Agatha frowned. “But wait, how are we supposed to fight him? How are we supposed to . . .”

But she was yawning now, and she knew he’d done something to her, for her body grew numb and her head so heavy that she sank through the cloud like an anchor. She thrust out her hand for Merlin, striving to stay awake, trying to grab hold of him, but all she felt was a fistful of stars as she fell into the dark, and the warm taste of sky in her mouth.

Voices swelled sharply out of the void and Agatha’s eyes opened.

She was sprawled on the floor in one of Guinevere’s blue tattered blankets. The witches were gone from the room, their bed neatly made. Through the window, she could see the inky night sky, with no sign of the sunrise.

Agatha followed the voices towards the den and glimpsed her friends, young and old, packing burlap sacks with crackers and fruit and tins of water, while devouring last bowls of oatmeal. Everyone was clad in thick black cloaks, buzzing in hushed whispers, except for Guinevere, who was still in her nightdress, packing a bag for Lancelot while the knight polished his sword. As Agatha inched into the den, she noticed that the group was no longer divided into old on one side and young on the other as usual, but into the various mentor groups—Hort with Peter Pan, Anadil with Jack and Briar Rose, Hester with Hansel and Gretel, Dot with Red Riding Hood . . . before Hort caught sight of Agatha and he and Pan went quiet. All the other pairs did too.

Merlin sauntered into the den from the dining room, sipping a mug of coffee.

“Tried to keep our voices low, my dear. Wanted to give you a bit more rest.”

In her sleepy daze, Agatha didn’t understand.

But then she felt someone touch her shoulder.

She looked up at Tedros, clean and beautiful in a black cloak, Excalibur strapped to his back. He clasped her hand with a scared smile.

“It’s time,” he said.

30

Apologies and Confessions

Agatha knew they were all doomed when Tedros tried to convince Lancelot to stay behind with his mother.

Tedros knew as well as Agatha did that they needed the knight to join their army in the war to come. So for him to beg Lancelot to remain at the house meant Tedros knew they were all going to die. For as much as the prince despised the scalawag knight, he couldn’t bear the thought of his mother losing him.

Not that his wishes mattered in the end. Guinevere wouldn’t hear of it.

She said her goodbye to Lancelot out on the moonlit moors, just as she did with the rest of her guests, taking the time to give brisk hugs to each, as if they were all popping off to a shop and would be back by lunch.