A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,46

her . . . to tell her he had a plan . . . but his spying eel was around his ear again, back at attention.

Meanwhile, he could feel guilt gnawing at him, as if he was cheating on Nicola by being here with Sophie.

Don’t be an idiot. Nicola would want him to do anything it took to save his friends. And it’s not like he was trying to make Sophie his girlfriend. Those days were over. He had Nic now: a girl who loved him for who he was, unlike Sophie, who’d never thought he was good enough. Well, soon he’d have the last laugh. Because he was going to show Sophie he was good enough . . . Just in a strictly platonic way.

He saw a maid approaching, older than the ones in Sophie’s room—

Hort startled.

Guinevere.

Her lips were sealed by a scim like the one on his ear. Which meant she too was under the king’s eye.

But there was something else, Hort noticed. Something near her ear. Something tiny and purple tucked deep in her white hair that the scim on her mouth couldn’t see . . . A flower. Tedros’ mother never wore jewelry or makeup, let alone flowers in her hair, let alone while captive in a murderer’s castle—

But by the time he could get a good look at it, Guinevere was already past them, giving Hort and Sophie only a cursory glance.

Hort refocused, hewing to Sophie’s side as they neared the staircase at the end of the hall. Now wasn’t the time to worry about Tedros’ mother or what she was up to.

Rhian’s waiting, he thought, nuts rubbing in his pocket. You’ll only get one chance.

But as they neared the top of the staircase, Sophie paused over the banister.

Hort followed her eyes to the ground floor.

Rhian sat on King Arthur’s throne, clutching a mug as he perused a large box of green marbles, holding up each one and peering into it like a spyglass. From overhead, Hort could see the copper gleam of his close-cut hair and a jagged scar across the top of his skull. Steam curled off Rhian’s tea and rose over Arthur’s gold throne, Camelot’s crest carved into the back and Lion claws at the end of its arms. The throne occupied an elevated stage, leading down short steps to the rest of the Throne Room. Behind the king, blue sky framed him like a canvas through floor-to-ceiling glass, beyond which Hort could see a gold message in the sky from Rhian’s phony pen, about a boy named Hristo who wanted to be Rhian’s knight. At the king’s feet lay a colossal rug, stretching down the steps, the fabric stitched like a painted tapestry, depicting the scene of . . .

Rhian’s coronation, Hort realized, leaning over the rail.

In rococo hues of blue and gold, Rhian triumphantly pulled Excalibur from the stone, while Tedros, sewn with a gnarled body and ogre’s face, was forced to his knees by guards. In the foreground, the people of Camelot cheered. Sophie was in the scene too, hands clasped, a loving smile on her face as she watched her new husband-to-be.

The scene looked so perfectly rendered, so real, that Hort had to remind himself that it hadn’t happened that way at all.

He glanced at Sophie, who was staring listlessly at the rug, as if the lie might as well be the truth.

Hort scanned the room for Rhian’s twin. The Snake was nowhere to be seen.

But Rhian wasn’t alone.

Those three strange sisters that Hort had seen released from jail lurked at the base of the steps beneath the stage, cloaked in shadow. Two pirate guards in helmets and full armor stood on either side of them.

The sisters seemed tense, their bare feet twitching, as they watched Rhian gaze into each green marble in the box.

“These are the RSVPs to the wedding,” he said. “Many rulers sent messages, showing me how excited their kingdoms are about their new king and queen.” With a lit finger, he floated a handful of green marbles into the air, which cast smoky green projections of scenes from around the Woods: magic carpets departing in Shazabah from a station labeled “WEDDING TOURS,” with mile-long lines of passengers waiting their turn; a beachside congregation in Ooty, where thousands gathered to watch Lionsmane’s new tale glow against the northern lights; a fierce competition in Maidenvale to see who would represent the kingdom in the Circus of Talents; young Hristo’s beaming classmates in Malabar Hills, holding a