Just like Guinevere, a voice echoed.

Just like Guinevere.

A sparkle of green distracted her from her thoughts, and in Cinderella’s mirror Agatha spotted the reflection of a single emerald eye spying on Tedros through the curtain.

Old villains on the hunt indeed.

Agatha waited for the fire to burn inside of her . . . the mettle to fight Sophie for her prince . . .

But it never came.

For as Agatha looked at thirteen heroes who needed her, she knew Sophie was right. She couldn’t risk their lives by striving for a crown she doubted to her very core . . . for a kingdom she would inevitably fail . . . for a king who would see he’d made a terrible mistake.

How could she fight for something her heart didn’t even want? Especially when there was a greater fight to be won?

It’s why Sophie had known all along that Agatha would agree to her terms.

Because Agatha could never be Tedros’ queen, no matter how much she loved him.

And because Sophie knew that deep, deep down, in the pit of her soul, Agatha was Good. And when put to the test, Agatha would sacrifice everything to stay true to that Good.

Even if it meant surrendering her battle to win the war.

Even if it meant giving up her prince.

Even if it meant her prince giving up her.

Slowly Agatha looked up at Tedros, holding back tears.

“We’re moving on,” she said.

22

Everything Old Is New Again

By the time the weak warmth of sunrise left League Headquarters, the League was gone too.

Agatha stood with Merlin under a fungus-infected oak a few paces from the entrance hole, watching twelve old heroes go their separate ways into the Woods, satchels of clothes, food, and drink weighing down their backs. Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, and Cinderella journeyed to the west, Pinocchio and Red Riding Hood to the east, Jack and Briar Rose to the north, and Uma, Yuba, and the White Rabbit to the south, with Hansel and Gretel wheeling their rickety chairs behind them.

Tedros sidled up to Agatha. “Just when I was starting to feel fond of the old farts,” he said, shivering in his unlaced shirt. “You think we’ll ever see them again, Merlin?”

“I hope so, dear boy. Because it will mean we’re still alive,” said the wizard, pulling two black cloaks from his hat and handing him one. “In the meantime, there are bigger questions to be answered.” Merlin fixed subtly on Agatha. “Like when Sophie will destroy the ring.”

“What do you think she’s waiting for?” Tedros asked, struggling to button his tight cloak. “Um, are you sure this one’s mine?”

Agatha stared at Merlin, silently asking whether they should tell Tedros the truth. Tell him Sophie had lied about destroying the ring. Tell him she wouldn’t kill the School Master until he kissed her and saw what he’d been missing . . . until he took her as Camelot’s queen . . .