A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,169

one I loved. That she was the one I wanted back. But that’s who you wanted back. Not me.”

Rhian went cold. “What?”

“It was obvious if you just thought about it,” his brother said, fully composed now. “But you only think of me as something to be used. A liege, a henchman, who would get you a crown and also get you Mother back in the process. You made your wish into mine. But I wish for someone else. I’ve always wished for someone else.”

Behind the door, Sophie paled. She’d understood. She knew who Japeth wished for.

“The only person who ever truly loved me,” said the snow-white twin. “The only person willing to kill for me. The only person I trust more than my own brother. My real family.”

Rhian stepped back. “A-A-Aric?”

Sophie couldn’t breathe.

“And now you’ll help me bring him back, brother. Just like you promised,” the Snake said to Rhian, his gaze smoldering. “Right?”

The king froze. His eyes darted to Excalibur on the table—

“I’ll take that as a no,” said the Snake.

He went for the sword.

Rhian got there first. He grabbed Excalibur by the blade and swung the jeweled hilt, smashing the handle into his brother’s neck. Japeth crashed onto the night table, shattering the glass top, before scims rocketed off his black suit and pinned his brother to the wall, knocking Excalibur out of Rhian’s hand and onto the floor. Rhian tore at the scims with all his strength, ripping his body from the wall and bludgeoning eels with his fists, just before Japeth came swinging again. The two boys launched at each other wildly, punches and kicks landing with bone-crushing cracks, sprays of blood flying, before they locked arms viciously and hurled each other to the ground.

“You think I’d bring him back? To run rampant in my castle? My own death sentence?” Rhian snarled. “Never. Never!”

Japeth bashed the king’s head against the wall. Rhian kneed him in the face—

Sophie watched, her heart in a knot, the scene following the crystal’s script.

Only not quite.

Because in the crystal, she’d been in the room with them, cowering in plain sight.

Something tapped her shoulder. Sophie spun. Three eels screeched with discovery, snaring her in a tight collar and dragging her from the bathroom into the bedroom, throwing her into a corner.

Japeth jolted upon seeing her, his bloodied face contorting with rage, before he turned on his brother. “Halfway to Gillikin, I see.”

Rhian gaped at Sophie. “But I . . . I didn’t . . . I . . .”

Japeth pummeled him, spurting Rhian’s blood onto the Snake’s own face. “Thought you could kill me! Your own brother! Thought you could replace me with her!”

Choking, spitting, the king flailed towards Sophie. “Call the guards! Now!”

Sophie swiveled to the door, but the scims collaring her jumped off, re-forming into a thick spike before they bolted the doors to the chamber from inside. Sophie cowered against the wall, trapped. Trust the crystal, she told herself. Rhian would win in the end. And yet, he was losing now. . . . Should she help? Should she stay put? Had she missed something in the crystal’s scene? But she didn’t have the crystal to look at anymore. Nor did Evelyn’s dress intervene, suddenly dormant, as if it had never been alive at all.

Japeth seized the advantage, the king too weak to fend off his brother’s assault. The Snake savaged him with a punch to the eye, swelling Rhian’s face beyond recognition, sending the king crumpling to the ground, his crown knocked off his head.

Japeth stood up, breathing heavily, covered in blood.

Then his eyes went to Sophie.

He prowled towards her. Sophie blanched. This wasn’t in the crystal! This wasn’t in the script—

Rhian snagged his twin by the ankle and pulled him to the ground. The king scraped to his feet and kicked his brother in the face, harder, harder, until the Snake wasn’t moving.

Rhian wheeled to Sophie, masked with blood. “I told you to leave. I told you,” he wheezed, staggering towards her. He reached a wounded palm and touched the wet blood on her cheek, her blood mixing with his. “Now look what you’ve don—”

He stopped, his arm still in the air.

Because his hand was repairing before his and Sophie’s eyes.

Sophie’s blood snaked along the lines of Rhian’s palm, magically sealing up the open cuts, restoring his tan, perfect flesh.

Her blood was healing him.

The same way her blood had healed Japeth.

Slowly, Rhian and Sophie met eyes, both shell-shocked.

“Well, well,” said a glacial voice behind them.

Sophie and Rhian