A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,81

lesson. . . .” His lips touched her ear. “You can no more reason with a girl than you can with a Snake.”

Sophie spun, glaring into his hateful blue eyes. “You think Agatha will let you kill Tedros? You think the school won’t come for their Dean? They’ll all come.”

The Snake smiled. “We’re counting on it.” He flicked his tongue at her mouth—

Sophie punched him in the head, gashing open his temple with the diamond of Rhian’s ring, sending blood spilling down his brother’s blistered cheek.

Instantly Japeth seized her wrist and for a second, she thought he was going to snap it like a stick. Sophie wrenched away, terrified—

But then she felt a familiar stab of pain and she turned to see her palm dribbling blood, a scim wiggling back into Japeth’s suit . . .

. . . and the skin of his face and chest perfectly restored.

He backed away, grinning, as a black horse sprinted towards him, and he turned and swung onto it. Behind him, twenty pirates in black shirts, black breeches, and black balaclavas rode their own black horses, carrying swords, spears, and clubs. Japeth morphed into his black Snake’s suit and looked up at Aran. “Take her to the castle. My brother’s orders.” Japeth lowered his gaze to Sophie. “The Kingdom Council would like to see her.”

Sophie’s eyes widened as the Snake and his pirates galloped down the hill and out the castle gates, nothing more than dark shadows against the night.

“KING’LL CALL WHEN he wants ya,” said Aran, bringing Sophie and her bandaged palm to the double doors of the Blue Ballroom.

A maid scurried over and whispered in Aran’s ear. Something about the Map Room.

“Don’t move a inch or I’ll cut yer in half,” Aran ordered, following the maid. He reached back and ripped Sophie’s coat off her. “And this ain’t part of your uniform.”

Sophie knew better than to argue. But as soon as he was gone, she tiptoed up to the door of the ballroom and cracked it open, just wide enough to get a peek inside.

A hundred leaders were gathered in the castle’s biggest hall, seated at a constellation of round tables that looked like moons orbiting Rhian’s throne, gleaming on an elevated dais in the center of the room. As the king presided in a clean blue-and-gold suit, Excalibur on his waist, Sophie noticed that each ruler had magically emblazoned their name on the placard in front of them, the names blinking and quivering like moving pictures: THE SULTAN OF SHAZABAH . . . THE QUEEN OF RAJASHAH . . . THE KING OF MERRIMAN . . . THE GRAND VIZIER OF KYRGIOS . . . The ballroom, meanwhile, had been completely overhauled from the stale, crumbly space Sophie remembered: the walls and columns now retiled in mosaics of blue, the floor embellished with a gold Lion crest, and the ceiling fitted with a colossal blue-glass Lion’s head that reflected the king’s throne below.

“So you’re admitting Agatha’s capture was a lie?” said the King of Foxwood, gaping at Rhian.

“In Ooty, liars have all their clothes taken away and they must earn them back, one truth at a time,” drawled an eight-armed female dwarf, sitting high on cushions. She was close enough to the door that Sophie could see she was wearing the same silver ring with carvings that she’d noticed on the Queen of Jaunt Jolie and the Elf King of Ladelflop at the church.

“Tedros may have been a coward, but he didn’t lie,” growled the Wolf King of Bloodbrook, also flaunting a silver ring.

“Except about being king,” said Rhian stonily.

“How can we be sure?” said the Princess of Altazarra, curvy and milk-smooth. “Tedros went to the School for Good like me, where you’re taught not to lie. Clearly you went to a school whose standards were not as exacting.”

“If you lied to us about Agatha’s capture, then you could be lying to us about many things,” said the horned King of Akgul. “This is why we want to talk to Sophie.”

“And you will. I don’t expect you to take my word, given what’s happened. Not until I explain myself. In the meantime, I’ve sent my brother to fetch her,” said Rhian, his eyes moving to the door. Sophie dodged so he wouldn’t see her spying. The king turned back to his audience. “But now it’s my turn to speak.”

“We want to talk to Sophie first,” demanded the Minister of the Murmuring Mountains.

“She’ll tell us the truth!” the Queen of Mahadeva agreed.

“Camelot’s