The School for Good and Evil #5: A Crystal of Time

by Soman Chainani

  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—

  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 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.”

  5

  TEDROS

  Sophie’s Choice

  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. The friend who turned out to be his worst enemy. 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.”

  “Oh, so being a ‘girl’ is an insult now?” Nicola’s voice ripped, the demon suddenly looking animated in agreement.

  “Look, if you’re going to be my girlfriend, you have to accept I’m not some intellectual who always knows the right words to use,” Hort’s voice rebuffed.

  “YOU’RE A HISTORY PROFESSOR!” Nicola’s voice slapped.

  “Whatever,” Hort barged on. “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. “First you were friends with Aric. Then you were friends with Filip. And now you canoodled with the devil himself!”

  “I did not canoodle with anyone!” Tedros yelled at the demon. “And if any of us is cozying up to the devil, you’re the one who’s friends with Sophie!”

  “Yeah, Sophie, the only person who can rescue us!” Hort’s voice heckled.

  “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 three years of Sophie using 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 Snake 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 doesn’t eat cake,” Hort sniffed.

  “You think you know Sophie better than me?”

  “When she rescues you from that cell, you’re going to feel like a boob—”

  “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 is 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, 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? 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 bum?” 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.

  “Everyone needs to cool their milk,” said Nicola’s voice.

  “Milk?” Kiko’s voice peeped through the demon. “I see no milk.”

  “It’s what my father used to say at his pub when it got too hot in the kitchen,” said Nicola, calmly taking over the creature. “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.”

  There was something about the first year’s voice, so lacking in pretense, that made Tedros let down his guard. Maybe it was because he barely knew the girl or that there was no judgment or conclusion in her question. All she was asking was for 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 Nicola honestly. Indeed, Merlin had been fond of the girl, even when Tedros hadn’t been willing to give her a chance.

  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,” Nicola’s voice prodded, the demon looking almost gentle.

  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.