Then Cinderella’s expression changed.

Agatha turned and saw the entire group stopped on the path, gawking at her and her mentor, as if they were a lion and rabbit having a garden party.

“Oh good grief, the fools think I’ve gone soft,” Cinderella growled.

“I’ll tell them I groveled for forgiveness,” said Agatha.

“And pledged your eternal servitude too,” snapped Cinderella. “Now get back to your blasted prince before you completely ruin my reputation.”

With a wink, she gave her charge a swift kick in the buttocks, and Agatha couldn’t help but smile as she stumbled away, wondering how different her life might have been if she’d just learned to say sorry more often.

31

Spies in the Stymph Forest

By the time they made it to the outskirts of the Stymph Forest, the sun’s shrinking glow was firmly in the east.

“Only a few hours until the sun sets,” Tedros said nervously, his hand moving to Excalibur as if to make sure it was there. “Even Lance keeps looking at the sun like he knows we’re doomed.”

“Lance. He gets a nickname from you and I don’t?”

Tedros glanced at Agatha. She cracked a smile.

“It’s not funny,” he said, seeing the entrance to the Stymph Forest ahead. “There is no escape this time. The dark is coming, Agatha. This is The End for us. The real End—”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand, still affected by Cinderella’s story. “So let’s try to hold on to every last bit of light that we can.”

He stared at her. “Now you decide to be romantic? Now?”

Agatha stopped smiling. “Look, Merlin has a plan, all right? He has to have a plan.”

In front of them, the other pairs began to slow down as they approached the gates of the Stymph Forest. At the entrance stood two colossal elm trees, as tall as castle towers, with their trunks bowed towards each other and dead branches whittled into the shape of a bristling black swan, beak open, feathers beating, so lifelike in its impending attack that Agatha felt herself clutch Tedros tighter as they crossed beneath it.

She shook off her fear. “I mean, it’s Merlin we’re talking about, the Merlin of legend and myth, who never fails Good in times of crisis—”

“Except when he deserts us for six days, forgets to recruit a real army, drags us straight into School Master territory without weapons, and doesn’t teach us a single fire spell to kill any of the two hundred zombies about to eat us.”

Agatha swallowed.

They couldn’t see anything now, for the Stymph Forest was so dense with sky-high elms that it scrubbed out the last pinprick of sun. Agatha waited for someone to light a torch or a fingerglow, but no one took the initiative, as if it was less frightening to be in the dark than to see what was lurking in the trees. With no other light source, the nineteen heroes folded in a tight hive behind the wizard, whose hat led the way with its glowing white stars.