A Crystal of Time by Soman Chainani

Author:Soman Chainani
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-01-19T05:00:00+00:00

16

PROFESSOR DOVEY

What Makes Your Heart Beat?

I know where Merlin is.

He meant for me to find that clump of hair he sent with Anadil’s rat. He knew I’d understand.

But what I know will come to nothing unless I tell someone.

Someone who can find Merlin if Tedros and I die. Someone out of Rhian’s clutches.

I must tell them before the axe falls. But who? And how?

As soon as we’re shoved out of King’s Cove, these moldy sacks jammed over our heads, all I’m left with is my sense of smell and sound. I feel myself kicked up a staircase, my limbs knocking against the other captives. I recognize Tedros’ solid arms and clasp his sweating hand before we’re pulled apart. Bogden hushes Willam’s whimpers; Valentina’s and Aja’s high-heeled boots clatter out of rhythm; Nicola’s breaths start and stop, a sign that she’s deep in thought. Soon my gown scrapes smooth marble walls, beetle wings rustling as they fall, and my knees buckle as I lurch onto a landing, my body drained from all it has endured. A minty breeze blows in, along with the scent of hyacinths. We must be passing the veranda in the Blue Tower, over the garden where the hyacinths grow. Yes, I hear the songbirds now, the ones outside the queen’s bedroom, where Agatha let me rest when I came to Camelot.

But these senses aren’t all I have to guide me.

There is a sixth sense that only fairy godmothers have.

A sense that churns my blood and makes my palms tingle.

A sense that a story is barreling towards an end that isn’t meant to be, and the only thing that can steer the story right is a fairy godmother’s intervention.

It is this sense that made me help Cinderella the night of the ball. It’s this sense that made me force Agatha to look in the mirror her first year, when she’d given up on her Ever After. It’s this sense that made me come to Camelot before the Snake’s attack. My fellow teachers surely consider the last a mistake: a violation of the Storian’s rules, beyond a fairy godmother’s work. But I’d do it again. The King of Camelot will not die on my watch. Not just because he’s king, but because he is, and will always be, my student.

Too many of my young wards have lost their lives: Chaddick, Tristan, Millicent . . .

No more.

And yet, what’s my move now? I know there is one. I can feel my sixth sense burn even hotter. That familiar sting of hope and fear, telling me I can fix this fairy tale.

The fairy godmother’s call.

There is a way out of this.

I wait for the answer, my nerves shredding. . . .

Nothing comes.

Tedros grunts near me as he jostles in frustration against his guards. He’s realizing we’ve been beaten and there’s nothing standing between him and the axe.

The breeze gusts harder from multiple sides, the smell of morning dew thickening, and for a moment I think we’re outside the castle, death ever-near, only to realize there’s still marble beneath my feet.

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