A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,103

coming for them.

“We can’t outrun horses,” Agatha fought, resisting Tedros’ pull. “We need to hide!”

Hooves echoed over the drawbridge. They’d be here any second—

Agatha saw a steep downslope to the east, blanketed in fallen leaves. She wrenched Tedros towards it, who gleaned her plan, dashing for the hill and yanking Agatha behind him. Light faded around them, the treetops blocking out the sun.

Chasing her prince in the dark, Agatha felt despair overwhelm her.

Professor Dovey was dead.

Her fairy godmother.

The Dean who’d known Agatha was Good before she herself ever did. The voice that had lifted her from the darkness when she had no hope.

Dovey had given her life to let them survive. To let them fix this story and find its real end.

Just like Agatha’s mother had, once upon a time.

All those she’d looked to as family: Callis, Professor Sader, Professor Dovey . . . One by one, they’d been felled by her story.

But not without purpose.

The thought hit Agatha like a wind to a sail, propelling her forward, even as the tears fell.

Dovey had sacrificed herself to save her students.

To save Camelot’s true king.

To save the Woods.

She’d known her body was weak, her time coming to an end. She’d known that Agatha would rise in her place. That her ward would never rest until the real Lion was returned to the throne.

Agatha’s tears burned to fire.

Professor Dovey had known her too well.

Horses crashed into the Woods, their legs trampling leaves with staccato crackles. Agatha glanced back at a cavalry of men wielding torches and swords—

“There they are!” the King of Foxwood cried.

Horses veered in Agatha’s direction, their riders’ blades shining.

“Come on!” she gritted, surging ahead of Tedros and dragging him the way he’d dragged her, the hill ten yards ahead. Startled by her strength, Tedros tripped, losing his balance as the riders closed in, swords raised—

Agatha grabbed him by the waist and threw him off the slope, Dovey’s bag cinched under her arm as she and her prince tumbled together, sucking in screams, before landing hard in a dune of dead leaves. Agatha hugged Tedros’ sweat-soaked body, towing him beneath the red and gold pile, their bloodied skin camouflaged—

Horses soared over them, riders flashing torches like spotlights, before the steeds slammed down and galloped into the darkness.

The Woods went quiet.

For a long while, neither of them moved, their breaths puffing leaves into the air. Agatha clung to Tedros, her face in his neck, smelling that hot, minty scent her body knew so well. Wet blood dampened her arm and she couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. Slowly her breaths deepened, her nose to his skin, with every inhale remembering that she was still alive and so was her prince. Tedros’ arm slid around her. She spooned closer, her hand tracing his stubbled chin and down to the cuts on his neck where the executioner had measured his blow. His throat quivered beneath her palm, tears pearling at his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She kissed his bottom lip. “I love you too.”

There was nothing else to say. They were together now. And despite everything that had happened, to be together even for a moment was an ember of light in the ashes.

Then she remembered something, so sharply it knocked the air out of her—

“Dovey told me where he is!”

“Who’s he?” Tedros murmured.

“Merlin! She told me when she pretended to be you!”

Tedros jolted up. “Where is he?”

“The Caves of Contempo! We have to find him!”

“Caves of Contempo? Agatha, that’s thousands of miles away! Past the frostplains, past the desert, past the man-eating hills. . . . It’s a walled-off island in a poisonous ocean. We can’t get to the caves, let alone inside them, and especially not with a million people hunting us!”

Agatha’s hope withered. “But . . .”

A branch snapped.

Tedros launched out of the leaves, sweeping his gold fingerglow across the trees. “Who’s there?”

Agatha leapt next to him, her glow lit.

A shadow stirred behind a tree.

“Make one move and I’ll kill you!” Agatha spat.

“Oh, I doubt that,” the shadow replied smoothly, prowling into the open. “Because we both know I’d kill you first.”

A glow sparked in the dark, pink and hot as a sunset.

“And I really don’t want to kill you after we’ve come all this way,” said Sophie.

She grinned at Agatha.

Agatha gasped and ran towards her, Sophie practically buckling from the force of her embrace.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again . . . ,” Sophie breathed. “You don’t know what I’ve been through . .