kids’ trust as their leader. And she needed that trust for the war to come.
Over Halfway Bay, fairies flew Manley up to the School Master’s tower, so he could reinforce his shield against Rhian’s men from a closer distance. All the while, Agatha watched the sky beyond the tower, waiting for the signal from Camelot. The library was quiet around her, the only sound the labored breathing of the new librarian, a withered gray-whiskered goat, who stamped books so listlessly that Agatha wondered if he might die before he got through his pile. Nor did he show the faintest curiosity as to why the whole school had herded into his library to stare at a crystal ball. He continued to stamp—fump, fump, fump—the slow pace clashing with Agatha’s restless heartbeat as she pinned her eyes to the empty sky, her breath shallowing, a sense of doom crawling up her throat. . . .
Then a tiny flare appeared far away: a crisscrossing navy-and-pink helix, like an accidental firework.
Agatha exhaled. “Bodhi’s and Laithan’s glows. They made it through Camelot’s gates without being seen.”
“They’re safe!” cheered a lively, dark-haired girl labeled PRIYANKA.
First years broke out in applause—
“Premature,” Professor Anemone clipped anxiously. “Now comes the real danger. Bodhi and Laithan have to sneak onto the Gold Tower hill and wait for Agatha’s bubble to appear, so she can show them the precise spot on the hill where they can break into the dungeons. Agatha, meanwhile, has to use the crystal ball to find this spot. And quickly. Every second Bodhi and Laithan spend on the castle grounds waiting for Agatha is a second too many.”
The students hushed again.
Agatha focused on the crystal ball.
Nothing happened.
“Look directly into its center,” Princess Uma urged.
“Don’t blink,” Professor Sheeks nagged.
“I know,” Agatha gritted.
But still, the ball didn’t work.
Bodhi and Laithan were looking for her bubble on the hill at this very moment. . . . They were counting on her to appear. . . .
In the crystal’s reflection, she could see students creeping towards her from behind, trying to get a closer look—
“BE STILL, PEONS!” Castor boomed.
“Shhh!” Professor Anemone hissed.
Agatha took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Be still.
Be still.
Be still.
She couldn’t remember how to be still. She couldn’t remember the last time she was still.
Then a memory surfaced.
Her and Sophie by a lake in Gavaldon . . . a breeze rippling the surface, their bodies intertwined on the shore . . . their breaths synched, the silence endless . . . two best friends, basking in a sunset, wishing it would last forever. . . .
Agatha opened her eyes.
The crystal glowed blue.
Strands of silver curled towards her and the phantom appeared.
“Clear as crystal, hard as bone,
My wisdom is Clarissa’s and Clarissa’s alone.
But she named you her Second, so I’ll speak to you too.
So tell me, dear Second, whose life shall I cue?
A friend or an enemy, any name I’ll allow,
Say it loud and I’ll show you them now.”
“Show me Tedros,” she ordered.
“As you wish,” the crystal replied.
The silver phantom dispersed into mist and reassembled, depicting a scene within the ball—
Tedros bursting into the Theater of Tales, a rose in one hand, a sword in his other, as he fenced playfully against handsome Everboys, all the while grinning at girls in the audience.
“That isn’t ‘now,’” Agatha said, dismayed. “That’s his first day of school! That was years ago!”
The crystal ball glitched, the scene stuttering and breaking apart into a thousand tiny crystal orbs within the larger one, each little bauble replaying the same clip of Tedros fencing the boys. Then a storm of blue lightning shot through the orb, rejoining the mini-crystals into a new scene. . . . Tedros as a young child, hiding under the bed in that strange guest room Agatha once saw in Camelot’s White Tower, the prince giggling to himself as fairies zoomed through looking for him. . . .
The crystal glitched harder, faster—
This time it showed two Tedroses running together through the Woods, both shirtless and bloody . . . then Tedros as a baby, playing with Merlin’s hat . . . then Tedros with Agatha underwater, peering into the crystal with her like she was now. . . .
“There is something very wrong with that ball,” Yuba murmured.
“Dovey said it was broken, but not like this,” Agatha fretted, grabbing the ball with both hands. Without her help, Bodhi and Laithan would be stranded at Rhian’s castle. The crystal had to work. “Show me Tedros the way he is!” she spewed. “Not as