Tedros was quiet, his big blue eyes fixed on his chest, where his heart would be. He rolled over to me. “What happened to your Wizard Wish?”
I hunched forward and sighed.
“Come on, give it to me,” he pleaded.
“I don’t have it, Tedros.”
“If you did, would you let me take it?”
“No.”
“I’m going to find it and steal it. Or another wizard’s. And I won’t tell you when I do,” he snapped. “At least tell me what you were going to wish for. To die and come back to life? Like me?”
“Oh no. When it’s my time to die, I won’t need to come back,” I replied.
Tedros sat up. “Why not? Why not live forever?”
I ruffled his hair. “Because the work will be done, dear boy.”
“You never make any sense,” the prince growled, before lunging forward and dipping his finger back in the water.
“Concentrate now . . . ,” I urged. “Think hard about your wish . . .”
The fish swerved into formation, colors dancing across their shiny scales, steel blue and treasure gold and dusty peach, a rich vision reflecting back at the young prince . . . of his own small head, the eyes closed, severed from his body and carried under his arm . . .
“Merlin, I did it! I’m dead! Like the Green Knight!” he yipped, gaping at the water. “I made it come true! Look! See, Merlin! See!”
“I’m seeing, Tedros.”
He whistled proudly, hopping and pointing at his decapitated twin . . . then quieted suddenly, as if absorbing the scene of his death, the reality behind his wish. His smile disappeared, anxiousness surging to his face. But he was looking at the painting closer now, at the calmness in his imagined self, the peace in his shut eyes, for this was the wish he’d wanted, the death he chose to prove something to himself, so that he could come back stronger. The fear went out of him, a new sense of power alighting—
His eyes shot open in the painting, the head roaring to life: “Peekaboo!”
Tedros screamed and took off into the fields.
“Well, you did say you wanted to come back to life, didn’t you?” I said when I found him.
But he just hugged me tightly, gripping at my robes, long after the fright was gone, as if somewhere deep inside, he knew that he and I were about to have our own death, our days together at an end.
I left Camelot with a heavy heart, plagued with doubts as to what would happen to Arthur and his son in the years to follow. But I knew two things for sure about Prince Tedros after that last lesson in the forest.
He wouldn’t be scared of death when the time came.
And he’d steal another’s Wizard Wish the first chance he got.
THE APPLE.
The one the Lady of the Lake had given him.
Kept in Tedros’ coat, near his heart.
I’d thought it a strange parting gift, since it couldn’t have any real magic, her powers mostly gone. But from what I’d seen, Tedros had laid it on thick, whispering in the Lady’s ear, eliciting a smile of love and gratitude, until she’d drawn the apple out of her waters, a token of affection for him. I’d assumed the prince had told Nimue that her sins were forgiven, that he still loved and admired her, so she would have the peace she needed . . . but now, looking back, it was more than that . . .
He wanted something from her.
He wanted her Wizard Wish.
And whatever he’d said to her at the lake had made her give it to him.
These are the thoughts that run through me watching Tedros’ head severed from his body, like I’d seen in the boy’s Wish Fish painting so long ago. Trapped on the staircase, I calculate quickly, my fists cuffed to the prisoner’s chain, my mind firing with teenage adrenaline.
If Tedros has the Lady’s wish, then he had to have said his wish. He had to have spoken it out loud.
Of course!
He did speak it out loud.
After the Snake had taunted him about having the blood of the heir, the blood of the king.
Tedros had looked right at him: “Then I wish Excalibur take my head for as long as it is true.”
As long as it is true.
As long as what is true?
Japeth having the heir’s blood.
Japeth having the blood of the king.
But Chaddick was the heir.
Which means Japeth has Chaddick’s blood on him.
And Agatha knows it.
That’s why she looked stricken when she passed Japeth at the door.
That’s why she screamed through her gag to warn Tedros.
That’s why Tedros looked right at her before Excalibur cut off his head.
Because he knows she knows it.
He’s counting on her to know it.
Only she hasn’t made the connection yet . . . My head swivels to Agatha and I see why. She’s too shocked, her face dead white, her whole body tremoring, lost to the horror of seeing her prince cut in two. Meanwhile, Japeth stands triumphant in the chaos of fawning leaders, Excalibur back in his fists. I need Agatha to look at me, but Sophie and the witches are huddled around her, all of them a mess of tears. Guards will come any moment to take us to the dungeons. Look at me, Agatha, I think. Look at me. Look at—
My hat pokes out of my pocket, hearing my thoughts.
Not you. Agatha.
My hat launches up the stairs and smacks Agatha in the head.
Good boy.
Agatha glances at me.
For the slightest second.
The magic is already forming between my bound hands, my fingers prying apart just enough to release it into the air . . . floating out of my palms . . . a pink orb of light . . . in the shape of . . .
. . . an apple.
Agatha stares at it through tears, then at me, confounded.
I glare at her hard, willing her to think like me.
She looks at the apple again.
The apple Tedros wouldn’t let her eat on our journey, even when she’d asked.
Her gaze sharpens like a knife.
The apple.
The Lady.
The magic.
She understands.
Tears dry up.
Her jaw sets.
Sophie sees the shift in her, follows her eyes to me—
But Agatha is already jumping on top of the banister, diving with her cuffed arms out, swooping like a phoenix towards the Snake.
Only one problem: all of us are chained to her—
Sophie goes jerking up after Agatha, tumbling with a scream towards the first level, before the witches and I and the others yank the chain back, suspending the two girls in air, upside down, their heads swinging for the floor. Japeth whirls around in surprise, but Agatha is right there in his face. She bludgeons him with shackled hands, knocking him off-kilter, then snatches at his collar, grabbing something from beneath it. Dot manages to fire a spell from her lit finger, turning the chain over Agatha to chocolate. Agatha and Sophie snap free, crashing down onto King Dutra and Empress Vaisilla, who shriek and swat at them, pinned beneath the girls and yelling for their guards. Meanwhile, Sophie angles her bound fists to burn her glow through Agatha’s cuffs, Agatha doing the same to Sophie’s. Chains break at the same time, before Sophie swipes a brooch from Vaisilla and spears through her and Agatha’s gags. But now soldiers are running for both girls, Japeth leading them, swords out to slash them through—
The soldiers pull back, startled.
Because Japeth’s crown is . . . moving.