The School for Good and Evil by Soman Chainani
“One more time, Beatrix.”
“Right here,” Beatrix snapped.
“Thank you, Beatrix. Kiko!”
“Present!”
“Again, Kiko.”
“I’m here, Professor Sader!”
“Excellent. Reena!”
“Yes.”
“Again?”
Agatha groaned. At this rate, they’d be here until new moon.
“Tedros!”
“Here.”
“Louder, Tedros.”
“Good grief, is he deaf?” Agatha grouched.
“No, silly,” said Kiko. “He’s blind.”
Agatha snorted. “Don’t be ridi—”
The glassy eyes. The matching names to voices. The way he gripped the lectern.
“But his paintings!” Agatha cried. “He’s seen Gavaldon! He’s seen us!”
That’s when Professor Sader met her eyes and smiled, as if to remind her he’d never seen anything at all.
“So let me get this straight,” Sophie said. “There were two School Masters first. And they were brothers.”
“Twins,” said Hester.
“One Good, one Evil,” said Anadil.
Sophie moved along a series of chipped marble murals built into Evil Hall. Covered in emerald algae and blue rust, torch-lit with sea-green flames, the hall looked like a cathedral that had spent most of its life underwater.
She stopped at one, depicting two young men in a castle chamber, keeping watch over the enchanted pen she had seen in the School Master’s tower. One brother wore long black robes, the other white. In the cracked mosaic, she could make out their identical handsome faces, ghostly pale hair, and deep blue eyes. But where the white-robed brother’s face was warm, gentle, the black-robed one’s was icy and hard. Still, something about both of their faces seemed familiar.
“And these brothers ruled both schools and protected the magic pen,” Sophie said.
“The Storian,” Hester corrected.
“And Good won half the time and Evil won half the time?”
“More or less,” said Anadil, feeding a snail to her pocketed rats. “My mother used to say that if Good went on a streak, Evil would find new tricks, forcing Good to improve its defense and beat them back.”
“Nature’s balance,” said Dot, munching on a schoolbook she’d turned to chocolate.
Sophie moved to the next mural, where the Evil brother had gone from ruling peacefully alongside his brother to attacking him with a barrage of spells. “But the Evil one thought he could control the pen—um, Storian—and make Evil invincible. So he gathers an army to destroy his brother and starts war.”
“The Great War,” said Hester. “Where everyone took a side between Good brother and Evil brother.”
“And in the final battle between them, someone won,” said Sophie, eyeing the last mural—a sea of Evers and Nevers bowed before a masked School Master in silver robes, the glowing Storian floating above his hands. “But no one knows who.”
“Quick-study,” Anadil grinned.
“But then surely people must know if he’s the Good brother or Evil brother?” Sophie asked.
“Everyone pretends it’s a mystery,” said Hester, “but since the Great War, Evil hasn’t won a single story.”
“But doesn’t the pen just write what happens in the Woods?” Sophie said, studying the strange symbols in the Storian’s steel. “Don’t we control the stories?”
“And it just happens one day all villains die?” Hester growled. “That pen is forcing our fates. That pen is killing all the villains. That pen is controlled by Good.”
“Storian, love,” Dot chomped. “Not a pen.”
Hester smacked the book out of her mouth.
“But if you’re going to die every time, why bother teaching villains?” said Sophie. “Why have the School for Evil at all?”
“Try asking a teacher that question,” piped Dot, digging in her bag for a bigger book.
“Fine, so you villains can’t win anymore,” Sophie yawned, filing her nails with a marble shard. “What’s this to do with me?”
“The Storian started your fairy tale,” Hester frowned.
“So?”
“And given your current school, the Storian thinks you’re the villain in that fairy tale.”
“And I should care about the opinion of a pen?” Sophie said, whittling nails on her other hand.
“I take back the quick-study bit,” said Anadil.
“If you’re the villain, you die, you imbecile!” Hester barked.
Sophie broke a nail. “But the School Master said I could go home!”
“Or maybe his riddle’s a trap.”
“He’s Good! You said it yourself!”
“And you’re in Evil,” said Hester. “He’s not on your side.”
Sophie looked at her. Anadil and Dot had the same grim expression.
“I’m going to die here?” Sophie squeaked, eyes welling. “There has to be something I can do!”
“Solve the riddle,” Hester said, shrugging. “It’s the only way you’ll know what he’s up to. Plus your ending needs to happen soon. If you win one more challenge, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Then tell me the answer!” Sophie yelled.
“What does a villain never have that a princess can’t do without?” Hester mulled, itching her tattoo.
“Animals, maybe?” said Dot.
“Villains can have animal henchmen. Just takes deeper corruption,” said Anadil. “What about honor?”
“Evil has its own version of honor, valor, and everything else Good thinks they invented,” Hester said. “We just have better names for them.”
“I have it!”
They turned to Sophie.
“A birthday party!” she said. “Who would want to go to a Villain Party?”
Anadil and Hester stared at her.
“It’s because she doesn’t eat,” said Dot. “Brains need food.”
“Then you must be the smartest girl alive!” Sophie roared.
Dot glared back at her. “Remember the cruelest villains die the cruelest deaths.”
Sophie turned to Hester nervously. “Would Lady Lesso tell me the answer?”
“If she thinks it’ll help Evil win.”
“You’d have to be clever,” said Anadil.
“And subtle,” said Hester.
“Cleverness? Subtlety? That’s what I do, darling,” Sophie said, relieved. “This riddle is good as solved.”
“Or not, given we’re fifteen minutes late,” said Dot.
Indeed, the only thing chillier than Lady Lesso’s frozen classroom was the looks she gave the four girls as they slipped through the door to their seats.
“I would send you for punishment, but they’re occupied with students from my last class.”
Boys’ screams echoed from beneath their feet. The whole class trembled at the thought of what was happening in the Doom Room.
“Let’s see if our latecomers can redeem themselves,” said Lady Lesso, heels clacking ominously.
“What are we doing?” Sophie whispered to Hort.
“She’s testing us on famous Nemeses,” Hort whispered. “If you get a question right, you get one of these.” He flaunted a massive stick-on wart glued to his cheek.
Sophie recoiled. “That’s a reward?”
“Hester, can you name a villain who destroyed her Nemesis with a Nightmare Curse?”
“Finola the Fairy Eater. Finola the Witch haunted the fairies’ dreams and convinced them to cut off their own wings. With the fairies no longer able to fly, Finola caught and ate them one by one.”
Sophie swallowed whatever came up. But she had never heard of Finola the Fairy Eater, so Hester had surely gotten it wrong.
“Correct! Finola the Fairy Eater! One of the most famous stories of all!” Lady Lesso said, and stuck a giant wart on Hester’s hand.
Famous? Sophie wrinkled her nose. Famous where?
“Anadil, name a villain who killed their
Nemesis using disguise!” Lady Lesso said.
“Rabid Bear Rex. Dressed himself in a bear skin because Princess Anatole loved bears. When she tried to pet him, he cut her throat.”
“A great role model for us all, Rabid Bear Rex!” said Lady Lesso, and planted a wart on Anadil’s neck. “If he was alive, he’d wipe that grin off every one of Clarissa’s gloating cockerels!”
Sophie bit her lip. Were they making this all up?
“Dot. Name a villain who murdered their Nemesis with transformation!”
“The Frost Queen! Turned the princess into ice and put her in the morning sun!”
“My favorite tale of all!” Lady Lesso thundered. “A story that will live forever in the hearts of—”
Sophie snorted.
“Is something funny?” said Lady Lesso.
“Never heard of any of these,” Sophie said.
Hester and Anadil sank in their seats.
“Never heard of them?” Lady Lesso sneered. “These are Evil’s greatest triumphs! The glory that inspires future villains! Four Girls in a Well! Twelve Drowned Princesses! Ursula the Usurper, The Witch of—”
“Never heard of those either,” Sophie sighed, combing back her hair. “Where I come from, no one would read a story where Evil wins. Everyone wants Good to win because Good has better looks, nicer clothes, and more friends.”
Lady Lesso was speechless.
Sophie turned to her classmates. “I’m sorry that no one likes you and you never win and that you have to go to school for no reason, but it’s the truth.”
Hester pulled her robes over her face.
Dot leaned forward and whispered into Sophie’s ear. “The riddle, love.”
“Oh, yes,” said Sophie, all business. “While I have the floor, here’s a bit of a brainteaser. It’s quite important that I solve it, so any help would be deeply appreciated. What does a villain never have that a princess can’t do without? Any ideas? Feel free to shout them out. Merci, darlings.”
“I have an idea,” said Lady Lesso.
“I knew you would.” Sophie smiled. “What is it? What do I have that you don’t?”
Lady Lesso thrust her face in hers. “Nothing. Which is what we’ll be hearing from you the rest of class.”
Sophie had an appeal, but it never made it out of her mouth. Her lips were sealed shut.
“Much better,” Lady Lesso said, and blessed Sophie with a wart between the eyes.
As Sophie pried at her lips, Lady Lesso stood calmly and smoothed her purple gown, ignoring the petrified students around her.
“Now, Hort, tell me a villain who employed a Raven Death Trap.”
Wheezing through her nose, Sophie wrenched at her mouth with a pen, hair clip, and icicle, which pierced her lips. Gasp, wail, scream, she tried it all, but all she found was silence, panic, blood—
And Hester glowering from the front row.
“Good as solved, eh?”
13
Doom Room
Agatha had no idea why lunch was a joint-school activity, because Evers sat with Evers, Nevers sat with Nevers, and both groups pretended the other wasn’t there.
Lunch took place in the Clearing, an intimate picnic field outside the Blue Forest gates. To get to the Clearing, students had to journey through twisty tunnels of trees that grew narrower and narrower, until one by one the children spat through a hollowed trunk onto emerald grass. As soon as Agatha came through the Good tunnel, she followed the line of Evers receiving picnic baskets from nymphs in red hoods, while Nevers from the Evil tunnel took rusty pails from red-suited wolves.
Agatha found a shady patch of grass and reached into her willow basket to find a lunch of smoked trout sandwiches, rampion salad, strawberry soufflé, and a vial of sparkling lemon water. She let thoughts of riddles and dead ends fall away as she opened her watering mouth to the sandwich—
Sophie swiped it. “You don’t know what I’ve been through,” she sobbed, scarfing it whole. “Here’s yours.” She plunked down a pail of gruel.
Agatha stared at her.
“Look, I asked,” Sophie garbled between bites. “Apparently Nevers need to learn deprivation. Part of your training. This is lovely, by the way.”
Agatha was still staring.
“What?” Sophie said. “Do I have blood on my teeth? Because I thought I got it al—”
Over Agatha’s shoulder, she saw Tedros and his friends pointing and snickering.
“Oh no,” Sophie groaned. “What’d you do now?”
Agatha kept gaping at her.
“If you’re going to be a brat about it, you can have the soufflé.” Sophie frowned. “Why is that strange imp waving at me?”
Agatha turned and saw Kiko across the Clearing, waving and flaunting newly red hair. It was the exact same color as Tristan’s. Agatha’s face went white.
“Um, you know her?” Sophie said, watching Kiko giddily approach Tristan.
“We’re friends,” Agatha said, waving Kiko away from him.
“You have a friend?” Sophie said.
Agatha turned to her.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that!” Sophie yelled.
“You haven’t been eating candy, have you?”
“Huh?” Sophie shrieked, realizing—her hand flew up and ripped Lesso’s wart off her face—“Why didn’t you tell me!” she cried, as Tedros and boys exploded into whoops.
“Ohhh, it can’t get any worse,” Sophie moaned.
Hort picked up her discarded wart and ran away with it.
Sophie looked at Agatha. Agatha cracked a smile.
“It’s not funny!” Sophie wailed.
But Agatha was laughing and so was Sophie.
“What do you think he’ll do with it?” Agatha sniggered.
Sophie stopped laughing. “We need to get home. Now.”
Agatha told Sophie about all her frustrations solving the riddle, including her dead end with Professor Sader. Before she could even try to ask about his paintings, Sader had taken off to meet his Evil students, leaving three geriatric pigs to lecture about the importance of fortifying one’s houses.
“He’s the only one who can help us,” said Agatha.
“Better hurry. My days are numbered,” Sophie said glumly and recounted everything that had happened with her roommates, including their prediction of Sophie’s doom.
“You die? That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t be the villain in our story if we’re friends.”
“That’s why the School Master said we can’t be friends,” Sophie replied. “Something has to come between us. Something that answers the riddle.”
“What could possibly come between us?” Agatha said, still at a loss. “Maybe it’s all connected. This thing that Good has and Evil doesn’t. Do you think it’s why Good always wins?”
“Evil used to win, according to Lady Lesso. But now Good has something that beats them all.”
“But the School Master forbade us to return to his tower. So the answer to the riddle isn’t a word or a thing or an idea—”
“We have to do something!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. First, it’s something that can turn us against each other. Second, it’s something that beats Evil every time. And third, it’s something we can physically do—”
The girls spun to each other. “I got it,” said Agatha—“Me too,” said Sophie—
“It’s so obvious.”
“So obvious.”
“It’s—it’s—”
“Yes, it’s—”
“No idea,” Agatha said.
“Me either,” sighed Sophie.
Across the field Everboys slowly trespassed into Evergirl territory. Girls waited like flowers to be picked, only to see Beatrix attract the lion’s share. As Beatrix flirted with her suitors, Tedros fidgeted on a tree stump. Finally he stood up, shoved in front of the other boys, and asked Beatrix to take a walk.
“He was supposed to rescue me,” Sophie whimpered, watching them
go.
“Sophie, we have the chance to save our village from a two-hundred-year-old curse, to rescue children from beatings and failings, to escape wolves, waves, gargoyles, and everything else in this awful school, and to end a story that will kill you. And you’re thinking about a boy?”
“I wanted my happy ending, Aggie,” Sophie said, tears sparkling.
“Getting home alive is our happy ending, Sophie.”
Sophie nodded, but her eyes never left Tedros.
“Welcome to Good Deeds,” said Professor Dovey to students gathered in the Purity Common Room. “Now we’re behind your other subjects, so we’ll dispense with the usual pleasantries. Let me begin by saying that over the years, I’ve seen a disturbing decrease in esteem for this class.”
“Because it’s after lunch,” Tedros whispered into Agatha’s ear.
“And you’re talking to me why?”
“Seriously, what witchy spell did you put on me to make me choose your goblin.”
Agatha didn’t turn.
“You did something,” Tedros fumed. “Tell me.”
“Can’t divulge a witch’s secrets,” Agatha said, gazing ahead.
“Knew it!” Tedros saw Professor Dovey glaring and flashed her a cocksure smile. She rolled her eyes and went on. He leaned over again to Agatha. “Tell me, and my boys will leave you alone.”
“Does that include you?”
“Just tell me what you did.”
Agatha exhaled. “I used the Hopsocotl Spell, a potent hex from the Gavaldonic Witches of Reapercat. They’re a small coven on the shores of the Callis River, not just expert spell casters but also great harvesters of—”
“What you did.”
“Well,” said Agatha, turning to him, “the Hopsocotl Spell worms its way into your brain like a swarm of leeches. It swims its way into every cranny, breeding, multiplying, festering for just the right moment. And just when it hooks into your every nook and crevice . . . ssssspppt! It sucks you of every intelligent thought and leaves you dumb as a donkey’s ass.”
Tedros went red.
“One more thing. It’s permanent,” Agatha said, and turned back around.
While Tedros mumbled about hangings, stonings, and the other ways his father punished wicked women, Agatha listened to Professor Dovey justify the importance of Good Deeds.
“Right here,” Beatrix snapped.
“Thank you, Beatrix. Kiko!”
“Present!”
“Again, Kiko.”
“I’m here, Professor Sader!”
“Excellent. Reena!”
“Yes.”
“Again?”
Agatha groaned. At this rate, they’d be here until new moon.
“Tedros!”
“Here.”
“Louder, Tedros.”
“Good grief, is he deaf?” Agatha grouched.
“No, silly,” said Kiko. “He’s blind.”
Agatha snorted. “Don’t be ridi—”
The glassy eyes. The matching names to voices. The way he gripped the lectern.
“But his paintings!” Agatha cried. “He’s seen Gavaldon! He’s seen us!”
That’s when Professor Sader met her eyes and smiled, as if to remind her he’d never seen anything at all.
“So let me get this straight,” Sophie said. “There were two School Masters first. And they were brothers.”
“Twins,” said Hester.
“One Good, one Evil,” said Anadil.
Sophie moved along a series of chipped marble murals built into Evil Hall. Covered in emerald algae and blue rust, torch-lit with sea-green flames, the hall looked like a cathedral that had spent most of its life underwater.
She stopped at one, depicting two young men in a castle chamber, keeping watch over the enchanted pen she had seen in the School Master’s tower. One brother wore long black robes, the other white. In the cracked mosaic, she could make out their identical handsome faces, ghostly pale hair, and deep blue eyes. But where the white-robed brother’s face was warm, gentle, the black-robed one’s was icy and hard. Still, something about both of their faces seemed familiar.
“And these brothers ruled both schools and protected the magic pen,” Sophie said.
“The Storian,” Hester corrected.
“And Good won half the time and Evil won half the time?”
“More or less,” said Anadil, feeding a snail to her pocketed rats. “My mother used to say that if Good went on a streak, Evil would find new tricks, forcing Good to improve its defense and beat them back.”
“Nature’s balance,” said Dot, munching on a schoolbook she’d turned to chocolate.
Sophie moved to the next mural, where the Evil brother had gone from ruling peacefully alongside his brother to attacking him with a barrage of spells. “But the Evil one thought he could control the pen—um, Storian—and make Evil invincible. So he gathers an army to destroy his brother and starts war.”
“The Great War,” said Hester. “Where everyone took a side between Good brother and Evil brother.”
“And in the final battle between them, someone won,” said Sophie, eyeing the last mural—a sea of Evers and Nevers bowed before a masked School Master in silver robes, the glowing Storian floating above his hands. “But no one knows who.”
“Quick-study,” Anadil grinned.
“But then surely people must know if he’s the Good brother or Evil brother?” Sophie asked.
“Everyone pretends it’s a mystery,” said Hester, “but since the Great War, Evil hasn’t won a single story.”
“But doesn’t the pen just write what happens in the Woods?” Sophie said, studying the strange symbols in the Storian’s steel. “Don’t we control the stories?”
“And it just happens one day all villains die?” Hester growled. “That pen is forcing our fates. That pen is killing all the villains. That pen is controlled by Good.”
“Storian, love,” Dot chomped. “Not a pen.”
Hester smacked the book out of her mouth.
“But if you’re going to die every time, why bother teaching villains?” said Sophie. “Why have the School for Evil at all?”
“Try asking a teacher that question,” piped Dot, digging in her bag for a bigger book.
“Fine, so you villains can’t win anymore,” Sophie yawned, filing her nails with a marble shard. “What’s this to do with me?”
“The Storian started your fairy tale,” Hester frowned.
“So?”
“And given your current school, the Storian thinks you’re the villain in that fairy tale.”
“And I should care about the opinion of a pen?” Sophie said, whittling nails on her other hand.
“I take back the quick-study bit,” said Anadil.
“If you’re the villain, you die, you imbecile!” Hester barked.
Sophie broke a nail. “But the School Master said I could go home!”
“Or maybe his riddle’s a trap.”
“He’s Good! You said it yourself!”
“And you’re in Evil,” said Hester. “He’s not on your side.”
Sophie looked at her. Anadil and Dot had the same grim expression.
“I’m going to die here?” Sophie squeaked, eyes welling. “There has to be something I can do!”
“Solve the riddle,” Hester said, shrugging. “It’s the only way you’ll know what he’s up to. Plus your ending needs to happen soon. If you win one more challenge, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Then tell me the answer!” Sophie yelled.
“What does a villain never have that a princess can’t do without?” Hester mulled, itching her tattoo.
“Animals, maybe?” said Dot.
“Villains can have animal henchmen. Just takes deeper corruption,” said Anadil. “What about honor?”
“Evil has its own version of honor, valor, and everything else Good thinks they invented,” Hester said. “We just have better names for them.”
“I have it!”
They turned to Sophie.
“A birthday party!” she said. “Who would want to go to a Villain Party?”
Anadil and Hester stared at her.
“It’s because she doesn’t eat,” said Dot. “Brains need food.”
“Then you must be the smartest girl alive!” Sophie roared.
Dot glared back at her. “Remember the cruelest villains die the cruelest deaths.”
Sophie turned to Hester nervously. “Would Lady Lesso tell me the answer?”
“If she thinks it’ll help Evil win.”
“You’d have to be clever,” said Anadil.
“And subtle,” said Hester.
“Cleverness? Subtlety? That’s what I do, darling,” Sophie said, relieved. “This riddle is good as solved.”
“Or not, given we’re fifteen minutes late,” said Dot.
Indeed, the only thing chillier than Lady Lesso’s frozen classroom was the looks she gave the four girls as they slipped through the door to their seats.
“I would send you for punishment, but they’re occupied with students from my last class.”
Boys’ screams echoed from beneath their feet. The whole class trembled at the thought of what was happening in the Doom Room.
“Let’s see if our latecomers can redeem themselves,” said Lady Lesso, heels clacking ominously.
“What are we doing?” Sophie whispered to Hort.
“She’s testing us on famous Nemeses,” Hort whispered. “If you get a question right, you get one of these.” He flaunted a massive stick-on wart glued to his cheek.
Sophie recoiled. “That’s a reward?”
“Hester, can you name a villain who destroyed her Nemesis with a Nightmare Curse?”
“Finola the Fairy Eater. Finola the Witch haunted the fairies’ dreams and convinced them to cut off their own wings. With the fairies no longer able to fly, Finola caught and ate them one by one.”
Sophie swallowed whatever came up. But she had never heard of Finola the Fairy Eater, so Hester had surely gotten it wrong.
“Correct! Finola the Fairy Eater! One of the most famous stories of all!” Lady Lesso said, and stuck a giant wart on Hester’s hand.
Famous? Sophie wrinkled her nose. Famous where?
“Anadil, name a villain who killed their
“Rabid Bear Rex. Dressed himself in a bear skin because Princess Anatole loved bears. When she tried to pet him, he cut her throat.”
“A great role model for us all, Rabid Bear Rex!” said Lady Lesso, and planted a wart on Anadil’s neck. “If he was alive, he’d wipe that grin off every one of Clarissa’s gloating cockerels!”
Sophie bit her lip. Were they making this all up?
“Dot. Name a villain who murdered their Nemesis with transformation!”
“The Frost Queen! Turned the princess into ice and put her in the morning sun!”
“My favorite tale of all!” Lady Lesso thundered. “A story that will live forever in the hearts of—”
Sophie snorted.
“Is something funny?” said Lady Lesso.
“Never heard of any of these,” Sophie said.
Hester and Anadil sank in their seats.
“Never heard of them?” Lady Lesso sneered. “These are Evil’s greatest triumphs! The glory that inspires future villains! Four Girls in a Well! Twelve Drowned Princesses! Ursula the Usurper, The Witch of—”
“Never heard of those either,” Sophie sighed, combing back her hair. “Where I come from, no one would read a story where Evil wins. Everyone wants Good to win because Good has better looks, nicer clothes, and more friends.”
Lady Lesso was speechless.
Sophie turned to her classmates. “I’m sorry that no one likes you and you never win and that you have to go to school for no reason, but it’s the truth.”
Hester pulled her robes over her face.
Dot leaned forward and whispered into Sophie’s ear. “The riddle, love.”
“Oh, yes,” said Sophie, all business. “While I have the floor, here’s a bit of a brainteaser. It’s quite important that I solve it, so any help would be deeply appreciated. What does a villain never have that a princess can’t do without? Any ideas? Feel free to shout them out. Merci, darlings.”
“I have an idea,” said Lady Lesso.
“I knew you would.” Sophie smiled. “What is it? What do I have that you don’t?”
Lady Lesso thrust her face in hers. “Nothing. Which is what we’ll be hearing from you the rest of class.”
Sophie had an appeal, but it never made it out of her mouth. Her lips were sealed shut.
“Much better,” Lady Lesso said, and blessed Sophie with a wart between the eyes.
As Sophie pried at her lips, Lady Lesso stood calmly and smoothed her purple gown, ignoring the petrified students around her.
“Now, Hort, tell me a villain who employed a Raven Death Trap.”
Wheezing through her nose, Sophie wrenched at her mouth with a pen, hair clip, and icicle, which pierced her lips. Gasp, wail, scream, she tried it all, but all she found was silence, panic, blood—
And Hester glowering from the front row.
“Good as solved, eh?”
13
Doom Room
Agatha had no idea why lunch was a joint-school activity, because Evers sat with Evers, Nevers sat with Nevers, and both groups pretended the other wasn’t there.
Lunch took place in the Clearing, an intimate picnic field outside the Blue Forest gates. To get to the Clearing, students had to journey through twisty tunnels of trees that grew narrower and narrower, until one by one the children spat through a hollowed trunk onto emerald grass. As soon as Agatha came through the Good tunnel, she followed the line of Evers receiving picnic baskets from nymphs in red hoods, while Nevers from the Evil tunnel took rusty pails from red-suited wolves.
Agatha found a shady patch of grass and reached into her willow basket to find a lunch of smoked trout sandwiches, rampion salad, strawberry soufflé, and a vial of sparkling lemon water. She let thoughts of riddles and dead ends fall away as she opened her watering mouth to the sandwich—
Sophie swiped it. “You don’t know what I’ve been through,” she sobbed, scarfing it whole. “Here’s yours.” She plunked down a pail of gruel.
Agatha stared at her.
“Look, I asked,” Sophie garbled between bites. “Apparently Nevers need to learn deprivation. Part of your training. This is lovely, by the way.”
Agatha was still staring.
“What?” Sophie said. “Do I have blood on my teeth? Because I thought I got it al—”
Over Agatha’s shoulder, she saw Tedros and his friends pointing and snickering.
“Oh no,” Sophie groaned. “What’d you do now?”
Agatha kept gaping at her.
“If you’re going to be a brat about it, you can have the soufflé.” Sophie frowned. “Why is that strange imp waving at me?”
Agatha turned and saw Kiko across the Clearing, waving and flaunting newly red hair. It was the exact same color as Tristan’s. Agatha’s face went white.
“Um, you know her?” Sophie said, watching Kiko giddily approach Tristan.
“We’re friends,” Agatha said, waving Kiko away from him.
“You have a friend?” Sophie said.
Agatha turned to her.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that!” Sophie yelled.
“You haven’t been eating candy, have you?”
“Huh?” Sophie shrieked, realizing—her hand flew up and ripped Lesso’s wart off her face—“Why didn’t you tell me!” she cried, as Tedros and boys exploded into whoops.
“Ohhh, it can’t get any worse,” Sophie moaned.
Hort picked up her discarded wart and ran away with it.
Sophie looked at Agatha. Agatha cracked a smile.
“It’s not funny!” Sophie wailed.
But Agatha was laughing and so was Sophie.
“What do you think he’ll do with it?” Agatha sniggered.
Sophie stopped laughing. “We need to get home. Now.”
Agatha told Sophie about all her frustrations solving the riddle, including her dead end with Professor Sader. Before she could even try to ask about his paintings, Sader had taken off to meet his Evil students, leaving three geriatric pigs to lecture about the importance of fortifying one’s houses.
“He’s the only one who can help us,” said Agatha.
“Better hurry. My days are numbered,” Sophie said glumly and recounted everything that had happened with her roommates, including their prediction of Sophie’s doom.
“You die? That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t be the villain in our story if we’re friends.”
“That’s why the School Master said we can’t be friends,” Sophie replied. “Something has to come between us. Something that answers the riddle.”
“What could possibly come between us?” Agatha said, still at a loss. “Maybe it’s all connected. This thing that Good has and Evil doesn’t. Do you think it’s why Good always wins?”
“Evil used to win, according to Lady Lesso. But now Good has something that beats them all.”
“But the School Master forbade us to return to his tower. So the answer to the riddle isn’t a word or a thing or an idea—”
“We have to do something!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. First, it’s something that can turn us against each other. Second, it’s something that beats Evil every time. And third, it’s something we can physically do—”
The girls spun to each other. “I got it,” said Agatha—“Me too,” said Sophie—
“It’s so obvious.”
“So obvious.”
“It’s—it’s—”
“Yes, it’s—”
“No idea,” Agatha said.
“Me either,” sighed Sophie.
Across the field Everboys slowly trespassed into Evergirl territory. Girls waited like flowers to be picked, only to see Beatrix attract the lion’s share. As Beatrix flirted with her suitors, Tedros fidgeted on a tree stump. Finally he stood up, shoved in front of the other boys, and asked Beatrix to take a walk.
“He was supposed to rescue me,” Sophie whimpered, watching them
“Sophie, we have the chance to save our village from a two-hundred-year-old curse, to rescue children from beatings and failings, to escape wolves, waves, gargoyles, and everything else in this awful school, and to end a story that will kill you. And you’re thinking about a boy?”
“I wanted my happy ending, Aggie,” Sophie said, tears sparkling.
“Getting home alive is our happy ending, Sophie.”
Sophie nodded, but her eyes never left Tedros.
“Welcome to Good Deeds,” said Professor Dovey to students gathered in the Purity Common Room. “Now we’re behind your other subjects, so we’ll dispense with the usual pleasantries. Let me begin by saying that over the years, I’ve seen a disturbing decrease in esteem for this class.”
“Because it’s after lunch,” Tedros whispered into Agatha’s ear.
“And you’re talking to me why?”
“Seriously, what witchy spell did you put on me to make me choose your goblin.”
Agatha didn’t turn.
“You did something,” Tedros fumed. “Tell me.”
“Can’t divulge a witch’s secrets,” Agatha said, gazing ahead.
“Knew it!” Tedros saw Professor Dovey glaring and flashed her a cocksure smile. She rolled her eyes and went on. He leaned over again to Agatha. “Tell me, and my boys will leave you alone.”
“Does that include you?”
“Just tell me what you did.”
Agatha exhaled. “I used the Hopsocotl Spell, a potent hex from the Gavaldonic Witches of Reapercat. They’re a small coven on the shores of the Callis River, not just expert spell casters but also great harvesters of—”
“What you did.”
“Well,” said Agatha, turning to him, “the Hopsocotl Spell worms its way into your brain like a swarm of leeches. It swims its way into every cranny, breeding, multiplying, festering for just the right moment. And just when it hooks into your every nook and crevice . . . ssssspppt! It sucks you of every intelligent thought and leaves you dumb as a donkey’s ass.”
Tedros went red.
“One more thing. It’s permanent,” Agatha said, and turned back around.
While Tedros mumbled about hangings, stonings, and the other ways his father punished wicked women, Agatha listened to Professor Dovey justify the importance of Good Deeds.