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.
“But y-y-you’re . . . dead!” Hort cried.
“We saw your body!” said Dot.
“Rhian killed you!” said Kiko.
The Snake’s ice-blue eyes glared through his mask.
From behind his back, he produced one of Anadil’s rats, the rodent writhing in his grip.
The Snake raised a finger and the scaly black scim covering his fingertip turned knife-sharp. The rat let out a terrible squeak—
“No!” Anadil screamed.
The Snake stabbed the rat in the heart and dropped it to the floor.
“My guards are searching for the two you sent to find Merlin and Agatha,” he said in a crisp, deep voice as he walked away. “Next one I find, I’ll kill one of you too.”
He didn’t look back. The iron door thudded behind him.
Anadil scrambled forward, reaching through the cell bars and scraping her rat into her hands . . . but it was too late.
She sobbed, clutching it against her chest as she curled into a corner.
Hort, Nicola, and Dot tried to comfort her, but she was crying so hard she started to shiver.
Only when Hester touched her did Anadil’s wails slowly soften.
“She was so scared,” Anadil sniffled, shearing off a patch of her dress and wrapping her rat’s body in it. “She looked right at me, knowing she was going to die.”
“She was a faithful henchman to the end,” Hester soothed.
Anadil buried her head in her friend’s shoulder.
“How did the Snake know the other rats were searching for Merlin and Agatha?” Hort blurted as if there was no more time to mourn.
“Forget that,” said Nicola. “How is the Snake alive?”
Hester’s stomach plunged.
“That thing I saw through the hole . . . I didn’t think it could be . . . ,” she said, watching her demon still hammering at the stone crack, undeterred by the Snake. She turned to the group. “It was a scim.”
“So he was listening the whole time?” Beatrix said.
“That means he knows about everything!” said Hort, pointing at the hole. “No way can we send a message to Sophie. Scim’s probably still out there, listening to us right now!”
Spooked, they turned to Professor Dovey, who was peering down the hall towards the staircase.
“What is it?” asked Hester.
“His voice,” said Dovey. “It’s the first time I’ve heard it. But it sounded . . . familiar.”
The crew looked at each other blankly.
Then they tuned in to the king still booming from beyond: “I grew up with nothing and now I’m your king. Sophie grew up a Reader and will now be your queen. We are just like you—”
“Actually, he sounded a bit like Rhian,” said Hester.
“A lot like Rhian,” said Willam and Bogden at once.
“Exactly like Rhian,” Professor Dovey concluded.
A crackling noise came from the wall.
Hester’s demon had wedged loose another pebble-sized stone above the hole, opening it up further, before he’d exhausted all strength and collapsed back into his master’s neck.
“I can see the stage now,” said Nicola, putting her eye to the hole. “Just barely . . .”
“Good, we can mirrorspell it here. I can’t do it from my cell, but Hester can,” said Professor Dovey. “Hester, it’s the charm I taught you after Sophie moved into the School Master’s tower. The one that let you and me spy on her
