From Gillikin, the trail had led them out of Ever strongholds into Never territory—Ravenbow by afternoon, with its steaming rivers of blood and castles of bone, then Magalae at sunset, with its rope bridges across crog-filled sludge pits, then Drupathi in the moonlight, a land of orange tree blossoms and papaya-colored fruit, completely out of place amongst the sinister Never Lands and withering Woods, until Sophie had glimpsed the dunes of dead flies beneath the trees and realized everything here was toxic.

All through the Never Lands, Sophie had seen pairs of eyes flickering beyond the trail, yellow, red, and green, accompanied by growls and hisses in the underbrush. Still, nothing attacked and she ventured that as long as they stayed within the boundaries of Merlin’s light, they’d be safe from harm.

Tedros snorted. “Oh please, no one’s afraid of an old wizard’s magic. They’re afraid of a young, strapping prince with his father’s sword. Until Evil actually seals a Never After, they know Good still always wins.”

“Tell that to once-dead zombie villains who have nothing to lose,” said Sophie. “Do you know what safe house Merlin is taking us to?”

“Not a clue. Nowhere in the Woods is safe, if you ask me.”

“What about that strange purple sky we hid in during the escape?”

“The Celestium? It’s just a place for Merlin to think. Air’s too thin up there to breathe for more than a few hours. Even if there was a safe house in the Woods somewhere, the Dark Army could easily find us. It has to be a place no one knows. A place Merlin’s stashed secrets before.” Tedros stopped and exhaled his frustration. “Will you really not tell me why you’re still wearing that ring?”

“It’s your birthday in a few weeks, isn’t it?” Sophie pivoted deftly. “No wonder you’re being extra careful about your choice of a princess.”

Tedros hesitated, as if unsure whether to pursue the old subject or the new.

“I’m ready to be king,” he said finally, tramping on. “Been parentless for years now, so I’m not of those sheltered brats, who’ll put himself before his people like some young kings. Not that the people are expecting much. Camelot’s been a bloody mess since my father died. His council is supposed to be running the realm until I’m sixteen and instead they’re starving people, executing dissidents, and hoarding his gold. No matter. I’ll throw them in the dungeons on my first day as king.” He looked at Sophie. “We’ll make my father’s kingdom new again.”

A kinetic shock lit up Sophie’s body.

“We’ll?”

Had it been a slip? Or was it deliberate?

She saw Tedros still looking at her, as if expecting her to contribute to a conversation she’d started. “Oh I’m sure we . . . you . . . yes, it’ll be glorious, won’t it?” Sophie bumbled. “But what about your mother? Last year you said there was a death warrant on—”

“Not something I think about,” Tedros clipped. “Probably dead by now anyway. No one ever saw her or Lancelot again after the night they left.”