Agatha had hoped Robin and his Merry Men would help her. That's why, after she escaped, she ran to Nottingham.
But they didn't.
While the Men remained at Marian's, Agatha came back to Robin's treehouse, hoping to scrounge a few hours of rest before she left at first light.
But she couldn't sleep.
She stashed Dovey's bag in a corner and sat in the doorway, gazing out at the other treehouses, her legs dangling over the edge, brushed by bright purple lotus blossoms quivering in gusts. The wind upended the lanterns too, strung between the treehouses in a rainbow of colors, and forest fairies zipped about setting them right, their wings detonating red and blue like tiny jewels.
The last time Agatha was here, it had all felt so magical and safe, a protective bubble set off from the chaos of real life. But now the whole place felt callow. Insidious, even. Dark things were happening in the Woods and here in Sherwood Forest, purple lotuses luminesced and the houses still glowed bright, their doors wide open.
"I used to be like you," Marian's voice echoed.
Then she'd come here to be with Robin. She'd come here for love. A love that had sealed her off from the world and made time stand still. Isn't that what true loves wanted in the end: to hide away in paradise?
After all, if she and Tedros had hidden away, they never would have had to lead Camelot. If she and Tedros had hidden away, he never would have heard her tell Sophie that he'd failed his quest as king. They'd still have their Ever After. They'd still have their perfect love.
Agatha let out a sigh.
No. That isn't love.
Love isn't locking yourselves in or hiding where everything is perfect.
Love is facing the world and its tests together, even if you fail them.
Suddenly, she felt the need to leave this place right now—to go back into the Woods, no matter how perilous—
But where would she go?
She was so used to taking care of things herself. That's what had made her set off on her quest to find the Snake after Tedros' coronation. She'd done it to help Tedros, of course. But she'd also done it because she trusted herself to solve problems: more than she trusted her prince or her best friend or anyone else.
Only this time, she couldn't work alone. Not with her prince a few days from execution and the whole Woods hunting her and Sophie under Rhian's thumb and Y/n as queen and the rest of her friends trapped in prison. If she tried to work alone, Tedros would die. That's why she'd come here. To forge new alliances. And instead, she'd leave even more alone than before.
The wind turned cold and she glanced back, hoping to find a blanket or quilt—
Something caught her eye in the corner.
A black coat, hanging amongst a sea of green ones in the closet.
As she moved towards it, she saw it was splotched with dried blood . . .
Lancelot's blood.
Tedros had worn the coat the night they'd come to Sherwood Forest to bury the knight along with Lady Gremlaine. He must have left it here when he'd changed clothes for their dinner at Beauty and the Feast . . .
Agatha clutched the coat in both hands and put it to her face, inhaling her prince's warm, minty scent. For a half-second, it made her feel calm.
Then it dawned on her.
This could be the last she ever had of him.
Her heart kickstarted, that helpless feeling returning—
Then her hands felt something stiff in the coat pocket. Agatha reached in and pulled out a stack of letters, banded together. She flipped through the first few.
"DEAR GRISELLA,
I KNEW THERE'D BE UNDUE ATTENTION ON ME AT SCHOOL, BUT THIS IS ABSURD. I'VE ONLY BEEN HERE A FEW DAYS AND I'M STILL TRYING TO GET MY BEARINGS, YET EVERY EVER AND NEVER IN THE PLACE KEEPS HOUNDING ME, ASKING ME ABOUT HOW I PULLED EXCALIBUR FROM THE STONE AND WHAT BEING KING OF CAMELOT FEELS LIKE AND WHY I'M AT SCHOOL WHEN I SHOULD BE RULING MY KINGDOM. I TELL THEM THE "OFFICIAL" STORY, OF COURSE—THAT MY FATHER WENT TO THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND I WANT TO HONOR HIS LEGACY . . . BUT THE NEVERS DON'T BELIEVE ME. AT LEAST THEY DON'T KNOW THE TRUTH—THAT THE PROVISORY COUNCIL ONLY APPROVED MY CORONATION ON THE CONDITION THAT I RECEIVE A FORMAL EDUCATION (AKA HAVE TIME TO "GROW UP" BEFORE I RULE). BUT I DON'T INTEND TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY OWN STAFF WON'T LET ME BE KING UNTIL I GRADUATE THIS PLACE. AND NOT ONLY GRADUATE, BUT GRADUATE TOP OF THE CLASS AND WITH A SUITABLE QUEEN-TO-BE PICKED OUT. I FEEL OVERWHELMED, HONESTLY. I CAN BARELY CONCENTRATE ON MY CLASSES. YESTERDAY, I BOTCHED PROFESSOR SADER'S QUIZ ON THE HISTORY OF CAMELOT. THAT'S RIGHT: I FAILED A TEST ON MY OWN KINGDOM—"
"DEAR GRISELLA,
THE DAYS AT SCHOOL ARE LONG AND DIFFICULT (ESPECIALLY YUBA THE GNOME'S CLASS IN THE BLUE FOREST—HE SWATS ME WITH HIS STAFF WHENEVER I MISS AN ANSWER AND I MISS PLENTY). BUT YOUR LETTERS FROM THE CASTLE HAVE GIVEN ME GREAT COMFORT AND REMIND ME OF OUR LIVES AT SIR ECTOR'S BEFORE I WAS KING, WHEN WE STARTED EACH DAY KNOWING EXACTLY WHAT WAS EXPECTED OF US—"
"DEAR GRISELLA,
I'VE BEEN PICKED FOR THE TRIAL BY TALE! EVEN THOUGH MY NEW FRIENDS LANCELOT AND GUINEVERE BOTH PLACED AHEAD OF ME. GUINEVERE I CAN UNDERSTAND (SHE'S BRILLIANT), BUT LANCELOT? HE'S GREAT FUN, BUT NOT THE SHARPEST SWORD IN THE ARMORY. NEEDLESS TO SAY, I'M FEELING THE SPIRIT OF COMPETITION MORE THAN EVER. IF THE NEW KING OF CAMELOT DOESN'T WIN THE TRIAL BY TALE, THE ROYAL ROT WILL BE RIDICULING ME ON THE FRONT PAGE FOR MONTHS. SPEAKING OF ROYALTY, IS EVERYTHING RUNNING SMOOTHLY AT THE CASTLE? I HAVEN'T HEARD FROM YOU IN WEEKS—"
Agatha paged through more of them.
These weren't Tedros' letters. They were his father's.
King Arthur must have written them when he was a first year at the School for Good. But who was Grisella? And why did Tedros have his father's letters in his coat? Then she noticed something stuck to the back of the last letter . . . a handwritten label . . .
Camelot Beautiful.
And clipped to the label was a business card that read:
"ALBEMARLE: Licensed Manager. Bank of Putsi."
Agatha peered closer.
Camelot Beautiful. That was the fund that Lady Gremlaine used to refurbish the castle, the one that never seemed to have any money, despite Agatha's relentless fundraising for it. Had Tedros kept the label for a reason? And what about the business card? The only Albemarle she knew was the spectacled woodpecker that tallied ranks at the School for Good and Evil, and he certainly wasn't a bank manager in Putsi . . .
Something rustled behind her and Agatha turned sharply.
She dropped the letters in shock.
"Hello, my dear," said a tall woman in the doorway with wild, canary yellow hair, an overabundance of makeup, and a leopard-print caftan billowing in the wind as she stepped off a hovering stymph into Robin's treehouse.
"Professor Anemone!" Agatha said, gaping at her former Beautification teacher as her bird-boned vehicle flew down to the ground below. "What are you doing he—"
Then she saw Maid Marian climbing into the treehouse behind her professor.
"Emma and I were classmates at school," Marian explained. "I sent her a crow the moment you came to Marian's Arrow. I knew Robin and his men wouldn't help you the way you needed. But the least I could do was find you someone who could."
Professor Anemone rushed forward and pulled Agatha into an embrace. "The faculty's been searching for you ever since we heard what happened. You have to understand: Clarissa kept us in the dark. Spent all her time cooped up in her office with her Quest Map and that crystal ball. She must have thought that if the teachers knew what was happening in the Woods, then the first years would find out something had gone wrong on your quests. She wouldn't have wanted them to worry or be distracted from their work. Always thinking of her students, even at her own expense . . . Her office is still locked no matter what spells we do on it and we can't get a hold of her Quest Map; that's why we couldn't find you. . . ."
Agatha teared up. She thought she'd been alone this whole time, when instead, her old teachers had been looking for her. For the briefest of moments, she felt safe again like she once had in their glass castle. "You don't know what we're up against, Professor. This is Evil like we've never seen. Evil that you don't teach in your classes. The Lion and the Snake and the Witch are working together. They have the whole Woods on their side. And we have no one on ours."
"Yes, you do," said Professor Anemone, pulling away and staring hard at her charge. "You see, Clarissa might believe in sheltering students, but neither I nor the rest of the teachers do. Which means the king might have the whole Woods on his side, but you have something far stronger on yours. Something that has outlasted any king. Something that has always restored the balance between Good and Evil, even in the darkest of times. Something that was born to win this fight."
Agatha looked up at her.
Professor Anemone leaned in, her eyes glittering. "My dear Agatha . . . you have a school."
***
Tedros imagined it was Rhian that they were beating.
That's how he'd survived the pirates.
Every stomping kick they'd given him, every brass-knuckled punch, every full-force blow gushing blood from his lip or eye, Tedros mentally redirected at the traitor who sat upon his throne. His loyal knight who turned out to be neither loyal nor a knight.
Now, curled up in his cell, Tedros could hear the scum's voice resounding down the hall, magically amplified by whatever hocus-pocus his friends were doing in their own cell.
Acid rage burnt his chest. It was like they were broadcasting Rhian's voice just to taunt him.
"Was he telling the truth?" he yelled. Tedros' voice echoed into the hall. "About Sophie wanting me dead? Was that the truth?"
He'd thought Sophie was on his side this time . . . that his friendship with her was finally real . . . But he didn't know what was real anymore. Maybe Sophie had conspired with Rhian on all of this. Or maybe she'd been scammed by him too.
Tedros' face grew hotter.
He'd welcomed Rhian like a brother. Brought him into Camelot. Told him his secrets.
He'd practically handed the pig his crown.
Tedros could taste the anger now, foaming in his throat.
Agatha was right. He'd been a bad king. Cowardly. Arrogant. Foolish. When Agatha had told Sophie this last night, he'd been cut to the bone. Betrayed by the only girl he'd ever loved. It had made him doubt her the way she doubted him.
But in the end, she was right. She always was.
And now, in the most fitting of ironies, the same girl who called him a bad king was the sole person who could help him win back his throne.
Because Agatha was the only one who'd managed to escape Rhian's hands.
The pirates had revealed this by accident. They'd beaten him relentlessly, the gang of six reeking thugs, demanding to know where Agatha had fled. At first, his relief that she'd escaped numbed the pain of their blows. But then the relief wore off. Where was she? Was she safe? Suppose they found her? Riled by his silence, the pirates had only beaten him harder.
Tedros leaned against the dungeon wall, warm blood sliding down his abdomen. His raw, bruised back touched cold stone through the shreds in his shirt and he seized up. The throbbing was so intense his teeth chattered; he tasted a sharp edge in the bottom row where one of them had been chipped. He tried to think of Agatha's face to keep him conscious, but all he could conjure were the faces of those filthy punks as their boots bashed down. The pirates' assault had gone on for so long that at some point, it seemed disconnected from purpose. As if they were punishing him for his very existence.
Maybe Rhian had built his whole army on feelings like this. Feelings of people who thought because Tedros was born handsome and rich and a prince, he deserved to fall. To suffer.
But he could take all the suffering in the world if it meant Agatha would live.
To survive, his princess had to run as far as she could from Camelot. She had to hide in the darkest part of the Woods where no one could find her.
But that wasn't Agatha. He knew her too well. She would come for her prince. No matter how much faith she'd lost in him.
The dungeons were quiet now, Rhian's voice no longer audible.
"How do we get out of here!" Tedros called to the others, enduring blinding pain in his rib. "How do we escape!"
No one in their cell responded.
"Listen to me!" he shouted.
But the strain had done him in. His mind softened like soggy pudding, unlocking from his surroundings. He pulled his knees into his chest, trying to relieve pressure on his rib, but his flank burned hotter, the scene distorting in the torch-haze on the wall. Tedros closed his eyes, heaving deep breaths. Only it made him feel more sealed in, like he was in an airless coffin. He could smell the old bones . . . "Unbury Me," his father's voice whispered. . . .
Tedros wrenched out of his trance and opened his eyes—
Hester's demon stared back at him.
Tedros recoiled against the wall, blinking to make sure it was actually there.
The demon was the size of a shoebox with brick-red skin and long, curved horns, his beady eyes locked on the young prince. The last time Tedros had been this close to Hester's demon, it had almost hacked him to pieces during a Trial by Tale.
"We thought this would work better than yelling across the dungeon," said the demon.
Only it didn't speak in a demon's voice. It spoke in Hester's.
Tedros stared at it. "Magic is impossible down here—"
"My demon isn't magic. My demon is me," said Hester's voice. "We need to talk before the pirates come back."
"Agatha's out there all on her own and you want to talk?" Tedros said, clutching his rib. "Use your little beast to get me out of this cell!"
"Good plan," the demon retorted, only with Beatrix's voice. "You'd still be trapped at the iron door and when the pirates see you, they'll beat you worse than they already have."
"Tedros, did they break any bones?" Professor Dovey's voice called faintly through the demon, as if the Dean was too far from it for a proper connection. "Hester, can you see through your demon? How bad does he look—"
"Not bad enough, whatever it is," Hort's voice said, hijacking the demon. "He got us into this mess by fawning over Rhian like a lovedrunk girl. You saw the way Tedros gave Rhian the run of his kingdom, letting him recruit the army and give speeches like he was king."
Tedros sat up queasily. "First of all, how is everyone talking through this thing, and second of all, do you think I knew what Rhian was planning?"
"To answer the first, Hester's demon is a gateway to her soul. And her soul recognizes her friends," the demon said with Anadil's voice. "Unlike your sword."
"And to answer the second, every boy you like ends up a bogey," Hort's voice jumped in, the demon trying to keep up like a ventriloquist. "Now, Sophie is the only person who can rescue us—"
"Agatha's the only person who can rescue us, you twit!" Tedros fired. "That's why we need to get out now, before she comes back and gets captured!"
"Can everyone shut up?" the demon snapped in Hester's voice. "Tedros, we need you to—"
"Put Hort back on," Tedros demanded. "After first year, when Sophie used you as her personal bootlicker without giving you the slightest in return, now you think she's going to rescue us!"
"Just because you wouldn't help people who needed it when the Snakes attacked doesn't mean she won't," Hort's voice thrashed.
"Idiot. Once she tastes a queen's life, she'll let us burn while she feasts on cake," Tedros slammed.
"SOPHIE ISN'T GOING TO BE QUEEN, Y/N IS! AND ANI'S RAT IS DEAD, THE SNAKE IS ALIVE, WE'RE IN A DUNGEON, AND WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SOPHIE! AND CAKE!" Hester's voice boomed, her demon swelling like a balloon. "WE HAVE QUESTIONS FOR TEDROS, YES? GIVEN WHAT WE SAW ONSTAGE, OUR LIVES DEPEND ON THESE QUESTIONS, YES? SO IF ANYONE EVEN TRIES TO INTERRUPT ME, STARTING RIGHT NOW I'LL TEAR OUT YOUR TONGUE."
The dungeon went silent.
"The Snake and Y/n are alive?" Tedros asked, ghost-faced.
Ten minutes later, Tedros stared back at the red imp, having learned about the Snake's reappearance, the birth of Lionsmane, Y/n being declared future queen, and everything else Hester and the team had seen in the magical projection they'd conjured in their cell.
"So there's two of them, plus Y/n? Rhian and this . . . Jasper?" Tedros said.
"Japeth. The Snake. And that's how we think they tricked both the Lady and Excalibur. They're twins who share the same blood. The blood of your father, they say," the demon explained. "If we're going to bring them down, we need to know how that's possible."
"You're asking me?" Tedros snorted.
"Do you live your whole life with your head up your ass?" Hester's voice scorned. "Think, Tedros. Don't shut down what might be possible just because you don't like the idea of it. Can these two boys be your brothers?"
Tedros scowled. "My father had his faults. But he couldn't have bred two monsters. Good can't spawn Evil. Not like that. Besides, how do you know Rhian didn't pull Excalibur because I'd done all the work dislodging it? Maybe he just got lucky."
The demon groaned. "It's like trying to reason with a hedgehog."
"Oh, just let him die. If they are his brothers, it'll be survival of the fittest," said Anadil's voice. "Can't argue with nature."
"Speaking of nature, I have to use the toilet," said Dot's voice.
Professor Dovey's voice muffled something to Tedros through the demon, something about his father's "women"—
"I can't hear you," said Tedros, cramming deeper into a corner. "My body hurts, my head hurts. Are we done with the interrogation?"
"Are you done being a pea-brained fool?" Hester railed. "We're trying to help you!"
"By making me smear my own father?" Tedros challenged.
Beatrix sighed. "Tedros, what we're trying to ask is whether there's anything you can tell us about your father's past that makes Rhian and his brother's claim possible. Could your father have had other children? Without you knowing? We get that it's a difficult subject. We just want to keep you alive. And to do that, we need to know as much as you do."
Something in her voice made him let down his guard. There was no judgment in her tone, which was unusual for Beatrix. Now she was only asking him to share the facts. He thought of Merlin, who often spoke to him the same way. Merlin, who was either in danger somewhere up there or . . . dead. Tedros' gut knotted. The wizard would have wanted him to answer Beatrix honestly.
Tedros raised his eyes to the demon's. "I had a steward named Lady Gremlaine while I was king. She was my father's steward too, and they'd grown close before he met my mother. So close that I suspected something may have happened between them . . . Something that made my mother fire Lady Gremlaine from the castle soon after I was born." The prince swallowed. "Before Lady Gremlaine died, I asked her whether the Snake was her son. Whether he was her and my father's son. She never said yes. But . . ."
". . . she suggested it," Beatrix's voice prodded.
Tedros nodded, his throat constricting. "She said she'd done something terrible. Before I was born." Sweat dripped down his forehead as he relived the moment in the attic, Lady Gremlaine clutching a bloody hammer, her hair wild, her eyes manic. "She said she'd done something my father never knew. But she'd fixed it. She'd made sure the child would never be found. He'd grow up never knowing who he was . . ." Tedros' voice caught.
The demon was frozen still. For the first time no one spoke through it.
"So Rhian could be telling the truth," said Professor Dovey's voice finally, a remote whisper. "He could be the real king."
"The son of Lady Gremlaine and your father," Hester's voice agreed. "Japeth too."
Tedros sat up straighter. "We don't know that. Maybe there's an explanation. Maybe there's something she didn't tell me. I found letters between Lady Gremlaine and my father. In her house. Lots of them. Maybe they explain what she really meant. . . . We need to read those letters . . . I don't know where they are now—" His eyes glistened. "It can't be true. Rhian can't be my brother. He can't be the heir." He looked at the demon pleadingly. "Can he?"
"I don't know," said Hester, low and grim. "But if he is, then either your brother kills you or you kill him. This can't end any other way."
Suddenly they heard the dungeon door open.
Tedros squinted through the bars. Voices and shadows stretched down the stairway at the end of the hall.
The Snake glided into view first, followed by three pirates wielding trays slopped with gruel. The pirates set down the gruel at the floor of the first two cells—the one with Tedros' crewmates and the one with Professor Dovey—and kicked the trays through the gaps along with dog bowls of water.
The Snake, meanwhile, walked straight towards Tedros' cell, his green mask flashing in the torchlight.
Panicked, Hester's demon flew upwards and Tedros watched it flail around, struggling to find a shadow on the ceiling to hide in. But with its red skin, the demon stuck out like an eyesore—
Then the Snake appeared through the cell bars.
Instantly, the green scims on his mask dispersed, revealing his face to Tedros for the first time.
Tedros gaped back at him, Rhian's ghostly twin, his lean body fitted in shiny black eels, the suit newly restored as if he'd never been wounded in battle at all. As if he was the strongest he'd ever been.
How?
The Snake seemed to sense what he was thinking and gave him a sly grin. A shadow fluttered over their heads—
The Snake's eyes shot up, searching the top of Tedros' cell, his pupils scanning left and right. He raised a glowing fingertip, coated with scims, and flooded the ceiling with green light. Tedros blanched, his stomach in his throat. . . .
But there was nothing on the ceiling except a slow-moving worm.
Japeth's eyes slid back down to Tedros, his fingerglow dissipating.
That's when Tedros noticed Hester's demon on the wall behind the Snake, crawling into the boy's shadow. Tedros quickly averted his eyes from the demon, his heart jumping hurdles.
The Snake gazed at Tedros' bashed-up face. "Not so pretty anymore, are you."
It was the way he said it that snapped Tedros to attention, the boy's tone dripping with disdain. He wasn't some masked creature anymore. He had a face. He was human now, this Snake. He could be defeated.
Tedros bared his teeth, glaring hard at the savage who'd killed Chaddick, killed Lancelot, and smeared his father's name. "We'll see what you look like when I ram my sword through your mouth."
"So strong you are," the Snake cooed. "Such a man." He reached out and caressed Tedros' cheek—
Tedros slapped his hand away so hard it struck the cell bars, the bone of the Snake's wrist cracking against metal. But the pale-faced boy didn't flinch. He just smirked at Tedros, relishing the silence.
"Why is Y/n working with you?" Tedros finally asked.
"Working with us?" The Snake's eyes glittered. "Oh, no, I think you mean we're working with her."
Tedros' lips parted.
The Snake smiled maliciously. "She's the mastermind behind our scheme. Her plan was quite genius, really: Set up a threat, then come to the rescue in order to build trust."
"But why?" Tedros asked. "Why is she doing all of this?"
The Snake grinned.
"Don't you know?" he said. "You and your princess are her Nemeses."
Then he pulled the black dungeon key from his sleeve. "I wish I could say this was a social call, but I'm here on behalf of my brother. After she had supper with the king tonight, Advisor Sophie was given permission by King Rhian to release one of you." He glanced down the hall and saw the rest of the crew poking their heads out of the cell at the other end, wide eyed and listening. "That's right. One of you who will no longer live in the dungeons and instead be allowed to work in the castle as the advisor's servant, under King Rhian's eye. One of you whose life will be spared . . ."
The Snake looked back at Tedros. ". . . for now."
Tedros bolted straight as an arrow, all thoughts of Y/n vanishing. "She picked me."
In a flash, all doubts Tedros had about Sophie vanished. He should have never mistrusted her. Sophie didn't want him dead. She didn't want him to suffer. No matter how much they'd hurt each other in the past.
Because Sophie would do anything for Agatha. And Agatha would do anything for Tedros. Which meant Sophie would do anything to save Tedros' life, including finding a way to convince a usurping king to set his enemy free. How had she done it? How had she gotten Rhian on her side? He'd hear the story soon enough.
Tedros grinned at the Snake. "Get moving, scum. Advisor's orders," he said. "Open the door."
The Snake didn't.
"Let me out," Tedros commanded, face reddening.
The Snake stayed still, the prison key glinting between his fingers.
"She picked me!" Tedros snarled, gripping the bars. "Let me out!"
Instead, the Snake just put his face to the prince's . . . and smiled.