The Last Ever After (32 page)

Sophie stared at him, aghast.

“Made Agatha tell me about your beauty routines,” he quipped. “Helped us laugh after fights.”

“Glad to see I'm the court jester!” Sophie lashed, tears rising. “Is that what you think of me? A slave to beauty, an empty ball gown, a bubbleheaded sidekick who isn't worth a second thought?”

“Sophie, you're wearing a short skirt on a winter
hike
!”

“Because you haven't seen me as a girl in a very long time and I want you to remember you loved that girl once!”

It came out before Sophie could stop it and she saw Tedros freeze on the path.

“You promised to give me a chance,” Sophie breathed, dabbing eyes with her bearskin coat. “Even if you still love Agatha. You promised you'd give me a chance.”

Tedros lifted Sophie's chin, his blue gaze honest and unblinking.

“I
am
giving you a chance, Sophie. I'm here with you, aren't I? I haven't mentioned Agatha once on our entire trip. You're the one who keeps bringing her up. But instead of worrying about her or worrying about what I see on your outside, maybe you should be trying to show me your inside.” His tone was serious and mature. “So tell me, Sophie of Woods Beyond. What would
you
do for my kingdom as queen?”

He strode ahead on the path, between ripples of white-hot glow.

Sophie pursued him, pumping with hope. In the trail light, she could see the slashed ink on her skin beneath the gold ring. This was the moment she'd been waiting for since she'd lost Tedros to Agatha two years ago. The moment to show her prince a love so deep, it had carved his name into her. And if she could only find a way to make him feel that love as deeply as she felt it . . . then maybe, just maybe, words could change a prince's heart after all.

“At first, I thought all a queen does is choose china and throw cotillions and kiss babies at parades,” Sophie began. “But when I was with Rafal, I saw the way the other students looked at me. I wasn't the old Sophie anymore, amusing and frivolous—I was the new Sophie, a girl who'd
made
something of myself. That's what made them resent me, I suppose . . . they didn't realize someone so young could be so extraordinary. It wasn't as if I was born special or enchanted like them. All I ever had was a pretty face and a hunger to have a
big
life. And yet, I spent so much time fretting about the scale of that life that I forgot to ask what it should mean. That's why I couldn't commit to Rafal in the end. He might offer me immortality, infinite power, eternal love . . . but it was Evil's love. And no matter how Evil he thinks I am, I still want to be Good, Tedros. Even if I have to war against my own soul until the day I die.”

Tedros' eyes moved to her.

“There are two queens,” she said, her voice stronger now. “There's the queen who doubts her crown. Choose her and you'll forever distrust each other, sparring and bickering, because in her heart of hearts, she doesn't want a queen's life.
Your father chose that queen and suffered until the end. Now you can go back to where his story went wrong and fix it. You can choose a queen who
wants
to be your queen. A queen who will fight for her people the way she fights to be with her king. The queen I couldn't be for Rafal, because I'm meant to be that queen for you.”

Tedros stopped, gazing at her so intensely it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.

Heart throbbing, Sophie held his eyes, the mist of their breaths coalescing.

“If they see a king and queen doubting each other, they'll lose faith in you,” she said. “But choose a new type of queen and they'll see how a king should be treated: with unconditional love, respect, and loyalty. No one will give you those things more than me, because unlike Agatha, I never doubted you.”

“Sophie . . . ,” he whispered, touching her waist.

Her body electrified, blood rushing to her head.

“Don't you see? I was your queen from the first moment we met,” she said, leaning in. “The old story between us was right, Tedros. All we have to do is make it new.” She closed her eyes, her lips reaching for—

“Sophie.”

Sophie's eyes shot open and saw Tedros, milk white, staring past her.

Two flesh-flaking, stitched-up zombies converged towards the path from opposite sides of the dark Woods. One was a stumpy, copper-nosed man with a bushy gray beard, a belly
bulging from his half-sized shirt, and a black pirate hat on his bald head. The other was dark and sleek, with an even bigger hat over his swell of black curls.

It was only when he stepped onto the lit path that Sophie saw his big steel hook.

“Here we are looking for Peter Pan and we find Evil's queen instead,” sneered Captain Hook. “Only I hear you've deserted your post, dear queen. Tell her, Smee, what we do to deserters on my ship.”

“Stick their head on the mast 'til the birds done their way with it,” Smee giggled, drawing a slim dagger from his breeches.

“And yet, despite your desertion, I'm afraid the School Master doesn't want you returned to him at all,” said Hook, eyeing Sophie carefully. “He insists his queen is free to do as she chooses.”

Sophie paled with surprise.

Hook turned to Tedros. “Said nothing about the boy, though.”

The two pirates stalked towards the prince.

Tedros drew Excalibur with one hand and grabbed Sophie with the other. “Stay close to me.”

Sophie gulped, watching the two men slinking towards them, blades shining in the path light.

Once upon a time, Tedros had been in mortal danger during a Trial as she stood by, too scared to fight. That was the exact moment her story had gone wrong. The moment she'd lost her prince to Agatha.
This is my chance
, thought Sophie—to
go back and fix her fairy tale, just like she was asking Tedros to fix his. Fight for her prince and she'd win her kiss at last.

Tedros gripped Sophie tighter, pulling her to his flank, as the two Evil pirates inched within striking distance. As Hook raised his weapon over the prince, Sophie focused on her fear, feeling her fingertip glow hotter, hotter . . .

Then she magically whisked one of Merlin's white-hot crumbs into Smee's eye.

Smee shrieked, dropping his dagger, and Sophie tackled him off the path into the Woods.

“Sophie!”
Tedros cried in horror—

Hook swung his blade at him and Tedros raised his sword just in time, steel clashing steel.

Sophie had never fought a full-grown man, so she wasn't prepared for Smee to tackle her back, pinning his fat, hairy belly against her as she kicked and scratched.

“Such a pretty girl,” Smee snarled, the giggly tone gone. “Never any pretty girls in Neverland.”

He sniffed her hair and Sophie slapped him so hard he gaped at her, clutching his cheek. For a moment, she thought she'd defused him, only to see him turn bloodred and seize her by the throat. His filthy nails dug into her larynx, as if she'd triggered something deep within him, a murderous rage consuming him.

“Not—supposed—to kill—me—” she gasped.

But Smee had forgotten or he didn't care and Sophie choked and sputtered, knowing she was going to die here, her prince only a few feet away. Out of the corner of her eye she
saw Hook trap Tedros with his boot, slashing at Tedros' cloak as the prince squirmed and yelled. Cheeks blue, Sophie looked up at Smee, as she wheezed her last breath—

A fire-tipped tree branch ripped right through Smee's head, igniting his skull with blue flames.

Eyes wide, the henchman let go of Sophie, his head combusting at the stitches, as he flopped back into darkness.

Stunned, Sophie looked up at Hook, who'd moved off Tedros as he watched Smee's body consumed by blue fire. Slowly the Captain looked down the path at a broad-shouldered, raven-haired stranger, brandishing a glowing blue fingertip.

“I-I-I know that boy,” said Hook, astonished. “That's Scourie's son. Born and raised on my very ship—”

But it was Hook's last words, for a sword ran him through and he dropped to his knees, mouth open in shock, before falling face-first on the trail.

Behind him, Tedros wiped his blade of zombie guts and rose gingerly, inspecting a patchwork of hook wounds in his right side, bleeding into his cloak. He breathed relief, as if none of them were mortal.

“I owe you my life, Hort,” said Tedros, looking up.

Hort stepped into the moonlight, teeth gnashed at him. “I saved
her
. Not you.”

Sophie saw the rage in Hort's face, the result of a full day alone with his festering feelings. Her eyes widened, suddenly understanding.

“But . . . but . . . you said you didn't love me anymore—” Sophie rasped.

Hort whirled to her. “I
lied
.”

Lost in a fog, Sophie didn't know what to say. But she knew one thing for sure. She couldn't make Hort travel by himself any longer. Not when he'd saved her life.

Her time alone with Tedros was over.

I had it! He would have kissed me!
she thought miserably. She glowered at Rafal's ring, undestroyed on her finger, feeling heavier than before.

Soon they'd resumed their journey, the three of them in a silent pack, for Sophie couldn't say anything to Tedros that Hort should hear, and Tedros and Hort had no desire to speak in the other's presence. And just when Sophie thought the tension could get no worse, she looked back distractedly at the horror show they'd left behind—

“Um . . . boys?” she croaked.

Prince and Weasel turned.

They looked past Sophie to see Smee's corpse in the distance, still burning off the path.

Hook's body was gone.

“But I stabbed him in the heart!” said Tedros, still defending himself the next afternoon.

“For the last time, zombies don't
have
hearts,” snapped Hort. “Why do you think I set Smee on fire? It's the only way to destroy them—”

“Why didn't you say something then?”

“'Cause I was hoping Hook would kill you!”

“Please tell me we're getting close to the safe house,” Sophie growled.

After losing Hook's body, they'd hurried along the trail like a spooked cabal, tracking Merlin's light crumbs to bubble-like caves that resembled the ones in the Blue Forest. There they'd camped until morning, each in their own den, with the two boys taking turns on lookout. By sunrise they were on the trail again, plowing through miles of the Frostplains' blue-iced tundra. Hiding under their cloaks, they braved relentless blizzards of snow and hail until at last they glimpsed something through the monotony of white.

It was a small, peninsular kingdom, built upon a bluff of rock, with pearl-white towers veiled by mist off stormy gray seas. The crash of waves echoed with violent booms, the entire kingdom shuddering down to giant iron doors, swinging open against the rock.

Crack! Crack!

Warily the three teenagers passed through the open doors, but there was no one there to greet them. Indeed, there seemed to be no one in the kingdom at all, only the magnificent white towers with no windows or entrances, arranged in a circle above a series of descending marble staircases. Squinting over the railing, they saw a vast lake at the bottom of the stairs, gray-watered and eerily still, leading into the tempestuous ocean.

“Did we hit a dead end?” Sophie asked.

Then she saw Tedros' face, blissful and calm.

“It's Avalon,” he said.

“You've been here before?” Hort asked.

Tedros shook his head. “My father drew pictures of it in his will,” he said softly, as he gazed down at the lake. “Said he wanted to be buried in ‘Avalon's safe house.' Merlin brought us to my father's resting place.”

“
This
is the safe house?” Sophie murmured as they went down a long staircase, trying to be sensitive to what Tedros was feeling. “It's just . . . it's freezing, the doors were wide open, and the towers had no way insi—”

She stopped at the sight of Agatha, sitting in dead grass at the edge of the lake, her back to them. To see Agatha by herself on the shore gave Sophie an unsettled feeling, as if the scene was incomplete . . . as if Agatha shouldn't be ending her story all alone.

Agatha turned at their footsteps. She smiled serenely, as if relieved her best friends were safe after the long journey.

Sophie's heart relaxed and she sidled closer to the prince. There was no reason to be unsettled. Agatha could be happy alone in a way that she never could.

“There you two are,” yawned a voice and Sophie turned to see Merlin lumbering up from a nap against a rock. “Took you long enough. Oh and look, our bodyguard too,” he said as Hort came off the stairs.

“The safe house is in those waters, isn't it,” asked Tedros, stepping to the edge of the shore. “That's where my father is buried.”

He tossed a pebble into the water and watched it sink.

Sophie frowned. “How can a safe house be in a—”

But now the waters were silently churning into a whirlpool where Tedros' pebble had sunk, mirroring the circle of towers above. The waters spun faster, faster, like a spinning wheel at work . . . so fast that a creamy white foam spewed from the pool's eye, building, thickening into a human shape . . .

A ghostly, silver-haired nymph in white robes floated out of the waters and into the sky, raising her head to her guests. She had chalk-white skin, a long nose, and big black eyes that fixed on Tedros, before her crimson lips curled into a smile.

“Never made another one quite like it,” she said.

For a moment Tedros thought she was talking about him, only to realize she was looking at his sword.

“Excalibur . . . you made it . . . you're the Lady of the Lake!”

The nymph smiled, turning to Merlin. “Hello, handsome. It's been a while,” she cooed in a low, husky voice. “Let me guess. You
need
something.”