“We need you alive,” said the Dean, holding her fast.
Queen Jacinda stepped towards Japeth, sword pointed. “Your brother had a soul. He had the capacity to love. No one will ever love you.”
“Words,” the Snake dismissed, setting his sights on Agatha once more.
“Let’s talk words, then,” Jacinda threw back. “You say you seek the Pen’s power for the good of the Woods, when in truth, you seek to raise a boy from the dead.”
Japeth looked at her.
“A boy you think will admire all that you’ve done to have him,” said the queen. “But you’ve mistaken him like you’ve mistaken me. He will reject you. He will condemn the Evil you’ve done in his name.”
“I know the end of my story,” the Snake said coldly. “And yours.”
“You will end alone, Japeth.” The queen raised her blade. “All of this Evil done for no other reason than to damn you to Hell.”
The Snake struck the sword from her hand. Then he clasped her throat and squeezed. “I looked into your daughter’s eyes when she knew she was going to die.”
Agatha broke free of Dean Brunhilde—
Japeth’s fingers dug into the queen’s neck. Jacinda fell to her knees, choking for breath. Japeth bent over, strangling the life out of her. “And I see the same thing in you that I saw in her. Not courage. Not conviction. Just fear—”
A clump crushed him in the face.
Japeth reeled, releasing the queen. He looked up at Agatha standing over him, his face a spatter of blood.
“It’s me you need to win the second test, coward,” she lashed.
Agatha started running, jumping across clouds.
Japeth exploded after her, his legs so strong that he was already closing in, Agatha cornered on the last cloud—
A sword impaled the Snake’s bare shoulder.
Japeth whirled, facing Dean Brunhilde, who punched him in the throat.
“You killed Rhian. Your one hope for love,” she condemned, crushing him in a headlock. “Why? Because he was your better half? Or did Rhian know what I do? That you’re a monster. Because only monsters kill those who love them.”
“You who took love away from me?” the Snake seethed, thrashing in her arms. “The only monster I see is you.”
“Your mother told me something when she left you in my care,” the Dean said, struggling to restrain him. “That you have none of her blood. That you must be all your father’s.” She held him close. “Because she saw nothing in you she ever wanted back.”
The Snake roared, elbowing her in the face. He dragged the sword out of his shoulder and slashed it across the Dean’s neck.
“Say hello to her for me,” he said, gripping her collar. “And my ‘better half.’”
He threw Dean Brunhilde off the cloud.
Agatha’s heart jolted, watching her body fall into purple night.
Until today she hadn’t known Dean Brunhilde. Yet the Dean had protected her with her life. The same way she’d protected students from their own Evil. Dean Brunhilde was brave, strong, and Good, all the things she’d tried in vain to help Japeth become. Now, she too had been lost to him. What chance did the rest of them have?
Even so, the Dean had left her mark. Japeth wasn’t moving. He struggled for breath, his shoulder dripping blood, the scims left on him dulled and limp.
The cold green pits of his eyes rose to Agatha’s cloud. His cheeks reddened, as if the mere sight of her rekindled his fire. Then he charged her like a lion—
His cloud jerked suddenly, knocking him off his feet. Japeth rebounded, launching for Agatha. This time, Agatha’s cloud shifted, dragging the princess out of reach.
A child’s giggle echoed overhead.
Both hunter and prey looked up at Merlin, hoisted by Hester’s demon, as the child swished his arms, magically swinging Japeth’s and Agatha’s clouds away from each other like chess pieces. “Naughty hurts Choo-Choo! Now I hurt Naughty!” the child wizard promised, watching Japeth leap for Agatha and miss. Merlin puppeted the other clouds and surrounded the Snake’s with them. Japeth was trapped, nine sword-wielding females prowling at him. Beatrix. Kiko. Reena. Anadil. Hester. Dot. Nicola. Maid Marian. Jacinda. The Snake froze, his scims too sapped to ward off this many knights.
Slowly he looked up. His eyes slitted with purpose. Agatha realized the move he was about to make—
“Merlin!” she screamed.
Scims shot off Japeth’s arm for the child—
A big, hairy hand caught them and crushed them to slime.
Hort’s man-wolf glowered at the Snake.
“No one touches the kid,” he snarled.
Hort turned his gaze on Agatha. “Go.”
Agatha read his intent. She sprinted for the rip in the sky, the one Japeth had come through, Merlin hastily arranging a ladder of clouds for her to get there. The Snake would chase her to win the second test. Her friends would be spared—
But Hort had no intention of the Snake chasing Agatha. He had no intention of the Snake leaving his cloud alive. Hort slapped Japeth hard in the face, sending the Snake flying backwards. “That’s for the Sheriff.” He slapped him again. “That’s for Lancelot.” He smacked him more. “And this is for Dovey and Dean Brunhilde and Millicent and Betty and Robin and Tink and your lying, sack-of-crap brother.” Blood gushed from Japeth’s mouth, Hort’s wolf cuffing him to the edge of the cloud.
Agatha was almost at the portal. She glanced back—
Hort reached his paw and snatched a star out of the sky, its silver point as keen as a knife. “And this one . . .” He raised it over Japeth’s pale chest. “This one’s for me.”
He stabbed it down—
“Hort, watch out!” Agatha yelled.
A single scim flew off Japeth’s neck, slipping between Hort’s fingers. He dropped the star in shock, the eel aiming straight for his eyeball, about to gouge it through—
It stopped short.
Because there was a pink flare to Japeth’s throat.
Sophie stood behind the Snake, her hand against the scimless flesh on Japeth’s neck, a six-year-old wizard having stealthily snuck her cloud behind his.
Agatha blanched. No, no, no, no. She turned back, jumping downwards to rescue her best friend from sure death, but Merlin magically swerved Agatha’s cloud higher.
Japeth withstood Sophie’s grip, her glow hot against his skin. “I remember how you and I first met,” he said. “We were in a room. Our bodies this close. You thought I was Rafal. You thought I was a ghost, come back to be with you . . . Fitting, isn’t it?” He leaned back, whispering into her ear. “Now it’s you who’ll be the ghost.”
The eel at Hort’s eye reversed like a missile, cutting across the cloud, skimming Japeth’s body, about to rip into Sophie’s neck—
“You need me,” Sophie said sharply.
The eel stalled midair.
“You need me as your queen.” Sophie spoke crisply, unafraid. “That’s how you become the One True King. A pen told you that. Marry me and only then can the power be yours. The power to bring back your real true love. That’s why you don’t know whether to wed me or kill me. Kill me and you can’t claim the powers you seek. Kill me and you’ll never have your precious Aric again. And yet, leave me alive and I will kill you. So I’ll give you one chance. Surrender the tournament. Tell the Woods that Tedros is the true king. Or . . . you can fight for your Aric and die. So what is it, Japeth? What do you choose? Love . . . or life?”