And that didn’t seem Good to her at all.
Oh, what she would have given to see that scheming meddler thrown into the iced dungeons, with his stupid cape and infernal hat and doddering quips. Next time, she’d handle sealing prisoners in the Brig herself.
Her eyes refocused on the pitiful buffet and she glanced back at the seated teachers—Professor Manley, Professor Sheeks, Castor, Pollux, and Lady Lesso—who each had full plates of putrid food. Dean Aric was the only one missing from the gathering.
“I say the biggest problem we have is that we crammed all the Evil students into the old Good school and those numpty Nevers don’t know that castle from their own arse,” Castor grouched. “Keep locking themselves in closets and falling down secret passageways. How can they protect a school if they don’t know where anything is—”
“The biggest problem we have is the food,” Sophie’s voice boomed.
Everyone in the room turned.
“If this is what’s served at a faculty meeting—to the queen herself—what are the students enduring?” Sophie said, sitting beside Rafal on Lady Lesso’s old ice desk. She slipped her arm under his. “Now that I’ve been crowned, I have the right to make a few changes around here. And you can’t very well lead an Evil army that’s bloated and malnourished, can you, darling?”
For a moment, the young School Master looked just as dumbstruck as the teachers. Then he touched Sophie’s cheek. “Of course, my queen.”
“Lovely,” said Sophie. She glared at Pollux. “Do something about the food.”
Pollux looked as if he’d been pelted with manure.
Lady Lesso cleared her throat. “Rafal—”
“You mean Master,” said Sophie.
Lady Lesso’s eyes flicked to her. The Dean gave her an amused look, as one might give a puppet claiming to have a mind of its own.
“Master,” she simpered, back to Rafal, “I think what the rest of my colleagues are trying to say is that one cannot approach the coming war like an impetuous child. If Hester and Anadil, two of our best Nevers, turned out to be spies for Good, how can we trust the rest to be faithful to our cause? Tracking them into their future groups might sedate their instincts to rebel, but it cannot address their deeper loyalties. When faced with the choice of fighting with us or against us, we cannot predict what many of them will do, particularly those Evers whose families have fought for Good their whole lives. And speaking frankly, Master, to believe otherwise is to let your new youth impair your judgment.”
Sophie flared. “Quite sure Rafal and I know more about what young people think than you do, Lady Lesso.”
“Really?” The Dean fixed on her, the amusement gone. “Because all I see is a school full of students who will turn on you the second they get a chance.”
Sophie felt Rafal’s arm tighten. He suddenly looked like an unsure teenager instead of an all-powerful sorcerer. How could he let the teachers question him like this?
Sophie puffed her chest. “Lady Lesso, I find it offensive that you would impugn our Master’s leadershi—”
“What is it you’re proposing, Lady Lesso?” Rafal asked, ignoring his queen.
Sophie went quiet.
“I propose that you avoid the students fighting for you at all,” said Lady Lesso. “Take the old villains into the Woods and ambush Merlin’s forces before they reach our gates. Let the Dark Army finish them off before they ever get to school. The students will remain barricaded at school under our control.”
“It is the most sensible plan,” said Professor Manley, as if he and Lady Lesso had already discussed it. “Our students would only hamper your army.”
“It will prevent spies or sabotage,” said Professor Sheeks, clearly privy to the plan.
“And it will save students’ lives,” added Castor, apparently part of the team too.
(Pollux frowned, as if it was the first he was hearing of it.)
“So the old villains will fight the battle while the young students lounge here?” Sophie glowered, incredulous. “And I assume you, our virtuous and valiant faculty, will avoid the front line too?”
“Can’t very well leave the students unsupervised, can we? Given their dubious loyalties,” Lady Lesso glowered back, as if she wanted to gag Sophie with her crown.
Rafal smiled dryly at the teachers. “This isn’t about loyalties at all, is it? You don’t think we’ll win. Now that I have youth on my side, you think I might lose this war.”
“Youth also brings with it reckless optimism and a willingness to risk the lives of fellow youth. Neither of which are useful in war,” said Lady Lesso. “A war where half your own forces may not be on your side.”
Rafal held her eyes, but Sophie could see he was questioning himself even more now. She wanted him to punish Lady Lesso, to show his full strength as Evil’s leader . . .
The young Master picked at his collar and looked away dismissively. “I’m afraid you’ve wasted your breath, Lady Lesso. Truth is, I’d already decided upon leaving the students at school before you ever mentioned it.”
“I bet,” Castor mumbled.
Sophie touched Rafal’s waist. “Leaving the students behind, darling? Are you sure—”
The door crashed open and Aric stormed in.
“Can’t believe you let them get away after what that demon-skinned wench did to me,” Aric fumed, the “CREEP” slashed into his forehead glowing bloodred. “Told you we should have gutted them and served them in meat pies at supper.”
“Because that would surely inspire loyalty from their fellow students,” Lady Lesso scorned. “You and the young School Master should replace our entire faculty with hot-headed, teenage boys. You could rename the towers Brashness, Arrogance, and Thuggery.”
Aric shoved his face in hers and grabbed her by the throat. “You think because you scared that demon off me, you can talk to me like that? You think because you called a few teachers to help your wounded ‘little boy,’ all is forgiven?” he snarled, spit flying. “Well, I blame you for that witch-spy attacking me in the first place. You taught her these past two years, so clearly something went wrong in her education if she attacks her own Dean.” Aric squeezed her neck harder. “But you’re the Old Dean and I’m the New, mother. Which means when you’re out, I’m in and this school goes my way. And trust me when I say you’ll be out sooner than you think.”
Lady Lesso gurgled for breath—
“Aric, I’d prefer you kill your mother after the war is over,” said Rafal.
Sophie noticed his tone was dead serious.
Aric sensed this too, for he smirked at his mother and whispered in her ear. “And before I kill you, I’ll kill your old fairy godmother friend too. Dovey, is it? I’ll tear out her heart with my bare hands and make you watch.” He released her quickly and pulled back. “Of course, School Master. Please go on.”
Lady Lesso showed no emotion, but when her son turned to his seat, Sophie saw her eyes flicker with terror and her hand brush the marks he’d left on her throat.
“Then our plan for war is set,” Rafal resumed. “Once Merlin and his heroes approach, the old villains will ambush them in the Woods, while the young students defend the castles, under the teachers’ supervision. You will not tell the young students they’re staying behind in the coming war, of course. For the next week, they will train rigorously for combat alongside the old villains. This will ensure they’re prepared in case any of Merlin’s heroes make it past the Dark Army onto school grounds. As to who will be Training Leader of both schools—”
“Me,” Aric and Lady Lesso both spouted.
Rafal ignored Lady Lesso and began to nod at Aric—
“I have a better idea,” said Sophie.
Rafal, Aric, and the rest of the faculty all turned to her.
“Hope it’s as good an idea as the food one,” Castor muttered, drawing snickers.
“HOW DARE YOU,” Sophie hissed.
The room went still.
“I am your queen,” s
aid Sophie, slinking towards the teachers. “Not a student, not a teacher, but a Master of both. Just like the young Master who sits in front of you and yet you continue to disrespect. No wonder our students doubt their loyalties to Evil when they have old, bitter teachers who see no value in youth or a young Dean who can’t even protect himself.” She leered at Aric as she circled the teachers like a shark. “But that will change starting today. Because now they have me.
“When I was first appointed as a teacher, I resisted it. In my heart I still felt I was supposed to be Good. That’s what Readers like me are taught, after all: Never lose your faith in Good, no matter how lost you are. And yet, the Good towers may have once been named Valor, Honor, Purity, and Charity . . . but when I was lost, it was Evil that extended me those things. The rules say Good defends, forgives, helps, gives, loves . . . but in my story, it’s Evil that’s proven these rules true. And suddenly I understood what Rafal has been trying to tell me all along. That some hearts are rebel hearts, pumping with anger and darkness and pain the way others pump with light. And yet, even if my heart beats for Evil, that doesn’t mean I can’t find love. That doesn’t mean I can’t find happiness. It just means I have to find love with someone who embraces my darkness instead of fighting it. Because that’s the love that will change the world. That’s the love that will win this war. And that’s the love we must teach.”
Sophie paused, letting these words echo in the quiet room. “I was with Merlin, Tedros, and Agatha the past two weeks. I was face-to-face with all those wretched heroes in their cave. I know their weaknesses and how to beat them. And if you still doubt me, then perhaps you should remember that the last rite of any coronation is a queen’s wish for her kingdom. I didn’t have a chance to make my wish then, but I’ll make it now. My wish is to do what I couldn’t do the first time I was at this school: to lead this war against Good and know that righteousness is on our side. All of you may not trust Evil can win this war. You may choose to stay behind with the students and cower from the future. But not me. I’ll prepare our Dark Army for war. I’ll stand with Rafal at the front line. I’ll do whatever it takes to show the world that Evil can win. Because this isn’t just my fairy tale now. It’s all of ours. And in the end, my life is worth risking if it means more rebel hearts will finally have a happy ending.”
Her cheeks were red, her chest thumping.
The teachers gazed back at her. They weren’t snickering anymore. Instead their eyes shined with a new hope, as if Evil finally had a chance indeed.
Rafal clasped Sophie’s hand. “Well, then,” he said proudly. “I believe we’ve found our Training Leader.”
Sophie gave him a regal smile and turned to Lady Lesso, expecting her to be just as proud of how far her former student had come . . .
Only Lady Lesso didn’t look proud of her at all.
Once lunch was served, Merlin cleared his throat and prepared to speak, but no one paid the slightest attention. They were far too busy with the food.
With more than twenty people to serve—thirteen old heroes, three young witches, a former queen and her knight, a future queen and king, and a loveless weasel—Merlin’s hat had hidden away in the kitchen, letting out shrieks of stress, until one by one, silver platters began magically floating through the swinging door. Soon the dining table was a smorgasbord of colorful, cosmopolitan delights: truffled crab salad, curried venison with beetroot jelly, shredded duck in a citrus marinade, peppered-ham pizza on roasted pitas, a yogurt-and-mint olive tapenade, fennel and wildflower salad, and a chocolate bouchon cake with crispy honeycomb.
With the old League heroes starving from their travails in the Woods and the youngsters deprived of breakfast by the morning’s events, the dining room quickly turned into a battle scene, so crowded and muggy with jostling bodies and hands stabbing for pizza and cake that Agatha didn’t even bother looking for Tedros. Nor did she search for her prince after lunch, for she’d eaten too much and too fast and had to hide behind a sofa in the den where she could clutch her belly and burp in private. Glancing up, she saw everyone else had the same idea; each nook and cranny of the farmhouse was filled with a young or old body, nursing indigestion or passed out in a food coma.
Agatha yawned and closed her eyes, about to join the comatose, when she heard three backsides plunk to the floor.
“After everything we did to get you in and out of that school, after risking our lives for you, you couldn’t even get Sophie to destroy the ring?” Hester’s voice attacked.
Agatha opened her eyes. “I tried, Hester—”
“First of all, you can’t talk to your friends in a diamond crown. It’s pretentious,” said Anadil.
Agatha had forgotten she even had it on. She quickly pulled off the diadem and shoved it behind her back.
“Can I wear it for a bit?” Dot asked, mouth full of pizza turned to chocolate. “I bet it’ll look nice on me.”
“If it can fit around that head,” Hester mumbled.
Dot hurled her pizza at her, smacking Hester in the cheek. “Do you know how unfair that is, you contemptuous git! You made me gain weight in order to stay in the coven and now you’re making fun of me for it? Are you that insecure that you needed me to be fat to feel okay about yourself? Well, you picked the wrong piggy tail to pull, honey. I love myself no matter what I look like, so nothing you say to me will ever make me feel ugly again. Because unlike you, Hester, I’ll never be ugly inside.”
Hester gaped at Dot like she was a rabid bear. “Agatha. Give the girl the damned crown before she stays this way forever.”
Dot snatched the diadem out of Agatha’s hands and admired herself in a brass urn as she jammed it on (upside down and backwards, but no one said a thing).
“Now where were we,” said Anadil. “Oh right. The part where Agatha fails us all.”
Any pleasure Agatha took from Dot’s tirade evaporated. “Listen, I thought I could convince Sophie to destroy the ring. We’d even gotten close again in the last few days. It was like she was the old Sophie and I was the old me and I thought she’d listen . . .” She remembered their last moments together and guilt rushed through her. “I had my chance. I should have taken it—”
“You don’t have to defend yourself, Agatha. The truth is it doesn’t matter what you would have done,” Hester said with awkward sympathy, clearly smarting from Dot’s words. “We’ve warned you since the day you got here. All three of us did. Sophie was sorted into the School for Evil for a reason. And no matter how much you love her or try to change her, that’s where she was always going to end up.”
“We just didn’t think it’d be as the School Master’s queen,” said Anadil. “How we’re going to make Sophie destroy his ring now . . .”
A quiet doom fell over the witches’ faces and Agatha realized why everyone had ignored Merlin when he’d tried to speak before lunch. They wanted a few precious moments before they had to face the truth.
The truth that Sophie destroying her own ring was the only way to kill the School Master and stop him from killing them. And now that Sophie had returned to Evil, there was no hope of her destroying that ring at all.
“Did you see her when she came back?” Agatha asked softly.
“Saw her the way we saw you when we first came through the portal: wearing her new crown,” said Hester.
“Only with four hundred more people in the audience,” said Dot, still making kissy-faces in the urn.
“She did look beautiful, I have to say,” Anadil added thoughtfully. “Paraded into the Theater of Tales on a handsome boy’s arm, just like the old Sophie, who believed her destiny was so much bigger than everyone else’s. The strange thing was how calm and composed she was. Not like that warty, deranged witch who savaged anything in sight. It was as if Evil had finally opened her path to a happy ending.”
“As if Evil had the right to win,” nodded Dot.
“As if Evil was Good,” Hester finished.
Agatha thought of Sophie, who just a few days
ago had nuzzled her head against her as they rode across the moors. Sophie, her prissy, pink-dressed best friend who fantasized about being a princess for Good. Sophie, who would draw glass castles, ponder her future prince’s name, and mull what her Evil archenemy would look like—while Agatha had been branded as Evil from the day she was born. She’d retaliated by ironically playing along, wearing black and lurking in her graveyard and nursing her hateful little cat . . . until the irony wore off and even she believed she’d end up a witch.
Now here they were. She, the queen for Good. Sophie, the queen for Evil.
“How’d we get so lost?” she breathed. “How can two best friends end up at war against each other, even though they still love each other?”
“Because each of you is fighting for something bigger than yourself now,” said Hester.
Agatha hung her head. “I miss the days where my biggest worry was surviving makeovers in Beautification.”
“Speaking of makeovers, anyone notice Hort’s looking even juicier than he did at school?” chirped Dot, biting into the cocoa-pizza she’d swiped off the floor. “Saw him when we came in and he has this swarthy tan from working the moors and mud stains on his cheeks, like he’s Captain Lumberjack or something. But you know how I like woodsy types, with my crush on Robin Hood and all. Anyway, I sneak behind and give him a good sniff and notice he smells like a man now, nothing like that boy who used to wear frog pajamas and reek of baby powder, and all I could think was since there aren’t too many rooms in this place, I wonder if I can get Merlin to put me and him in the same—”