cooed.

Tedros gnashed his teeth. “Now.”

They launched at each other like gorillas, chests slamming, before Tedros gripped the Snake by the neck and bashed him face-first to the ground inside the ring of fire. The king punched him in the head, Tedros’ fist crunching loudly against the Snake’s green scales, connecting with the flesh beneath it. The Snake struggled onto his side, then stabbed out his leg, hitting Tedros’ sternum and knocking him backwards, dangerously close to the flaming ring.

Agatha clasped Rhian’s arm. “You have to help him—” Rhian didn’t move. “I made a promise,” he said. “This is his fight.” The Snake lunged forward and clobbered the king, clawing at Tedros’ face, opening up bloody scratches. Tedros swung his arm around his opponent’s throat, driving him into the ground, before the Snake thrust his hips and kneed Tedros in the gut, taking the king down.

Agatha watched in horror as Tedros weathered blows from the deadly villain, while her friends looked on anxiously from outside the ring. Together, they could destroy the Snake. They outnumbered him ten to one! It didn’t matter what Tedros wanted. Not when he might die.

She lurched towards the ring, about to bound over the low flames— Rhian snagged her back.

“His fight,” he said.

The two were on top of each other now, wrestling for dominance, Tedros hammering at the Snake’s chest as the Snake lay flat on him, squeezing the king’s throat. The Snake strangled Tedros harder and the king started to choke, his punches weakening. The Snake took advantage, slamming Tedros in the face with his fist, swelling the king’s eye and opening up a spigot of blood. Tedros writhed, struggling to free himself from the Snake’s deathgrip— “No!” Agatha cried, trying to break from Rhian’s grasp— The king turned blue, wheezing for his last breaths. . . .

Tedros shoved his palm onto the Snake’s face and with a stifled cry, he muscled the green-mask backwards, the king grunting desperately, about to pass out, until at last Tedros managed just enough space between their bodies. . . .

He jammed his boot against the Snake’s ribs and crushed him as hard as he could.

The Snake toppled backwards and fell close to the flames— In a flash, Tedros was on him, gasping for breath, punching the Snake again and again.

“That’s for Chaddick,” he said, belting him.

“That’s for Lancelot,” he said, walloping him harder.

“That’s for Lady Gremlaine.”

“That’s for the Lady of the Lake.”

Blood seeped through the scales of the Snake’s mask, his body listless.

“That’s for me,” said Tedros, delivering the hardest punch of all.

He stopped to take a breath—

The Snake kicked him in the chest, sending Tedros flying out of the ring, his bare back grazing the flames and searing red.

Tedros landed in dirt, bloodied, bruised, and burned.

Agatha rushed to his side.

“Tedros—”

He was still breathing.

Slowly he lifted his muddy head and looked past his princess to the Snake in the ring. The green-masked villain hadn’t moved, still flat on his back, surrounded in a pool of blood.

Agatha remembered Chaddick posed the same way in a painting. The first page of a fairy tale that was now about to end.

“Come and kill me, little boy,” the Snake rasped. “Come and kill your brother.” Tedros staggered up, but his legs buckled and he fell back. He tried again— Agatha stopped him.

“Let . . . me go . . . Agatha,” he panted, blood streaming.

“He’ll kill you!” said his princess.

Tedros struggled against her, but she held him down. “This is . . . my . . . quest,” he snarled. “Let me . . . finish it.” “Stay down. You’re losing too much blood,” Agatha said— She saw the Snake’s body shift, starting to rise once more.

Agatha locked eyes with Tedros’ knight.

“Rhian,” she said firmly.

The knight didn’t move.

“I have to kill him,” said Tedros, pushing against his princess.

Agatha held him down, her gaze on the knight.

Still Rhian didn’t budge.

“This isn’t a choice, Rhian. I’m ordering you,” said Agatha sharply. “I’m ordering you as your queen.” This time Rhian blinked.

“As you wish, milady,” the knight said.

Tedros glanced between them, suddenly understanding.

“No! I’m the king. . . . He’s mine. . . .” Tedros fought— But Rhian was already walking into the ring.

The copper-haired boy slammed the Snake back down to the ground and put his foot on the Snake’s pallid chest.

“By order of the queen, I sentence you to die,” said Rhian.

The Snake quivered under his boot—

Rhian bent over, took the Snake’s head in both hands, and wrenched it hard, snapping his neck.

The Snake jerked one final time . . . then went still.

Fires cooled around the ring. Smoke blew across the Snake’s dead body.

Tedros slumped limply in Agatha’s arms.

Dazed soldiers converged on the courtyard littered with wounded bodies and scims. The allied leaders emerged from the gatehouse, along with Guinevere, to see the king and knight still alive and the Snake dead.

The depleted army unleashed a cry of victory. Over their heads, Willam and Bogden rang the bell in the Blue Tower, which echoed down to the city, where bells tolled in response and a cheer resounded, signaling that the people of Camelot knew the Snake had been killed.

Here in the field, the cheers fell away as everyone realized Tedros was still on the ground. Together they circled the wounded king.

Rhian kneeled beside Agatha, helping her hold Tedros’ body.

But the king’s eyes stayed on his princess.

“He was mine. . . . He was mine . . . ,” Tedros breathed, again and again.

Agatha touched his face. “You’re still alive, Tedros. That’s what matters. It could have been a trick.” She held him closer. “I was protecting you.” Tedros resisted. “But you didn’t protect me. You held me back. You always hold me back,” he said, looking right at her. “You don’t have faith in me, Agatha. You stop me from being a king. Don’t you see?” He blinked through blood and tears.

“The only trick is you.”

The words hit Agatha like a stone. Her hands let go of him, ceding his body to the knight.

That is where the princess and the king ended.

Because the people of Camelot were already flooding through the gates, expecting a celebration.

By sunrise, the royal grounds were filled with Evers and Nevers from all over the Woods, eager to see the dead Snake and the Lion who killed him.

Still filthy and covered in blood and ooze, Agatha crouched behind a pillar near the balcony to eavesdrop on the people beneath.

“So-called King ain’t so-called anymore, ain’t he?” said a man proudly. “Beat the Snake with ‘is bare fists.” “Lion killed him, though,” said his friend.

“King already beat him to nothin’.”

“Lion finished him. All that matters.”

Agatha stopped listening.

She rose to her feet and looked back into the castle’s sitting room across the hall, where Sophie and Rhian were treating Tedros’ wounds.

“This is going to hurt,” said Rhian, standing over Tedros, who was shirtless and facedown on the couch, his back red-hot from the burns.

Tedros bit into a pillow and his knight spread salve on his skin while Sophie held the king down. Tedros let out a stifled roar, his teeth tearing the pillow to feathers, before his yells muted to groans and he let his two friends wrap him with gauze.

Agatha watched Sophie and Rhian take care of Tedros the way she should be.

“Something must be wrong when Good’s greatest helper isn’t helping,” said a voice.

She turned to see Guinevere next to her, dressed all in white, watching her son with Sophie and Rhian.

“I think I’ve helped Tedros enough for now,” Agatha said softly.

“You did what you had to do, Agatha. You kept my son alive.” “And yet he hates me for it,” said Agatha, tears flowing.

“Because the Snake was his to kill,” said Guinevere. “Not for his own pride. But for his people. Tedros needed to be the king, no matter the cost, even to the end if need be. You took that from him.” “But I didn’t want him to end up like Lancelot,” Agatha argued, smearing at her eyes. “I didn’t want him to die. Surely you understand that!” “More than you can ever imagine,” said Guinevere starkly. “I didn’t want Lancelot to die, Agatha. Of course I didn’t. And yet I asked him to go into the Woods with Tedros, knowing he might.” Agatha shook her head. “But you just said I did what I had to do. . . . So which is it? Which is more important? Keeping Tedros alive or letting him be a king when he might die for it?” Guinevere smiled sadly. “Welcome to being a queen.” She touched Agatha’s shoulder and walked inside.

A short while later, Agatha returned to the sitting room, bathed and dressed in a black gown, with Professor Dovey’s bag on her arm.

Tedros stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his father’s old coronation robes while Rhian changed into his blue-and-gold suit.

“God, this thing smells even worse than the first time I wore it,” said Tedros, fussing with the collar, clearly trying not to look at his battered face in the reflection.

“It’s just for a short while,” said Agatha.

The king glanced at his princess in the mirror. “You sound like my mother,” he said coolly.

He went back to Rhian. “You’re sure you tried to get the Snake’s mask off? There’s no way to see who he is?” “The scims are both his armor and part of him somehow,” Rhian answered. “He sent the scims on his body to fight us, but the ones that make up his mask can’t be dislodged. His face is melded with them. Hard to tell where the magic begins and the human ends.” “Well, as long as both the magic and human are dead,” said Tedros. He stared hard at Rhian. “Since you’re the one who killed him.” “As I was ordered, Your Highness,” Rhian said stiffly, his eyes darting to the future queen. “My men will present his body to the people at the ceremony.” Agatha waited for Tedros to say something to her.

He didn’t even look in her direction.

“Why are you lurking?” Sophie said to Agatha, sidling next to her at the back of the room.

Agatha frowned at Sophie’s shimmering pink princess dress. “I thought you were done with pink.” Sophie eyed Agatha’s black one. “Pot. Kettle,” she said. “Oh come now, Aggie. I know I said I don’t wear pink anymore, but surely even a girl like me is allowed to feel like a princess. For one day, at least.” “He certainly is a prince,” Agatha murmured, watching Rhian put cream on a gash near Tedros’ eyebrow.

Sophie tapped the bag on her friend’s shoulder. “Dovey’s crystal ball?” “Found it untouched where I left it, thank goodness. Did Dovey really sleep through the entire battle?” “I think we’re lucky she woke up at all this morning, given what she looked like last night,” said Sophie soberly. “Dovey claimed it’s that ball that’s been sapping her strength. Whatever you do, keep it away from her.” “Where is she?”

“Getting the crew ready for the celebration. Dovey insists the Nevers be as presentable as the Evers in deference to the king. Which is taking some work, to say the least.” Agatha snorted half-heartedly. Sophie rested an arm on her shoulder as they watched the boys.

“Will we exchange gifts in front of the people?” Rhian was asking Tedros. “As king and knight, I mean?” “We won our battle, didn’t we?” said Tedros. “Besides, can’t deny a boy who grew up jabbing pillows with spoons and rehearsing for this moment his whole life. With all that preparation, your gift better be a good one.” “My gift I know you’ll like,” said Rhian thoughtfully. “It’s your gift I’m concerned about.” “Very funny,” Tedros said, elbowing him.

“Tedros?” Sophie asked.

The king turned.

“Are you going to try to pull Excalibur again?” she said. “At the celebration, I mean?” Tedros considered this for a long moment. “The Snake is dead. The people of Camelot are happy. The Woods are safe once more. Excalibur will have its day,” he said. “Just not today.” He smiled warmly at Sophie and Rhian . . . then at Agatha.

“See, darling?” Sophie whispered to Agatha. “You two are going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” Agatha didn’t answer.

Because from the way Tedros smiled at her, Agatha was thinking very much the opposite.

The door flew open and Merlin shambled in, his slippers muddy, his cape tattered, and his hat slashed and full of holes.

He took in the scene and grinned, revealing three teeth missing where there’d been teeth before.

“Ah. Just in time,” said the wizard.

“Presenting King Tedros and his royal court!” a courtier announced.

The crowd unleashed a roar as Tedros and Rhian emerged onto the Blue Tower balcony, followed by Agatha, Sophie, Guinevere, and Merlin. Tedros and Rhian took their places in front of the archway with Excalibur trapped in its stone, while Agatha and the others stood off to the side behind them. Agatha could see from the crowd’s dress and colors that it was composed overwhelmingly of citizens from beyond Camelot, many wearing Lion masks, holding Lion banners, chanting, “LION! LION! LION!” Tedros raised Rhian’s fist in his and they soaked in the ovation together.

Agatha made sure to stand next to Merlin, accidentally smacking him with Dovey’s bag as she did.

“That crystal ball shouldn’t be in your hands, Agatha,” said the wizard.

“Well, it shouldn’t be in Professor Dovey’s hands either, with what it’s done to her.” “Then swear to me it will stay in your hands and no one else’s, until you return it to her,” Merlin said, glaring.

“Fine,” said Agatha.

“Swear it!” Merlin demanded.

“I swear! Happy now?” Agatha said, exasperated. “Where have you been? You look terrible.” “I’ve always appreciated your candor, Agatha,” the wizard replied dryly. “I wish I could be as candid about my own travels, but the perils I’ve endured have served little purpose. It appears the king has found a happy ending all on his own.” Agatha watched Tedros and his knight wearing matching smiles and waving to the people.

“Though maybe your ending is the one I should be concerned about,” the wizard said.

Agatha saw Merlin’s blue eyes peering at her suspiciously. She looked away.

Sophie touched her from the other side. “Look at them, Aggie,” she said, watching Tedros and Rhian hand in hand. “Who knew two boys could be best friends like us?” Agatha mustered a smile.

“You sure you’re okay?” Sophie said, studying her.

Thankfully that’s when Tedros started his speech.

“Today I stand here as your king on a proud day for Camelot and a proud day for the Woods,” he said, amplified by one of Merlin’s white stars. “Under siege by a villain who threatened our way of life, we came together to stop him: Camelot and the Woods, Good and Evil, Ever and Never. Not just with our army built from my kingdom and yours, but also with a loyal group of friends at my side. Friends whose fairy tale the Storian is writing as we speak. And when that tale ends at the close of this celebration, the pen will have told the story of a team of peers who gave up their own quests for glory to set off on a bigger and more dangerous one. A team who not only succeeded in that quest, but achieved a glory bigger than any one of them might have attained on their own. People of Camelot, People of the Woods: I present to you, Dean Clarissa Dovey of the School for Good, and the crew of the Igraine!” Professor Dovey came out onto the balcony to a hearty greeting from the masses, looking rested, refreshed, and more like her old self. At her side were Beatrix, Reena, and Kiko in three of Guinevere’s old gowns, along with Willam and Bogden, hair combed and smartly dressed in starched shirts that Dovey must have borrowed from Tedros’ closet. Together, they took their place behind Agatha, Sophie, Guinevere, and Merlin.

Tedros waited for the last three members of the crew to emerge.

The archway stayed empty, Excalibur glinting silently from its glass box overhead.

Professor Dovey pulled her wand from her pocket and shot a spell through the archway. A collective yelp echoed, followed by Hester, Anadil, and Dot shuffling onto the balcony in pastel-colored dresses, their hair curled and primped like poodles’.

Agatha gaped at them.

“Dovey said it was a condition for us to go back to our old quest and look for a School Master,” Hester mumbled.

Tedros cleared his throat, returning to the crowd. “Whenever my father had a great victory in battle, he invited the people onto the grounds of the castle to share in that victory. Just as he once brought back the body of the Green Knight for all of you to see, today we, too, have proof that a terrible villain will never harm our Woods again.” The crowd stirred with anticipation.

“Behold,” Tedros declared, “the Snake is dead!” Four guards in full knight’s armor and helmets marched through the archway at Rhian’s direction, carrying the Snake’s body on a plank.

The crowd erupted in its biggest cheer yet, as Tedros and Rhian took the plank and raised the Snake’s blood-spattered corpse over the balcony for all the Woods to see.

Agatha saw Rhian make eye contact with Sophie, giving her a loving wink. Tedros, meanwhile, kept his focus on the crowd, not even glancing Agatha’s way.

All the while, Agatha could hear the witches behind her.

“Difference between Evers and Nevers is we don’t showboat for applause,” Anadil grumbled.

“Because what we care about is getting the work done,” said Hester. “Can’t wait to get back to School Master interviews.” “You sure we can’t convince Rhian to be School Master?” said Dot. “Look at how he is with Sophie. They definitely don’t want to be apart.” “Dot’s right. Long-distance relationships never work. Plus he’d have a lot more power as a School Master than as a knight,” said Anadil. “Besides, I can’t think of a better candidate, Hester. Can you?” “He’s already proven he can bring Good and Evil together,” Dot appealed to Hester. “Dovey loves him. And Sophie listens to him. Around him, she’s calmer, nicer, and less of a lunatic. What more could you ask for in a School Master?” For once, Hester didn’t argue with them. “Maybe we’re at the end of our quest after all,” she said finally.

“Does this mean I have to go back to teaching history?” said Hort.

“Does this mean I have to go back to being a first year?” said Nicola.

The group snickered.

“Dovey’s assigning my team a new quest to be a peacekeeping force near the Four Point,” said Kiko.

“Dovey’s sending me and Reena to help rebuild Jaunt Jolie after what the pirates did to it,” said Beatrix.

“It’ll be strange not being all together anymore,” said Hort. “Coming on this quest felt like school again. Only this time I actually liked you guys.” “We’ll all be at Agatha’s and Tedros’ wedding, won’t we?” said Nicola.

“That we will,” said Hester.

Silence ensued and Agatha could feel the group’s eyes on her, while she pretended not to be listening.

Sophie had certainly been listening, though, because she squeezed Agatha’s wrist and whispered to her: “As long as they’re not in any of the wedding portraits.” Agatha gave her a look.

“I’m your wedding planner,” said Sophie. “Clarissa might have made them all look like wet farm animals, but you can be assured I’ll be dressing them myself.” In front of the girls, the guards reclaimed the Snake’s body from the king and knight and held it off to the side as the ceremony continued.

“And now for our final tradition that comes at the end of every victory. The exchange of gifts between king and knight,” Tedros announced to the people. “In so many of his battles, my father fought alongside his greatest knight, Sir Lancelot du Lac. Lancelot was killed at the hands of the Snake, but his legend will live on.” He looked at his mother. “Not only in the hearts of those who loved him most, but also in the spirit of a new knight. I have a Lancelot of my own in Rhian of Foxwood, a knight who will fight with me for the rest of my life. I may be the Lion of Camelot and your king, but Rhian is my Lion and thus has earned the name as well. Rhian, please address the people you so bravely serve.” “LION! LION! LION!” the people bellowed.

Tedros put Merlin’s white star under Rhian’s suit collar, so his voice could be heard.

“I do hope Rhian gives Tedros something suitable,” Sophie whispered to Agatha. “You can always judge a man by his gifts.” Rhian stepped to the balcony. “It is no easy feat to think of a gift for King Tedros of Camelot. So as inspiration, I looked to the gift that Sir Lancelot always gave King Arthur at the close of a winning battle. The knight would kneel before a lady of Arthur’s court and offer his tribute to her. As I stand before Arthur’s son, I, too, would like to offer my tribute to a lady of his court.” He turned towards Agatha and sank to one knee.

Agatha blushed.

“Oh, Aggie,” Sophie breathed. “How chivalrous—” “Sophie,” Rhian said, his eyes shifting to her. “Will you step forward?” Sophie glanced at Agatha, surprised. Tedros looked equally confused.

“Go,” Agatha whispered.

Sophie obeyed and stepped towards the knight.

Rhian looked up at her, his face warm in the sunlight.

“Sophie of Woods Beyond . . .”

He opened his palm, revealing a glittering diamond ring.

“Will you marry me?” the knight asked.

Agatha and Tedros drew the same stunned breath. Merlin and Professor Dovey exchanged wide stares, as did the group of students behind them.

The crowd had gone completely still.

But no one was as shocked as Sophie, who had turned the color of a rose, unable to move.

Then, a light rushed into her cheeks, the moment dawning on her, and she leapt into his arms— “Yes,” she gasped. “A thousand times, yes!”

In an instant, she was off the ground, as Rhian picked her up off her feet and kissed her passionately.

“I love you, Sophie,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Rhian,” she said, wiping tears. She shook her head, still in a stupor, and looked out at the crowd. “We’re getting married!” she shrieked.

A single hurrah shattered the silence. Then like a wave of love, the mob let loose an adoring cheer, chanting Sophie’s and Rhian’s names as they kissed again and again. . . .

Tedros stepped back between Agatha and Merlin, baffled.

“Lancelot always gave his gift to the king’s queen. A tribute to the queen is a tribute to the king. That’s the point,” Tedros said to the wizard. “But Sophie isn’t the queen. Agatha is.” Merlin frowned slightly. “Well, not yet.”

“I suppose he just wanted to surprise us,” said Tedros, trying to shrug it off. But still he seemed unsettled.

Even so, Agatha felt a tinge of relief, hearing Tedros reaffirm her place as his queen. The relief was followed by guilt that she was obsessing over her own relationship when her best friend had just gotten engaged.

She saw Sophie make eye contact with her and give her a sheepish, blissful smile as Rhian fit the ring on her finger.

Agatha tried to mirror the same smile back.

“Did you happen to ask what house at school Rhian was in?” Merlin asked Tedros casually.

“Arbed House,” said Tedros, looking at him.

Merlin lowered his glasses. “Arbed House? Are you sure?” “Think so. Why?”

“Arbed House is where parents in Foxwood send children they want to hide from the School Master. Children they believe are Evil, despite growing up in Good families. And not just Evil. So Evil they’re a threat to the Woods. So Evil they’re too dangerous to be trained as villains. For a large fee, Dean Brunhilde magically conceals them from the School Master so he never comes to know of their existence. While every other child in the Woods has a file at the School for Good and Evil, these children’s files as prospective students simply disappear. Brunhilde never tells the Arbed students this, of course; she does her best to turn their souls Good. Meanwhile, the students never learn they were meant for great Evil all along.” “But Rhian doesn’t have a drop of Evil in his body. He couldn’t have been sent there,” Tedros scoffed, watching the knight and Sophie still waving to the crowd. “Besides, Dovey checked him and his family out thoroughly. I must have misheard.” Merlin tugged at his beard, his jaw tensed, as if he was trying to find a solution when he didn’t quite know the problem.

“By the way, whose file did Nicola want you to look at?” Tedros asked.

“Kei’s,” said the wizard. “She wanted to know if he and Rhian were in the same class at the Foxwood School for Boys. But there was no record of Rhian at the School for Boys at all. There was one for Kei, however. He was a student at Arbed House. And it seems he had an interesting roommate.” “Who?” said Tedros.

Merlin looked at him. “Aric.”

“Lady Lesso’s son? Kei was roommates with that creep?” said Tedros. “Figures.” Agatha listened to them, a prickly feeling slithering up her spine.

The Snake had been friends with Aric.

Close friends.

That’s what he’d told her and Sophie.

And the Snake clearly knew Kei too, since Kei had acted as his henchman.

Was it just a coincidence that Kei and Aric were roommates?

Or is that how the Snake met them?

Agatha’s heart pumped faster.

Had the Snake been in Arbed House too?

Nobody knew the Snake’s name, after all. Without his name, there was no way to check his file. . . .

But Rhian had been in Arbed House. That’s what he’d told Tedros.

So wouldn’t Rhian have known Aric and Kei as well?

The knight’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts: “Tedros, I believe it’s your turn,” said Rhian, grinning.

Tedros stepped forward and gave his knight a hug to congratulate him. He hugged Sophie too— But Agatha wasn’t watching them anymore. She was watching the armored guards lift the wooden plank with the Snake’s dead body and carry it off the balcony, back into the castle. As they left through the archway bearing Excalibur, one of the guards glanced in Agatha’s direction. His dark eyes met hers through the opening of his helmet . . . the flesh around them peeling from sunburns.

Agatha’s muscles shot up with adrenaline.

Sunburn.

Dot.

Pirate.

In a flash, she was running after the guards. Sophie intercepted her: “Aren’t you going to say congratulations?”—but Agatha was already shoving her aside, sprinting through the archway.

She chased them down the stairs as the guards looked back and saw her coming. Immediately they moved faster, shuttling the Snake’s dead body to the ground floor and turning the corner into a hall that led from Blue Tower to White Tower— Agatha jumped stairs, trying to catch up, as Dovey’s bag and crystal ball banged hard against her arm. She could hear Tedros’ voice resounding from the courtyard— “My dear Rhian, I wish you and Sophie the best for your lives together,” the king proclaimed. “And perhaps more than that, I wish for a double wedding.” The crowd laughed.

“But now it’s my turn to give you a gift,” said Tedros.

Agatha hurtled off the last steps and onto the ground floor, lunging forward after the guards. She hiked up her dress, slipping on the dusty marble, as she turned the corner into the hall, barreling towards the White Tower— Agatha stopped cold.

In the middle of the hall lay the wooden plank the guards had been carrying.

The guards were gone.

So was the Snake’s body.

Dread cut through her heart.

Slowly, Agatha looked up and saw the Snake standing at the end of the long, dark hall.

He leaned against the wall, barechested, his neck unbroken.

He watched her through his green mask.

Then he turned the corner and walked away.

Agatha stood there, frozen to the spot, blood pounding in her ears.

The Snake was alive.

Which meant Rhian hadn’t killed him.

Which meant . . .

“What could I possibly gift a knight who has given more to me and my people than I could ever ask?” Tedros’ voice echoed.

Panic hardened to clarity.

I have to get to Tedros, Agatha thought.

I have to get to Tedros now.

She ran back towards the staircase, then slid around the corner and saw a fleet of armored guards, at least twenty of them, walking up the steps towards the balcony. She was about to call out to them, thinking these guards were on Camelot’s side— Then she saw their boots beneath their steel armor.

Muddy, filthy, black.

With silver tips.

Pirate boots.

Agatha jerked behind the wall before they could spot her.

“My father felt the same way about Lancelot as I do about you,” Tedros was saying. “And he too struggled to find a gift worthy of his knight.” I can’t get to the balcony, Agatha thought, watching the guards head that way. I have to get Tedros’ attention from below it— As the last guards climbed the staircase, she scrambled across the ground floor, through one of the doors leading into the courtyard. She flung it open. Sunlight hit her hard as she charged right into the teeming crowd, jostling past men, women, and children.

“So my father offered Sir Lancelot the world instead,” Tedros’ voice boomed above her. “The same gift I give to you today, Rhian.” Agatha squeezed between bodies, whacking them with Dovey’s bag to get them out of the way, trying to get far enough into the crowd that Tedros could see her.

The clues had been there all along.

The way Rhian had appeared on cue to save them each time the Snake attacked.

The way he had worn the mask of the Lion as if he was playing a part.

The way the terror in the Woods had stopped once the Lion appeared.

The way the Lion had become Tedros’ new knight once the Snake killed the old ones.

The way the Snake had gotten into Camelot before the war had ever begun.

And most of all, that speech the Lion had given about the Snake in the Hall . . .

“He dared us to bring forth a hero. . . . He dared us to sire a king. . . .” Agatha pushed people aside. Someone shoved her to the ground. But she kept moving— “Who’s his Eagle . . . ,” Tedros had mumbled in his sleep. “Who’s his Eagle. . . . Who’s the Snake’s Eagle. . . .” Agatha knew the answer.

The Lion.

The Lion had been in league with the Snake from the beginning. The two of them playing both sides of a story, working towards the same goal.

But this Lion wasn’t just the Snake’s Eagle.

This Lion was the real Snake all along.

Agatha looked up. She was still too far under the balcony, out of Tedros’ sightline.

“My dear Rhian,” said Tedros’ voice, “I offer you anything on this earth that a king can give a man.” Agatha sprung through bodies. She was almost there— “I ask for only one thing,” said Rhian’s voice.

Agatha dove forward and spun around. She finally glimpsed Tedros high above her, smiling at Rhian, as if Tedros knew what Rhian was about to ask of him.

“I ask for the key around your mother’s neck,” said Rhian.

Tedros’ smile erased. He looked utterly confused. “You want the key?” “Tedros!” Agatha shouted.

He didn’t hear her. She jammed through more bodies, trying to get closer to him— But Guinevere had already stepped towards the knight. “He’s asking to keep your sword safe, Tedros,” she said to her son, before turning to Rhian. “You’ve saved my son again and again. Even when choosing your own gift, you think selflessly of him first when you could have asked for anything in the world. You are worthy of Lancelot’s legacy.” She took the necklace with the glass key from her own throat and held it towards Rhian. “And I can think of no one better to protect Excalibur than you, my child.” “No!” yelled Agatha—

Rhian took the key out of Guinevere’s hands.

“TEDROS!” Agatha cried.

This time he heard her.

Tedros met her eyes from the balcony and for a moment had a cold expression, as if yet again she wasn’t standing behind him where she should be . . . as if yet again she was coming between him and his duty as a king. . . .

But then he turned and saw Rhian in the archway, already slipping the key into the lockbox.

Tedros spun back to Agatha and, suddenly, he understood. So did Merlin and Guinevere, following the king’s eyes to his princess in the crowd.

In a flash, Tedros leapt for his knight. So did Tedros’ mother and the wizard, but it was too late— Rhian seized Excalibur with both hands and pulled it smoothly, the blade sliding clean out of the stone without a sound. He turned to the crowd and thrust King Arthur’s sword towards the sun, free at last, the rays of light spearing the steel and spraying across the balcony, blinding Tedros and his court.

For Agatha, everything slowed to half speed. No one seemed to be moving. Not the crowd. Not Tedros nor their friends, who stood there like statues, the sword’s light streaked across them. Not Merlin, Guinevere, or Dovey, who each seemed unable to fathom the sight of a king’s sword in a knight’s hands. And not Sophie, who watched her betrothed brandishing the most powerful sword in the Woods, a dazed smile on her face, before that smile slowly vanished, her eyes moving to Agatha in the mob.

“I am the eldest son of King Arthur, raised in secret and returned to claim my throne,” Rhian declared, his voice as sharp as a whip. “I am the true heir to the throne of Camelot. I am the one true king come to restore this kingdom to glory.” He raised Excalibur to the people like a grail. “I am your Lion!” For a moment, the Evers and Nevers of the Woods were quiet as a tomb, their stares shifting from Tedros to Rhian, caught between two kings.

Citizens of Camelot broke the silence first, reacting first with murmurs and boos. They grew louder, as they rallied to the defense of Arthur’s son, a son they’d known since he was a child— But then it came.

A unified roar from the masses around them.

Masses that outnumbered them, from kingdoms Good and Evil that Tedros had once ignored.

This was the ending they’d been waiting for. This was the Storian’s justice. A king for all kingdoms. A fairy tale finally complete.

“RHIAN THE KING! RHIAN THE KING!” they bellowed, madly waving their Lion masks and signs.

All at once, the gallery of bodies behind Rhian surged into motion— Agatha saw Guinevere grab Tedros, wresting him towards the archway. Dovey snatched Sophie by the wrist, pulling her after them, while Merlin herded the other students— But now a fleet of twenty armored guards marched through the arch, blocking their entry to the castle.

Merlin waved his arm, about to fire a spell, but a guard clubbed him hard over the head with his fists, knocking the wizard to the ground. The other guards captured Guinevere, Dovey, and all the others, leaving only Tedros and Sophie untouched.

“Those loyal to the previous reign cannot be trusted. They’ve done enough harm to Camelot and will do no more,” said King Rhian. “Take them to the dungeons!” Tedros yelled, lunging for his friends, but a guard caught him, as the armored men towed Merlin’s unconscious body and the others into the castle.

“As for you, Tedros of Camelot,” Rhian said, leering at him. “You may have grown up with our father, but I am his son in deeds and in action. I am more his son than you will ever be. Look at you. You ruled your kingdom as an illegal king, uncrowned, untrusted, unwanted. When Camelot wanted a True king, you offered a Lie. When the Woods asked for help, you turned your back. When the Four Point was attacked, you stayed at home. When the Snake had to die, you left it to me. You’ve let your castle rot, your people starve, and the Woods suffer. You are a fraud. A failure. An impostor wearing my crown. If I am the real Lion, then you are the real Snake.” “Rhian—” Tedros gasped from his guard’s grip. “What are you doing—” “What you could never do,” Rhian said, his blue-green eyes tearing into him. “Being a king.” He turned to the crowd. “I hereby declare Tedros of Camelot an enemy of the kingdom and sentence him to death. Take him to the dungeons to await his execution,” he thundered, as the guard tried to pull Tedros into the castle. “And find his so-called queen too!” The crowd roared its approval, drowning out Camelot’s dissenters, as Tedros struggled against his guard— “DEATH TO TEDROS!” shouted one.

“GLORY TO RHIAN!” shouted another.

“GLORY TO THE WOODS!”

Two more guards emerged from the archway. Through one of the guard’s helmets, Agatha could see familiar red tattoos around the eyes. They lashed Tedros’ body in green metal chains.

All the while, Sophie couldn’t move, her body shaking, her skin ghost-pale.

Finally Rhian set his eyes on her.

Sophie whirled towards the archway, but Rhian was on her, wrenching her close to him as he swiveled towards the crowd and raised Sophie’s fist in his.

“Today, Camelot begins a new era of Truth over Lies, with a new king and a new princess, soon to be your queen,” Rhian said, holding Sophie so tight her knuckles turned white. “All of you are invited to the royal wedding to take place one week from today!” Run, Sophie! Agatha thought. Run, now!

But now she saw Sophie looking down at her, terror in her face, her body pivoting slightly so Agatha could see something.

The sword.

Rhian had its tip right against Sophie’s spine.

Either she played the part of his princess or he’d split her open.

Someone grabbed Agatha’s arm—

“She’s here!” a toothless man croaked. “I found her! I found Tedros’ queen!” By the time anyone heard him, Agatha was already running.

She ripped through the gauntlet of bodies towards the castle gates, Dovey’s bag slamming against her. She glanced back, spotting a dozen guards starting to plow through the crowd. Agatha ran and ran, over the broken drawbridge, down the carriage roads, now far out of the sight of the guards. But still she ran, until she was down the hill, catching her breath just long enough to look up at the sunlit castle, where guards took Tedros away as Rhian placed Camelot’s crown upon his own head, Sophie still tight against him. And as a cloud passed over the sun, sending the scene into shadows, the last thing Agatha saw was a new king cast in a golden glow and the old one dragged into the dark by his twisted green chains . . .

The Snake become the Lion and the Lion become the Snake.