because she’s smarter and tougher than all of us, including you.”
Agatha pulled Tedros faster down the steps. “Look, we don’t know where anyone is or if they’re safe: witches, Beatrix, Willam, teachers, first years, even Anadil’s two rats. But it doesn’t matter unless we stop the Snake from becoming the One True King and killing us all. That’s why we’re here. To find a way to put Tedros back on the throne.”
“Except there is no way,” said Guinevere’s voice. She stood at the top of the stairs. “Rhian might be dead, but Japeth is as much Arthur’s son as Rhian was. You witnessed the past with your own eyes, Agatha. You saw Evelyn Sader bewitch Arthur into giving her his sons. His heirs. Japeth is king, then. Nothing in the Past can change the Present. Nothing in Arthur’s grave can make Tedros king again.”
Everyone fell quiet. Agatha included.
“Then why did Father’s sword give Merlin that message for me?” Tedros appealed to his mother. “Why did Father send me here?”
“Did he?” said Guinevere. “Or was it the Lady of the Lake who gave Merlin that message? The Lady, whose loyalties we’re not even sure of?”
Tedros’ breath caught in his chest.
He looked at Agatha, doubting himself, doubting everything—
But it was too late.
Down below, the waters had started to churn.
THE LADY ROSE like a dragon, her bald head reflecting the fire of the sunrise. Black pits grooved beneath her eyes, her face more shriveled and deathly than Tedros had imagined it. No longer did she seem Good’s great defender, but instead a Witch of the Woods, haunted and bitter and enraged. She locked on Agatha, her low, deep voice hissing across the water.
“You promised. You promised to leave me in peace.” She flew across the lake, her tattered gray robes like shredded wings, and thrust her face in Agatha’s. “You’re a liar. A liar—”
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Tedros retorted, shielding his princess. “You’re one to talk about promises. You broke your own vow. To protect Good. To protect Camelot. You’ve put our entire world at risk by kissing a Snake.”
“He had the heir’s blood. The king’s blood,” the Lady spat at him, her breath salty and old. “And yet you come here, acting like I serve you. Like you’re the king.”
“We’re not here for you,” said Tedros firmly. “We’ve come to visit my father’s grave. I have that right.”
The Lady laughed. “You’re not king. You have no rights here. None. This is my domain. I could kill you all if I wish. I still have enough powers left for that.”
Tedros felt Agatha back up behind him, Dovey’s bag to her chest, as if she took this threat seriously. The prince stood his ground. “Excalibur gave you a message for me. A command from my father. The king you served faithfully his entire life. I’ve come to obey that command. And if you loved my father, you’ll let me into your waters.”
“You’re a fool,” the nymph lashed. “I loved your father because he was a good king. Better than any other that came before. That’s why I made Excalibur for him. A sword that rejected you. A sword that his heir, the true king, pulled from the stone.”
“Wrong,” said Tedros. “Rhian pulled the sword from the stone and now he’s dead. His brother, his murderer, sits on the throne. The boy you kissed. Excalibur thought one brother was king; you thought the other brother was king. Both can’t be right. Even a fool would know that.”
The Lady glared at him, her whole body starting to quake, her eyes steaming furious tears. “Go. Now. Before I fill these waters with your blood.”
Tedros could see Agatha fiddling with Dovey’s bag. Why wasn’t she saying anything? He turned his ire on the Lady. “You made a mistake. A mistake that will destroy the Storian and end our world unless I save it. Take me to my father’s grave.”
“You trespass here and accuse me?” the Lady seethed.
“I order you to let me pass,” the prince charged.
“This is your last warning!”
“And this is yours. Let me pass.”
“I’ll tear you apart!”
“Let me pass!”
“You liar! You snake!” the Lady screamed.
“LET ME PASS!” Tedros bellowed.
The Lady snatched him into her taloned fists and hammered him down towards the water with such force he’d tear into pieces the instant he hit the surface. Tedros thrashed against her, bracing for his death—
—just as he saw his princess sprint across the shore, a crystal ball in her arms. With a flying leap, Agatha