A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,122

and wished Chaddick off. Lady Gremlaine stepped back, giving the king and his knight space to say goodbye.

“I remember this,” Agatha said, looking at Tedros.

“I do too. We don’t need to go inside,” Tedros preempted, clearly skittish about jumping into another crystal. “Chaddick stayed at Camelot a few days before he left on his quest to find knights to join my Round Table. This was the last time I ever saw him.”

“Lady Gremlaine took a shine to Chaddick,” Agatha recalled. “One of the only times I ever saw her smile.”

“Because Chaddick respected and listened to her, unlike me,” said Tedros. “Until I got to know her better, at least.”

“Lady Gremlaine,” Sophie mulled. “She’s the one who had a long past with your father, isn’t she? The one who the Snake killed before she could tell you her secret and the one who Rhian and Japeth told me you treated poorly. Which means Lady Gremlaine could be Rhian and Japeth’s mother and King Arthur their father. Which means Rhian could actually be the real . . .”

She looked at Tedros. Tedros didn’t meet her eyes.

Agatha took her prince’s hand as they watched the scene again and again.

“Reaper, we need to send a crow to Hort and Nicola,” Tedros said finally, his eyes still on the crystal. “We need to tell them to find everything they can about Grisella Gremlaine.”

Agatha’s skin prickled. That name. Grisella. She knew that name. Someone she’d met? Or learned about at school . . . ?

The blue glow in the walls around them faded lighter, Dovey’s ball losing connection fast.

“What happens when we run out of time?” Agatha asked, swiveling to her cat.

But Reaper hadn’t heard Tedros’ order or Agatha’s question, his attention locked on a tiny crystal between his paws.

“Wait a second. That’s me,” said Sophie, kneeling towards it before Agatha and Tedros did the same.

Inside the crystal, Sophie was waiting by the Gnomeland stump in the same white dress she wore now. The sky was dark, the Woods blacked out around her.

Sophie glanced at Agatha and Tedros. “This must be when I first came with Robin and then went back to look for you—”

“No. It’s not,” said Tedros sharply.

Because in the crystal’s scene, Sophie wasn’t going to look for her friends. She was pacing by the stump, her eyes darting around the Woods, making sure no one had seen her. Then her body froze, suddenly bathed in flamelight, which grew brighter and brighter. . . .

A blue-and-gold carriage, lit by torches and carved with Camelot’s crest, entered the crystal’s frame, slowing down as it approached Sophie. There was a boy inside the carriage, his face shadowed as the driver pulled the horses to a stop.

The carriage door opened.

Sophie climbed in next to the boy.

The driver whipped the horses and the carriage reversed direction, back towards Camelot, as the shadowy boy and Sophie rode away, the leaves of the Woods dusting up behind them.

The scene went dark, before it began to replay.

Slowly, three pairs of eyes, two friends’ and a cat’s, all shifted to Sophie. Agatha’s heart pumped harder, her neck on fire. She looked at Sophie as if she were a stranger.

“You think I’d go back to the castle? To . . . him?” Sophie spluttered.

“You went back to Rafal the same way!” Tedros attacked. “The same exact way. Leaving Agatha and me behind, in the middle of the night, in secret.”

“But I loved Rafal!” Sophie bit back, her cheeks pink. “I’d never go back to Rhian! Rhian’s a monster! He tried to kill both of you!”

“While you stood by his side!” Tedros pounced. “While you fought for him!”

“Pretended to fight for him!” Sophie shouted. “Everything I’ve done has been to put you back on the throne—”

“Yes, me, the rot. The rot you said should have been killed,” Tedros lashed.

“You can’t think this is real. You can’t think it’s true,” Sophie said, her mouth trembling. She turned to Agatha and clasped her shoulders. “Aggie, please . . .”

Tedros glowered at Sophie, so sure it was the truth. And for the briefest of moments, so did her best friend. . . .

Then Agatha’s heart slowed, the heat seeping out of her.

“No,” she exhaled. “It’s not true.”

Sophie let go of her, caving in relief.

Tedros shook his head. “You always trust her, Agatha. Always. And it’s nearly killed us a thousand times.”

“But it hasn’t killed us,” said Agatha calmly. “And the reason why is staring at us, crystal clear. I’ve been searching through Sophie’s memories, just like I