A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,89

the Woods without limit. Or he could kill his enemies, enslave the kingdoms, and control every soul in the Woods like a puppetmaster does a puppet.”

The shadow of the king grew, bigger, bigger, and in this shadow, a new scene played: three scrawny hags atop wooden boxes, preaching to passersby in the square.

“My theory was widely dismissed, likely because no one wanted to entertain the thought of a single Man possessing so much power. To reject my theory was to keep the rings and the balance of Man and Pen intact. And yet, there were some ardent believers: most significantly, the Mistral Sisters of Camelot, who King Arthur brought in as his advisors before his death. Other proponents included Evelyn Sader, former Dean of the School for Girls; Rebesham Hook, grandson of Captain Hook; and Queen Yuzuru of Foxwood, who believed she was the One True King. But in the end, the solidarity of the Woods prevailed, their rings uniting them in trust of the sacred pen . . .”

The mist over the book began to dissipate.

“. . . for now.”

The chapter went dark.

So did Agatha’s fingerglow.

Eyes met around the room, Evers and Nevers trying to decipher what they’d just heard. The whole school seemed to draw a collective breath.

“There’s a catwalk to the tower!” a pirate shouted outside. “Lookie!”

“Get to the catwalk!” Kei commanded.

Pirate roars echoed over a low rattle of thunder.

“They found us,” Kiko peeped, glancing at her scared friends and teachers.

Agatha leaned across the windowsill to get a look, but Hort snagged her back.

“That’s how my dad died,” he glared. “Doing something stupid.”

“I don’t get it. Storian knows we’re in trouble. That’s why it sent us to that book,” Anadil muttered, rubbing her bandaged arm. “How did any of that help us?”

Agatha had the same question.

“I told you it’s all malarkey,” Professor Manley harrumphed. “No one knows what that inscription says. No one has the slightest clue. Just a bunch of guesses to suit those making them.”

Except Agatha was considering the Storian now, its carvings still glowing as it hovered over the painting of this very scene . . . “Dot, what’s that spell you used in the breezeway? The one that zoomed into the crystal ball—”

“Mirrorspell? That’s my spell,” Hester swiped, crawling towards Agatha, already anticipating what she was going to ask next.

“Show me the inscription,” Agatha told her.

Hester pointed her glowing fingertip at the Storian and immediately a two-dimensional projection floated over the floor, magnifying the mysterious script.

On their knees, students and teachers gathered closer, gazing at the enlarged symbols . . . at a hundred tiny squares buried inside them like seeds . . . and inside every square, a black or white swan. . . .

“Just like the book said,” Agatha pointed out. “Can’t all be malarkey, then.”

Only she noticed something.

Something different about the inscription from the way it looked in the book.

There were empty squares in it.

Two of them, to be precise.

Two blank boxes, where a swan should be, the glow in the carving darkened in those spots like missing teeth.

Suddenly there was a sharp noise and Agatha’s eyes shifted further down the inscription.

A white swan had gone up in flames. It crumpled like burning metal—crackle, whish, pop!—

Then it vanished. Just like the two others.

Only now another swan was on fire. A black one.

Then five more swans . . . no, ten more . . . no, more than that, combusting too fast for Agatha to count—crackle, whish, pop!—as they disappeared from the Storian’s steel.

“What’s happening?” Professor Anemone said nervously.

It can only mean one thing, Agatha thought.

“They’re burning their rings,” she said. “The leaders are burning their rings.”

Her heart pumped harder.

Everything Rhian had done . . .

Saving kingdoms from the Snake.

Picking Sophie as his queen.

Telling lies with Lionsmane.

He’d had a bigger plan all along.

“Camelot isn’t what he wants,” she said, hearing her voice tighten. “Rhian wants the Storian. To destroy it. To become it. To rule as the One True King.”

“Horsecrap,” Professor Manley scorched. “We told you there’s no proof!”

“Then why did the Storian lead us to that book?” Agatha said intensely. “This is what it wanted us to see. Leaders are burning their rings. Something’s happened. Something that’s making them swear loyalty to Rhian over the Storian. Over the school. And it’s that loyalty that keeps the Storian alive. If all of them burn their rings . . . if that carving disappears . . . then Rhian will control the Woods. Professor Sader’s theory was right. That’s why the Storian’s