A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,3

done is done,” said the Lady of the Lake. “My loyalty is to the king.”

She sank deeper—

“Would the true king hurt Merlin?” Agatha cried out. “Would Arthur’s heir break his promise to you and leave you like this? You say Excalibur makes no mistakes, but you made Excalibur and you made a mistake. You know you did. Look at you! Please. Listen to me. Truth has become Lies and Lies the Truth. Good and Evil have become one and the same. A Lion and a Snake worked together to steal the crown. Even your sword can’t tell what makes a king anymore. Somewhere inside you, you know I speak the Truth. The real Truth. All I’m asking for is the Snake’s face. Tell me what the boy you kissed looks like. Give me the answer to my question and I’ll never return. The same deal you made with Merlin. And I swear to you: this deal will be kept.”

The Lady of the Lake locked eyes with Agatha. Deep in the water, the nymph treaded silently, tattered robes splayed like a dead jellyfish. Then she faded down into its depths and disappeared.

“No,” Agatha whispered.

She dropped to her knees in the snow and put her face in her hands. She had no wizard, no Deans, no prince, no friends to rely on. She had nowhere to go. No one to turn to. And now Good’s last hope had deserted her.

She thought of her prince lashed in chains. . . . She thought of Rhian clutching Sophie, his bride and prisoner. . . . She thought of the Snake, leering at her in the castle, like this was only the beginning. . . .

A burble came from the lake.

She peeked through her fingers to see a scroll of parchment floating towards her.

Heart throttling, Agatha snatched the scroll and pulled it open.

The Lady had given her an answer.

“But . . . but this is impossible . . . ,” she blurted, looking back at the lake.

The silence only thickened.

She blinked back at the wet scroll: a bold, inked painting of a beautiful boy.

A boy Agatha knew.

She shook her head, baffled.

Because Agatha had asked the Lady of the Lake to draw the Snake’s face. The Snake who’d kissed the Lady and left her to rot. The Snake who’d killed Agatha’s friends and hidden behind a mask. The Snake who’d joined forces with Rhian and made him king.

Only the Lady of the Lake hadn’t drawn the Snake’s face at all.

She’d drawn Rhian’s.

2

THE COVEN

Lionsmane

Hester, Anadil, and Dot sat shell-shocked in a stinking cell, flanked by fellow quest team members Beatrix, Reena, Hort, Willam, Bogden, Nicola, and Kiko. Just minutes ago, they’d been on the castle balcony for a Woods-wide celebration. Together with Tedros and Agatha, they’d presented the Snake’s dead body to the people and basked in Camelot’s victory over a vicious enemy.

Now they were in Camelot’s prison, condemned as enemies themselves.

Hester waited for someone to say something . . . for someone to take the lead. . . .

But that’s what Agatha usually did. And Agatha wasn’t here.

Through the cell wall, she could hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing ceremony, turned into King Rhian’s coronation—

“From this day forward, you are rid of a king who closed his doors to you when you needed him,” Rhian declared. “A king who cowered while a Snake ravaged your kingdoms. A king who failed his father’s test. From this day forward, you have a real king. King Arthur’s true heir. We may be divided into Good and Evil, but we are one Woods. The fake king is punished. The forgotten people aren’t forgotten anymore. The Lion is listening to you now!”

“LION! LION! LION!” the chants echoed.

Hester felt her demon tattoo steam red on her neck. Next to her, Anadil and Dot tugged at the pastel dresses they’d been made to wear for the ceremony, along with their prissy, primped curls. Nicola tore off a strip of her dress to re-bandage a wound on Hort’s shoulder that he’d gotten in battle against the Snake, while Hort kicked uselessly at the cell door. Beatrix and Reena were trying to light their fingerglows to no avail, and Anadil’s three black rats kept poking heads out of her pocket, waiting for orders, before Anadil shoved them back down. In the corner, red-haired Willam and runty Bogden anxiously studied tarot cards, with Hester picking up their whispers: “bad gifts” . . . “warned him” . . . “should have listened” . . .

No one