He forced himself to think of other things, like why they were heading to the Four Point . . . or how that piece of chain had turned into a flying eel . . . or where Beatrix’s quest team was. . . .
But Sophie’s wail still echoed in his head.
Is the Snake torturing her?
Will I ever see her again?
Is she . . . dead?
He whirled around, but the castle was obscured by colorful groves, which seemed to have sprouted up around him. He squinted over lilac hedges—
“Would she rescue you?” Dot asked, staring at him again.
Hort frowned. “Um, I don’t think that matters—”
“Would Nicola rescue you?” Dot asked.
Hort blinked.
“It does matter, then,” said Dot, archly.
She turned back around.
Hort’s eyes widened as a tree sprinkled white petals on his hair like wedding rice. It’s that simple, isn’t it? If he stopped being an idiot, he could have a girlfriend right now. A real girlfriend kinder than Sophie and more attentive and definitely less psycho . . . a girlfriend he could take to Halloween haunts and go swimming in the school pool with and dance with at No-Balls and collect fresh beetles to lay on his dad’s grave every Sunday . . .
“Wait, the Four Point is Camelot’s land,” he whispered to Dot suddenly. “Isn’t that what the beaver said? There’s a chapter about it in A Student’s History of the Woods too. . . . It’s a memorial to King Arthur. No one is allowed there, Good or Evil. . . .”
“Didn’t learn much in history, to be honest,” Dot whispered back. “First Sader dies teaching it and then his sister takes over and teaches us the wrong history and then she dies and then the School Master takes over and then he dies and now you’re teaching history, which means you’ll probably die soon, especially since the Storian didn’t include you on our quest to begin with.” Dot pursed her lips. “Goodness. I really shouldn’t think out loud.”
“Forget all that,” Hort said, frowning. “If no one’s allowed on Camelot’s land, why are they taking us there?”
“Because then Camelot’s king will have to rescue us,” Hester cut in, glaring back at them. “A king whose sword is stuck in a stone.”
“Tedros without his sword . . . ,” said Dot. “Doesn’t inspire confidence, does it?”
“We need to escape now,” Hester demanded. “And by ‘we,’ I mean the whole crew, Agatha, Sophie, and Beatrix’s team included. Questers stick together at all costs.”
“Can’t you turn into a man-wolf and bust us out of here?” Anadil said, swiveling to Hort.
“I can’t wolfify with my hands like this; I need to point my glow at my chest,” said Hort. “What about your rats?”
“Thugs got them too,” Anadil moped.
Hort peered over her shoulder to see her three pets trapped in a chain link, heads squeezed through the loop and tiny feet dangling, like a rat version of an iron maiden.
Meanwhile, Hester’s demon jangled its chains as if to preempt the question.
“So we got nothing,” said Hort.
“Except the word ‘wolfify,’” Dot wisped, eyeing his sweaty chest. “So sensual.”
Hort was stonefaced.
“We need to talk to Nicola,” Dot added, clearing her throat. “She saved our life twice. Maybe she can do it again.”
Everyone looked at Hester for approval, Anadil included.
Hester grimaced. “Fine.”
They glanced back at Nicola, concealed behind Willam and Bogden, who were still twittering. From what Hort could see of her, Nicola was gazing off glassily into the gardens.
“How can I talk to her from here?” Hort asked Dot.
“Send a message through us,” a voice said.
Hort turned to see Willam eavesdropping.
“We’ve been trying to come up with our own plan to help us all escape,” said Willam, red hair glinting in the sun. “I can’t do magic and neither can Bogden because he says he doesn’t have a fingerglow yet. But we figured out we’re both good at fortune telling. Oh, and playing bongos.”
“Helpful. Ask Nicola what we should do, then,” said Hort.
Willam whispered to Bogden, who whispered to Nicola.
Nicola suddenly looked alert, meeting Hort’s eyes for a half-second, before she whispered to Bogden, who whispered to Willam, who swiveled to Hort—
“She says this is like the story Uncle Miyazaki. If we can’t bust off the chain, we all have to work as one unit. Like a snake, with Hester at the head and Nicola at the tail. That is, if Hort still remembers who Nicola is. She told me I had to say that verbatim and make sure everyone heard.”
Hester, Dot, Anadil, Willam, and Bogden glowered at Hort.
“Well, tell her that if we get out of this alive, I’ll take her on a date to Dumpy’s Dumpling House,” Hort promised.
Willam whispered to Bogden, who whispered to Nicola, who sent her reply up the chain—
“She says Sophie can’t come on the date and that it can’t be at a place called Dumpy’s,” said Willam.
“Beauty and the Feast in Sherwood Forest is exquisite,” Dot offered. “Robin Hood took me there once. I didn’t tell Daddy.”
Hort gave her a strange look before turning to Willam. “Tell her she has a deal. First date. Somewhere romantic. Just me and her,” he said, smiling, which Willam was about to pass down the chain, but Nicola had gleaned the message because she was smiling too.
“Glad you have your love life sorted since we’re about to die,” Hester snarled. “How are we supposed to work like one unit when there’s seven of us on this chain, including two first years and an altar boy—”
But the pirates were watching now, clearly listening, and Hester went mum.
Thiago gave Hort another knife-sharp look before murmuring to Wesley.
Ornate gates lay ahead, made of blue-and-white porcelain, marking the end of royal property. Though the gates were unlatched with plenty of room to pass through, Wesley kicked them ajar with his silver-tipped boot, shattering the bottom of a gate. Doves scattered from the trees above.
Dad was a pirate and never acted like these goons, Hort thought. That’s because he and his dad had gone to school, where they’d learned that even though Good and Evil were eternal enemies, the two sides were in balance. The two sides had respect.
Except the Snake and his minions had no respect for Good or Evil. They attacked both sides the same.
A troubling thought dawned on Hort. If the Snake didn’t have respect for either side, what did he have respect for? And what would happen if he gained control of Camelot? You’d have a king of the most powerful realm in the land of Good and Evil who spat in the face of both.
What would happen to the Storian? he thought, chest pounding. What would happen to the Woods?
The broken gate creaked behind him, reminding him of Sophie’s scream. Goose bumps peppered his skin. For all they knew, Sophie and Agatha were dead by now. . . .
Sooty clouds seeped into the sky, veiling the sun, and a damp cool wind snaked into the garden with a soggy, moldy smell. Hort could see the path widening ahead, the trees and clover growing sparser around it.
He heard something now, drifting in on the wind. A dark rumble, like an elephant shaking the earth.
“What is that?” Hort whispered.