The Storybook of Legends

  The rain stopped. And the stars came out.

  Narrator?

  Maddie, you should be asleep.

  Huh? Oh, sleep magic never works on me. I think my brain assumes I’m already asleep and real life is dreams—or are dreams real life? Anyway, I can’t find Raven. I’ve looked everywhere—my hat, under my mattress, in the closet, behind the drapes, even in her room—

  You know I’m only supposed to observe the story. I can’t tell you that she’s out looking for… ack! Nothing. She’s looking for nothing. Never mind.

  Raven’s looking for something? Something lost? That’s right—she asked me about finding lost things. I’m going to help her. Right after teatime! Everyone’s asleep in the kitchen, but I found some spritzle-fizzle tea made with molted lizard skin and discarded fairy wings, and it makes your taste buds sizzle and your voice sound like the happy buzz of honeybees.

  Ooh, you must get me the recipe.

  Absotively! I’ll think it at you first thing tomorrow. Right after I find what you told me Raven lost.

  But I didn’t say a word about Bella Sister!

  Raven is looking for someone named Bella Sister? Oh, Narrator, thank you so much for the tip!

  Argh!

  SO WHEN BRIAR GOT ME UP ON THE GREAT Beanstalk,” Apple was saying, “and gave me a push, I literally thought I would die. My whole life flashed before my eyes—my first canopy bed, my first trip to the Pegasus petting zoo, the time I fell down a well.…”

  “It seems like hanging out with Briar can be a death-defying experience,” said Raven.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it! She’d love this quest, honestly. What a kick she’d get out of dangerous cliffs and hungry goblins, and if you got her into that marsh, she’d refuse to leave till she’d persuaded the Marsh King to host a dance.”

  “Maddie would have thrown a tea party for the Marsh King and insisted he stand on his head and sing till he cheered up.”

  A curve of the moon peered through the parting clouds. Raven could see the ground beneath her at least. They were walking along the sandy bank of a stream at the bottom of a gully. Around them, mountains loomed in an enormous horseshoe. She spied dark crevasses that could hide caves, but what she wanted was the yellow sand trail Bella Sister had mentioned in the note. Raven hoped it was really yellow—like canary, lemon, Blondie’s hair yellow—so she wouldn’t miss it in the moonlight.

  “I’m not normally a scaredy-pig,” Apple continued, “but my heart has never beat so hard as when I bungee jumped off the Beanstalk with Briar. Or when I was six and fell down a well. Or when you told the goblins they could eat me.”

  “I’m sorry! I was trying to nudge you and wink at you the whole time so you’d know it was a trick.”

  “Oh, it’s all right. I wasn’t scared of a little old troop of people-eating goblins,” said Apple. “I knew I could talk them out of it.”

  Raven had been afraid with the goblins. Not just afraid they would eat Apple, though that had been frightening enough. No, she’d been afraid because she knew how to stop them. All she had to do was be regal, be commanding and terrifying, dark and magical and powerful. All she had to do was be like her mother, and they would obey her absolutely. But once she became like her mother, could she ever go back to being Raven again?

  “Wait—if you weren’t scared of the goblins, what were you scared of?” Raven asked.

  “Hm? Oh, well”—Apple looked at her hands, suddenly shy—“I guess I was scared that you wanted to feed me to the goblins. I mean, I’m prepared to accept a poisoned apple from you, because that’s part of our story. But offering up someone for goblin stew is not something, you know, traditionally, that friends do.”

  Raven put her arm around Apple’s shoulders. “I’d like to be your friend, too.”

  Raven felt warm and hopeful, as if she had a bellyful of just-right porridge. They were getting closer. Surely they would find evidence of Bella Sister’s happy escape from her terrible destiny. Apple would see there was another way, and she would understand when Raven took it. To be free from the chains of her mother’s choices! Raven nearly skipped past a yellow sand trail.

  “Oh! A yellow sand trail!” said Apple.

  Lucky at last. Everything was turning around for Raven Queen.

  The trail swished and swayed this way and that, away from the stream and climbing up toward the mountain. Ahead was the opening of a cave as if the mountain had yawned. Raven imagined a cozy home built inside, where Bella and her sister settled down happily together, fishing in the stream, hunting in the woods, making friends with their goblin neighbors, and generally being free.

  They had to duck when they entered the cave. Water droplets gathered on the rock ceiling, occasionally falling into a small pool.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  “This doesn’t look like a place someone would come to live,” Raven said, her voice echoing off stone.

  The ceiling rose up farther in. They found remains of a small wooden table and chair, gnawed by termites up to its knees. The cave smelled of mold and festering things.

  “Maybe Bella didn’t stay long,” Raven whispered. “Maybe she just waited here till her sister found her, and together they ran off to a faraway kingdom to make their own Happily Ever—”

  Apple gasped.

  On a moth-bitten blanket lay a skeleton, curled up on its side, still wearing a half-rotted dress.

  “Is it… was that Bella Sister?” Apple asked.

  Raven crouched beside the skeleton. “It could be anyone. I mean, Bella Sister lived so long ago someone else might have taken shelter in here and… and died here.”

  Please don’t let it be her.…

  “Look.” Apple held up a stained, decaying canvas bag she found under the fallen table. Stitched onto its pocket were the symbol of Ever After High and the name BELLA SISTER.

  “Curses,” said Raven. “But… wait, this means she didn’t go poof, right?”

  “Maybe that’s how it works,” said Apple. “Poof, nothing left but a skeleton.”

  “Maybe,” said Raven.

  “In the very best scenario, she lived and died alone.”

  “But… we don’t know when she died. Maybe she lived a long life and died here naturally. Sure, she was probably cold and lonely and hungry and dirty and miserable… but maybe it was better than being evil.”

  Apple held up the lantern. Her eyes widened. Raven looked.

  On the rock wall, written in red paint, was: I SHOULD HAVE SIGNED THE BOOK.

  “No… it’s a mistake,” said Raven. “Bella Sister was happy. I just know it. She rebelled against the book and she was okay and she got away and… and—”

  “Raven, I think it’s pretty clear what happened to her.”

  “No!” Raven said. She was getting angry now, though there was no one to be angry with. “There’s a mistake—”

  “Bella Sister fled here and regretted it. Her sister never forgave her, or else she disappeared when Bella didn’t sign, and when Bella found out—”

  “Look!” said Raven, examining the words on the wall. “There’s a gnat stuck in this paint. This was painted recently. If this really happened long ago, the gnat would have disintegrated by now.”

  “How are you suddenly an expert on bugs?”

  “I’m the daughter of a dark sorceress, Apple. I know about these kinds of things. And I say it’s fake.”

  “No, you want it to be fake,” said Apple. “You’re making up excuses so you don’t have to believe it’s true.”

  Raven clenched her fists. Trembling, she took a hold of her fury as if it were a rope and whipped it over her head. A dark streak cracked in the air above them, sparking like dull lightning. Immediately insects emerged from everywhere: cockroaches, spiders, black crickets, ants, termites, beetles.

  “See?” said Raven. “I know bugs.”

  Apple’s nostrils flexed. “Stop avoiding the truth! If you don’t sign, our story ends. We vanish or die just like Bella
and her sister, and… and, um, Raven? Raven, the, uh… the bugs… they’re moving.”

  The floor was alive with scurrying, flicking, chittering insects. All coming toward the girls.

  “Stop them,” Apple said through clenched teeth, as if afraid the bugs could read lips.

  “I can’t. That would be a good thing, and my magic always backfires, especially when I try to do something good.” The bugs kept coming, a crawling carpet with thousands of eyes. “Oh, wait, I know what we can do.”

  “What?” Apple said without moving her mouth.

  “Run.” Raven took off, Apple on her heels, screaming as a swarm of flying, crawling, leaping insects chased them.

  “Aah!” Apple screamed. “Aah! I mean, La la la!” Apple sang desperately. “LA LA LA LA!”

  At first there was no helpful response. But instead of running back the way they’d come over the mountain, they ran south along the stream bank. No time to find the best path. They splashed through shallows, ripped through bulrushes, tripped over rocks, and careened through weeds.

  Apple kept singing, and eventually birds heard. Swarms of songbirds rushed toward Apple’s call and dived at the insects. Robins pecked at spiders, bluebirds gobbled up black crickets, chickadees attacked cockroaches. Sparrows, wrens, and starlings tweeted while they munched on bugs. Soon there were no bugs left.

  Raven, covered in dirt and un-princess-y sweat, fell down into a fern, gasping for breath.

  “No… more… bug… spells,” Apple said, leaning over to catch her breath.

  Raven nodded. She felt as grimy as a goblin tongue. Her hair was loose and tangled, full of twigs and leaves. Her clothes were ripped, her stockings full of burrs, and her boots muddy.

  “I’m such a mess!” said Apple.

  Raven glanced at Apple and did a double take. Apple’s blond hair was still lightly curled and shiny. Her clothing was somehow perfectly clean but for one dry leaf clinging to her cloak, which Apple quickly plucked off. The only sign of their flight for life was a lovely rosy glow in Apple’s round cheeks.

  Raven groaned and fell backward into the fern.

  Apple perched on a rock beside her. “Raven, I don’t want you to end up dead on some cave floor. I think she poofed. And so will you if you don’t sign.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Your life is worth more than a false hope. You have to sign the book.”

  Raven sighed. “I know,” she whispered.

  Apple smiled her confident smile. “Don’t be afraid. You won’t be alone in your story. I’ll be there with you.”

  Raven pretended to be still too out of breath to answer. She was afraid. Of many things. Turning into her mother, disappointing her father, eating cooked carrots, stepping on squishy things, and, most recently, being chased by a swarm of enchanted insects. But just then what she most feared was that Apple was right.

  The letter, the skeleton, Old Man Winters, the words on the wall—all the evidence was too strong for one little gnat to undo. Raven was grasping at a house of straws. No matter what she did, she was doomed. But at least by playing her part in the story, Raven had a chance to create a Happily Ever After for Apple. And Daring Charming, too. And for all the people in the world who would continue to know and love the tale of Snow White.

  “I’ll do it,” she whispered. “I’ll sign.”

  “Thank you, Raven,” said Apple.

  No relief came with the decision. Raven turned her face away from Apple and quietly cried.

  THE IMAGES CAME FAST AND ANGRY, LIKE A swarm of wasps stinging.

  Raven, lying on the sandy ground, covered in creepy-crawlies. Spiders, cockroaches, termites, ants, crickets—they smother her, nibble on her, devouring her from hair to toenails in seconds, leaving just a skeleton behind.

  Apple, standing at the podium on Legacy Day. Poof, she disappears. And reappears in a goblin cave. The goblin troop moves in, brandishing salad bowls and chopping knives.

  Daring Charming, no story to call home, thins and melts into a wisp of a ghost, swimming endlessly through walls.

  The crowded Charmitorium at Ever After High, Headmaster Grimm on the stage. “And remember, students, no matter what you do, don’t follow the example of the worst, most despised, most selfish character in all of Ever After history—Raven Queen!”

  “Boo!” the students yell.

  “Boo!” says the Daring ghost.

  Apple’s head in a goblin bowl opens her eyes and looks straight at Raven. “Boo!”

  RAVEN AWOKE FROM THE NIGHTMARE WITH A jerk. Her legs and feet were soaked. She sat up.

  They were in a small, leaky boat floating on a lake. Apple was still asleep. The damp at the bottom of the boat had turned into a pool of water, but somehow only on Raven’s side.

  Apple—completely dry—stirred, stretched, and yawned prettily. Raven imagined that was how she’d wake for her prince after her poisoned-apple nap.

  “How long have we been asleep?” Apple asked, rubbing her eyes under her glasses.

  They’d discovered the abandoned boat on the shore around dawn. Now the sun was straight up, looking down like a Cyclops eye.

  “A few hours,” said Raven. “At least we’re still drifting in the right direction.”

  Far off to the left of the lake were the goblin mountains and the marsh. Raven was relieved they wouldn’t have to walk that way again.

  “Water!” said Apple.

  “Yeah. We’re in a lake.”

  “Water! In the boat! I don’t swim, Raven!”

  In a panic, Apple began to paddle with her hands, trying to direct the boat to shore. Raven paddled, too, and they made it to the eastern shore still afloat.

  It was a long trek up a hillside, but at least there were no goblins. They were too tired to talk. By the time they made it to the Village of Book End, it was evening. The street was empty, the shops closed.

  In the distance, they could see the Night Briars still surrounding Ever After High. Raven led Apple to the Mad Hatter of Wonderland’s Tea & Hat Shoppe. The door was unlocked. Raven opened it, rattling a bell.

  The Mad Hatter opened a round, striped door high up on a wall.

  Even in his enormous felt top hat, he was only as tall as Raven. His hair was the same mint green as his daughter Maddie’s, only instead of lavender streaks around his face, his was streaked with white. His prominent overbite was all the more obvious because of his constant smile.

  “Hello, sir,” said Raven.

  “Raven!” said the Mad Hatter. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

  “Well,” said Raven, “both don’t have gills.”

  “Ah, very good,” he said.

  “What are you two talking about?” Apple asked Raven, yawning behind her hand.

  “It’s a riddle,” she whispered back. “He always asks, and I always give him a different answer.”

  “So wait,” Apple said, sitting at a table. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Mad Hatter.

  “Mr. Hatter,” said Raven, “we’re locked out of the high school—”

  “So you need a new hat,” said the Mad Hatter.

  “Um…”

  Apple had rested her head on a saucer on the table. She emitted a gentle snore.

  “Well, I never,” said the Mad Hatter. “Sleeping on a saucer! Where are her manners? A proper princess would curl up in a teacup.”

  It turned out the Mad Hatter had an enormous teacup in the back room, filled to the brim with pillows and feather-stuffed comforters. He offered it to Apple and Raven to sleep out the night.

  The next morning, they had tea and crumpets with lots and lots of fairyberry jam and walked back to Ever After High just after the briars dissolved. The rest of the school was just gathering in the Castleteria for the Beauty Sleep Festival brunch. Apple and Raven hurried up to their room to change into pajamas.

  “We made it!” Apple said, taking off her glasses and putting them away in he
r desk.

  “Yeah,” said Raven. She pretended to smile.

  They entered the Castleteria together and paused in the threshold. Raven wasn’t sure what would happen now.

  “You can sit with us, Raven,” said Apple, gesturing toward the table full of princesses.

  “Another time,” said Raven. “I should join Maddie.”

  After so many hours together, it felt strange to walk away from Apple.

  “Wait,” said Apple. She grabbed Raven and gave her a fierce hug. “I know you’ll do the right thing. I’m so happy we’re truly friends now. Our story is safe!”

  Raven patted Apple’s back. “I’m happy to be your friend, too,” she said. But she couldn’t manage to be happy about much else. Her hopes for a fresh page were ripped, her future looming like a heavy tome above her head.

  But she watched Apple join Briar and Blondie and felt relieved that at least Apple’s Happily Ever After was definite.

  “Hello, my beamish friend!” said Maddie, giving Raven a huge hug. “I’ve been missing you.”

  Raven hugged her and felt as if she got a little missing piece of herself back.

  “Well, I slept like a log!” said Cedar.

  “What a catnap,” said Kitty Cheshire, passing by with her tray of cheese, sardines, and a bowl of milk. She somehow managed to keep her constant smile even when yawning.

  Cerise’s yawn took over half her face and showed all her teeth. On her tray was a plate of sausages with a side of sausages.

  “Hey, Cerise,” said Cedar.

  Cerise nodded and started for an empty table in the corner.

  “Oh, just sit with us,” said Raven. “We may be evil, mad, and wooden, but we’re not half bad.”

  Cerise hesitated but sat down. “I don’t think you’re half bad. I just… I don’t have very good table manners, so…”

  “We don’t mind,” said Maddie as she sat cross-legged on the tabletop.