That’s where I’m storin’ all me farts!
“No wonder the School Master didn’t take them for Evil,” said Agatha. “Pirates in storybooks are bold and clever. These are just horrible.”
“Wonder if Hort feels the same way,” said Nicola.
“Hort, Hort, Hort. Is that all you talk about?” Sophie moaned.
“Hort’s father was a pirate, which means Hort grew up around pirates,” said Nicola. “He might very well know these boys.”
“Good point,” said Agatha.
Sophie muttered something under her breath.
Agatha wished she could talk to Hort, but he was at the front of the chain, sweaty and shirtless after reverting from a man-wolf (the pirates had thankfully let him put on breeches). The witches were with him too, whispering to each other and giving Agatha nervous looks.
Agatha’s stomach sank. Had she really thought this through? Or had she unwittingly put her crew in danger like she had in Avalon? While sailing from there, they’d all been so busy preparing for the battle against the pirates that Agatha had never prepared for what would happen if they were captured (the pirates had even chained up Hester’s demon). Nor had she or Sophie revealed to the witches what the Lady of the Lake had said. Agatha herself had barely processed what Sophie told her. . . .
Arthur’s blood? How could the Snake have Arthur’s blood? Was there another relative they didn’t know about? Or did “Arthur’s blood” mean something else? She needed to talk to Professor Dovey about it, but because of that cruddy crystal ball, Dovey wouldn’t check in with them until tomorrow— Wait. Wouldn’t the Storian have written about it? They were in a fairy tale, after all, where the pen recorded every key moment. Dovey was on watch in the School Master’s tower. . . . She would have seen the scene unfold between Sophie and the Lady of the Lake . . . which meant Dovey surely knew what the Lady had said to Sophie before she vanished. And if Dovey knew, so would Merlin . . . perhaps even Tedros by now. . . .
Agatha tensed up. Did Tedros know, then, that his best friend was dead? Did he know that his princess was hunting the killer? All her efforts to insulate him from worry suddenly seemed foolish.
And yet, beneath it all, Agatha also felt an odd relief. If anyone could make sense of what the Lady of the Lake had said, it’d be Dovey and Arthur’s own family. She’d leave the mystery in the Dean’s hands for now, then. She had to. Because every part of her had to focus on how she and her crew could meet a murderous villain and still come out alive— “Aggie, look,” Sophie said, pointing to the royal castle ahead, with two pink-and-gold towers now flying black crossbones flags. It’s where the pirates were leading them.
“Izzat the ‘princess of Camelot’? I’ve seen prettier mole rats,” a handsome young pirate heckled as the prisoners crossed into the pavilion.
“Don’t care if they look like a horse’s arse as long as I git me gold,” a shaved-headed one said. “Tally those bounties, divide by us, and what’s that make?”
“A whole lotta beef,” said a fat pirate, firing up the barbecue to a resounding cheer.
“Blimey. A couple fine ones in there, innit?” grunted a swarthy one, swinging his arm around Nicola.
“And lookie here! The new Dean of Evil!” a runty one hooted, grabbing at Sophie. “Saw her portrait in my sis’s school handbook! Wonder if she’ll let me in for a kiss. . . .”
Agatha could see Sophie’s finger glowing so pink it was starting to melt the gold vial on her necklace. But even with her cheeks hot with humiliation, Sophie knew full well they shouldn’t fight these thugs. They’d be face-to-face with the Snake soon. . . .
“Hi-ho! Fair maidens! Sing us a shanty!” the fat pirate yelled.
“Shanty! Shanty!” the boys demanded.
“We need a plan for the Snake,” Agatha whispered to Sophie.
“I have an idea,” Nicola said, eavesdropping.
“We don’t need anything from you, first year,” Sophie grouched.
“A first year who’s saved your life twice,” said Nicola.
“Luck,” Sophie poohed.
“I’ll take any luck we can get,” Agatha trumped to Nicola. “What do you have in mind?”
A spray of gold coins flew over their heads.
“Sing us a shanty!” the fat boy badgered, flinging more gold at them.
“Snake wears a mask, right?” said Nicola, ducking the coins. “He’s not going to want to reveal his identity.”
“Aren’t you glad she’s here, Aggie? So helpful,” Sophie sniped.
“But that’s how we find out who he is,” said Nicola, looking squarely at her. “Sophie, we need you to—”
Someone yanked the line to a stop and the three girls crashed into Willam, who was right in front of them. Sunburnt Wesley glowered down from the horse, his sword blade hooked through the chain. “When a pirate gives ye an order, ye best obey it. Don’t think the Snake would flinch if we delivered yer lot without noses.” He tapped Sophie’s and Nicola’s noses with his sword. “Which means we ain’t movin’ another inch until these two lassies pucker up and sing.”
Sophie and Nicola swallowed.
So did Agatha, Hester, Anadil, Dot, Hort, Bogden, and Willam, finally all able to look at each other again. This wasn’t like the battle on the boat; here they were outnumbered by pirates twenty to one, they couldn’t direct their fingerglows with their hands cuffed behind their backs (Anadil’s rats included), and their best weapon, Hester’s demon, was wrapped in chains, uselessly trapped on her neck. Meaning the future of the crew’s noses depended on the song that was about to come out of the two girls’ mouths.
“I’ll start,” Sophie announced—
“No, I will,” Nicola cut in. She eyed Agatha intently and sang in a clear voice: “There once was a boy named Ito
Whose tale was in my storybook.
He had a face of perfect beauty
And all day in mirrors he looked.
But Ito loved his face so much He didn’t want others to enjoy
So he put on a mask
And pretended to be coy
He wore the mask for days and years
Until he fell for a lovely girl
Who confided to a friend,
‘He must be ugly and hiding from the world.’
So Ito finally removed his mask
To prove her wrong and be bold
Only to find that in time
His face had grown very old.”
Agatha lit up with understanding. Looking miffed, Sophie glared at Nicola, then opened her mouth to sing, but Agatha jumped in and sang back to Nicola in a husky, barbarous croak: “I know a boy like Ito
Who wears a mask of green
We need a pretty girl to tempt his pride
And make him want to be seen.
A girl like a prize or a trophy,
A girl whose name is . . .”
Agatha and Nicola turned and stared at Sophie.
Sophie blinked back at them, baffled.
Silence hung over the pavilion.
“THAT AIN’T A SHANTY!” a pirate cried.
“Boo!” the others shouted.
Beef bits and fistfuls of coins spewed violently in their direction. Someone threw a parrot and hit Hort in the groin— “Poke out their eyes!” one ordered.