8

When Good Rescues Go Bad

The path through webbed trees was so narrow and dark that the three Evers had to travel one behind the other, like ducks out of a pond. While Tedros fixed his gold fingerglow on Princess Uma ahead, he kept peeking back at Agatha, whose gold fingerglow was pinned on him.

“Stop checking on me,” Agatha finally snapped.

“Oh, no, it’s just . . . I didn’t remember our glows matching so much,” Tedros fumbled and quickly turned around.

Agatha didn’t answer. For one thing, she was sick of his worried glances and sugar-sweet conversation, as if she was about to have a nervous breakdown or drown herself in the nearest pond. For another, she didn’t feel like talking to anyone (least of all about inane color symmetries), anxious the conversation might drift back to her mother. But most of all, she was preoccupied with wresting Sophie away from the School Master, rehearsing again and again what she’d say to her best friend when they finally made it to school.

Tell her how much you miss her . . . or should I apologize first? . . . How do you apologize for ruining someone’s life? “Sorry I tried to banish you forever” . . . “Sorry I thought you were a witch” . . . “Sorry I never asked your mother’s name and I’m a crap friend . . .”

Agatha gulped. Oh, why drudge up the past? Just get her to destroy the ring and then focus on the future. The three of us at Camelot—a clean slate—

Agatha smiled, trying to be confident . . . and slowly deflated.

Apologize first.

Agatha tensed again. But suppose she won’t destroy the ring? she thought, remembering how handsome the young School Master was. She thinks he’s her true love, Uma had said, and Agatha knew from experience that Sophie wasn’t one to give up on love once she thought she’d found it. What if she’s happy without me? What if she doesn’t want me anymore?

“I’ll rescue Sophie when we find her,” Tedros broke in, as if he’d decoded her silence. “Not sure she’ll want you there, to be honest. Let me talk to her alone.”

Agatha looked up, aghast.

“For one thing, you’ve been through enough already, my love,” her prince added, hopping over a log. “Second, you tend to faint at crucial moments. And third, Sophie and I have our own special bond.”

Agatha followed him, stumbling over the log. “First of all, I’m fine. Second, I fainted once—”

“Twice: waltz class and by the lake—”

“And third, she’s my best friend—I’ll rescue her—”

“Look, it’s best if I do it,” Tedros said, walking faster. “You two seem to have serious communication issues.”

“And you two don’t?” Agatha said, chasing him.

“All you and Sophie ever do is fight—”