“Good morning,” the princesses replied as they took their places in the grandstand at the edge of the athletic field. The field itself had been transformed. There were all sorts of strange objects and people standing in the middle of it. What was going on?
Duchess and Lizzie sat on a bench. Ashlynn Ella and Apple White sat on another. Other students included Briar Beauty, daughter of Sleeping Beauty; Darling Charming, sister to Daring; and Poppy and Holly O’Hair, daughters of Rapunzel. Blondie Lockes was there, too, even though she’d never proved her royal heritage. And, of course, last but not least, sitting solo, was Raven Queen.
“What in Ever After are we doing out here?” Briar asked as she pulled down her ever-present pair of crownglasses to shield her eyes.
“It’s so very sunny,” Apple chirped. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and began to apply it to her arms so thickly it looked like she was frosting a cake. “I’m called the Fairest One of All because I’m literally the fairest.”
“Taking care of your skin is a very princess thing to do,” Mrs. Her Majesty said approvingly. Then she clapped her hands. “Now, ladies, we are outside because our lesson cannot be taught in a classroom.”
“I’m so glad we’re outside today,” Ashlynn Ella said. A pair of songbirds were weaving a braid in her hair. “Are we going to take a walk in the woods? A deer told me that a new family of raccoons has moved in. Shall we go and visit them?”
Mrs. Her Majesty made a tsk-tsk sound. “Ms. Ella, my dear, I appreciate your love of the woodland creatures, but a princess should never socialize with rodents. Alice made this mistake when she befriended the March Hare and the Dormouse.”
“Raccoons aren’t rodents,” Ashlynn said.
“But of course they are. How very silly of you not to know that.” Mrs. Her Majesty gave Ashlynn a pitiful look. “A masked face does not hide the rodent nature that lies inside.”
Duchess wondered if she might make raccoons part of her rotten and nasty plan.
Mrs. Her Majesty clapped her hands again. “Young ladies, the purpose of Princessology is to prepare you, the next generation of royal damsels, for your futures as queens. Therefore, we will be learning a variety of important skills. One of the most important is how to travel like a princess.”
“Oooh, I love to travel. Where are we going?”
“My family has a private pumpkin.”
“I took a mermaid cruise once. That was amazing!”
“Have you ever chartered a Pegasus? That is seriously awesome.”
“Ladies, please do not interrupt. Interrupting is not becoming of a princess.” Mrs. Her Majesty pursed her thin lips. “We teach traditional values here at Ever After High. And the most traditional way to travel is on horseback. A princess should therefore be a skilled equestrian.”
Some of the princesses groaned, including Lizzie. “I don’t want to ride a horse,” she announced. “They never obey my orders. The last time I rode one, it kept stopping to eat my mother’s roses.”
“Riding on horseback offers its advantages, Ms. Hearts. It protects you from stepping in unpleasant things and thus keeps your dainty slippers clean and tidy.”
Lizzie folded her arms. “My mother never steps in anything unpleasant. She orders her card soldiers to chop everything down and sweep a clear path wherever she goes. And that’s what I’m going to do, too.”
“That sounds like a hexcellent plan, Ms. Hearts, but in the meantime, as this is not Wonderland, and you are not yet queen, you will attend to your duties here at Ever After High. And one of those duties is mastering your equestrian skills.”
Lizzie grumbled to herself. Duchess wished that time would move faster. She was eager to end this class so she could begin to work on her Villainy plan.
Mrs. Her Majesty the White Queen pointed into the field. “Behind me is your obstacle course. Today we will practice riding through it. And on Friday you will be tested on your skills. This thronework assignment is very important in your paths to becoming perfect princesses.” She smiled.
“Friday?” both Duchess and Lizzie blurted.
Blondie Lockes grabbed her MirrorPad, pressed the record button, and shot over to their bench. “News flash. Duchess, Lizzie, and Raven now face two major thronework assignments, both due this Friday. How does that make you feel? Are you feeling stressed?”
“The only thing making me stressed is you,” Lizzie said, pushing the MirrorPad away from her face.
Duchess felt as if a thick, smothering blanket had just been flung over her. Two huge assignments both due by the week’s end. She glanced at Raven, who sat with her feet on the bench, her arms wrapped around her legs. Raven looked back at Duchess, her jaw clenched. Was she also feeling the pressure?
It would be so easy for Raven to win Next Top Villain. She already possessed magic, though her spells often backfired. But if she put her mind to it, she could conjure storm clouds and flood the school, or summon a flock of ravens to poop on everyone’s heads. She simply had to choose to not be a Rebel.
A Rebel, like Duchess.
Chapter 13
Horse Course
The horses were led from the stable and out to the grandstand. Each wore a saddle that matched a princess’s signature colors. Duchess’s was white and black with lavender accents.
Duchess knew how to ride. Her balance was impeccable, and she thought of the relationship between the rider and the horse as a sort of pas de deux. That was, until she discovered how easily horses startle. At age nine, she’d been out for a ride and a pair of trumpeters had flown overhead, approaching the pond for a landing. Her horse had reared, and she’d been thrown. Luckily no bones were broken and she’d been able to dance the next day. But Duchess never forgot the horse’s kicking back legs and its fearful whinny. Though she mastered her equestrian skills, she never fully trusted the creatures again.
The princesses were introduced to their horses. Raven’s was jet-black and larger than the others. Its eyes were as red as burning embers. “Uh, my horse looks kinda evil,” Raven said nervously. It stomped its front hoof as if agreeing.
Ashlynn started making snorting sounds as she talked to her horse. Then, both she and the horse started laughing.
Apple fed her horse a red apple, which she just happened to have in her book bag. And everyone else patted her horse’s head and said hello.
Duchess ran a hand over her horse’s silky mane. “As long as you don’t toss me off your back, we’ll get along just fine,” she told it.
“Ladies,” Mrs. Her Majesty called. She was already seated on a beautiful white horse. She held a riding crop in one hand and a megaphone in the other. “Mount your horses, and I shall lead you through the obstacle course. And remember, a princess always rides sidesaddle.”
It took Lizzie five tries before she could sit on the saddle and not fall off. “Why can’t we play croquet?” she asked, wobbling. “Somebody make this horse stand still!”
Although Duchess had no trouble getting on the horse, she was having a difficult time paying attention. I need a rotten and nasty plan.
Mrs. Her Majesty led the princesses toward the field. She spoke into her megaphone. “This is the starting point.” A sign read: START HERE. “You will then follow the golden path.” She pointed to the ground where a path had been created out of gold-colored sawdust. “Stay to this path until you reach the end, and you will succeed. Veer off the path, and you will fairy-fail.” With a flick of her riding crop, she moved up the path until she reached some people. “Your first obstacle will be an adoring crowd.” A group of villagers stood in a clump. They weren’t actual villagers. Duchess recognized a few of them from the Castleteria kitchen. But they were dressed in costumes and held bouquets of flowers and autograph books. They cheered as the princesses neared. “Always wave and smile.” Mrs. Her Majesty demonstrated.
“This is easy,” Holly O’Hair said. “I’m used to being up high and waving at people.”
Duchess also thought it was easy, but
Lizzie was wobbling in the saddle and holding on to the reins for dear life.
Mrs. Her Majesty led them to another group of people. “Next, you will be greeted by an angry crowd.” The costumed “villagers” were now holding rakes and baskets of rotten fruit, which they proceeded to toss.
“Hey!” Lizzie said. “Stop that! I order you to stop that!”
“Why are they throwing things?” Apple said as a mold-covered strawberry whizzed past her head. “My subjects would never be angry with me. I love each and every one of them.” It was well known that the people in Apple White’s kingdom wore I APPLE shirts.
“A princess must always be prepared,” Mrs. Her Majesty said as she kicked her horse into a canter. “One never knows which way the wind may blow. One day you’re beloved, the next day you’re despised.”
One day you’re a Royal, the next day you’re a Rebel, Duchess thought as she wiped a piece of pear from her face.
And so it went. The princesses followed Mrs. Her Majesty the White Queen as she led them around the obstacle course, instructing them on the proper procedure. There were heaps of dragon dung to avoid. There was a moat to cross and an old crone to ignore.
They came to a bridge that was guarded by a cranky troll. Tiny, a giant, had dug a deep ravine beneath the bridge, and the troll threatened to push anyone who tried to cross. When he blocked Lizzie’s path, she bonked him on the head with her scepter.
“Dear, oh dear, Ms. Hearts. That is not the correct way to deal with a troll bridge,” Mrs. Her Majesty said. “A princess never defends herself. You must always call for a prince to rescue you.”
“I was going to jump the ravine, but okay,” Briar said. She stopped her horse in front of a tree, upon which hung a red phone. EMERGENCY PRINCE PATROL. Briar picked up the receiver. “Yes, hello, there’s this troll guy here and he’s guarding this bridge, and I need to get across it.” She listened, then put down the receiver. “Um, the prince on duty says he’s in the middle of downloading the latest version of Dragon Conquest Sixteen, and he can’t leave or he’ll have to start all over again.”
Mrs. Her Majesty scowled. “That is unacceptable. Give me that phone!” She yanked it from Briar’s hand and began to give the unfortunate prince a very stern lecture about his duties.
The princesses took this opportunity to dismount and stretch their legs. With her horse in tow, Blondie slid right up next to Duchess. “So, Duchess, are you worried about having two major assignments due on Friday? Will you be able to keep up your perfect grades? Is there anything you’d like to say to the Just Right audience?”
“I’m not worried,” Duchess lied. “I know how to ride a horse.”
“Yes, but do you know how to be evil?” Blondie’s golden horse matched her golden hair. It turned its head and sniffed Duchess’s face in a real snoopy way. “Are you thinking of dropping out of the Next Top Villain competition?” Blondie held up her MirrorPad, waiting for the answer. The horse raised its eyebrows, as if also waiting.
“I don’t drop out of things,” Duchess said calmly. “So there’s no scoop here, Blondie.”
“Why are you in General Villainy class, anyway?” Blondie asked. “Everyone knows you don’t have evil in your bloodline. Is there some sort of secret that you’re hiding from the rest of us?” She put her face close to Duchess’s. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got some royally serious competition. I mean, you’re going up against Raven. If she donated blood, the packet would be labeled Type Evil.”
Duchess was about to tell Blondie that no one had asked her opinion, but a loud screeching sound arose from the forest, as if a giant were scratching his nails on a humongous chalkboard. Which was possible.
The horses went berserk, neighing and kicking their back legs. Only Mrs. Her Majesty the White Queen was still mounted, and she expertly slid off the saddle, the Prince Patrol phone left dangling from the tree. The horses galloped back toward the stable. “What-ever-after is that wretched noise?” she asked.
“It’s Sparrow Hood,” Raven said. “He’s playing his guitar.” The screeching continued.
“That is not muse-ic to my ears,” Mrs. Her Majesty said. “The horses are stampeding! Someone must tell him to stop.”
“I’ll do it,” Duchess volunteered. It occurred to her that Blondie was right. If Raven set her mind to it, she’d win Next Top Villain in a heartbeat. Duchess needed help. “I’ll go tell Sparrow to stop playing.”
She didn’t care whether or not Sparrow played his muse-ic. But he had made her an offer. And since she’d come up with nothing better, perhaps it was time to discuss a partnership. Duchess raced toward the forest.
“Tell young Mr. Hood that I intend to file a complaint!” Mrs. Her Majesty hollered through the megaphone. “Princesses have extremely delicate eardrums.”
As soon as Duchess had entered the forest and was out of view, she closed her eyes and took to the sky.
Chapter 14
Hood’s House
Even though Sparrow’s tree house was hidden deep in the woods, it was easy for Duchess to find—all she had to do was follow the muse-ic. If it could be called muse-ic. It sounded as if he were torturing his guitar strings.
She dove between branches, landing in a clearing. Because the trees grew so thick in this part of the forest, she’d have to walk on foot the rest of the way.
The screeching grew louder and louder. A pair of deer raced past, trying to outrun the noise. Flocks of birds shot out of the treetops, desperately making their escape.
And there it was, a tree house like no other she’d seen, perched at the tops of two massive fir trees. It had been built from a hodgepodge of materials—old doors and window frames, leftover siding from barns and cabins. There was even a hull from an old boat. Duchess began to climb the wooden staircase that wound around and around one of the trunks. Sparrow didn’t live in the dormitory with the other boy students. He’d claimed this space as his own. He was an outsider who didn’t seem to care about fitting in. He didn’t care about grades or hexpectations or any of the stuff that ruled her days. Sparrow Hood cared about his muse-ic. And himself. Which was why she would need to proceed carefully.
A bow and a quiver of arrows hung from a hook at the entry. An envelope with a wax seal sat on the faded welcome mat. Sparrow had gotten the same letter from Headmaster Grimm, but he hadn’t read it yet. She picked it up. “Hello?” she called. Guitar sounds blasted from the open doorway. He’d never hear her above the racket, so she stepped inside. The floorboards vibrated.
Sparrow was standing on a small stage, a microphone perched on a stand. His guitar was plugged into an amp. He strummed furiously, and Duchess thought her eardrums might start bleeding.
“Hello?” She picked up a pillow and threw it at him.
The pillow bounced off his guitar, and he stopped playing. “Hey,” he said, pulling earphones off his head and tossing them aside. “What’s up? Did you come here to buy my demo?”
She stepped across the faded rug. The decor was what some might call rocker. She would never want to live in such a mess. The beanbag chairs were patched and faded, and the old couch leaked stuffing. Soda cans and latte cups lay everywhere, as did a thick coat of dust. Sparrow desperately needed an army of cleaning fairies.
“Mrs. Her Majesty the White Queen sent me to tell you to stop playing,” Duchess told him. “You’re disturbing the horses.”
“Horses?” He frowned. “Since when do I care about horses? I’m practicing my art.”
“I know, but not everyone appreciates your… art,” Duchess said. She handed him the envelope. “It’s from Headmaster Grimm.”
“So?” He slumped onto the couch and stretched out his legs, resting his bare feet on a wooden crate that served as a table.
“You should read it,” she said. “It’s important.”
He groaned, then broke the seal and read the letter from the headmaster. “Blah, blah, blah,” he said. “He wants us to become villains because our fairytale lives n
eed villains. Yadda, yadda, yadda.” He crumpled the parchment and tossed it over his shoulder. “Why’d you come here? Anyone could have told me that my muse-ic is too loud.”
She pushed aside some empty chip bags and sat on the edge of the couch. “I came here to talk to you,” she told him.
“About?” He smiled wickedly.
She frowned. “About our thronework assignment. About winning this Next Top Villain thing. About us working together—maybe working together. I still need to think about it.”
He folded his arms behind his head. “What’s to think about? You want the grade and the title. I just want a piece of treasure from Mr. Badwolf’s vault. If I knew how to unravel security passwords, I’d break in and steal a couple of those golden arrows myself.”
Duchess glanced around the tree house, to make sure none of Sparrow’s Merry Men band members was hanging out. She and Sparrow appeared to be alone. “I heard the headmaster talking to Mr. Badwolf. He put me in the class because he thinks I have a black swan side to me.”
“That surprised you?”
“Don’t you get it? He thinks I have potential to take Raven’s place.” Her mouth suddenly felt dry. Sharing her feelings with Sparrow was risky, but she needed someone to talk to. He wasn’t a Royal, so he wouldn’t judge her the way the other Royals might, including Lizzie. “He said that if I got an A in General Villainy, and then moved on to Advanced Villainy, I’d have a chance to learn magic.”
“And with magic, you could change your cruddy destiny.”
Her eyes welled with tears. Hearing someone else say it made it feel even more real.
“Well, if I were you and I had to choose between being a duck for the rest of my life or being a human, I’d choose human, obviously. Because a duck cannot play the guitar.”
“Swan,” she corrected as she wiped a stray tear.
“Seems to me we need to win this thing so you can always be a girl and I can get my treasure.” Sparrow walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of fairycherry sodas from the fridge. He handed her one, then plopped down next to her on the couch. After a long sip, he wiped his mouth with his hand and said, “What’s our plan?”