She rushed out of the room, stumbling down the stairs—
Sophie froze.
The bottom floor of the house had been smashed in, shattered blue tiles blanketing the living room. Sophie squinted up at a hole in the blue-tiled roof, sunlight catching the flurries of dust. The source of the roof’s hole lay in the center of the room: a Lion-hilted sword, stabbed into a heap of blue, broken stone.
Sophie maneuvered through the wreckage to the front door of the house and pulled it open. Stepping onto the porch, she surveyed the quiet Foxwood streets, scattered with Excaliburs, a few young schoolboys jogging around and inspecting them. Colorful cottages lined the vales, all of them fully intact.
“Unlucky,” a voice sighed.
She turned to see Cedric at the door.
“We’re the only house that was hit,” he said.
A horn sounded in the distance.
Sophie looked up and noticed a woman in a rose-pink turban hustling towards them.
“Caleb! Mother’s coming!” Cedric called into the house, before glancing back at Sophie. “Chaddick dies, then a sword hits us . . . Caleb’s too afraid to go to school. Mother has to keep checking on him. You said you’re a Dean at Foxwood School? Mother will know you, then. She’ll be happy we nursed you back to health.”
“I better be going. Have to gather my students,” Sophie replied quickly, about to take off in the opposite direction—
“Headmistress Gremlaine, I found it!” a young boy hassled the turbaned woman, pointing at a sword. “There’s a dead mouse right by it. Must mean something!”
“Horn sounded, Brycin. Head back to school,” Headmistress Gremlaine replied crisply, keeping on towards Sophie, who hadn’t moved.
“Gremlaine? Chaddick was a Gremlaine?” Sophie asked Cedric. “Like Grisella Gremlaine?”
“Wait. You knew?” Cedric said, wide-eyed. “That Chaddick was Aunt Grisella’s son?”
Sophie’s heart jumped. “Grisella Gremlaine. Steward to King Arthur and King Tedros of Camelot? That Grisella Gremlaine? She was Chaddick’s mother?”
“Oh, so you didn’t know.” Chaddick exhaled. “Caleb and I had no idea either. Mother only told us after Chaddick died. She thought it would make us feel less sad about his death if we knew he wasn’t our real brother. Only made it worse, really. No idea why Aunt Grisella didn’t raise him herself. But Caleb and I were lucky she didn’t. Chaddick was a real brother to us. We loved him so much.” His throat quavered. “Um, how do you know my aunt? Haven’t heard from her in months—”
Sophie didn’t answer. She was watching the woman hustling towards her, with tan skin and sunken cheeks.
Arthur . . .
Rafal . . .
Sader . . .
Gremlaine . . .
Sophie lost her breath.
She knew where Excalibur was.
She knew how Tedros could win.
“Cedric, who’s that?” Headmistress Gremlaine called out, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I told you not to talk to strangers!”
Cedric turned to his guest. “Didn’t you say you were—”
But Sophie was already running.
Away from the house.
Away from Foxwood.
She surged past the vales where she’d left her students, into the forest, chasing north towards Gillikin, where she could catch a fairy flight to Avalon—
She stopped cold.
“Emilio,” she gasped.
The dark-skulled boy sat on a rock, all alone, in the middle of the Woods.
“Been looking for you, Dean Rowenna,” he said. “Me and some friends.”
“Go back to school,” Sophie panted. “I’ll be there soon—”
Emilio whistled with his fingers.
Through the columns of trees, shadows appeared, sifting into dappled light.
Lion crests gleamed on their chests.
“Friends of King Rhian, actually,” said Emilio. “They wanted to meet you after I wrote them about you.”
Emilio stared Sophie down as Camelot soldiers surrounded her.
“You know. Since you’re his cousin.”
27
TEDROS
Ask the Lady
Tedros didn’t love teenage Merlin. After trekking two miles through snow, it had been time for another dose of the wizard’s aging potion, the span from twelve to thirteen condensed into a single drop. And thirteen-year-old Merlin was as imperious and grandiose as eighty-year-old Merlin but also a moody, pubescent know-it-all, despite seeming to know nothing that could be of use.
“Where are we going, Merlin? The Lady of the Lake already saw us,” said Agatha. “Clearly she doesn’t want to talk to us, let alone help.”
“And she’s the only one who can let us out of this place,” Tedros added, using his hands and boots to turn more swords to dust, like a game of footie. “We’re trapped here, Merlin.”
“Glad it was the witches who rescued me. You two would have given up at the first gust of wind,” Merlin replied, tossing pink lightning and clearing blades just as Tedros reached for another one. “I’m hungry again,” grumped the wizard boy. “No wonder Hansel and Gretel’s parents couldn’t keep food on the table. The kids probably ate it all, just like they did that witch’s house. Hat! Make me something with cheese!”
“This is ridiculous, Merlin. You have to know where Dad hid Excalibur! It was you who helped August Sader leave clues for the first test!” Tedros said, light fading over the swordfields. “We saw your white stars in the Living Library. You gave Sader the stars’ magic—”
“Because Professor Sader asked me for it,” Merlin snipped, munching on cheese-fried popcorn out of his hat, the boy’s scrawny frame snug in his purple suit.
Tedros waited for him to elaborate, but instead Merlin paused at a sword in the snow. The prince’s heart swelled hopefully, only to see the wizard pulling at his face in the blade’s reflection. “Wow. Young skin is so elastic.”
“And Professor Sader didn’t tell you what he wanted your magic for?” Agatha said, exasperated.
“Yes, he told me every detail of Arthur’s tournament and I just enjoy the deadly consequences of not giving them to you,” Merlin huffed, with a loud burp. “Like I said, Arthur kept his second will hidden from me. For good reason. If he’d told me about a tournament to find his heir, I’d have asked why he doubted who his heir was in the first place. Clearly Arthur had secrets to keep. Secrets that Rafal and Evelyn Sader took advantage of.”
“What about helping King Arthur see the future?” Agatha prodded. “His will said, ‘The future I have seen has many possibilities . . .’”
“If I could see the future, do you think I would be here, decades younger than I’m supposed to be, battling my own hormones and your fruitless questions, instead of basking on the beaches of Samsara? Because that’s where I’d like to spend my future.” Merlin shoved his hat back on. “Once the work is done.”
“When is that?” Tedros asked.
“With you, the work is never done,” snapped the wizard child.
That put an end to Tedros’ questions.