The water was ice-cold and a squalid, slimy green, obscuring any sign of her cat, until she saw Reaper’s bright yellow eyes floating far below like signal flares. Down she swam, into pitch-dark deep, holding her breath, until her feet touched the sand. Unable to see anything but his two disembodied eyes, blinking and darting in blackness, she focused on her finger until it glowed gold, lighting up the sea floor. Reaper was digging frantically at a grave with his bald, wrinkly paws, an oval-shaped headstone looming over him.

Breath running low, Agatha tried to pull Reaper away, since she knew Vanessa’s grave was empty, but he dodged her grip and kept clawing and digging into sand. She snatched him again, only this time Reaper bit her wrist hard and Agatha screamed, losing the rest of her air as droplets of blood blurred into the water. Incensed, she grabbed her cat by the neck to tug him to the surface, when she glanced down through the hole he’d been digging into Sophie’s mother’s grave . . . and saw two green eyes glaring back at her.

Agatha woke, soggy with sweat, to a sea of empty mattresses around her. Her whole body ached from the previous day’s journey and her forehead pounded so hard she had to squint, pulsing with the remnants of her dream and everything Merlin had told her last night. With a groan, she slid her feet onto the sandy cave floor and sat up on the edge of the bed.

The cave was fully lit, the League members eating porridge and stewed peaches at the dining table. They were watching Tedros doing shirtless push-ups, while old, paunchy Tinkerbell reclined on his back like a sunbather at the beach, enjoying the ride up and down.

“Should’ve seen my muscles when I was his age,” Peter Pan scoffed.

Tink made a low chinkling sound that sounded like a snort.

“Never fall for a handsome man. Think they’re entitled to the whole world, even once they’re bloated and balding,” pecked Cinderella, picking at Peter’s peaches once she’d lapped up her own. She caught Agatha watching and smirked back nastily. “Besides, if Pretty Boy chose that as his true love, means all the other girls said no. Probably doesn’t measure up, if you know what I mean.”

Tedros heard this and collapsed mid-push-up, sending Tinkerbell flying into the wall.

“Don’t be rude, Ella,” puffed Red Riding Hood. “You’re just jealous they’re young and happy.”

“Happy? Not what Uma says,” Pinocchio chuckled.

Everyone turned to Uma, Agatha included. Uma froze with a teapot in hand and turned straight back to Pinocchio.

“What? You told me all they ever do is fight and the girl thinks the boy should find a princess who’s cute and stupid and kisses his bum,” said the long-nosed old man.

Tedros looked at Agatha, stunned, before his blue eyes narrowed coldly. “Sounds pretty great right about now.” He stalked past her and vanished behind the curtain to wash up.