it’s unclear whether they’ll succeed.”
The king’s blue-green eyes flattened. “And who would this nameless avenger be?”
“Mmmm, can’t say,” said Willam, puffing at his red hair. “But you’ll meet them soon, looks like. Near a holy place . . . with lots of people . . . and a priest . . .”
“A Blessing at a church, perhaps?” said the king witheringly.
“Oh dear, we should definitely postpone, then,” Sophie pushed weakly, but she knew the boys had laid it on too thick, for Rhian was smirking now.
“Anything else you’d like to tell me about my nemesis?” he sneered.
Sensing tension, Bogden flung down new cards, but missed his own lap and scattered the whole deck over the carriage. “Oopsy-daisy—”
Willam scrambled and swiped a few cards from under Rhian’s boot. “Um, here we are. See, Magician, next to Hermit . . . Well, based on this, your enemy will be a . . .” He frowned. “Ghost?”
“But still mortal,” Bogden prattled, pointing at a Death card.
“And Tower over Death means they can fly,” Willam added.
“Or at least levitate,” Bogden nodded.
“And it’s a boy,” said Willam.
“I see a girl,” said Bogden.
“One or the other,” Willam offered.
The carriage went quiet. Sophie’s head was in her hands.
The king leaned back. “So a ghost that’s mortal who flies near a church and is of dubious sex. That’s who’s going to try and stop me. Well done.”
Sophie raised her head like a squirrel.
“You two really are as daft as Sophie promised,” the king thrashed. “The second we return, you’ll be thrown back in the dungeons.” His eyes shot to Hort. “You too, since you vouched for these fruit flies. In the meantime, you three will be locked here during the Blessing. The smell of you alone is good reason to have you out of sight.”
Rhian glowered at Sophie, daring her to protest, but she tried her best to look untroubled. Then she turned and stared out the window, her eyes welling.
Every time she thought she had a way out, she found the path sealed off, the maze closing in.
In the glass, she could see Rhian watching her in her reflection as a tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t bother hiding it. It didn’t matter. There was no plan now. She was back where she’d started.
The boys would return to jail.
The Blessing would continue.
Tedros would die.
Flying ghost or not.
THE BOYS IN the carriage were subdued the rest of the way, the king included. Sophie could see Rhian’s lips pressed together, his eyes fixed on the Empress tarot card, which had never been retrieved from under his boot. Clearly his brother was still on his mind. Meanwhile, Hort kept glancing at Sophie, but she ignored him, while Willam and Bogden quietly reordered their cards. For a moment, it was so silent in the carriage that Sophie could hear the eel slithering around on Hort’s skin.
Sophie gazed at the Empress, smiling so emptily from under the king’s boot. A pawn in someone else’s game.
That’s me, Sophie thought. A pawn at a dead end.
What would Agatha do?
Agatha would find a way to fight back, even from a dead end. Agatha would never be a pawn.
Sophie’s heart stirred, thinking of her best friend. How long until Kei and his men get to school? Without Lady Lesso or Dovey protecting the towers, surely they’d find their way in. Plus, Agatha had already escaped Rhian’s clutches once—twice was asking too much, even for a girl who always seemed to land on her feet like a cat.
Speaking of which . . . where was Reaper? The last she’d seen of Agatha’s hideous pet was in the castle before the battle against the Snake. Sophie’s toes curled tighter around the vial hidden in her shoe. If she could only be alone: she could use her Quest Map and see if Agatha was safe or if Rhian’s men had apprehended her . . .
A surging buzz drew her out of her head and Sophie flinched, knowing she was about to glimpse the crowds for the Blessing. Ironic, of course, since she’d spent her whole life coveting fame, but now felt allergic to all of it, eager to return to the castle. Alone in her bathtub, she could pretend this was a bad dream. That this wedding could never happen. That this lie would be found out. But it was outside the castle, in the presence of the people, that she knew she was wrong.
Because people can make a lie real.
The same way they make fairy tales real: