The School for Good and Evil #6: One True King

by Soman Chainani

  “This isn’t magic,” the boy replied. “It’s me, Japeth. As me as a ghost can be.”

  The Snake inspected him closer, trying and failing to see through him.

  “It isn’t you if you’re not flesh and blood,” Japeth taunted.

  “Try me,” said the boy.

  Japeth stared hard at him. Slowly, one of his scims moved from the boy’s throat up to his mouth . . . and pricked it with its tip. Blood seeped from the boy’s lips. He didn’t flinch.

  Agatha’s eyes bulged.

  So did the Snake’s. “You’re . . . you’re . . . real?”

  “More real than the real thing,” said the boy.

  Japeth’s face warmed with color. He leapt onto the boy’s cloud. “Aric?” He put his nose to Aric’s neck, inhaling his skin, touching his nose, his cheeks, before his arms clasped hard around the boy’s chest. “It’s you. Exactly you.” Tears flooded Japeth’s eyes.

  From her hiding place, Agatha watched a murderous Snake embraced with a murderous savage, the two of them so close and bonded, their love almost . . . human. Emotion tickled her throat, which she instantly shoved down. She couldn’t let herself feel. Not for these two. Even her, with a heart so stubbornly Good.

  “What’s happened to you?” Aric whispered, holding the Snake tight. “Changing yourself to look like Rhian. Pretending to be your own brother. The Japeth I know wouldn’t have done that. Kill Rhian, maybe. But not become him,” he smiled wryly. “Not lose wild, beautiful Japeth along the way.”

  “I did it for you,” Japeth said tensely. “Everything I’ve done is for you. To get you back.”

  “And then what? I have to be with ‘Rhian’ in my new life? And his terrible haircut and fake tan? I have to join your charade?” said Aric.

  “I’ll tell the people the truth. About who I am. You’ll be my new liege—”

  “Ah yes. Japeth the Snake, who attacked their kingdoms, murdered his brother, and pretended to be his brother, now forgiven and welcomed as Camelot’s new king. More than that: the One True King, who controls all their lives with his new Pen. And oh, he’s bringing his love back from the dead with him, who just happens to be a boy.”

  “Then I’ll give up my crown—”

  “They’ll kill you, Japeth. They’ll kill us both. I don’t want to be brought back to life, just to die a more ignoble death than I suffered the first time.”

  Japeth was shivering now. Utterly overwhelmed. “You don’t know what I’ve done for you. Are you really turning down the chance to come back to life? To have a second chance with me? It can’t end this way. With you just . . . leaving?”

  “This isn’t The End,” Aric promised. “But I’m at peace now. If you love me, Japeth, you’ll let me go. The time will come when we’ll be together again. But not like this. First you have to be who you are. Who you really are, not some Snake out to get revenge on my behalf. Surrender the crown that isn’t yours. Admit your deception to the people. Even if you’re punished for it. Even if Excalibur takes your head. Tell the truth and it will set both our souls free. We’ll be together forever, then . . . But fight too hard against fate and your spirit will never find mine. Because you can’t escape your fate, no matter what you want to believe. I learned that the hard way.”

  Japeth nestled into him. “Where was this Aric when you were alive? Who is thoughtful and loving? Who speaks so tenderly to me?”

  “Do what I tell you, dear Japeth,” Aric pressed. “Give us a second chance beyond this world. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Japeth gripped his shirt. “No. Not yet. Please . . . stay with me.”

  “I don’t have that power, friend.”

  “Then let me ask for one thing. Before you go.” Gently Japeth reached a hand to Aric’s gashed mouth, wiping away blood with his fingers. “The one thing I need from you to have peace.”

  “Anything you wish,” said Aric.

  Japeth held his gaze. “Can I kiss you? Like we used to?”

  Aric hesitated, taken aback. He stood straighter, his lips pressing together. “Oh.” He nodded with a smile. “Of course.”

  Japeth’s face sharpened. “Well, in that case . . .” He stepped back just as Aric leaned in. “Let me reconsider. Because we never kissed when you were alive. Your rule.” His fingers were shiny with Aric’s blood. “The real Aric would have known that. The real Aric was ashamed of our love. Which means you must not be Aric at all. You’re exactly what you warned me about. Tedros, with the power to turn into whoever you wish. And that second Aric over there was just a trick to make me believe what you were saying—your mother, I’d bet, from her bumbling pose. She must have the genie’s magic too, a decoy made to sell me your plan. So close, Tedros. So close to getting me to give up. Only one wrinkle in your plan, arrogant prince. I have your blood on my fingers. Your genie-hexed blood with shape-shifting powers . . .”

  The Snake bit his own lip, splitting it open. He licked his fingers, letting his and Aric’s blood mix.

  “. . . and now that blood is in mine,” said Japeth.

  Aric’s irises suddenly went blue—Tedros blue—the prince’s eyes bright with panic.

  The Snake smiled at him. “Let the games begin.”

  In his sky, the light snuffed out, like a door slammed shut.

  24

  THE STORIAN

  The Agatha Quartet

  Tedros had his plan.

  But everyone has a plan until they’re kicked in the face.

  Then the plan isn’t worth very much, is it?

  But it’s not only the prince who is in danger . . .

  At the moment, the Snake Sky was black-out dark. Agatha and Sophie remained huddled inside their cloud, Merlin whimpering between them. They couldn’t see Tedros anywhere. Or the Snake. Just the ragged shapes of clouds and the glint of steel-edged stars. Japeth was out there somewhere. And now with Tedros’ blood in his veins, he’d also absorbed the genie’s powers . . . the power to become anyone he wished.

  “Tee Tee need help,” Merlin squeaked, eyes wet.

  “Shhh,” said Sophie, but the six-year-old was distraught, blubbering louder.

  “Tee Tee!” Merlin fretted, poking his head through the cloud hole. Agatha grabbed him back.

  “Merlin, stay still!”

  But the wizard was already lurching out of their hiding place, Agatha and Sophie scrambling with him, the little wizard wildly swishing his hand—

  The sky flooded with blazing white light, like a storm paused during a lightning strike.

  “Tee Tee!” Merlin smiled with relief.

  Then his smile vanished.

  Because there were three Tedroses in the lit-up sky.

  On three different clouds.

  Each armed with a sharp-bladed star from the sky.

  “Aggie . . . what’s happening . . . ,” Sophie croaked.

  “One is Tedros. One must be Guinevere,” said Agatha, pale with terror. “So the third is . . .”

  Merlin gaped at the two girls. “Hiss.”

  All three Tedroses looked at each other. Then at Agatha.

  Instantly, they sprinted for her.

  “Agatha, it’s me!” cried one.

  “No, it’s me!” yelled the second.

  “Don’t listen to them!” shouted the third.

  Three princes with gem-blue eyes, golden waves of hair, and a torn black cloak. Each as Tedros as the other.

  “Which one’s real?” Sophie gasped.

  But Agatha was already running, diving off her cloud and burying into one far below. Sunk in cold green puffs, she closed her eyes and tried to focus. In that split second, she’d scouted the Tedroses closely. The way they carried themselves, the way they targeted her . . . The real Tedros wanted to protect her; the Snake’s Tedros wanted to kill her; while Guinevere had surely taken Tedros’ form to throw off the Snake. And yet, they all looked the same. Sounds of chaos echoed above; no doubt they’d seen where she landed. She had to keep moving. But where to? Her only hope was to
pick a Tedros: a two-in-three chance of being saved; a one-in-three chance of being gutted . . .

  A body plunged into fluff next to her. Agatha turned to flee—

  “It’s me,” Sophie panted, blinking emerald eyes, her black-feathered dress bunched in the cloud. “Stay with me. Don’t move.”

  Agatha exhaled. Then her heart kick-started. “Wait . . . how do I know you’re . . .” She backed up. “What’s the name of my cat?”

  “Aggie—”

  “What’s its name!”

  “Reaper.”

  “And he’s King of the—”

  “Gnomes. Agatha, listen—”

  “What’s the name of the runty, bucktoothed boy in Gavaldon who was obsessed with you?”

  Sophie stared at her blankly. “Ummm—”

  “Stay back,” Agatha choked, crawling away, before she felt Sophie’s arm grab her. Agatha whirled around, finger lit, about to shoot a spell—

  Only to see Guinevere, where Sophie had just been.

  “It’s me, Agatha. I thought you’d trust me if I took Sophie’s form. Listen to me: the Snake is out there, looking like Tedros. You and I have to stick together or he’ll—”

  But Agatha was in a blind panic, questioning if Guinevere was really Guinevere, her body already lunging out of the cloud and dashing into open light with no direction or plan. Guinevere chased her. “Agatha, wait!”

  “You’re supposed to protect her, Mother!” one of the Tedroses barked at Guinevere veering towards Agatha.

  Agatha whirled to this prince, the real Tedros . . . but then she glimpsed the other Tedros throttling from the opposite direction, closing faster, faster, the blade-sharp star raised in his hand, both Tedroses about to flying-leap onto her cloud, with Agatha trapped between them—

  A third body cannonballed from above: Sophie with young Merlin piggybacked to her, crashing on top of Agatha. By the time Agatha recovered, Sophie’s dress of feathers was sweeping the two girls upwards like a black swan, away from the twin Tedroses, both princes receding and indistinguishable, before little Merlin swished his hands and doused the sky’s light.

  Pure darkness reigned once more.

  Sophie’s black dress magically expanded, hiding her and Agatha in a round cocoon that floated midair, while Merlin perched atop the cocoon, keeping watch.

  “Please tell me it’s you,” Agatha rasped to Sophie, huddled in feathers. “The real you.”

  “As real as the bran biscuits I generously made you in Gavaldon that you used to dump in your graveyard when I wasn’t looking. Listen, there’s two Tedroses. One is Teddy. One is the Snake. And yet, somehow I can’t fathom which is him. Teddy did a magnificent job playing Aric and now is doing an odious job playing himself. Maybe if Teddy had more substance or character, he’d be easier to recognize—”

  “Now I know it’s you,” Agatha snapped. “Can’t Merlin tell them apart?”

  “Tee Tee Tee Tee. Two Tee Tees,” a child’s voice pipped.

  “That’s a no. Aggie, what’s something only Tedros would know about you? Something Japeth can’t know.”

  “Snake’s read The Tale of Sophie and Agatha, inside and out. Everything you know, he knows, and you know everything.” Agatha paused. “Except . . .”

  “Except?”

  “How Tedros proposed to marry me.”

  Agatha’s big eyes sparkled in the dark, so intensely that Sophie turned away. “Well, heaven forbid your best friend know how your prince asked to marry you! Seems like something a best friend might share. But seeing you haven’t, you should use your little secret to suss out your groom,” said Sophie. “As soon as you find who the real Tedros is, we’ll know who the Snake is and attack him. I don’t care if killing him isn’t the Good thing to do or won’t make Teddy king. If he’s Rafal’s son, the sooner he’s dead the better. I’ll stay up here until you find him. This way, I can shoot spells at anyone who dares comes near you, since I’m the only one who knows you’re actually you.”

  Agatha’s neck rashed red. “I can’t leave you here—”

  “If I’m with you, the Snake will know who you are. I’m not letting him kill you, Agatha. I’m not letting him win. Find Tedros. Kill the creep. Got it?” Sophie’s dress opened like a flower and she brought Merlin down into her arms. “I’ll keep this one with me so he’s safe. Now go.”

  Before Agatha could speak, Sophie shoved her from the cocoon. Agatha flopped onto a cloud down below. Above her, Merlin swished his hands—

  Light returned to the Snake Sky.

  Agatha braced herself, ready to pick Tedros from his impostor, confident she knew how to find the answer . . . then saw the answer no longer matched the question.

  Because where Agatha expected two Tedroses to choose between, now there were none.

  Instead, there were three Agathas on the clouds surrounding her, each dressed in the same pink dress and hooded black cloak that she was wearing.

  A quartet of Agathas, which included the real Agatha since now the other three were inspecting her and each other, with no inkling yet as to who was who.

  Until this very moment, I’ve told this tale through Agatha’s eyes as if it were her story to tell. But where Agatha no doubt thinks she is the main character of her story, as any Man in the throes of life does, the Pen has a wider view of things. Which is why we must turn to Sophie, high on a cloud, entrusted with protecting her best friend, but suddenly confused as to which was the real Agatha and which were the fakes.

  “Merlin, who’s Aggie?” she asked the child with her.

  But the wizard too had lost track.

  All Sophie knew was that she had to find the real Agatha before Japeth did.

  Think, Sophie coaxed herself.

  Why had they all taken Agatha’s form?

  Each had good reason.

  Tedros and Guinevere wanted to confuse the Snake, who was hunting Agatha to win the second test. Meanwhile, the Snake wanted to confuse Tedros, who was determined to protect his princess.

  At first, Sophie assumed Japeth’s Agatha would attack the others, believing he’d slay the real Agatha in the process and win his test. And yet, this would also give the Snake away, enabling Tedros, Agatha, and Guinevere to team against him and Sophie to snipe him with a spell from above . . . which is precisely why the Snake’s Agatha wasn’t attacking and instead hanging back like his fellow Agathas, waiting for someone else to make the first move.

  Sophie realized that someone had to be her.

  “Attention, friends and filth,” she called crisply, her dress of black feathers holding her in the sky, like an extraterrestrial bird. Four Agathas craned their heads up. A spotlight appeared on Sophie out of nowhere (Merlin trying to be helpful). “Allow me to ask some questions. Think of it as a test. The Tournament of Stings. Each of you will take a turn answering and if I sense a certain serpentine quality to your answer, you will be stung.” Sophie lit her fingerglow, a smoking-hot pink. “A well-aimed stun spell to the head, reserved precisely for Snakes pretending to be my best friend. And I’m not sure you’ll wake up alive, given that as much as you want Agatha dead, my friends and I want you dead more. Shall we begin?”

  She glared down at the Agatha Quartet lined up left to right, still hoping Japeth would snap and show himself, but the four Agathas stared right back, willing to engage.

  Clever Snake. He’s looking for Agatha the same way we’re looking for him, Sophie thought.

  She had to be careful with her questions.

  “What is Agatha’s favorite food?” Sophie asked, starting with the Agatha on the left.

  “Candy,” said Agatha #1.

  “Honeycake,” said Agatha #2.

  “Cinnamon rolls,” said Agatha #3.

  “Jellybeans,” said Agatha #4.

  Sophie frowned. Agatha’s taste for sweets preceded her, it seemed. Worse still, Sophie had assumed the answer would be salted peanut crunch, since Agatha used to consume mounds of it in Gavaldon, but apparently it wasn’t, since whoeve
r the real Agatha was didn’t agree. The responses weren’t entirely unhelpful, though. Only Guinevere, Tedros, and Agatha had been in the Mirage Pub, where Agatha had discovered honeycake, meaning Agatha #2 wasn’t the Snake. And Agatha #4 wasn’t Tedros or Agatha, because anyone who knew Agatha would know she found jellybeans infantile. So who was who? It felt like a math problem, and Sophie had always found math a poor use of time, so she gave up and asked another question instead.

  “Who is the One True King?” Sophie asked.

  Come out, come out, little Snake.

  “Tedros,” said Agatha #1.

  “Tedros,” said Agatha #2.

  “Tedros,” said Agatha #3.

  “Whoever wins the Tournament of Kings,” said Agatha #4. “Just as Arthur willed.”

  Agatha #1, #2, and #3 all peered at Agatha #4. So did Sophie.

  Has to be the Snake, she thought. Can’t even stomach the idea of saying Tedros’ name.

  Sophie bit her lip. And yet . . . would the Snake give himself away so easily? Isn’t Japeth smarter than that?

  She could see Agatha #3 studying the fourth Agatha, fists curling as if itching to attack, but also struggling with the same doubts Sophie had.

  Sophie focused harder—

  Agatha #2 isn’t the Snake.

  Agatha #3 is Tedros or Agatha.

  Agatha #4 isn’t Tedros or Agatha.

  She was getting closer.

  One more question.

  The question.

  “Tell me. How did Tedros propose to you?” Sophie asked. Agatha #4 gave Agatha #3 a coy glance, which Sophie noticed. Agatha #1 noticed too and gave Agatha #4 a probing look. Agatha #2, meanwhile, glowered hard at Sophie, though Sophie didn’t know if it was because she was offended or stumped. All in all, Sophie felt more baffled than ever.

  “Well?” Sophie hounded. “How did the prince ask you to marry him?”

  “It’s a secret,” said Agatha #1.

  “Kept it to myself for a reason,” said Agatha #2.