Quests for Glory

  “It means the unrest in the Woods is as carefully planned as the quest assignments are,” Professor Dovey cut in, sounding as teacherly as when she’d taught his Good Deeds class. “The Snake doesn’t want the entire Woods in upheaval. He only wants the kingdoms closest to Camelot to suffer and he’s paying his minions to target these kingdoms specifically.”

  “But why the kingdoms around Camelot instead of Camelot?” Lancelot asked. “And why these small-time attacks? Fires? Looting? Bees? Why not just come for Tedros?”

  “Oh, he’s coming for Tedros. And soon. That is a certainty,” said Merlin.

  “Let him come for me,” Tedros retorted, fists clenched. “I’ll kill him—”

  “And that is precisely the Snake’s plan. To bait you into a fight you are not ready for,” said Merlin sternly. “You have no army yet. The people of Camelot doubt your place and fitness as king. The kingdoms around Camelot are plagued by chaos and fear, their rulers desperately calling on Camelot to save them as it has always done before. Only this time, Camelot’s king has done nothing to help them. And yet . . . you still think you’re ready to fight?”

  “I’m King Arthur’s son—” Tedros defended.

  “A king is only as strong as his kingdom. A king is only as strong as his allies. A king is only as strong as his army. You are not strong, Tedros, and the Snake knows it,” said Merlin, bearing down. “You are as weak now as your father was in the last year of his reign. And his weakness led not only to his death, but to the fall of the kingdom into enemy hands.”

  Tedros went quiet.

  “The Snake is well aware of your father’s history,” said the wizard. “He will not give you the time to build an army or get stronger. Soon he’ll reveal himself to the Woods as the mastermind behind all these attacks and dare you to battle him on a grand stage. And it’s quite clear what this stage will be.”

  Tedros paled. “The Four Point,” he said, meeting the wizard’s eyes. “Where Dad was wounded.”

  “It’s surely why he tricked the Lady of the Lake into kissing him. So the Four Point would no longer be protected,” said the wizard. He pointed towards a tiny territory on the map not far from Camelot, where two Ever kingdoms and two Never kingdoms met: Jaunt Jolie, Kingdom Kyrgios, Ravenbow, and Bloodbrook. “The Four Point isn’t just a symbol of King Arthur’s reign. It is the only reason there is lasting peace between Good and Evil—a truce point that reminds kingdoms Camelot will fight to protect the balance. The people of the Woods are terrified right now. If the Snake murders you on the same spot your father suffered a fatal blow, it means he is not just more powerful than King Arthur, but more powerful than his legacy. With that kind of power, I assure you, no one will stop him from walking into Camelot and taking your crown. Regardless of what becomes of Excalibur.”

  “Which is why I should ride out there right now,” Tedros returned, rising from his seat—

  “No, it’s why you shouldn’t ride out there at all,” said Merlin. “Did you hear anything I just said? The Four Point will be a trap. And to fight the Snake there is to fall right into it.”

  The young king stared at him, still on his feet. “So I should let him violate Camelot’s land? My father’s sacred memorial? I have to stop him—”

  “With no Excalibur and no Lady of the Lake?” Professor Dovey said, echoing the wizard. “On land that he’s been scouting for weeks? Stay the course, Tedros, just like you planned. Build alliances. Build your army for the bigger war to come.”

  “I don’t need Excalibur. I don’t need the Lady of the Lake,” Tedros persisted. “I have to fight for my people. I’m their leader, Merlin. I’m their defender. If he even gets near the Four Point, I’ll slit this reptile’s throat and prove I’m king once and for all.”

  “Tedros is right,” Lancelot jumped in. “He can’t let the Four Point go undefended. I’ll ride with him and fight by his side.”

  “It’s too dangerous!” said Guinevere, clearly distressed now that her love’s life was at risk.

  “Arthur and I always took on the most dangerous enemies ourselves. You know that, Gwen,” Lancelot growled. “That was his duty as king. That was my duty as his knight. That’s how we kept this kingdom safe.”

  “But this is Tedros, not Arthur,” Guinevere came back. “Last time you and Tedros fought together, you ended up impaled to a tree by the School Master and nearly bled to death. Even you said that your shoulder isn’t the same since. And now you want to ride into battle again? Listen to Merlin and Professor Dovey. Both of you. Don’t do anything rash.”

  “Mother, I know I am not my father. Thank you for reminding me of that,” Tedros said coldly. “But Agatha and my friends are out there in the Woods fighting my quest. I can’t let them risk their lives for me any longer.” He turned to Merlin. “This is my destiny as king. No one else’s. You can’t stop me from fighting—”

  “I’m not trying to stop you from fighting, Tedros,” said the wizard. “I’m trying to stop you from fighting before you are ready. This is a Snake who duped Good’s greatest sorceress. A Snake who thinks he’s the rightful king. He will not fight fairly and you must be prepared. If you fight him on his terms, he will kill you and your queen, just like he already killed your best friend.”

  Tedros fell silent.

  “Four Point is only a three-hour ride from here. We should leave now, Tedros,” Lancelot forced, ignoring Merlin. “Don’t listen to the wizard. You and I beat the School Master, after all.”

  “Only because I had a plan and brought you an army,” Merlin said sharply.

  Lancelot opened his mouth to argue, then closed it.

  Tedros looked between the wizard, the Dean, his mother, and the knight, thinking carefully.

  Then he turned to Merlin.

  “Let’s get back to building our army,” said the king.

  Guinevere exhaled. Lancelot sank back in his chair and glowered out the window, rubbing at his shoulder.

  The wizard continued: “If we are to build an army to fight the Snake, then we will need allies. Tedros must immediately convene a summit of Ever and Never leaders from the affected kingdoms. Despite the fact that you’ve ignored their pleas for help, you must assure them that Camelot is still on their side—and that you are the only ruler who still has all of their interests at heart.”

  Tedros nodded, trying to look confident.

  “Until that summit occurs and while Agatha’s crew tracks the Snake’s movements, the five of us must be our own crew with our own task. . . .” Merlin looked around the table. “We need to find out who this Snake might be. And more importantly, where he gets his power.”

  Merlin turned to Professor Dovey. “On that note, perhaps it’s best if I visit the Lady of the Lake myself.”

  “You can’t go now, Merlin. I need you,” the Dean breathed, quickly and tight-lipped as if she didn’t want the others to hear.

  “You’re more than ready to do it on your own,” the wizard murmured.

  “Something’s still bothering me, Merlin,” said Guinevere, interrupting them. “Even if the Snake is Arthur’s family, Tedros has the throne by birthright. He is Arthur’s first and only son. No amount of Arthur’s blood can challenge that.”

  The wizard gazed at her thoughtfully. “Quite right, Guinevere. Unless, of course, by ‘Arthur’s blood,’ the Snake meant—”

  He paused.

  “Unless he meant . . . what,” Tedros pushed.

  Merlin turned to the Dean. “I’m afraid I need to depart at once, Clarissa. I’ll see you at school in a few days’ time.”

  He stood and gathered his cape and hat, leaving the Dean dismayed.

  “But, Merlin—” Dovey pleaded.

  “You’ll do quite fine without me, Clarissa. Just stay vigilant,” he said cryptically as he headed for the door. “As for the rest of you, I’ll leave you to your afternoon meeting, which Clarissa would be wise to avoid as well, since it concerns the only thing in the world wizards and fairy godmothers are deathly
allergic to.”

  “What’s that?” Tedros asked.

  “Money,” said Merlin, without looking back.

  “The advisors want to talk to me?” Tedros said, eyes wide. “Lady Gremlaine has been trying to arrange a meeting between me and them for six months and their only response has been to urinate in their food and throw it in her direction.”

  “Well, apparently, they’ve changed their minds,” said the Treasury Master, not looking up from his ledger. “Sent a scrap of paper through a guard named Kei. He couldn’t find Lady Gremlaine so he brought it to me.”

  The Treasury Master was an egg-shaped, fleshy figure, no taller than a baby Christmas tree, with a bald pate, floppy ears, and enormous gold glasses that took up most of his pug-nosed, pink-skinned face. Tedros couldn’t tell if he was human or ogre.

  “They’ll see you after supper and they made it clear you’re to be alone,” said the Treasury Master. He lifted his head and looked at Lancelot and Guinevere, seated beside Tedros, then went back to his ledger. “I summoned you to give you the message, so now that it’s delivered, I assume our meeting is at an end—”

  “Not so fast,” said Lancelot. “We have more questions, Treasury Master.”

  As the knight interrogated him, Tedros lapsed into his thoughts. After six months, his father’s advisors had agreed to see him. The advisors who’d driven Camelot into debt. The advisors who’d done something with its gold. Finally he would get answers.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand the question,” the Treasury Master was saying, perched between stacks of soggy ledgers and chewing the end of his red pencil.

  “You don’t understand the question? Or do you not understand words in general?” Lancelot bullied, still pent up from the lunch meeting.

  “Lance,” Guinevere said, before simpering at the Treasury Master. “All we’re asking is how are we still losing money now that the advisors are in jail? Since Tedros took the throne, the kingdom has been collecting taxes fairly and he’s cut spending to the bone. Camelot should be bringing in more gold than before. Not falling deeper and deeper into debt—”

  “Accounting is a complicated field, Lady Guinevere,” said the Treasury Master vacantly. “Best left to the likes of men.”

  Guinevere’s face changed. She glanced at Lancelot.

  The knight cracked his knuckles. “Who appointed you Treasury Master, kind sir?”

  “The Council of Advisors brought me in after Arthur’s death, given my sterling reputation. And I have a contract for a twelve-year term, so my position is secure,” said the Treasury Master, holding his gaze. “Speaking of security, isn’t there still a bounty on both of your heads?”

  Lancelot leaned in. “You’re welcome to try to collect.”

  Tedros couldn’t concentrate.

  His mind was on Excalibur.

  Was the sword waiting for him to kill the Snake?

  Or was it waiting for the Snake to kill Tedros?

  Tedros gritted his teeth. He could feel his fingers twitching. . . . How could he hold back for an army? . . . He wanted to fight the Snake right now. . . .

  He took a deep breath.

  Merlin and Professor Dovey were right. His father had ridden into the Battle of the Four Point weak and without a plan and lost everything. Tedros couldn’t make the same mistake. Not just for him, but for Agatha too.

  Agatha.

  His heart clenched thinking of his true love out in the Woods with her crew, tracking a deadly villain. He wished he could have spoken to Professor Dovey before she left. She was the last person to talk to Agatha and he wanted to know how she was and why she hadn’t written when she promised she would. But now Tedros was thinking about the Storian’s last page. . . . “Arthur’s blood . . .” Why had Merlin gone just as he seemed to figure out what the words meant? Was there someone in Arthur’s family who wanted the crown? Someone willing to kill his son for it? Someone Merlin knew? Tedros thought back to what Lady Gremlaine had said in the Hall of Kings. . . . “How little you know of your father . . .” And yet, deep inside, he had the sinking feeling that they were all wrong . . . that they had missed the real meaning of the Lady of the Lake’s words. . . .

  But now Tedros was thinking of the summit he had to call to build an army. He’d put off answering the urgent letters from neighboring kingdoms because Camelot had zero to offer them. If he went ahead with a summit, he’d have to face them all in person. . . .

  “Tedros?” his mother’s voice said.

  He looked up to see her, Lance, and the Treasury Master staring at him.

  “Oh. Um, what was the question?” Tedros asked.

  Lance glowered. “I told Humpty Dumpty here to show me Camelot’s accounts and he said no and I said show me or I’ll give you the beating of your life and he said only the king can order him to show the kingdom’s books—”

  “And he isn’t officially king,” said the Treasury Master, barely looking at Tedros. “Which means maybe I should call some guards and see if they’re interested in splitting a bounty.” He grinned at Guinevere and Lancelot. “Think there’s just enough gold in the kingdom left for that.”

  Maybe it was the way the fat little twit said it. Or the way he ignored Tedros like he was a kitchen maid. Or maybe now that a Snake wanted his crown, Tedros finally felt like a Lion. Whatever it was, it made Tedros stand up.

  “I’m the only king you have at the moment, my friend. So as long as you plan to remain at Camelot, you and everyone else in this castle are under my command. Which means you’ll hand over the kingdom’s books without another word and you’ll never threaten my mother and Lancelot again. First things first, though.”

  Tedros turned to Lance. “You have a beating to give.”

  The Treasury Master gasped.

  Tedros knew from experience that Lancelot could inflict remarkable pain in a short time. The Treasury Master didn’t fare well, then. Bruised and whimpering behind the desk like a dying cat, he quiveringly handed over all of Camelot’s ledgers, which Lance, Tedros, and his mother lugged into a Blue Tower sitting room and spread out over the tattered mohair carpet.

  The palm plant in the corner of the room was dead, the powder-blue wallpaper had water bubbles in it, and the cracked ceiling leaked onto the fireplace mantel, drip, drip, drip. A few mosquitoes buzzed around their heads. But the three of them stayed hunched on the carpet for hours, barely speaking as they scoured the Treasury Master’s books. Soon the sky dimmed through the windows and stewards put down plates of chicken tikka and saffron rice, which were eaten hastily and shoved aside so they could get back to work.

  Finally Lancelot looked up. “They taxed the poor and the middle class at double the rates Arthur did and cut the taxes of the wealthiest landowners. That’s obvious. But it still looks like we have plenty of money coming into the accounts. More than enough to build an army.”

  “But if revenues are up, how can we be bankrupt? That’s what I don’t understand,” said Guinevere. “Who has the expense books—”

  “I do and they all look fine too,” said Tedros, peering at a ledger. “Well, except the expenses for CB. Those numbers are astronomical. Must be where all the extra money went. But that’s to be expected after Dad died.”

  “What’s CB?” Guinevere asked.

  “‘Camelot Beautiful,’” Tedros answered. “Advisors started the fund after Dad died to help maintain and refurbish the castle. Agatha’s been raising money for it the past six months—”

  He stopped talking.

  Slowly they took in the room around them . . . the warped wallpaper . . . dripping ceiling . . . molting plant . . .

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” said Lancelot. “Whatever money’s in that fund isn’t going to Camelot Beautiful.”

  Guinevere shook her head. “Where is it going, then? Where is all of Camelot’s gold?”

  “Only one way to find out,” said Tedros, snapping his book shut. He stood and straightened his crown, his eyes crystal blue, his face rega
l, looking like the Tedros in the Hall of Kings.

  “It’s time for me to meet these advisors.”

  15

  AGATHA

  Pirate Pavilion

  “Arthur’s blood? What do you mean the Snake has Arthur’s blood!” Nicola blurted.

  “Shh! They’ll hear us!” Sophie snapped. “Agatha and I were having a private conversation—”

  “Your voice is so screechy there’s nothing private about it.”

  “You moldy little toadstool—”

  “Is this really the time to be bickering?” Agatha hissed between them.

  The three girls were chained by the hands, one behind the other, with Bogden, Willam, Hort, Dot, Anadil, and Hester fixed to the same chain in lockstep ahead of them. Four teenage pirates in black leather, wielding curved swords, rode on horseback, two ahead, two behind, marshaling the prisoners through Jaunt Jolie, paved with yellow and pink brick, hot under their feet from the broiling summer sun. Agatha could see townspeople peeping from houses, many with black eyes or gashed cheeks.

  “This is an Ever kingdom. Why aren’t they helping us?” Sophie whispered, tripping over her long, ruffly blue dress. “Aren’t Evers supposed to rescue Good from the clutches of Evil?”

  “You’re not Good,” Agatha grumbled, dripping sweat. “Plus, they’re probably relieved it’s not them. Also, don’t you have any questing clothes?”

  “Like your tomboy getup? You look like a mill worker, while I look like Wendy from Peter Pan, only not as helpless or dull. I told Boobeshwar to hem it, but the fool’s run off with his fiancée—”

  Sophie stumbled on her dress again and a shirtless pirate smacked her hard with his horse reins. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, with a bony torso, a peeling sunburnt face, and a nose broken in two places.

  “Izzis what lasses look like atta School for Evil? Pity I aint creepin’ the halls, then,” he chuckled, leering down at her. “School Master passed my house by on kidnappin’ night. Musta thought little ol’ Wesley wouldn’t turn out Evil enough. Too bad. We coulda been friends.” He curled towards Sophie, flashing snaggly teeth. “Bet ye smell like warm cherry pie.”