Golden hair, a body of muscle, a glinting sword sheathed . . .
The sky went dark, and he was gone.
Agatha felt faint. All the attacks . . . all the destruction . . .
“Him,” Sophie whispered, crumpling against the wall. “You wished for . . . him.”
Agatha searched for something to say, but one look at Sophie, curled up in a grubby pink heap, and she knew. There was nothing to say.
“How?” Agatha whispered. “How could he hear it?”
“Because you wanted him to,” Lady Lesso slashed, prowling towards Agatha. “From the day you left, Tedros believed one day you’d call for him. From the day you left, he and his men hunted your village, trying to cross into Woods Beyond—until your wish finally opened the gates.”
Agatha paled, watching Lady Lesso circle her. “But your prince has to make sure his princess chooses correctly this time. He needs insurance you won’t repeat your mistakes. So Tedros stole the Storian from under our noses, knowing the School Master’s tower follows it wherever it goes. Now he’ll stop the pen from writing ‘The End’ to your story—until he has his new ending.”
Agatha’s stomach went cold. “What’s the new ending?” she rasped.
Lady Lesso stared through her. “Killing Sophie.”
Sophie slowly lifted her eyes, red and raw.
“Tedros believes killing Sophie will fix your fairy tale as it should have been,” said Professor Dovey. “The witch dies. The princess free to her prince. Your ending rewritten, just like Agatha wished.”
Agatha couldn’t breathe under Sophie’s scorching stare.
“Why don’t you save Tedros the trouble?” Sophie hissed. “Kill this witch yourself.”
“That would solve everything,” sighed Professor Dovey.
Both girls turned.
“Oh dear,” said their teacher. “Did I say that out loud?”
“She’ll die soon enough,” Lady Lesso snarled. “Tedros counted on Sophie coming here for protection. Now he and his army will come to kill her.”
“Army?” Agatha blanched. “He has an army?”
“You’ve forgotten about his school,” said Lady Lesso.
Agatha swung her head to the window. Through the sheets of rain, she could see the red hoods skulking around Evil’s towers, in black leather uniforms crested with scarlet snakes and shiny black boots. Slowly she lowered her eyes to the gate on the castle shores, rusted iron words arched over it:
THE SCHOOL FOR BOY
VENGEANCE AND RESTITUTION
“One wish has so many consequences, doesn’t it?” Lady Lesso said, leering at Agatha. “Tedros has promised whoever kills Sophie half his father’s treasure as a reward. Needless to say, both the Ever and Never boys took up the challenge.”
“As did all those princes outside,” Professor Dovey said, watching the filthy masses swarming the gates. “Tedros knows he can’t attack us with just his school. Our teachers wouldn’t give up Sophie without a fight.”
“So he’s using the princes to force our hand,” Lady Lesso groused. “I cast a shield around the perimeter of both schools to keep them out. But if the princes get through, Tedros will have enough men to storm our castle and kill Sophie.”
Agatha stared out at the red fortress, still numb. “The Storian’s in a boys’ school?”
“Either free it and get Sophie home alive . . . or kiss Tedros before he kills her.” Professor Dovey met Agatha’s shocked eyes. “Kiss your prince and mean it, and you’ll stay here with him Ever After. Sophie will be gone from your story forever . . . and vanish home alone.”
“Home alone?” Sophie gasped as if she’d been shot. “Gavaldon alone? While she gets . . . him?”
“These are the only two endings that can prevent war,” Professor Dovey said.
The only sound in the room was the echo of murderous princes.
Sophie gave Agatha a horrible look and curled back into her ball.
Tedros, Agatha gritted. How could she wish for a boy who’d take love this far? How could she wish for a boy who’d kill her best friend? Her old witchy self would never have let this happen.
“Third option,” she said, storming to the door. “Tell Tedros he’s a delusional ass.”
“No.”
Agatha turned.
“You wished for him,” Sophie spat, blotched with rage. “And you want me to trust you two alone?”
Agatha stepped back. Sophie looked even more a witch than she did in the graveyard.
“I won’t intervene in your lovers’ quarrel, but I suggest Agatha make her choice soon,” Lady Lesso snapped. “Once Tedros breaks the princes through my shield, all our lives will be in danger.”
“We’ll hide you and Sophie in the Blue Forest until you have a plan,” Professor Dovey said to Agatha, pulling a ring of keys. “None of the girls can know you’ve come.”
Agatha looked up, dazed. “Why not?”
“Because unlike your two teachers, they think this is the best thing that’s ever happened,” said a honey-smooth voice.
The two professors and two girls turned to see a tall, ravishing woman push through the door, milky smooth and full-bosomed in a teacher’s electric-blue dress decorated with a pattern of butterflies. She had a waterfall of chestnut hair to her midback, forest-green eyes under thick dark brows, a luscious pink mouth, and a gap between her two shiny front teeth.
“My brother’s office?” she said, biting her bee-stung lips. “I wasn’t aware it was where we held secret meetings.”
“It’s the only place we can’t be overheard,” Lady Lesso returned, her voice oddly tentative.
“Well I do believe I should have been alerted to our honored guests,” the woman said breathily, turning to Sophie and Agatha. “After all, they are the reason this magnificent school exists.”
The two girls gawped at her.
“We’ve been meticulously preparing for your arrival,” said the stranger, knitting her arched brows. “And we nearly may have missed it.” She flashed a look at the two teachers.
Agatha shook her head. “But how did you know we were com—”
“Goodness, you two look frightful,” the woman said, magically restoring their faces and dresses with her finger. Only Sophie’s dress magically lost its pink color too and drained blank white.
Sophie grabbed her hem. “What happened to my—”
“Come, girls.” The woman sashayed for the door. “We’ve put your books and schedules in your room.”
“Schedules!” Professor Dovey launched to her feet. “You’re not thinking of them going to class, Evelyn!”
The woman twirled. “As long as they are at my school, they will attend class and abide by the rules. Which includes staying in their school at all times. Surely you don’t object to the rules?”
Sophie and Agatha waited for the professors to indeed object, but Dovey and Lesso were curiously quiet, eyes on a pair of blue butterflies that had settled on the tips of their noses.
“I see our former deans neglected to inform you about the most important change at your new school,” the stranger said, smiling at the two girls. “Evelyn Sader. Dean of the School for Girls. Sorry for the hurry. I don’t want to keep everyone waiting. Follow me, please.”
As she turned and swept through the door, Sophie saw the two butterflies land on her matching dress and vanish magically into its pattern. She let out a breath of surprise. “Keep who waiting?”
As more butterflies fell into her dress, the beautiful woman didn’t look back.
“Your army,” she said, as if she’d just listened to their entire conversation.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
6
Her Name Is Yara
“An army dedicated to producing stories just like yours,” said Dean Sader, clacking through the sun-washed breezeway from Valor to Honor in her blue-gla
ss heels. “Your tale was just a taste of what princesses and witches can do together. Here you will lead an entire school!”
“A school—” Agatha choked, chasing her down the Honor stairs. “We need to go home!”
“You see, the former deans and I have a difference of opinion,” said Dean Sader as butterflies flew in from every direction and vanished into her dress. “They think you must leave our world to find your happy ending together. And I think you must stay.”
“But the boys are going to kill me!” Sophie said, bumping Agatha hard as she passed—
“Mmmm, let’s say you do break into a castle full of bloodthirsty males,” the Dean said, sweeping her buxom behind through the foyer. “Let’s say you free the Storian against all odds.” She stopped outside the frosted doors of the Gallery of Good. “The wish won’t work unless you mean it.”
She gazed at Sophie. “How can you wish for Agatha if you know she wants her prince?”
The Dean turned to Agatha. “How can you wish for Sophie if you fear the witch inside?”
She leaned in so close the girls could smell her flawless honeycream skin.
“How can you wish for someone you do not trust?”
Sophie and Agatha’s eyes met dartingly, hoping the other would argue. Neither did.
“Your friendship must be fixed before you can go home. And here you will fix what is broken,” Dean Sader said, a last butterfly fluttering into her dress. “Fairy tales have trained us to believe a beautiful bond like yours cannot last. Why? Because a man must come between you. A man so threatened by your story that he’s willing to kill to destroy it. But at my school, we teach you the truth.” She opened the door to pitch darkness.
“That a woman without a man is the greatest happy ending of all.”
Her finger magically lit a torch, and the flame roared red to a burst of drums. The two girls leapt back—
Twenty rows of girls stood frozen, heads bowed, each wearing a white veil, royal-blue harem pants, and a light blue bodice stitched with a butterfly crest over the heart. There were more than 100 of them, stretching through the exhibits of the museum, past its open back doors, and into the vast ballroom of Good Hall. Faces obscured, they stood eerily still, arms raised with hands to opposite elbows as if summoning genies. Hovering above them, just beneath the ceiling, two more veiled girls on magic carpets beat snare drums faster and faster.
At the front of this parade was a lone girl without anyone else in her row. Her veil was blue instead of white, her hair ginger red, and the pallid skin on her thin arms dotted with strawberry freckles. Slowly she raised her arms . . .
The drums stopped.
With an untamed screech, the girl blew a blast of fire that singed the magic carpets and sent Agatha and Sophie quailing from flames. As the drums beat once more, the girl whipped into a whirling belly dance, punctuating each move with a wild whistle or trill.
“One look at her, and Tedros will forget all about his wish maker,” said Sophie coldly, watching her.
“Sophie, I’m sorry.” Agatha shifted closer to her friend. “I really am.”
Sophie shifted away.
“I’d never lose you for a boy,” Agatha prodded. But eyeing the dancing girl, she suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy. . . . Had Tedros seen her?
She crushed the thought. Tedros wanted to kill her best friend, and she was still thinking of him? He’s the enemy, you idiot!
Stefan’s face haunted her, begging her to return Sophie home safe. Where was the Agatha who’d do anything to protect her best friend? The one who had control over her feelings? The one who was Good?
By now, the rows behind started to echo the leader’s dance, flowing with crisp hand movements. Then, with a sudden flourish, the girls all turned to each other and danced in pairs. Hands brushed and clasped as they touched backs before lifting arms and switching places, never losing the touch of their palms. In their glinting blue harem pants and white veils, they looked like swaying sea anemones. Despite the storm in her heart, Sophie managed a smile. She had never seen something so beautiful. Then again, she’d never seen girls dance without boys.
Agatha didn’t like Sophie’s expression. “Sophie, I need to talk to Tedros.”
“No.”
“I said I’m sorry. You have to let me fix it!”
“No.”
“The fool thinks I want you killed!” Agatha said, smacking away a blue butterfly on her shoulder. “I’m the only one who can make him see reason.”
“A prince who thinks he’s School Master, bet half his fortune on my head, and you think he’ll see reason,” Sophie said, letting the butterfly perch on her. “I’m surprised Good ever wins if it’s this naive.”
Agatha glanced at the Dean’s back to them. She couldn’t possibly eavesdrop with the drums pounding and the dancing girl hooting like a hyena, but Agatha had the strange feeling she could hear everything.
“Sophie, I lost myself for a moment,” she whispered. “It was a mistake.”
Sophie watched the lead girl spew another jet of fire. “Maybe the Dean is right,” she said, not whispering at all. “Maybe I should stay here.”
“What? We don’t even know where she came from, let alone how she’s Dean! You saw the look on Professor Dovey’s face. You can’t trust her—”
“Right now, I trust her more than you.”
Agatha could have sworn she saw the Dean grin. “You’re not safe here, Sophie! Tedros will come for you!”
“Let him. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“I want you home alive!” Agatha begged. “I want us to forget ever coming to the School for Good and Evil! I don’t want Tedros!”
Sophie whirled, snarling. “Then why did you wish for him?”
Agatha froze.
“Let the gifts begin!” the Dean decreed.
“Gifts!” Sophie spun from Agatha, beaming. “At last, some good news.” She sidled up to the Dean as the veiled girls fanned to the walls like a clamshell opening, leaving a wide aisle down the middle.
Agatha followed warily, remembering what this world had once done to her and her best friend. The longer they stayed here, the longer they were in danger. She had to get Sophie home now.
Moving into the sunlight of a small window, she noticed the museum exhibits had changed. Evidence of boys’ achievements had all been stripped and replaced with relics from her and Sophie’s fairy tale: Agatha’s Evergirl uniform, Sophie’s Lunchtime Lectures sign, Agatha’s note to Sophie during the Trial by Tale, the slashed lock of hair from Sophie’s Doom Room punishment, and dozens of others, each enshrined in a blue glass case. On the main wall, the Ever After mural, which once celebrated the marriage of prince and princess, was now covered with a navy canvas, embroidered with butterflies. Indeed, the only holdover was Professor Sader’s old nook of paintings off the far corner. As a seer who could glimpse the future, the former History teacher had once drawn paintings of every Reader who had come from Gavaldon to the School for Good and Evil. Whenever Agatha needed answers, she always drifted back to these paintings, finding new clues. All she wanted was to study them again now, but there were two veiled girls marching towards her down the aisle, carrying an enormous purple vase.
“From Maidenvale,” said Dean Sader, honeyed voice now deep and commanding. “An urn from Princess Riselda, who like hundreds of others, heard your story and realized she’d be happier without her prince. She had his throne burned and offers the ashes to you.”
The girls held up the urn to Sophie and Agatha, who peered at its carving of a prince magically ejected out a castle window to crocodiles below.
“We don’t want it,” Agatha crabbed.
“Shall we put it in my room?” smiled Sophie, turning to the Dean.
“Room?” Agatha blurted. “Sophie, you’re not staying—”
But now two girls were marching down the aisle with oriental, bamboo drapes—
“From Pifflepaff Hills,” the Dean boomed. “A hand-painted tree
curtain from Princess Sayuri, who read your tale and realized that without princes, princesses and witches are happier.”
Its exquisitely painted bamboo reeds depicted a princess and witch embracing in one panel, while in the other, a prince who looked a lot like Tedros was flogged to a pulp by a beast.
“This is horrible,” Agatha snapped.
“Hang them by my bed,” Sophie chimed to the two veiled girls. “What’s next?”
The Dean pointed a gold-lacquered nail down the aisle. “From Netherwood, a tapestry of homeless princes…”
“I wish Professor Dovey and Lady Lesso could appreciate someone as chic as you,” Sophie fawned to the Dean, as the procession of prince-abusing gifts continued, including prince voodoo dolls, looted prince swords, and a carpet made out of prince hair. “Do classes start today?”
The Dean grinned as she glided away. “Including mine.”
“You’re not serious,” Agatha hissed to Sophie. “Now you want to go to class?”
“Let’s hope they renovated those rooms made of candy.” Sophie hand combed her hair, readying for the day. “I’m allergic to the smell.”
“Sophie, there is a bounty on your head—”
“And lastly, a gift from me,” declared Dean Sader, standing in front of the covered Ever After mural. “Students, your old school taught you balance was about vanquishing Good or Evil. But how can there be balance between Evers and Nevers until there is balance between Boy and Girl? It is no mistake our Readers have returned to join our school, for their fairy tale remains unfinished.”
She looked right at the two girls. “And the battle for its ending just begun.”
She let the canvas fall. Agatha and Sophie drew breaths.
The words EVER AFTER, giant and glimmering, still peeked from painted clouds at the top of the mural in gold block letters. Everything else had been redone.
Now the scene depicted two sprawling blue-glass castles around a lake, as girls in azure uniforms gathered on tower balconies, basked on the lakeshores, and strolled the gated grounds. Some of these girls were beautiful, some were ugly, but they worked, lived, and idled together without division, as if witches and princesses were always meant to be friends.