Dot’s face was blotchy, her eyes ignoring her father and fixed on the scim pointing at her. “We need to send a signal to the rest of the crew,” she said shakily. “We need to tell them not to come here.”
On cue, Anadil’s rats skittered out of her pocket, crawling down their master’s leg and shuttling for the door—
The door crashed open, sending the rats flying, as Beatrix, Reena, Ravan, Nicola, and Hort barreled in together. They saw the scims and scattered with shrieks and shouts to the walls.
Five more scims breezed through the window, each turning knife-sharp and taking its place in front of a student. Three smaller scims coasted in and set aim at Anadil’s rats.
But still . . . none of the eels attacked.
“What are they waiting for?” Sophie said, watching the scaly ribbons hover patiently in front of their victims.
The Sheriff’s eyes were widening, his hand slowly loosening on his daughter. “It’s not true, is it? You didn’t save anyone at the Four Point. . . . You made it all up. . . .”
Dot’s nose started running. “I—I—I just wanted you to like me again. I wrote you letters from school, asking you to forgive me. I missed you so much. But you wouldn’t even answer them—”
“Because you’re a curse,” her father snarled. “You helped Robin Hood escape. You sided with my Nemesis over your own family. And now when I finally think you’ve redeemed yourself, when I can look the people in the eye and tell them you’ve made something of your life . . . you humiliate me again?” The Sheriff burned red, nostrils flaring. “I thought at that school they’d teach you some sense, but instead it’s made you more stupid and delusional than you already were! Only reason you got into that school in the first place was because I did a favor for the School Master. Yeah, you didn’t know that, did you? Came to me with something he needed and in return, he took you off my hands. Plus, he enchanted my catching sack so that if I ever catch Robin again with it, this time there’s nothing you can do to foul it up! Robin would be still in jail if it weren’t for you! I’d be a legend in the Woods! But then you stole my keys and snuck them to him, all because you wanted to be his friend. As if anyone could ever be your friend! Should have known your letter was all lies. Was there anything true in there about you beating the Snake? About you being the real Lion? Even one word?”
Dot didn’t answer.
The Sheriff bared his teeth at her. “You ugly, disgusting pig.”
He raised his hand to strike her—
Hester’s demon slammed into him, bashing the Sheriff in the groin with its horns. Before it could gore him again, a scim ripped through the demon’s claw, pinning the demon to the ceiling.
The Sheriff crumpled to the floor, wailing high-pitched noises. Hester gasped, buckling against the wall, as if the wind had been crushed out of her, her skin turning white. Overhead, her red-skinned demon bleated in pain.
“H-H-Hester, you okay?” Agatha sputtered.
But Hester wasn’t listening, her eyes bloodshot and still fixed on the Sheriff.
“Too bad for you, your daughter has friends,” she said.
“Lots of friends,” Anadil seethed.
“And if you ever touch Dot, you ever speak to her like that again, those friends will tear out your throat,” said Hester. “We will kill her own father to protect her and we won’t feel an ounce of guilt. You don’t know us. You don’t know what we’re capable of.”
“And you don’t know the truth about your daughter either,” said Anadil, red glare slashing through the Sheriff. “She isn’t an embarrassment or ugly or any of the other lies you dump on her. She’s a miracle. You know why? Because she came from stock like you and is still the best friend anyone could ask for.”
Dot’s face flooded with tears, her whole body quivering.
The Sheriff sobbed in pain behind the couch.
Dot shook her head, panicking. “You shouldn’t have hurt Daddy—it was my fault—I shouldn’t have lied—”
Agatha moved to comfort her, but the scim aimed at Agatha jerked as if to strike, and Sophie snagged her back.
“Nothing stupid, remember?” Sophie said.
“We can’t wait here like sitting ducks,” said Hort, shirking from his scim. “We have to do something—”
“Our fingerglows don’t work against scims. . . . We have no weapons . . . ,” said Beatrix.
The crew looked at Nicola for ideas, but she seemed to be in a trance, her narrowed eyes roaming the scene. . . .
“What is it, Nic?” said Agatha.
“The scims were looking for someone,” said the first year. “And now they’ve lured us here. They lured all of us here. But if they’re looking for one of us, why haven’t they attacked? They’re using us as bait. To find who they’re really looking for. This whole thing is another one of the Snake’s traps—”
The door smashed open, this time ripping off its hinges.
Tedros stood in the threshold, his black hooded coat silhouetted in evening light. His eyes were watery and red, his face flushed.
He spotted Anadil and Hester first. “Agatha’s glow! I saw it! Where is sh—”
But now he glimpsed the Sheriff of Nottingham crumpled on the floor . . . the demon impaled on the ceiling . . . his classmates fixed to the walls . . . the scims aimed at their hearts.
Then Sophie.
Then Agatha.
But before he could move towards his princess, the nearly twenty scims moved first, turning swiftly from their chosen targets and all pointing in Tedros’ direction.
“No,” he breathed.
With a deafening scream, the scims flew for his head.
Tedros dove as the scims ripped past him, tearing open a wall. A split second later, they ripped back out, aiming at the king once more. But Tedros was as strong as he was nimble, ducking under furniture and hurling chairs and lamps and kitchen pots at the scims, which obliterated everything he threw in their direction.
“Get out of the house!” he commanded his classmates. “Now!”
Ravan, Hort, Beatrix, Reena, and Nicola fled through the open door.
Agatha instinctively surged towards Tedros, but Sophie blocked her.
“I have to help him!” Agatha cried.
“By getting cut up into a thousand pieces? You don’t have anything to fight with!” Sophie blistered.
But now the scims had the upper hand on Tedros, spreading out and coming at him from different angles, forcing him against the windowsill—
“He doesn’t even have Excalibur! He can’t fight them with his bare hands!” Agatha panicked, struggling in Sophie’s grip. “Where’s Lancelot? Lance was supposed to be here helping him—”
“There’s only one way to help now!” said Hester, grabbing Sophie. “The Lion! We have to find him!”
Agatha spun to Sophie. “Use your map!”
Suddenly alert, Sophie emptied the vial on her neck, unfurling the Quest Map. . . .
The scims had Tedros checkmated, trapped against the windowsill with no other move to make. They glittered brighter, each aiming at a different part of his body—
“There he is . . . ,” Sophie said, tracking RHIAN’s name. “He’s close to us. . . . Getting closer. And closer even . . . wait a second . . .”
The scims launched for Tedros—
A flash of gold blasted through the window, crossing in front of Tedros’ body. Scims slammed into the solid gold of a Lion’s mask as its wearer swung two torches like swords, lighting eels on fire—
The boy landed on his feet, pulling off his Lion mask.
“Here, Your Highness!” Rhian said, tossing Tedros a torch.
Tedros caught it. He stared open-mouthed at the boy who’d just saved his life: tan and copper-haired, his lean, muscular frame clad in a blue-and-gold suit. . . .
Then the scims came stabbing at them again.
“At my wing!” Tedros ordered Rhian, launching at the eels with his torch.
Rhian obeyed straightaway, flanki
ng the king as the two boys swept their torches in perfect sync, burning through scims, which fell to the ground shrieking.
Agatha broke from Sophie, sprinting to help them—
“Stay back!” Tedros and Rhian yelled at once.
Agatha stalled midrun. She, Sophie, and the three witches watched wide-eyed as Tedros and his new knight teamed effortlessly, twin swordsmen, calling out moves to each other as they dispatched the scaly ribbons.
“Feint left!” Tedros shouted.
“Parry right!” Rhian called back.
Hester could see the awe on Agatha’s face, watching Tedros join forces with someone his equal. At school, Chaddick had always been Tedros’ sidekick, but he could never truly keep up with the prince. Now Agatha was seeing what it was like for Tedros to finally have a teammate to rely on. This whole time, Agatha had thought she was that teammate, but now she realized that as much as he loved her, Tedros needed someone else—someone who wasn’t his girlfriend, just like Agatha needed Sophie, even when she had Tedros. Just like Hester needed Anadil and Dot. Because there were all kinds of needs that one person couldn’t possibly provide; it’s why the bond between two boys was as distinct and mysterious as the bond between two girls. And it’s why Agatha had misread Tedros so fundamentally these past six months, when she’d felt so alone and unneeded. Because it had nothing to do with Tedros needing his princess . . . and everything to do with him needing a knight.
Meanwhile, the scims didn’t leave a scratch on either boy, the two of them so melded and ruthless in destroying them that they began wordlessly anticipating each other’s moves like silent dancers. And it was only when the last scim fell that Tedros and Rhian finally bent over with relief and turned to their audience.
“Hi,” Tedros said to Agatha.
“Hi,” Agatha said, breathless.
Sophie and Rhian exchanged grins.
But then more scims came.
Hundreds of them, swarming through the window, glittering green instead of black. They funneled like a tornado and spewed a gust of wind that snuffed out the boys’ torches and knocked the king and his knight into a corner. Before they could recover, the scims cycloned faster, building into a black, scaly suit, then a shimmering green mask, reforming the Snake himself. His suit had several holes in it, where scales had been ripped away, revealing milk-white flesh, gashed and bloodied, as if the killed scims from his recent defeats had left both his armor and body vulnerable.
The Snake’s cold gaze settled on the boys, trapped in the corner. All the remaining scims on his body turned instantly to spikes, their tips shining fatally. The Snake’s emerald eyes darkened with purpose. . . .
Then he charged.
Rhian and Tedros both yelled—
A bag swallowed the Snake’s head, yanking him backwards, before engulfing the rest of his body.
Stunned, the Snake slashed and kicked from inside it, but he couldn’t get out. Nor could any sound he was making be heard through the sack’s gray fabric, as if he were a dove trapped in a magician’s hat.
Tedros and Rhian lifted their heads to see Dot pull the sack tight, sealing the Snake inside.
“Daddy said the School Master enchanted it,” she shrugged. “Figured it was worth a shot.”
Curled up on the floor, the Sheriff gaped in disbelief.
So did Sophie, Agatha, Anadil, and Hester against the wall.
“Guess his fake pen didn’t see that coming,” Sophie said, watching the Snake thrash inside the bag.
“Don’t think anyone did,” said Anadil, as her three rats sniffed around it, giving Dot flabbergasted looks. “I thought spells don’t work on the Snake.”
“Rafal’s spells weren’t ordinary spells, apparently,” said Hester, prowling towards the Sheriff—
“No, please! Don’t kill me!” he choked.
Hester snapped the jail keys off his belt, before holding them out to his daughter.
“Help Robin escape all you want. But this one can’t escape,” said Hester. “Deal?”
Dot smiled, her hand clasping Hester’s tight for a moment before she took the key. “Deal.”
“Then let’s get this Snake to jail,” said Hester as Dot and Anadil dragged the sack towards the door.
“Guess the scims were looking for Tedros after all,” Hester heard Dot say.
“But it still doesn’t make any sense,” Anadil insisted. “I told you in the square. They had to be looking for someone else last night. . . .”
Hester moved to help them but she stopped at the door, watching Tedros approach his new copper-haired friend, the boy’s stubble sparkling with sweat.
“Thank you,” said Tedros.
“Don’t think I need this anymore, Your Highness,” said his knight, handing Tedros his Lion mask. He bowed to his king. “My name is Rhian.”
“You mean Sir Rhian,” said Tedros.
His knight’s steely gaze softened, a blush rising on his amber cheeks.
But now his king had seen his princess out of the corner of his eye. Without a word, he swept towards her, lifted her off the ground, and kissed her like it was the very first time. Agatha kissed him back harder, until they both ran out of breath.
“No more going at things alone,” she said. “No more spending time apart.”
“That goes both ways,” said Tedros. He kissed his princess again.
Meanwhile, Sophie had cozied up to Rhian, who still looked dazed from his exchange with Tedros.
“So now the Lion has a name,” she cooed, holding out a kerchief from inside her dress.
He took it and wiped his forehead, his blue-green eyes gazing fervently at her. “And a lady-in-waiting, I hope.”
Sophie touched his chest. “A lady who is waiting for you to ask her on a real date . . .”
But Rhian wasn’t listening. He was looking past her, at Tedros. The king’s expression had slowly changed, as if the triumph of the moment had worn off, giving way to cold reality.
“Teddy, what is it?” Agatha asked.
The king was breathing shallowly now, unable to get words out.
“Your Highness, are you okay?” Rhian said, rushing to his side, almost pushing Agatha out of the way.
He seemed to smell something on Tedros, because he put his nose to the king’s neck and then quickly pulled off Tedros’ jacket—
Tedros was drenched in blood.
“You’re hurt!” Agatha cried.
“No.” Rhian put his hands on Tedros’ shirt, feeling beneath it. “There’s no wound. It’s not his blood.”
Agatha and Sophie stared at him.
“Whose blood is it?” said Agatha.
Her prince didn’t look at her.
Agatha’s face changed.
“Tedros . . . ,” she rasped. “Where’s Lancelot?”
Slowly Tedros lifted his eyes.
That’s when he started to cry.
24
TEDROS
Sides of a Story
A few hours earlier, Tedros had been riding with his father’s knight across sun-drenched hills.
The two had made good time through the night, moving east from Camelot through the outskirts of Pifflepaff Hills, before curving north towards Nottingham.
They’d traveled in silence, each in a long, black coat, with hoods shadowing their faces, so that even the few riders they encountered hurried past, avoiding eye contact, no doubt thinking they were minions of the Snake.
At night, the Endless Woods usually left Tedros tense and on edge, especially with WANTED posters of Lance’s and his mother’s faces coming in and out of the dark at him, tacked to trees as he passed. But the young king was distracted by the sheer freedom of being on open land. It was the first time in six months that he’d left the castle. He hadn’t realized how claustrophobic he’d been, sealed inside that crumbling compound, no matter how vast it was. Nor had he realized how relieved he would feel to be away from Excalibur taunting him at all hours of the day, despite having to replace his hallowed
sword with a middling blade he’d scrounged from the Armory. And though he could sense the tension inside him building, as if a storm was coming, he felt unshackled out here, more capable and kingly than he ever did in that castle—even when he and Lance galloped through Camelot’s slum cities spattered with graffiti and effigies denigrating his reign . . . even when they skirted the shells of towns ravaged by the Snake’s attacks . . . even when his conversation with his mother kept pulsing in his head. . . .
“She grew too close to your father, Tedros. . . .”
“. . . always insinuating herself between your father and I . . .”
“There was something about that room I never liked. . . .”
All through the ride, Lancelot’s black horse stayed neck and neck with Tedros’ blue-gray one, though the king rode at a reckless pace, not stopping once to eat or sleep. Tedros kept glancing over at his knight, but Lance was always there, right beside him, his face as placid as Tedros’ was clenched.
And indeed, as they reached the outskirts of Nottingham, it was Tedros who finally halted first, his back hurting, stomach aching, and bladder bursting. He almost fell out of the saddle, darting behind a shrubby tree, while Lancelot opened a bag and laid out a late breakfast of smoked salmon, toasted bread, and fresh pears.
“How much longer to Nottingham?” Tedros asked impatiently when he sat, lumping salmon between pieces of bread and scarfing it down.
“You’re not due in Sherwood Forest until six,” said Lancelot, watching Tedros stuff more food in his mouth. “No need to give yourself indigestion.”
“I have business in Nottingham first,” said Tedros.
The knight snorted. “No one has business in Nottingham.”
“I need to see Lady Gremlaine.”
“Thought we were rid of that woman.”
“I have questions to ask her.”
“About what?”
Tedros glared at the knight. “Nothing that concerns you.”
Lancelot took his time putting salmon on his toast. “You’re right. None of my business if you think your steward had a child with your father.”
Tedros stopped eating, mouth full.
“You don’t think I’ve thought it too? For a half-second, at least,” said Lancelot. “You not pulling Excalibur. Guinevere hating that woman. The Snake saying he’s Arthur’s son. All the clues are there.”
Quests for Glory Page 31