He stood taller, speaking at full thunder. “Maybe Excalibur will choose me now. Maybe it will not. But I will not step back from the challenge. Not this time. I will risk losing my head to claim the truth of who I am. A leader who will bring all of us, Good and Evil, into a new realm. Where Truth wins over Lies, where the Past doesn’t dictate the Present, where Man and Pen share power. A future where a king doesn’t look down on the people but is one of the people. I will be your Lion. I will be your protector. I will be your king. Not for my glory, but for all of us. All of us, even the snakes. Which is why my father made this the third test. It is not a test of blood or birth. Both of those can be faked.” Tedros set his eyes on Japeth. “But the truth can’t be faked. And this is a test of truth. Only one will face it with courage instead of cowardice.”
The Foxwood house was still, leaders and students captive to the prince’s words. Through an upstairs window, Agatha could see the mob of citizens outside, mesmerized to silence, having listened to Tedros’ voice boom from the blown-open house. She gazed down at her prince, his face flushed with belief, and though Agatha was chained up and robbed of speech and Tedros still wouldn’t look at her, she’d never felt so hopeful in her life. For her true love no longer belonged to her, but to all the Woods. The Lion. The King.
Japeth broke the silence with a chuckle.
Agatha’s stomach sank as the Snake raised slitted eyes to his rival.
“Are you calling me a coward?” Japeth asked.
Tedros stared back. “I’m calling you a liar and a coward.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Japeth leered. “Tell me what I’ve done, other than obey Arthur’s will. Tell me what I’ve done, other than honor the one I love.” He burned with fury, as if in Tedros he still saw the fraud of Aric. “You have your truth and I have mine. The people believe me. They’ve burned their rings for me. Me, the One True King.” He hissed in Tedros’ face. “That is the truth.”
Tedros gazed purely at the Snake. “The truth cannot be spoken. It must be seen. And your crimes will be seen.”
Tension froze the house. Japeth pulled back from Tedros, a wry smile on his face.
“And if they are not, soothsayer?” he baited. “If I have the blood of the heir and the blood of the king?”
Tedros hesitated, the veins tight in his neck. He looked at the Snake. “Then I wish Excalibur take my head for as long as it is true.”
Japeth smiled. “So it is written.” He straightened his collar, touching it just long enough to make sure Tedros caught sight of Chaddick’s blood underneath. Agatha watched Tedros’ body go stiff, his throat constrict.
The Snake turned back to the sword. “I see no reason for more empty words. The test to decide the king is clear. Let us draw as to who pulls Excalibur first.”
“A coin toss!” pipped the King of Foxwood, rushing forward, a gold piece in his hands. “Heads for King Rhian and tails for . . . the other one.” His fingers were shaking as he pinched the coin and tossed it clumsily in the air, nearly hitting the Empress of Putsi. “Heads, it is. King Rhian?”
“I’ll go second,” said Japeth.
Agatha broke into a clammy chill, her cuffed hands dripping sweat. Sophie squeezed against her, their arms touching, both holding their breath.
Tedros stepped into the arena of sun beneath the broken roof, just him and his father’s sword. He wedged his worn boot into the mass of stone and put one hand on the Lion-carved hilt, then the other. Every sound drained out of the house, the prince’s chest rising and falling, his breaths heavy like an ocean wave. He grasped the sword hard. Then he pulled it with all of his force.
Excalibur didn’t move.
Tedros clamped his knuckles and yanked a second time, his forearms pumped, his cheeks hot red.
The sword stayed in place.
Air went out of Agatha’s lungs, Sophie’s chained arms hugging her close. Agatha could hear her friend gasping through her gag to comfort her, drowned out by the murmuring leaders, who’d been so thoughtful after Tedros’ speech as if reconsidering who they’d chosen as king, now relieved that Excalibur had silenced their doubts.
Tedros stepped back, his eyes on Arthur’s sword.
He said nothing.
“My turn,” said Japeth.
He came around the side of the blade and faced Tedros head-on, his tan hands clasping the carved Lion, rays of sun lighting up his collar. With a quick, shallow breath, he seized the hilt and pulled the sword.
It glided out of the stone, into the Snake’s raised fists.
“No!” Agatha yelled into her gag—
But leaders were already on bended knees, bowing to their king, and so were the students, pushed down by guards, Agatha and Sophie with them. Agatha thrust her head through the railing, just in time to see Japeth grinning at Tedros, Excalibur gripped in his thin fingers, its blade magically glowing gold. Slowly, the sword floated out of Japeth’s hands into the sun, suspended in midair by its own force.
Arthur’s spirit resounded from within:
“My blood lives on.
The third test is complete,
The tournament done.
A king is found.”
Camelot’s crown appeared like a phantom over Japeth’s head and fitted down onto his copper hair.
Excalibur turned to Tedros.
Arthur’s voice spoke once more, sharper this time.
“And so is the loser.”
The sword glowed red with punishment.
Agatha lunged in vain for the stairs, trapped by her chain.
That’s when Tedros locked eyes with her, finally looking at her, finally seeing her, strong and true, the way he did when he asked her to make a promise. To go on without him. To keep the fight.
Tedros looked back at his father’s sword.
Agatha screamed—
The blade swung for her prince’s neck.
Light caught its edge.
Then Tedros fell, cut into two pieces.
31
MERLIN
Return to Ender’s Forest
Nearly ten years before, Tedros and I had a lesson in Ender’s Forest.
I hadn’t intended it to be a lesson.
It was supposed to be a goodbye.
Arthur had killed Kay and I’d resolved to leave Camelot altogether, but not without seeing the young prince one last time.
As I’d waited beneath a purple oak, my eyes clouded with tears behind my spectacles and my hand grasped anxiously at my beardless chin. How could I leave the boy? Just when we were getting started? I’d intended to stay with his father and then with the son until a day far into the future when the work was done. But things had changed. Arthur had become secretive and volatile; instead of his mentor, I’d become a nuisance to rebel against. Somewhere inside him, he’d either lost faith in me or more likely, himself. The only cure was to leave and make him face his fate on his own. As for Tedros, I’d keep an eye on him from afar, like a hawk on high, until a day came where he needed me most. I couldn’t tell him this, of course, or he’d spend his life searching and waiting for my return, instead of learning to stand on his own two feet. No, the farewell had to be a clean blow, no matter how many tears were shed between us—
“Merlin!” a voice chirruped.