Dovey has her hands full. The Deans are responsible for all fourth years once they leave for their missions. Especially with no new School Master in place.”
“Wouldn’t Sophie have mentioned something in her letters? She’s Dean too.”
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” Agatha agreed. “What do you think is happening out there that has Dovey stressed?”
“And Merlin worried?” said Tedros.
“And why would it be connected to you not pulling your dad’s sword?” said Agatha.
Tedros glanced away, tensing, and he could feel Agatha tighten too, knowing she’d said the wrong thing. He didn’t want to talk about the sword with her. Not just because it made him feel inadequate, but because he didn’t want her pity.
“I’m still imagining what Lance would look like if Merlin turned him into a girl,” said Agatha, mercifully changing the subject.
“No way Merlin would go for it,” said Tedros. “Lance would make such a beastly female that it would only call attention to itself.”
“You were a pretty beastly female yourself, Essa.”
“Wasn’t I the one who had boys whistling at me in the halls?”
“Boys who like their girls hulking, hairy, and belligerent.”
“Now you’re just jealous.”
“Well, if you want to be a girl so badly, maybe you should plan the wedding,” Agatha teased.
“Honestly, I found it sexist too at first: the new king focuses on governance, his princess on the wedding,” said Tedros. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized traditions exist for a reason. I grew up in Camelot. The people have known me since I was a baby. You, on the other hand, are brand-new to them. The kingdom knows nothing about you. Planning the wedding is your coronation test.”
“And I want to pass it with flying colors, not for me, but for the both of us,” Agatha said earnestly. “But I’d rather be helping you.”
Tedros exhaled. “Help me manage our debts to other kingdoms that will take centuries to repay? Or help me find out where all Camelot’s gold went when the three advisors who handled this gold refuse to speak to me? Or help me fight rampant thieving by the poor, even though it helps them survive? Which would you like to help me with?”
“All of it. Any of it,” Agatha said. “I know how hard it is—”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You can’t know how hard it is to watch your father’s kingdom turn its back on Good.”
“Just like you can’t know how hard it is to watch your one true love turn his back on you,” said Agatha.
Tedros didn’t argue.
Finally he looked at her, tears gleaming. “You really want to help me, Agatha? Then tell me how to pull my sword out of that stone. Tell me how to pass my father’s test.” He wiped his nose. “Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you? I knew this would happen. I knew I’d break down and ask you for help. Can’t even finish my coronation on my own. Maybe Merlin’s right. Maybe the sword doesn’t want me to be king.” He slouched into a sealed-off ball. “Not now. Not ever.”
He felt Agatha’s hand slide across his back and wrap him into her. She tipped his face upwards.
“Who says a good king can’t get help when he needs it most?”
His eyes met hers and a wall inside him crumbled, feelings rushing through. How had he gone this long without coming to her—she, the only person who ever truly understood him?
“I can see him looking at me in my dreams. My father,” said Tedros. “Staring at me as if he knows why I’ve failed. He’s part of this and I don’t know how.”
Agatha wasn’t listening; she was deep in thought, already pouncing on his ask for help.
“Let’s be smart about this,” she said. “Merlin had two theories: either the sword wants you to prove you’re king or the sword is being controlled by someone who doesn’t want you to be king. In any case, grabbing at the sword day after day isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
“But loafing around on a cloud isn’t going to solve the problem either,” he said, sitting up.
“You’re forgetting the most important thing Merlin said. He said it isn’t only our quest that’s run into trouble. It’s our whole class.”
“That would explain all those strange attacks in the Woods,” said Tedros. “So you think whoever is messing up their quests is messing up ours too?”
“Maybe Merlin’s two theories are actually one,” Agatha nodded. “The King of Camelot is supposed to be the leader of the Woods. If something Evil is happening out there, you have to go and find it. You have to figure out what—or who—is disrupting our missions and set things right again. Maybe then you’ll be able to pull the sword loose. Maybe that’s your real quest.”
Tedros’ face glowed with hope … then dimmed. “Agatha, a king can’t just desert his people and go questing in the Woods. Not when they already doubt me. Who knows how long I’d be out there? Look what became of this place while I was gone at school. Total chaos. Even if my reign has begun badly, if something happened to me, Camelot would end up in the wrong hands again. Maybe forever this time.” He shook his head. “I can’t go.”
“But I can,” Agatha jumped in, as if she’d known this would be their conclusion.
“Agatha, I asked you for help. Not to take over my test,” said Tedros impatiently. “You heard Merlin. This isn’t your quest. It’s mine.”
“And my quest is to be your queen. Helping seal your place as king is more worthy of a queen’s attention than picking frosting for our cake. All I need is a few knights for the journey. Chaddick will be back any day with a new fleet for your Round Table—”
“He hasn’t answered my letters in weeks,” Tedros said. Then his face changed. “You don’t think something went wrong on his quest too?”
“Even more reason for me to go, then, and to go right away,” Agatha replied. “I need to find out what’s stopping all of us from fulfilling our missions, Good and Evil. This is as much my test as it is yours, Tedros. You’re not in this alone anymore.”
Tedros saw the steely resolve in her big brown eyes and suddenly he knew that if he didn’t let her go, she would go on her own.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to butt in,” he muttered.
“We’re going to be married soon, Tedros,” Agatha reminded him. “I’m supposed to butt in.”
Tedros said nothing, picking at his shorts. “So how long would you be gone?”
“A few weeks. I’ll send you letters each night.”
“A few weeks in the Woods … alone?”
“But
