No one moved, listening to the snuffles beneath the purple velvet.
Ffft.
Ffft.
It was Agatha who had the courage to unfold the cape.
To reveal the wizard as he was now.
The answer to Tedros’ first test.
Merlin, the wise.
Merlin, the powerful.
Merlin, the sweet,
sleeping,
entirely beardless,
baby.
10
AGATHA
Think Like Me
On the way to Bloodbrook, Agatha couldn’t shake the thought. That they were on the wrong track.
She looked at Tedros next to her, clinging to Hort’s furry shoulder, but he was lost in his own haze, no doubt still processing what they’d seen in Sader’s history. A Green Knight connected by name to a Snake . . .
As the man-wolf bounded through Bloodbrook’s crimson-leafed forest, Agatha knew they should be on the lookout. Japeth surely still had his magic map: the one that tracked their whereabouts. The Snake’s men would hunt them down wherever they went. Plus, they’d lost their fairy spies, who’d gotten so drunk on Pifflepaff’s cotton candy that Tedros had to cut them loose after Tinkerbell went to find the witches.
But even knowing all this, Agatha struggled to keep watch. All she could think about was what Nicola and Guinevere had told her back in Pifflepaff.
About the squirrel and the nut.
“And you’re sure that’s what it said?” she pressed the first year and old queen, both cradled in Hort’s paws. “That Japeth is heading to Putsi?”
“Ate the squirrelly nut and found the message inside,” said Guinevere, looking nauseous from the wolf ride. “Secret note from the Queen of Jaunt Jolie to her daughter, Betty. Told her she’d given Japeth the key to the first test. And that he was on his way to Putsi.”
“Stealing the squirrelly nut was a holy mess,” sighed Nicola, covered in scratch marks. “With every leader against Tedros, Guinevere and I figured any royal squirrel might be carrying valuable information. But soon as this one saw us, it ran like the wind. Then its royal collar started shooting poisoned darts that almost got me in the head. I’d hardly learned magic at school—only managed to stun the squirrel’s back legs. Definitely saw our faces. Hope we don’t cross paths with it again.”
“Murderous beavers, angry squirrels . . . What’s with us and vermin?” Hort growled.
“Why is Japeth going to Putsi, though?” Agatha contended, asking herself as much as the others. “If he knows the answer, he should be after Merlin. But Merlin isn’t in Putsi.”
“Which means Japeth doesn’t know the answer,” Hort puffed.
“So what did the Queen of Jaunt Jolie mean about giving him a key?” Agatha asked.
Tedros snapped out of his daze. He looked at his princess edgily—
A stuttering jingle sounded and they turned to see Tinkerbell collapse on Tedros’ shoulder, sweat-soaked and squeaking dully, like a bell dropped into mud.
“The witches found Merlin,” Tedros translated, with a smile. “They’ll meet us in Bloodbrook.”
Agatha slumped with relief against Hort’s fur.
“Can’t Tink fairy-dust us there? My paws hurt,” Hort griped.
“Tink’s dust isn’t the same as it used to be,” Tedros sighed. “Can only fly one of us at most.”
Watching him fold Tinkerbell in his pocket, the fairy peacefully asleep, Agatha tried to feel the same peace . . . to hold on to the relief that Merlin was safe . . .
And yet, that squirrelly nut still bothered her.
“Maybe the Queen of Jaunt Jolie is on our side,” Nicola offered, sensing her unease. “Giving Japeth false clues to lead him astray.”
“Detective Nic at it again,” Hort said, patting her with his big thumb.
Agatha stayed quiet. The Queen of Jaunt Jolie had made it a point not to cross Camelot to protect her children. Why would she risk it now? Agatha had that prickly feeling again. The one she had when the story was all wrong. The Snake wielded magic and intelligence. He was always a step ahead. So how’d he end up in Putsi? How’d he end up the fool?
If Agatha had learned one thing from her fairy tale, it was this.
Go looking for the fool and eventually, the path leads straight back to you.
AGATHA GAZED AT baby Merlin fast asleep, snuffling beneath his coned hat, a half-smile on his face, somewhere in the wonderland of dreams.
The princess turned and assessed her team: two stultified witches and a third grown old; a practically comatose prince; a shaken Reader and a helpless once-queen; and a weasel boy saronged in bedsheets, having burst out of his clothes to get them here. To safety. To victory. To a baby.
With no beard.
“Caves of Contempo aged Merlin in reverse,” Hester mumbled, the witch more undone than Agatha had ever seen her. “He can’t be more than a few months old.”
“Ani and I were on the other side of the cave. The side that ages you forward,” said Dot, miserable at the sight of her jowly face, saggy arms, and frumpy curls in a mirror.
“Told you not to touch anything, you idiot,” Anadil gritted, her two rats shaking their heads. “I told you.”
“It was just a measly cockroach,” Dot puled. “They make for good chocolate . . . I didn’t see the dust on it . . .”
“Considered de-aging Dot on my side of the caves,” said Hester, “but we were worried we’d end up with two babies.”
Tedros buckled against a wall. “This can’t be happening . . .” His face reddened like he’d been slapped. “HOW IS THIS HAPPENING! How are we supposed to get Merlin back!”
“How are we supposed to get his beard?” Hort clarified.
Agatha inched closer to Merlin and his rosy cheeks, his starry purple cape fanned around him, as if he was floating in a sea. His plush hat had shrunk to a baby’s bonnet, drooped over his head. Fists at ears, he shivered in his sleep, lips coated with drool. He was so peaceful, so unaware. But as Agatha drew closer, a low sound echoed. Monstrous forms bulged out of the red walls: horned faces and knife-long claws, stretching against the wallpaper and looming over the baby from every direction.
Agatha froze.
So did the walls.
Tedros rushed to protect his princess—
Hester barred him.
“Haunts,” she warned. “Faster you move, faster they move.” She turned to Agatha. “Get the baby. Slowly.”
Agatha took another step. The haunts resumed their prowl towards Merlin, gnarled bodies swelling against the wallpaper, krrck, krrck, krrck, like the crushing of ice.
Now both Tedros and Hort surged to help—
The haunts spun sharply in the boys’ direction, then swooped for Merlin.
“Stay back!” Agatha gasped at the boys, the creatures stretched so far out of the wall that their papered claws kissed Merlin’s face. Agatha lunged to grab him—
“Careful,” Nicola breathed. “Fairy tales are filled with demon babies.”
Agatha hesitated. Her fellow Reader was right. They didn’t know the extent of the wizard’s transformation. They didn’t know his powers anymore. They didn’t even know what side he was on. But the haunts’ claws were gathering under him from all sides, lifting the baby off the bed, towards the ceiling, where another set of claws stretched out of the plaster to receive him.