Quests for Glory

  She tilted his chin towards her.

  Tedros looked into his mother’s fiery eyes.

  “We can’t let that monster win,” said Guinevere.

  Tedros swept through the White Tower, his crown back on his head, peering at a map of the castle grounds in one hand and a ledger accounting for all of Camelot’s weapons in the other. He crossed through the staff dining hall, now turned into a war room, where Chef Silkima and her cooks were filling giant barrels with cooking oil.

  “How many barrels, Silkima?” Tedros asked, without stopping.

  “Sixty-four, sire.”

  “And they’ll detonate easily?”

  “At first flame, sire.”

  The young king strode out of the hall and saw Hort in the corridor, helplessly surrounded by heaps of broken and rusted weapons: maces, spears, axes, swords—

  “This is a holy mess,” said Hort.

  “Which is why I wanted a Hort on my team to fix it,” said Tedros.

  “Aye-aye, sire,” said Hort.

  Tedros veered into the next hall, where Kiko was standing with a beefy, shirtless guard amidst piles of mismatched pieces of armor that Kiko was trying to fit back together. Tedros raised his brows.

  “I told him that if I could watch him put the armor on, then maybe I’d see how it all goes,” Kiko defended.

  Tedros shoved past them and peeked into the stewards’ common room, where two maids were trying to repair a mound of splintered bows and arrows. He glimpsed a few newspapers spread out on a table. On top was the Jaunt Jolie Journal—

  KING TEDROS’ CREW BUNGLES

  SNAKE CAPTURE! LANCELOT DEAD!

  SNAKE ON THE LOOSE!

  Tedros flung it aside to see the latest Camelot Courier—

  SNAKE EYES CAMELOT!

  IS THE LION OUR ONLY HOPE?

  Tedros lifted it up to see the Royal Rot underneath, a huge portrait of Rhian and Sophie on its front page—

  DREAMY LION IN LOVE

  WITH TEDROS’ EX-FLAME?

  Tedros rolled his eyes, hurrying back into the hall. Agatha accosted him, Reaper at her heels.

  “Guinevere and I met with the Treasury Master. Good news is the leaders of our allied kingdoms are contributing weapons, armor, and men to our army. Bad news is they’re only doing this on the condition that the ‘Lion’ lead that army instead of you, since a) he saved so many of their kingdoms from the Snake, and b) they blame you for losing the Snake last night, since Dot is your friend.”

  “And is there a reason these leaders won’t tell me this to my face?” Tedros asked, frowning.

  “When they found out the Lion was in town, they went gaggling out of the castle to try and meet him. Dragged your mother with them.”

  “Whatever,” Tedros growled. “Let them think Rhian is leading the army. He’s my knight. His loyalty is to me, not them.”

  “How else can I help?” Agatha pressed.

  “Check on Rhian’s team in Maker’s Market. I’m worried the Snake or his thugs will find their way in, especially if my mother’s down there,” said Tedros. “If you see anything, shoot your glow into the sky. Don’t try and fight them yourselves. Deal?”

  “Deal,” said Agatha, hurrying away.

  “Agatha?”

  She turned.

  “We are good in war, aren’t we?” said Tedros.

  “I’ll ask Sophie if she can do a war-themed wedding, then,” said Agatha dryly.

  They split in opposite directions, with Tedros heading down a hall, searching for the remainder of his team—

  He tripped over Willam and Bogden, who were dealing tarot cards on the carpet.

  “You can’t be serious,” Tedros said, scowling.

  “We’re saving your kingdom. See, look,” Bogden peeped, holding up a Five of Wands. “Be wary of gifts.”

  “If I’d known I’d get stuck with two astrology-obsessed monkeys, I would have put you on Rhian’s team!”

  “Tarot cards aren’t astrology,” said Willam.

  “Where’s Nicola?” Tedros asked, tempted to give both of them a beating.

  “She said she saw stars and was following them into the bathroom,” said Bogden.

  “Is this more astrology crap?” Tedros barked.

  “No, she literally found stars in the hallway and was following them into the bathroom next to Lady Gremlaine’s old room,” said Willam, his eyes still on the cards. “Hmm. Definitely be wary of gifts.”

  Tedros had no clue what Willam was talking about, but he couldn’t deal with these two nitwits anymore, nor did he want a random first year hovering around his father’s old guest room.

  He hastened through the second floor towards the bathroom—

  Tedros stopped short.

  A white star glowed on the carpet in front of him.

  Merlin’s white star.

  Tedros lifted his eyes.

  More stars lined the hallway, leading up to the closed bathroom door.

  Tedros knocked on it. “Nicola?”

  No answer.

  He turned the knob. “Nicola, you in here?”

  The bathroom was empty, the opposing doors to Lady Gremlaine’s room and the guest room both shut.

  But the trail of stars continued, tracking right to the edge of the guest room door.

  Tedros pulled it open, revealing the dim, airless chamber.

  Nicola wasn’t inside.

  More lit stars dotted the carpet like breadcrumbs, pointing to the bed in the corner.

  He followed them until he was standing over the mattress, where a single star lay on top of its sheets, blinking with white light.

  Tedros waited for something to happen.

  The star kept flashing at him.

  Instinctively, the young king found himself climbing into the stiff bed and sliding under the stale beige sheets. Except the sheets felt oddly thicker than they looked, layered underneath with a heavy blanket that felt soft against Tedros’ skin, made of some kind of wool or . . .

  Velvet.

  Tedros’ heart jumped.

  He yanked the blanket over his head, seeing the glint of silver-sewn stars in the darkness.

  The next thing he knew he was falling.

  As he crawled across the cloud, he saw Merlin seated next to Nicola at its edge, framed against the purple sky, the wizard and first year sharing a chocolate-chunk cookie. Nicola had Merlin’s hat in her hand and was petting it like a dog, the hat purring softly under her palm.

  “Yes, don’t worry, Professor Dovey knows I’m alive,” the wizard was telling her. “Or she will soon, at least. I’ve sent her a note ordering her to remain at school and let Tedros handle affairs at Camelot. After what happened to Lancelot, I don’t want Clarissa to put herself in harm’s way. Especially when she isn’t at her best.”

  “Is she ill?” Tedros asked.

  Merlin turned and saw the young king. “No, she’s not ill,” said the wizard. “Nicola and I were having a nice chat. She happened to come across the trail I left for you, and being a clever little Reader, she found her way to me first.” Merlin saw Tedros’ blank expression. “I’m assuming you two know each other?”

  “Yeah,” said Nicola. “Not really,” said Tedros at the same time.

  “I see,” said Merlin.

  “Can we talk alone?” Tedros pressed the wizard.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just on your team,” said Nicola, standing up.

  “Sorry if I don’t have time for pleasantries. I’m trying to keep all of us alive,” Tedros retorted.

  “So am I, but whatever,” the first year mumbled. “Everyone else is different in real life than they are in books, but you’re pretty much spot-on.” She returned the hat to the wizard. “I’ll see you soon, Merlin—”

  “How am I in books?” said Tedros, frowning.

  Nicola threw him a glance. “High-handed and overemotional.”

  Merlin’s hat whistled.

  “Thanks in advance for that favor, Merlin,” Nicola said.


  Cookie in hand, she cannonballed over the edge of the cloud and vanished into the purple night.

  Tedros settled next to Merlin, shoving the hat away.

  “She wanted a favor?” Tedros asked sourly.

  “Suggested I check on a student’s records from school,” said the wizard.

  “Rhian’s? Dovey already checked on Rhian—”

  “No. Not his. Nicola really is a sharp young girl. I can see why the Storian included her in your—”

  “Lancelot is dead, Merlin,” Tedros cut in, cheeks reddening. “The Snake is coming. War is coming. And you’re sitting here on a cloud, entertaining irrelevant favors from first years. Where have you been!”

  “The answer to that question is always the same, my boy. I’ve been trying to help you. And when I leave at the close of this conversation, an exit to which you will no doubt take great offense, I hope you’ll remember that.”

  “You’re leaving? Now?”

  “Whatever you think I should be doing, Tedros, please believe me when I say that whatever I am doing will prove far more beneficial to your future.”

  “Which is what, exactly!”

  “I cannot tell you,” said Merlin.

  Tedros let out a roar, which resounded through the Celestium, then faded to silence.

  “I will not live forever, Tedros. There is still a bounty on my head. Nor am I immortal or extending my life with leprechaun blood, regardless of what those peons at the Royal Rot write,” said Merlin. “My work with your father remains unfinished. I must carry it through with you until I am dead or the work is done.”

  “When will the work be done?” Tedros asked.

  “On the day I look to you for wisdom instead of you looking to me,” said Merlin.

  “Better invest in leprechaun blood, then,” said Tedros.

  “I am well aware we are running out of time,” said Merlin. “You and me both. The Snake is coming for you. And I’m afraid I have little to offer in the way of help.”

  “‘Little.’ Not ‘nothing,’” said Tedros hopefully.

  “Indeed. On the way here, I stopped in Avalon to see the Lady of the Lake.”

  Tedros straightened. “Did she really give up her powers for the Snake? Did she really . . . kiss him?”

  “She wouldn’t see me, which makes me think she did,” Merlin replied. “She sent me a note through her waters, however, which said that if I promised to never return to her castle, I could ask her one and only one question and she would answer it honestly. Since she was quite clear about not seeing me, I accepted her offer.”

  “What did you ask her?”

  “Whether Excalibur has a message for you,” said the wizard.

  “That’s what you asked the Lady of the Lake? Not what the Snake’s face looks like or who he is or how we beat him or if he’s really my father’s son?” Tedros said, aggrieved. He stared at his mentor. “Well? What was her answer, then? What was Excalibur’s message?”

  Merlin pulled a crinkled scrap of paper from his robes and handed it to him. Tedros looked down at its light, ethereal script:

  Unbury Me

  “Rather cryptic, but at least it’s something,” Merlin sighed. “Though the more I think about it, the less I—” He suddenly noticed Tedros’ expression. “What is it?”

  “My father. He said it in my dream,” said Tedros anxiously. “The same message. ‘Unbury me.’”

  Merlin pulled at his beard. “Do you have any idea what it means?”

  “Looking to me for wisdom already? You’ll be sorely disappointed,” said Tedros. “What’s strange, though, is both my father and Excalibur had the same message. It can’t be literal, then. If I could unbury Excalibur from the stone, I would. And my father can’t possibly want me digging up his grave. So there must be something that connects my father and the sword . . . something hidden that I have to figure out. . . .”

  “And you must figure it out soon, Tedros,” Merlin pressured. “Your father and the Lady of the Lake are trying to help you. ‘Unbury me.’ Those two words are the key. You must find out what they mean. Before it’s too late.”

  “But why more riddles?” Tedros asked, frustrated. “Why can’t they just tell me?”

  “Perhaps answering that riddle is as much a part of your coronation test as pulling the sword,” the wizard replied. “I’m assuming you haven’t tried your hand at Excalibur since you’ve returned to the castle?”

  “No. Not until the Snake is dead. I won’t feel like a king until then.”

  The wizard gazed deeply at him. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who sat upon this cloud only recently, insisting you were a king by birthright. That there was no quest to be had in putting a crown that you already deserved upon your head.”

  “Doesn’t feel like I’ve come a long way,” Tedros replied glumly. “Snake is still loose. Lance is dead.”

  “Let me ask you a question,” said Merlin. “When you looked into the Snake’s eyes, did you see a brother?”

  “No. I saw pure darkness,” said Tedros. “Loathing and fury like I’ve never witnessed before. Not even in Rafal or Aric or Evelyn Sader or . . . anyone. How could someone hate me so much? Why?”

  “And yet he didn’t kill you.”

  Tedros looked at him. “Maybe he wants to kill me in pieces. By killing everyone I love first. By murdering everyone I’m supposed to protect. By shoving my failures in my face.”

  “Is he succeeding?” Merlin asked.

  The young king didn’t answer. Finally, he looked at the wizard. “If I didn’t have Rhian, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Merlin smiled. “Ah. Nicola was telling me about this Rhian boy, who’s saved your lives and showed so much courage and skill. I’m not surprised, really. Foxwood boys are exceedingly well-trained. Ask him what house he was in at the Foxwood School for Boys. My old friend Brunhilde was the Housemaster of Arbed House at that school. Though he certainly won’t have been in her house—”

  Tedros didn’t have time for diversions. “Listen, Agatha said something to me. That the Snake has a fake Storian. A pen that writes the story from his point of view, where he is the Lion and I am the Snake. The Snake said our Ever After isn’t real. That our fairy tale wouldn’t really end until everything that is true becomes ‘untrue.’ But that’s impossible. No one would believe I’m the Snake and he’s the Lion. Not after what he’s done.”

  Merlin considered this. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my long life, it’s that every villain thinks they’re the hero of their own story. And yet it’s curious that the Snake focuses on undoing the Truth as his ultimate goal. That’s the lesson of The Lion and the Snake after all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about the original tale. The Snake said that under his reign, the Eagle would be free from his rule. Meanwhile, the Lion said that under his reign, the Eagle would have to obey him. So the Eagle naturally chooses the Snake to be king,” said Merlin. “The Snake believes he’s told the Eagle the Truth. He didn’t try to subject him to his rule, after all. He only tried to kill him. The Lion, on the other hand, believes the Snake has told a Lie—for how could the Eagle be free if the Snake tried to murder it the very same night? So what’s the true moral of the tale? Both the Lion and the Snake believe they are king. Both lay claim to the Truth. It just depends on who is telling the story. And it appears the Snake in your fairy tale thinks his version is as right and as true as yours. Only he forgets there is a third party in the story . . . a third party whose loyalty decides the fate of the king. A third party who can make all the difference between who lives and who dies at the end of this fairy tale.”

  “The Eagle,” said Tedros.

  “And as the Lion, you’ve found your Eagle in Rhian. A knight standing by the rightful king,” said Merlin. “Which leaves us with one question that you would do well to consider while I’m gone. The Snake thinks he’s the Lion, right?”

  The wizard locked eyes with Tedros.

>   “So who’s his Eagle?”

  He swept the cloud from under Tedros like a cape and the young king went tumbling down into the stars.

  “Who’s his Eagle. . . . Who’s his Eagle. . . ,” Tedros murmured. “Who’s the Snake’s Eagle. . . .”

  “Tedros?”

  His eyes fluttered open.

  “It’s me.”

  He stirred in bed to see Agatha at the door of the guest room.

  “What time is it?” he said, jolting upright.

  “They’re about to serve lunch,” she said.

  Tedros sighed with relief. “I’ve only been asleep a little while, then.” He noticed the purple cape was gone from beneath the sheets. He looked up at Agatha. “I was with Merlin in the Celestium. He’d visited the Lady of the—” He suddenly noticed his princess’s face, tense and unsettled. “What is it?”

  “I just got back from Maker’s Market,” she said evenly.

  “And?”

  “I think you should come and make sure you’re happy with how army recruitment’s going.”

  Tedros frowned. “But Rhian’s there. He should be handling it—”

  “He is handling it,” said Agatha. “I just think you should—”

  Nicola barreled through the door. “The Snake,” she gasped.

  Instantly Tedros leapt out of bed, sprinting with Agatha after Nicola into the hallway and through the passage to the Blue Tower. They rushed into the dining room, past the full lunch spread, to the balcony, where all of Tedros’ team and the maids and cooks were pressed against the stone rail, staring up into the dark, storming sky.

  Green scims flew over Camelot, forming a giant phantom snake like a beacon, its head rearing through dark clouds.

  Screams resounded from the city and market, where the people could see it too.

  The snake glowed like lightning.

  “Tonight,” it hissed, echoing across the realm. “Midnight.”

  Then it broke into a thousand eels and went screaming into the rain.

  27

  SOPHIE

  The King’s Speech

  A few hours earlier, Sophie and Rhian had been riding together in a carriage towards Maker’s Market, while the rest of Rhian’s team trailed in carriages behind.