EXCALIBUR
He was still thinking about that large, empty case when he arrived at King’s Cove, a sunken bathing pool in the bowels of the castle. When he was a young prince, this manmade grotto had flowering vines around tall piles of rock and a steaming-hot waterfall. The balmy water once shimmered with a thousand purple and pink lights from fairies who tended the pool in exchange for safe shelter at Camelot. Tedros remembered his mornings here as a child, racing the fairies around his father’s statue at the center of the pool, his tiny opponents lighting up the water like fireworks.
King’s Cove was different now. The pool was dark and cold, the water algae-green. The plants were dead, the waterfall a drip, drip, drip. The fairies were gone too, banished from the castle by Arthur after Guinevere and Merlin had both abandoned him, destroying Arthur’s faith in magic.
Tedros looked down at the kettlebells he’d stolen from the gym and stashed by the pool, along with a sad, lowly rope he’d tied to the ceiling to practice climbing.
He couldn’t exercise in that other room. Not if he had to be near that empty case and think about where the sword was now.
Slowly, his eyes rose to his father’s statue in the murky pool, caked with moss and dirt—King Arthur, Excalibur in hand, staring down at him.
Only he wasn’t staring. At least not anymore. His eyes were gone, violently gouged out, leaving two big black holes.
Tedros endured a wave of guilt, more intense than the one he’d felt in the gym.
He’d done it.
He’d carved out his own father’s eyes.
Because he couldn’t bear the old king looking at him after what happened at the coronation.
I’ll fix it, Father, he vowed. I’ll fix everything.
Tedros tossed his towel onto the mildewed floor and dove into the pool, thoughts wiped out by the harsh, stabbing cold.
Six months before, the day of the coronation had been brilliant and warm.
Tedros was utterly spent after everything that had happened leading up to it—reconciling with his mother, fighting a war against an Evil School Master, and making an all-night ride from school to Camelot in time for him to be crowned king the next day.
And yet, despite feeling like a sore, sleepless zombie, he couldn’t stop smiling. After so many false starts and twists and turns, he’d finally found his Ever After. He was the ruler of the most legendary kingdom in the Woods. He’d have Agatha by his side forever. His mother (and Lancelot) would live with them in the castle. For the first time since he was a child, he had a full family again—and soon a queen to share it with.
Any one of those would be a wonderful enough gift on this, his sixteenth birthday. But the best present of all? Sophie, his old friend-enemy-princess-witch, had been appointed Dean at the School for Evil far far away, where she’d remain at a safe distance from him and Agatha. Which meant no more Sophie thuggery, no more Sophie skullduggery for the rest of their lives. (He’d learned from experience that he and that girl couldn’t be in the same place without killing each other, kissing each other, or a lot of people ending up dead.)
“Hmm, can’t Merlin do a spell to make this smell better?” Tedros said in front of his bedroom mirror, sniffing at his father’s old robes. “This thing is rancid.”
“Whole castle is rancid,” groused Lancelot, gnawing on a slab of dried beef. “And I haven’t seen Merlin since he hopped out of the carriage in Maidenvale. Said he’d meet us at the castle. Should be here by now.”
“Merlin runs on his own time,” Guinevere sighed, sitting next to Lancelot on her son’s bed.
“He’ll be here soon. Can’t possibly miss my coronation,” Tedros said, holding his nose. “Maybe if we spritz this with a little cologne—”
“It’s a coronation gown, Teddy. You only have to wear it once,” said his mother. “Besides, I don’t smell anything except whatever it is Lance raided from the pantry.”
“Oh be serious, Gwen,” Lancelot growled, smacking at the bedsheets and spawning a dust storm. “What happened to this place?”
“Don’t worry. Agatha and I will fix everything,” Tedros declared, combing his hair. “We knew what we were coming back to. Dad’s advisors let the castle go to waste and lined their pockets with the kingdom’s taxes. Would’ve loved to have seen their faces when Lance threw them in the dungeons.”
“Oddly calm, to be honest. As if they expected it—or at least knew better than to fight,” Lance said, with a loud belch. “Insisted I don’t have the authority to jail them until Tedros is king. Told them to sod off.”
“They’re right,” Guinevere clipped. “And if you can’t eat like a proper human, I’ll have the kitchen put you on a vegetable diet.”
Tedros and Lancelot gaped at her.
“They’re right?” Tedros asked incredulously.
“Vegetables?” Lancelot blurted, mouth full.
“Until your coronation as king is official, the Council of Advisors appointed by Arthur has full authority to decide who runs Camelot,” Guinevere explained. “But in a few hours you will be king and it’s not like there’s a rival with a claim to the throne they can summon out of thin air. That’s why the guards didn’t stop Lance from jailing them.”
Reassured, Tedros went back to assessing his reflection.
“Darling, enough with the mirror. You look beautiful,” his mother said. “Meanwhile, poor Agatha is getting ready by herself and surely needs a lady’s help. Why don’t I go to her and leave you here with Lan—”
“Agatha’s fine,” Tedros said, picking at an annoying pimple near his mouth. God, I’m almost as bad as Sophie, he thought. But he was about to have an entire kingdom judging him. Who wouldn’t be self-conscious? “Besides, it’s my birthday,” he added, “and I want to spend time with my mother.”
He saw his mother blush, still unused to him being nice to her.
“Sounds more like Little King’s afraid of being alone with me,” Lancelot cracked.
“Call me ‘little’ again and I’ll run you through,” Tedros flared, tapping Excalibur on his waist. “No one on earth would choose to be alone with you anyway.”
“Except your mother. Likes our alone time just fine,” said Lancelot tartly.
“Oh good lord,” Guinevere mumbled.
“In any case, Agatha has that strange steward woman helping her get ready, the one who greeted us when we arrived last night and reeks of perfume,” said Tedros, checking his teeth. “Wanted to help me get ready but I said I had you two. Didn’t seem happy about it.”
“What’s the story there, Gwen? Looked about as thrilled to see you as you did her,” said Lancelot.
“There is no story. She was my steward until after Tedros was born. I had her dismissed. Now she’s back,” Guinevere said curtly.
“Well, clearly something happened between you two—”
“Nothing happened.”
“Then why are you making the same face about her as you made around Millie?”
“Who’s Millie?” Tedros asked.
“A horny goat that used to chase your mother around the farm,” Lancelot said.