A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,25

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