A Crystal of Time

“Careful,” Hester mothered, “your claw is still wounded from Nottingham—”

She froze, catching a black blur of movement through the hole. Her demon spotted it too and recoiled in fear . . . but it was already gone.

“What is it?” said Anadil.

Hester bent forward, inspecting the hole in the stone. “Looked like . . .”

But it couldn’t have been, she thought.

The Snake’s dead. Rhian killed him. We saw his body—

“Wait a second. Did you say ‘rescue’?” Dot said, twirling to Dovey. “First of all, you heard Willam: there’s no way out of this prison. Second, even if there was and we summoned the League of Thirteen or anyone else, what would they do . . . storm Camelot? Rhian has guards. He has the whole Woods behind him. Who on the outside could possibly rescue us?”

“I never said it’d be someone on the outside,” said Professor Dovey intently.

The whole crew looked at her.

“Sophie,” said Hort.

“Rhian needs Sophie,” Good’s Dean explained. “Every King of Camelot needs a queen to consolidate his power, especially a king like Rhian who is so new to the people. Meanwhile, the Queen of Camelot is as vaunted a position as her counterpart. It’s why Rhian took careful steps to ensure Sophie—a legend and beloved face across the Woods—would be his queen. As the people see it, the best of Good is marrying the best of Evil, which raises Rhian above the politics of Evers and Nevers and makes him a convincing leader to both. Plus, having Sophie as queen will calm any doubts about having a mysterious stranger as king. So now that that king has his ring on Sophie’s finger, he will do everything he can to keep her loyalty . . . but in the end, she’s still on our side.”

“Not necessarily,” said Reena. “The last time Sophie wore a boy’s ring, it was Rafal’s, and she sided with him against the whole school and nearly killed us all. And now you want us to trust the same girl?”

“This isn’t the same girl,” Professor Dovey challenged. “That’s why Rhian handpicked her to be his queen. Because Sophie is the only person in the Woods who both Good and Evil claim as their own—at once the slayer of an Evil School Master and now Evil’s new Dean. But we know where Sophie’s true loyalties lie. None of you can argue that everything she’s done on this quest has been to protect both her crew and Tedros’ crown. She accepted Rhian’s ring because besides being enamored with him, she thought he was Tedros’ liege. She took Rhian’s hand because of her love for her friends, not in spite of it. No matter what Sophie has to do to stay alive, we cannot doubt that love. Not when our own lives depend on her.”

Beatrix frowned. “I still don’t trust her.”

“Me either,” said Kiko.

“Join the club,” said Anadil.

Professor Dovey ignored them. “Now for the rest of the plan. We’ll wait for Anadil’s rats to return with news of the others. Then, when the time comes, we’ll send Sophie a message through that hole and establish a chain of communication. From there, we can plot our rescue,” she said, checking on the quarter-sized breach that Hester’s demon had managed to bash out of the wet, cracked stone. Rhian’s speech amplified louder through it—

“And let’s not forget my future queen!” he proclaimed.

The people sang back: “Sophie! Sophie! Sophie!”

“Can you see the stage yet, Nicola?” Professor Dovey pressured.

Nicola leaned forward, eye to the hole: “Almost. But it’s so far uphill and we’re on the wrong side of it.”

Dovey turned to Hester. “Keep your demon digging. We need a view of that stage, no matter how remote.”

“Why? You heard the girl,” Hester pestered, wincing vicariously as her demon punched at the hole with its injured claw. “What good is a pea-sized rear view—”

“One of Rhian’s pirate guards will likely check on us soon,” Dovey continued. “Hort, given your father was a pirate, I’m assuming you might know these boys?”

“No one I’d call a friend,” Hort punted, picking at his sock.

“Well, try to befriend them,” Dovey urged.

“I’m not befriending a bunch of thugs,” Hort shot back. “They’re mercenaries. They’re not real pirates.”

“And are you a real Professor of History? If you were, you’d know that even mercenary pirates joined the Pirate Parley in helping King Arthur fight the Green Knight,” Dovey rebutted. “Talk to these boys. Get as much information as you can.”

Hort hesitated. “What kind of information?”

“Any information,” the Dean pressed. “How they met Rhian or where Rhian really comes from or—”

Metal creaked and slammed in the distance.

The iron door.

Someone had entered the dungeons.

Bootsteps pounded on stone—

Two pirates in Camelot’s armor dragged a boy’s limp body past the cell, each gripping one of his outstretched arms. The boy resisted weakly, his eye blackened shut, his suit and shirt shredded, his bloodied body drained by whatever tortures they’d inflicted on him since they’d lashed him in chains onstage.

“Tedros?” Kiko croaked.

The prince raised his head, and seeing his friends, he swung towards them, gaping at the crew with his one open eye—

“Where’s Agatha!” he gasped. “Where’s my mother!”

The guards kicked his legs out from under him and yanked him down the corridor into pitch-dark shadows before dumping him into the cell at the very end.

But from Hester’s vantage point, it seemed that the cell at hall’s end had already been occupied, for as they flung Tedros into his cage, they let a prisoner out of it—three prisoners to be precise—who now slinked down the hall, unchained and free.

As these released captives moved out of the shadows, Hester, Anadil, and Dot pressed against the bars and came face-to-face with another coven of three. These haggard triplets glided past them in gray tunics with salt-and-pepper hair to their waists, rawboned limbs, and leathery, coppery skin; their necks and identical faces were long with high, simian foreheads; thin, ashy lips; and almond-shaped eyes. They smirked at Professor Dovey before they followed the pirates out of the dungeons, the door slamming shut behind them.

“Who were those women?” Hester asked, swiveling to Dovey.

“The Mistral Sisters,” said the Dean, grimly. “King Arthur’s advisors who ran Camelot into the ground. Arthur appointed the Mistrals when Guinevere deserted him. After Arthur died, they had free rein over Camelot until Tedros came of age and put them in jail. Whatever reason Rhian has for freeing them, it can’t be good news.” She called down the hall. “Tedros, can you hear me!”

The echoes of Rhian’s speech drowned out whatever response came back, if one came back at all.

“He’s hurt,” Dovey told the quest team. “We can’t just leave him there. We need to help him!”

“How?” said Beatrix anxiously. “Anadil’s rats are gone and we’re trapped here. His cell is way at the other end of the—”

But now they heard the door to the dungeons open once more.

Soft footsteps padded down the staircase. A shadow elongated on the wall, then across their cell bars.

Into the rusty torchlight came a green-masked figure. His skintight suit of black eels hung in slashed ribbons, exposing his young, pale torso spattered with blood.

The entire crew flattened against the walls. So did Professor Dovey.