But now the scene in the black box was changing: this time, to King Arthur’s chambers, as the king stood at his window, watching smoke rise over distant kingdoms, along with the protests at his castle gates.
“Should have let him have me,” said a voice.
Arthur turned to find Merlin at the door, the wizard in his purple cape, dented cone hat, and violet slippers, his long, thick beard scragglier than ever.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Arthur, turning back around.
“A deal is a deal,” said Merlin.
“Our knights are having no luck against him,” Arthur confessed stiffly. “Then again, Lancelot left them in quite a state. Gone without warning: their captain revealed to be a traitor, adulterer, deserter. No wonder they can’t find the strength to take down this green fool. I’ll have to ride into battle against him myself.”
“You’ll die and he’ll have me in any case,” Merlin replied.
The king said nothing for a moment.
“Why does he want to kill you?” Arthur asked.
“We have history,” the wizard answered.
“What kind of history?”
“Personal history.”
Arthur kept his eyes out the window.
“He believes I owe him something,” the wizard sighed. “Something he can only take if I’m dead.”
“And what is that thing? What is it that he wants?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
Arthur whirled around. “I am inflicting pain on the whole of the Woods, in your name, and you can’t tell me?”
“What I can tell you is to stop your martyrdom and deliver me as agreed,” said Merlin. “This is between me and the knight.”
“Then go, you doddering prat!” Arthur exploded. “Go like Gwen did! Go like Lance! You and your personal history. Settle your business without me!”
“I would have done that from the beginning, but he made the deal with you,” Merlin answered. “You must deliver me. Or his terror will not stop.”
“Why am I a part of this? This has nothing do with me!” Arthur assailed. “He’s acting like I should remember him. Like I should know who he is.”
“Do you?” Merlin asked.
“Clearly not!” the king snapped. “So why me? Why do I have to deliver you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said Merlin, quietly. “He would like to see us both suffer.”
Arthur stared at him.
“Merlin? Is that you?” said a soft, young voice.
A young boy pulled in, eight or nine years old, with sleepy blue eyes, floppy gold hair, and rumpled pajamas. “Can you make me a toddy, double marshmallow and candy cream, like usua—”
The young prince caught his dad at the window. “Oh. Thought you were alone.” The boy started to leave.
“Tedros, wait—” Arthur began.
Young Tedros spun around. “Why are you still here? Go find Mother! You promised! Just like you promised to keep the Woods safe. But you’re not doing that either! You’re not doing anything!”
He stormed out of the room.
Arthur didn’t go after him, pain clouding his eyes, looking even more the child than his son.
Next to Agatha, the grown Tedros was breathing raggedly, reliving this very moment, watching Merlin step towards his dad.
“You’ve lost your wife, Arthur. You’ve lost your best friend,” the wizard said gently. “Don’t lose him too.”
A tear rolled down the king’s cheek.
“I’ll send word to the Green Knight,” said Merlin, touching the king. “Tomorrow at dawn in Ender’s Forest. Where no one will see us.”
The king gazed off into the distance . . . then turned. “Ender’s Forest? No one knows how to find that except you and me—”
But Merlin was already gone.
As the scene vanished, Tedros looked more confused than ever. “We still don’t know what the Green Knight wanted from Merlin. The secret he came for. Which means we still don’t know the answer to my first test.”
“The story isn’t over yet,” said Agatha, watching colors begin to fill in the darkness once more.
Tedros exhaled. “Was your family this messed up?”
“You have no idea,” Agatha said, forcing a smile.
Cramped close in the black box, she held her prince’s hand.
“We know the end to the tale,” Tedros said. “Merlin survives. Dad does too. The Green Knight dies.” He looked at his princess. “So why do I feel like something terrible is about to happen?”
This, Agatha had no comfort for.
Because she had the same feeling too.
A purple forest melted into view around them, the leaves and flowers of every tree, bush, and shrub spanning shades of plum, violet, orchid, amethyst, and lavender.
“Tedros will know Ender’s Forest well, of course, for it’s where Merlin used to give him lessons,” Professor Sader spoke.
“When I could find it,” Tedros murmured.
“If the Celestium was the wizard’s place to think, then Ender’s Forest was the wizard’s place to practice—a forest that appeared only to Merlin whenever and wherever he wished, his space to workshop new spells and hexes and disguises away from prying eyes . . .”
Merlin and Arthur heard the knight before they saw him, his resounding steps rattling the tree beneath which wizard and king waited, the dust of dawn rippling through darkness.
“Right on schedule,” said the wizard, combing his beard with his fingers.
“Took me ten tries to find this place the first time,” said Arthur. “How did he know how to get in?”
Merlin didn’t answer, the knight’s footsteps growing louder.
Arthur instinctively touched the sword on his belt—
“Whatever happens, you are to stay out of it,” Merlin ordered the king, his voice sharp. “Our trust has been strained of late, Arthur. You broke into my quarters. Stole my gnome potion so you could snoop after Guinevere. By betraying me, you only hastened her departure. But the stakes now are even higher. You have delivered me to the Green Knight, per the terms of the agreement. You are to play no further role.”
Arthur looked distressed. “Merlin, you can’t expect me to stand here and let him—”
“Remember why you are here,” Merlin retorted, stone-eyed. “To be a good king. To be a good father. Do not undo what is right with what feels right. Promise that you will do as I say. Promise that you will trust me to handle myself.”
“But—”
“Promise me.”
The wizard’s tone left no doubt, no room for bargaining.
Arthur could see the shadow of the invincible savage approaching, his boots crushing the lilac beds, his golden axe spattered with blood. The king held back tears, faced with the inevitability of what was to come and no recourse to stop it.
“I promise,” he said emptily.
Merlin faced the knight.
“No tricks, Merlin,” his green nemesis flared, a hot flush already in his cheeks. “You have too much dignity to cheat me. I expect you to honor the terms.” He glanced at Arthur. “You, too. Though I can’t say the same about your dignity.”