Agatha hugged Stefan too, nestling against him, as her tears stained his shirt. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything. But as she caught Sophie’s eyes, her friend clearly having the same thoughts, neither of them said a word. For in a single moment, they’d found everything they needed. They didn’t need any more. There, in the space between worlds, two girls held their father, their bodies still and serene, as if three pieces had been made whole at last.
Agatha looked up at Stefan, smiling. With a gasp, she broke away from him—
For Stefan was shimmering, along with the rest of the villagers behind him. Within seconds, their bodies turned translucent, as Gavaldon started vanishing into a glare of white light.
Stunned, Stefan looked up and saw a shield streaking down from the sky—
Agatha felt Sophie’s hand on hers, pulling her away from him.
“No. Stay with us, Sophie . . . ,” Stefan begged, fading faster. “Stay with your family!”
“I love you, Father, but you have a new family now,” said Sophie, eyes glistening. “The one you always deserved. The one that will make you truly happy.” She held Agatha closer. “I have a new family too. One that can finally make me happy. So don’t worry about me, Father. Please. Don’t look back. Never look back.”
“No . . . Sophie, no . . .” Stefan lunged out a hand for his daughter as the shield slashed between them—
“Wait!”
Light slipped through his fingers.
He was gone.
35
Never Ever After
Sophie rose early to watch the sun.
Wrapped in a wool blanket, she leaned over the rooftop balcony of Merlin’s Menagerie, surrounded by leafy sculptures of her best friend’s love story and gazed out at the brilliant fireball amidst purple shreds of sky. She’d forgotten what the sun looked like, so full and strong, brushing across her like a warm, gold kiss.
In the dawn light, she could see the glittering blue glass towers of Honor and Valor beneath her, the pink towers of Purity and Charity connected by a colored breezeway, and across the bay, the jagged black castles of Malice, Mischief, and Vice. The School Master’s death had restored the School for Good and Evil to balance, even though both the lake and moat sides of Halfway Bay continued to belch with noxious green fog. Merlin insisted the condition would resolve on its own, once Evers and Nevers resumed their classes and the magical wave responsible for sorting students began its rounds.
It had taken the wizard and Tinkerbell most of the night to fly the School Master’s tower from the Blue Forest back to its rightful place between the halves of the bay. For one thing, Tink’s aging fairy dust moved the structure slower than a snail would; for another, Tink was still adjusting to the new wing Merlin had made for her out of a blue butterfly he’d found in the Dean’s office.
The wizard had yet to remand the Nevers to Evil’s castle, preferring they all stay together for the night in the comforts of the Good dormitories. Once the Good and Evil teachers were freed, the faculty spent most of the evening treating injured students and heroes, while the rest of the Evers and Nevers had a full supper of turkey meatballs, carrot-ginger soup, green herb salad, and raspberry pie, catered by Merlin’s hat. If any of the Evil teachers resented the loss of their School Master or having been sealed in their rooms during the war, none of them showed it—perhaps because they saw the extent of the wounds suffered in battle, or more likely because Lady Lesso’s death meant one of them would be chosen the new Dean of Evil. With the School Master gone and Lady Lesso unable to choose a successor, it was soon widely presumed that Professor Manley would take her place. (He’d already spent the night redecorating her office.)
As the sun slipped behind a cloud, the winter chill returning, Sophie sat down and snuggled against a topiary of Tedros proposing to Agatha at the Circus of Talents. Resting her head between them, she let her eyes close, thankful that she had nowhere to be, no one to seek, and nothing wanting in her heart.
She’d never truly loved Rafal, no matter how much she’d told herself she did. She’d used him, trying to heal the hole in her soul . . . just like he’d tried to use her. But he was gone now, the finger that once wore his ring bare and blank.
Dreams floated by and she found herself standing in front of beautiful white-and-blue spires spearing the sky, topped with vermillion flags . . .
Camelot.
She could see the white marble path leading towards the kingdom . . . the tall, silver gates wide open . . . Agatha and Tedros, hand in hand, waiting for her on the other side with big, bright smiles . . .
“Sophie?”
Her eyes fluttered open to full-blown morning.
“They’re starting soon,” said Hort.
He was standing at the frosted door of the roof, his muscular frame obscured by a dumpy black tunic that used to be Evil’s uniform.
In his hand was a matching tunic.
“No,” Sophie gasped. “Really?”
Hort cracked a grin. “Really.”
The funerals for Cinderella and Lady Lesso took place in the Blue Forest, which was already coming back to life by the time the nymphs began laying out chairs in the Tulip Garden.
All the Nevers wore their saggy black uniforms and sat on the left side of the grass, while all the Evers sat on the right, with the girls in their usual pink pinafores and the boys in sky-blue shirts, navy jackets, and knotted slim ties. Many of the students had bruises, bandages, and casts, which they showed off to classmates with furtive whispers and the utmost pride. Indeed, there were no dirty looks across the aisle nor any of the usual rancor between the Good and Evil schools . . . but instead a silent gratitude that the other school was present at all.
The old heroes were there too, neatly fitted out in suits and dresses they’d found in the faculty closets. Only Lancelot was absent, who couldn’t bear to be away from his Guinevere any longer and had absconded during the night, once the students were safely asleep.
Everyone expected Merlin to preside over the ceremony as he stepped to the dais in front of the twin coffins, but the wizard invited Professor Dovey to say a few words instead.
Dressed in her chartreuse gown, Clarissa Dovey took the lectern, her brown eyes glassy, her nose tipped red.
“So much has been written of Cinderella, a student whose fairy tale will live on forever,” she began. “But there will be no stories of Lady Lesso. No tales passed down from Reader to Reader, keeping her name alive. For that, she would be thankful. Because Leonora Lesso only wanted one thing in her life. To find the true meaning of Evil. And it was in the pursuit of that meaning that she showed us why this school must endure. For in the end, it was Evil’s Dean who proved that sometimes Good isn’t Evil’s greatest enemy . . . but an unexpected friend.”
She spoke a while longer, but it was these words that remained in the minds of young and old when the Good Dean was finished, as they each took a turn touching the coffins and saying quiet goodbyes.
After the nymphs carried the coffins out of the Blue Forest and into the Woods, where they’d be properly buried by a new Crypt Keeper, the others moved into the Blue Pumpkin Patch for tea. Reena and Millicent played their flutes and Beatrix sang an aria no one listened to, while Merlin’s hat laid out a colorful spread of jam-dot cookies, coconut cake, caramel macaroons, and sugar-mint scones. Nearby, students broke into sun-drenched packs, sober faces gradually melting to smiles.
Hester, Anadil, and Dot peered at Sophie across the pumpkins, clad in Evil’s saggy black robes, and idling alongside Agatha in pink and Tedros in blue.
“Strange part is I’ll miss them,” said Anadil, rats peeking out of her tunic. “Even the cretinous prince.”
“At least with Sophie gone, Hester will finally be Class Captain,” Dot said, adding chocolate chips to her scone.
“Won’t mean very much without her, will it?” Hester said wistfully. “She was the greatest witch of us all.”
On the other side of the patch, S
ophie noticed Hester, Anadil, and Dot sharing pieces of a scone and for the briefest of moments, she wished she could take them to Camelot with her.
“You’re worse than Sophie,” garbled Agatha’s voice.
Sophie turned to see her arguing with Tedros, Agatha’s mouth full of cake.
“You keep saying you’re hungry, but then you won’t eat anything,” Agatha badgered, spilling crumbs on her pink dress.
“Coronation’s tomorrow, which means they paint the royal portrait, which stays up for the next thousand years. Sorry if I want to look my best,” Tedros groused.
“They’re painting mine too and you don’t see me or Reaper acting like a ninny,” said Agatha, beaming at her hideous cat, chasing squealing Kiko around the Willows.
“Reaper?” Tedros blurted. “If you think for one second I’m allowing that Satan-worshipper in my castle—”
“Your castle? I thought it was our castle.”
“Which means we get a pet we both like.”
“No Reaper, no me.”
“No you, then.”
“You puffed-up, lily-livered, mule-headed—”
Agatha stopped and saw Sophie goggling at the two of them.
“I really am better off, aren’t I?” said Sophie.
All three of them burst into laughter.
“Tedros! Look!” Chaddick hollered.
The prince turned to see a gaggle of Evers gathered at the Blue Forest gates, ogling a white-and-blue carriage swerving up the path, pulled by two white horses, the corners of its square enclosure topped with vermillion flags.
“Is that it?” Agatha asked nervously.
Tedros smiled. “Come on, love. Camelot’s waiting,” he said, yanking her towards it. He glanced back. “Hurry, Sophie! There’s room in the carriage for three!”
“Which means your mother and I will have to ride behind!” a deep voice hollered.
Tedros looked up to see Lancelot with Guinevere, saddled on Benedict the horse, racing alongside the carriage.
By the time Guinevere dismounted, Tedros had nearly flattened her with a hug.
“You’re coming with us?” he said, tears flowing.
“Me and the ogre,” said Guinevere, kissing his cheek. “A king needs his mother.” She looked up at Agatha. “And so does his queen.”
Agatha embraced her. “You have no idea,” she breathed.
“Thank you, Mother,” Tedros sniffled, putting his arms around the both of them. “Thank you—”
“You can thank her by taking that death warrant off her head,” Lancelot crabbed.
“Oh Lance, must you ruin everything!” Guinevere sighed.
As Lancelot relented and joined the group hug, Sophie watched from a distance as Agatha wrapped tighter into the arms of a loving prince and new, beautiful family. Seeing the glow in her friend’s face, Sophie’s own heart felt light as a cloud. Lady Lesso was right. Agatha’s happiness was her happiness. And that was Ever After enough.
“Sophie, come on!”
She glanced up at Tedros and Agatha, holding the carriage door open for her.
With a smile, Sophie started heading towards them—
“Dear girl, do you mind retrieving my cape from Professor Dovey’s office?” said Merlin, sauntering by in his shirtsleeves. “These old bones won’t make it up another flight of stairs.”
Sophie frowned, pointing at her friends ahead. “But they’re—”
“Don’t worry,” said Merlin, breezing past her. “We’ll hold the carriage.”
The door to Professor Dovey’s office was open and Sophie hurried inside, not wanting to keep her friends waiting.
The second desk was gone and the Dean of Good’s office restored the way it once was, smelling of cinnamon and cloves. But Sophie couldn’t see Merlin’s cloak anywhere: not on the coat hooks, nor on the chair or desk . . .
But there was something else on the desk that made Sophie stop.
Between the pumpkin paperweights and basket of fresh sour plums lay a long white box cinched with a single purple ribbon. Attached to the box was a card that read:
Sophie
“It was on my desk when we returned.”
Sophie turned to see Professor Dovey at the door.
“Lady Lesso must have left it before she freed me from the Brig,” said Clarissa, stepping beside her. “There was no will, no letter . . . only this.”
Sophie ran her fingers along the stiff edges of the box and her inked name on the card, nothing else on the front or back, before peeking up at the Dean.
“We won’t know what it is until you look inside, dear,” Dovey said.
Slowly Sophie tugged at the purple ribbon and watched it slide away. Leaning over the desk, her hand curled around the edge of the white lid and pulled the box open.
Sophie choked.
“No. . . . How—how can—”
She spun to Professor Dovey, but the Good Dean was smiling at the box through tears.
“She told us, didn’t she?” Clarissa whispered hopefully. “The ‘Old and the New together . . .’”
She touched Sophie’s cheek. “‘Both in good hands.’”
Outside the carriage, Tedros brought his mother and Lancelot cups of tea. Leaning against a wheel, Agatha picked burrs out of Reaper’s warty skin while Merlin studied his beardless face in the coach’s glass window.
“After every epic journey, something must be lost,” he said, probing his newly visible chin.
“Merlin, I’ve been thinking,” said Agatha. “Why could I get through the shield between Gavaldon and the Woods when no one else could?”
“The shield was made to keep Evil from breaking into the Reader World, my dear,” said Merlin. “But sometimes to keep Evil from getting in, you have to let Good out.”
Agatha watched him, her throat tightening. “Oh Merlin . . . how I’ll miss you.”
“Miss me?” said Merlin, swiveling. “You don’t think I’ll let that boy run a kingdom without my help, do you?”
“And here I thought I was too old for a tutor,” Tedros grinned, sidling next to Agatha.
“Not sixteen until tomorrow, boy,” piped the wizard, sizing up the young couple. “Besides, in time, you’ll have a little rug rat who needs a tutor too.”
Agatha and Tedros gaped at him, both hot pink.
Merlin cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should focus on making it through your coronation first.”
“If only there was room in our coach, you could spend the whole ride to Camelot making Agatha and I uncomfortable,” Tedros quipped. “But alas, with Sophie, our carriage is full.”
Merlin looked past them, mouth curling into a smile. “Is it?”
Tedros and Agatha turned.
Sophie swept towards them, wearing Lady Lesso’s majestic, sharp-shouldered purple gown.
Agatha dropped her cat.
Sophie had no makeup on, sleepless bags under her eyes, and her hair was a bit of a mess, but even so, as they faced each other in silence, Agatha had never seen her friend look so calm, so assured, so . . . beautiful.
That’s when Agatha knew.
“It’s what she wanted, Aggie,” Sophie rasped.
Agatha’s lip quivered. “You’re—you’re not coming with us?”
“I’ll be Dean of Evil, while Professor Dovey stays on as Dean of Good. The two of us working side by side like Lesso and Dovey once did,” said Sophie. “Together, we’ll keep the Storian well guarded until a new School Master is named.”
She could see a crowd of Evers, Nevers, teachers, and heroes, old and young, gawking as word spread. (Professor Manley broke his teacup.)
Agatha couldn’t speak. “But . . . but . . .”
“You wanted me to be happy, Agatha,” said Sophie. “This is where I belong. This is what I want. Teaching students like me what Evil really means.”
Agatha shook her head, tears rising. “Oh, Sophie. You’ll be a wonderful Dean,” she gasped, throwing arms around her. “I’ll . . . I’ll just miss
you.”
“You’ll be an even better queen, Aggie,” Sophie promised. “You’ll change their lives. Like you changed mine.”
Even Tedros looked misty-eyed now. “It’s only a day’s ride to Camelot, Sophie. Surely you’ll come visit?”
“As much as you two will have me,” Sophie said.
Agatha hugged her tighter, her tear-stained cheek against her friend’s. “I love you, Sophie. I love you more than you can know.”
“I do know, Aggie,” Sophie whispered. “Because I love you just the same.”
There the two girls stayed, holding each other, until Merlin finally ushered Agatha and her prince inside. As the carriage rode off, Guinevere and Lancelot riding behind, Sophie waved one last goodbye to her friends. The coach trailed into the dappled Woods towards the shadows of spires, faint over the horizon, before the final wheel vanished into the trees.
Agatha and Tedros were gone.
Standing alone at the gates, Sophie let herself cry, shedding warm, cleansing tears.
It wasn’t goodbye forever. Only goodbye for now.
And if ever the distance was too much to bear, she would just look inside her heart, for Agatha was already there.
“Hmm . . . Maybe your Prince Charming is just around the corner,” said a voice.
Sophie looked up at Hort next to her.
She took in his playful face, well-built body, and adoring grin . . .
“I’m afraid I’ve already found my Ever After, Hort,” said Sophie.
“What? With who?” Hort asked, aghast—
“On my own,” she said, her voice sure and clear. “I’m happy on my own.”
And for the first time, she knew it was true.
As Hort fumbled for words, the bells rang over both schools, summoning the students to their castles. Whispering Nevers gave their new Dean gobsmacked looks as they herded towards the north gates. (“What were you saying about missing her?” Dot ribbed Hester and Anadil, both deathly pale.)
Sophie took a deep breath and hustled after them. “First things first, Evil needs a new look. Enough with black and doom and gloom, when we should be celebrating our edge, our uniqueness,” she said thoughtfully. “We’ll have to weed out underperforming teachers, of course, and encourage Nevers to find their Nemesis within. That’s how we’ll find the best talents for the Circus . . . and a Ball! Let the winning school in the Trial host the Snow Ball. . . . Oh, that’ll cook Good’s goose, won’t it—”