Quests for Glory

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Quests for Glory Page 38

by Soman Chainani


  “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 di
ed, 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?

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

  3. 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.r />
  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. . . .

 

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