“Tedros, no!” Agatha said, seizing his arm.
He pushed her away, glowering at the Snake. “You and me.”
The Snake stepped forward, torchlight casting shadows on his rippled torso.
“You and me,” said the Snake.
“Witches, mark it,” Tedros ordered.
Anadil’s rats sprinted around the two boys, dripping oil. Hester’s demon set the ring aflame.
“He doesn’t fight fair—” Agatha insisted to Tedros.
Tedros didn’t listen.
“On your signal,” he said to the Snake.
“Younger brother first,” the Snake cooed.
Tedros gnashed his teeth. “Now.”
They launched at each other like gorillas, chests slamming, before Tedros gripped the Snake by the neck and bashed him face-first to the ground inside the ring of fire. The king punched him in the head, Tedros’ fist crunching loudly against the Snake’s green scales, connecting with the flesh beneath it. The Snake struggled onto his side, then stabbed out his leg, hitting Tedros’ sternum and knocking him backwards, dangerously close to the flaming ring.
Agatha clasped Rhian’s arm. “You have to help him—”
Rhian didn’t move. “I made a promise,” he said. “This is his fight.”
The Snake lunged forward and clobbered the king, clawing at Tedros’ face, opening up bloody scratches. Tedros swung his arm around his opponent’s throat, driving him into the ground, before the Snake thrust his hips and kneed Tedros in the gut, taking the king down.
Agatha watched in horror as Tedros weathered blows from the deadly villain, while her friends looked on anxiously from outside the ring. Together, they could destroy the Snake. They outnumbered him ten to one! It didn’t matter what Tedros wanted. Not when he might die.
She lurched towards the ring, about to bound over the low flames—
Rhian snagged her back.
“His fight,” he said.
The two were on top of each other now, wrestling for dominance, Tedros hammering at the Snake’s chest as the Snake lay flat on him, squeezing the king’s throat. The Snake strangled Tedros harder and the king started to choke, his punches weakening. The Snake took advantage, slamming Tedros in the face with his fist, swelling the king’s eye and opening up a spigot of blood. Tedros writhed, struggling to free himself from the Snake’s deathgrip— “No!” Agatha cried, trying to break from Rhian’s grasp— The king turned blue, wheezing for his last breaths. . . .
Tedros shoved his palm onto the Snake’s face and with a stifled cry, he muscled the green-mask backwards, the king grunting desperately, about to pass out, until at last Tedros managed just enough space between their bodies. . . .
He jammed his boot against the Snake’s ribs and crushed him as hard as he could.
The Snake toppled backwards and fell close to the flames—
In a flash, Tedros was on him, gasping for breath, punching the Snake again and again.
“That’s for Chaddick,” he said, belting him.
“That’s for Lancelot,” he said, walloping him harder.
“That’s for Lady Gremlaine.”
“That’s for the Lady of the Lake.”
Blood seeped through the scales of the Snake’s mask, his body listless.
“That’s for me,” said Tedros, delivering the hardest punch of all.
He stopped to take a breath—
The Snake kicked him in the chest, sending Tedros flying out of the ring, his bare back grazing the flames and searing red.
Tedros landed in dirt, bloodied, bruised, and burned.
Agatha rushed to his side.
“Tedros—”
He was still breathing.
Slowly he lifted his muddy head and looked past his princess to the Snake in the ring. The green-masked villain hadn’t moved, still flat on his back, surrounded in a pool of blood.
Agatha remembered Chaddick posed the same way in a painting. The first page of a fairy tale that was now about to end.
“Come and kill me, little boy,” the Snake rasped. “Come and kill your brother.”
Tedros staggered up, but his legs buckled and he fell back. He tried again—
Agatha stopped him.
“Let . . . me go . . . Agatha,” he panted, blood streaming.
“He’ll kill you!” said his princess.
Tedros struggled against her, but she held him down. “This is . . . my . . . quest,” he snarled. “Let me . . . finish it.”
“Stay down. You’re losing too much blood,” Agatha said—
She saw the Snake’s body shift, starting to rise once more.
Agatha locked eyes with Tedros’ knight.
“Rhian,” she said firmly.
The knight didn’t move.
“I have to kill him,” said Tedros, pushing against his princess.
Agatha held him down, her gaze on the knight.
Still Rhian didn’t budge.
“This isn’t a choice, Rhian. I’m ordering you,” said Agatha sharply. “I’m ordering you as your queen.”
This time Rhian blinked.
“As you wish, milady,” the knight said.
Tedros glanced between them, suddenly understanding.
“No! I’m the king. . . . He’s mine. . . .” Tedros fought—
But Rhian was already walking into the ring.
The copper-haired boy slammed the Snake back down to the ground and put his foot on the Snake’s pallid chest.
“By order of the queen, I sentence you to die,” said Rhian.
The Snake quivered under his boot—
Rhian bent over, took the Snake’s head in both hands, and wrenched it hard, snapping his neck.
The Snake jerked one final time . . . then went still.
Fires cooled around the ring. Smoke blew across the Snake’s dead body.
Tedros slumped limply in Agatha’s arms.
Dazed soldiers converged on the courtyard littered with wounded bodies and scims. The allied leaders emerged from the gatehouse, along with Guinevere, to see the king and knight still alive and the Snake dead.
The depleted army unleashed a cry of victory. Over their heads, Willam and Bogden rang the bell in the Blue Tower, which echoed down to the city, where bells tolled in response and a cheer resounded, signaling that the people of Camelot knew the Snake had been killed.
Here in the field, the cheers fell away as everyone realized Tedros was still on the ground. Together they circled the wounded king.
Rhian kneeled beside Agatha, helping her hold Tedros’ body.
But the king’s eyes stayed on his princess.
“He was mine. . . . He was mine . . . ,” Tedros breathed, again and again.
Agatha touched his face. “You’re still alive, Tedros. That’s what matters. It could have been a trick.” She held him closer. “I was protecting you.”
Tedros resisted. “But you didn’t protect me. You held me back. You always hold me back,” he said, looking right at her. “You don’t have faith in me, Agatha. You stop me from being a king. Don’t you see?”
He blinked through blood and tears.
“The only trick is you.”
The words hit Agatha like a stone. Her hands let go of him, ceding his body to the knight.
That is where the princess and the king ended.
Because the people of Camelot were already flooding through the gates, expecting a celebration.