A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,57

high window.

“The real choir,” Devan answered. “Switched clothes with us because they’re from Camelot and don’t trust Rhian and think Tedros is king.”

“Plus, you gave us gold,” added the last choirboy, falling out the window with a yelp, coins trailing behind him.

Devan looked at Sophie. “Tried to tell them the Courier’s right: that the Snake is alive and that he’s Rhian’s twin and that Agatha has a secret army . . . but even Tedros’ biggest fans didn’t believe us.”

“Would you believe it? It sounds ridiculous,” said Sophie. “But wait: tell me about Agatha! She’s safe, isn’t she? We have to check the Quest Map. . . .” She reached for her shoe, but Valentina grabbed her by the shoulders—

“Señorita Sophie, there’s no time! Where is the royal carriage? The one that brought you here.”

“Somewhere near the church—”

“Who’s guarding it?” Bodhi asked, pulling a folded-up cape from a bag.

“One of the Snake’s scims. Hort, Bogden, and Willam are there too,” said Sophie. “They’re trapped inside with it!”

“Five boys, one eel. We’ll take those odds,” said Bodhi, slipping the shimmery cape over him as he and Laithan swept towards the window.

For a second, Sophie was distracted by the cape, which looked familiar, but then she realized what they were saying. “You’re attacking the royal carriage?”

The two boys smiled as they straddled the window, Bodhi hugging Laithan under his cloak. “More like reclaiming it,” piped Bodhi. “For Tedros,” chimed Laithan. They backflipped off the ledge and disappeared like ghosts.

Sophie put a hand to her chest. “Who needs Tedros with boys like that?”

A hard knock on the door—

Sophie and her students whipped their heads forward.

“The king wants to begin!” the priest’s hoary voice called as Aja held the door shut.

“Coming!” said Valentina, spinning to Sophie. “We need to get you to school, Señorita Sophie. Here’s the plan. You’ll sing Budhava’s hymn to the Lion with us—”

“Can we sing something else? I don’t know that song,” Sophie wisped.

“Dios mío, it doesn’t matter if you know it! Just sing it!” Valentina snapped.

“And when we get to the phrase ‘oh virile Lion’ . . . duck,” said Aja.

“That’s the plan?” Sophie said, perplexed. “Duck?”

A scratching noise echoed overhead and Sophie looked up to see two kids in black masks scooting through a cramped stone airway. They lowered their masks, revealing blond Bert and blonder Beckett.

“Definitely duck,” they said.

“TODAY, WE BLESS young Rhian and Sophie as a reminder that despite all the festivities to come . . . marriage is first and foremost a spiritual union,” spoke the old priest before a quiet audience. “There is no way to tell if a marriage is favored, of course. First, Arthur marries Guinevere in the throes of love, only to have that love be his downfall. Then, I planned to marry Arthur’s eldest son, Tedros, to his own princess, only to discover Tedros isn’t Arthur’s eldest son at all. And now, a stranger from Foxwood and the Witch of Woods Beyond seek my blessing to be King and Queen of Camelot. So what do I know?” The priest hacked a laugh. “But no marriage can outwit the pen of fate. All we can do is let the story unfold. In time, the truth will be written, no matter how many lies someone might tell to obscure it. And the truth comes with an army.”

Sophie could see Rhian glaring at the back of the priest’s head as he perched in his throne on the elevated stage. The dignitaries seemed oblivious to the priest’s message, but the king had heard it loud and clear: he may have expunged those loyal to Tedros from the castle, but he’d have no such ally in the church. Rhian sensed Sophie watching him and glanced over at her, ensconced with the choir. He gave her a baffled look, as if he knew he’d agreed to let her sing with them but couldn’t remember why.

“Before I read from the Scroll of Pelagus, we’ll begin with a hymn,” said the priest, nodding at his singers. Sophie’s students tilted their faces beneath their hats, so the priest wouldn’t see his choir had been hijacked. “Ordinarily, Camelot’s choir sings to exalt a sacred power that unites us all,” the priest continued, dwarfed by a giant Lion head casting a glow on his altar, “but today, the choir has chosen to sing about our new king instead.” Rhian’s glare deepened behind him. “And in a further departure from the norm, the choir shall be joined by our new princess .