The School for Good and Evil #2: A World without Princes (13 page)

But had her friend fallen under the spell? Had she started to believe in the same fantasy she once mocked?

Sophie's stomach sank. Had she and Agatha
switched places
?

“She wants to see him,” Sophie said softly.

The Dean's face hardened, and she shunted Sophie behind the stairwell as girls streamed by. “If she kisses him, all is lost.”

“She'd never kiss him—not if it means losing me—”

“She
wished
for him,” the Dean pressed, gripping Sophie close. “Wishes are borne of the soul, Sophie. Deny them, and they only grow stronger.”

Sophie's insides went cold.

Leaning in, the Dean took her cheeks into her gilded nails. “She's not the girl you knew, Sophie. There is a thorn in her heart. And it has to be
cut out
.”

Sophie nestled into the Dean's shoulder. “I just want my friend back,” she rasped.

“And you will, when her prince is dead.” The Dean stroked her hair. “You'll stay together always. No boy between you, ever again.”

Sophie's eyes misted. She wanted to hide in the Dean's arms forever. “Tell me what to do.”

“Keep them apart,” the Dean said, pulling away sharply. “Make Tedros fight us. When he does, you and your army will be ready.”

“But I—I don't want to fight—” Sophie stammered, feeling warts burn as if they were there. “I—I want to be Good now—”

“And let your friend kiss her prince?” the Dean said, glaring at her. “Let her banish you to an ordinary life in a world of no consequence?” She edged closer. “Friendless . . . loveless . . . forgotten?”

Sophie's voice left her.

“Wasn't that your mother's ending?” the Dean asked, closer still. Her lips grazed Sophie's ear. “And what became of
her
?”

Sophie lost all color.

A hand grabbed hers and she shrieked in surprise—

“Don't worry!” Beatrix chimed to the Dean, dragging Sophie away. “I'll show her the room and her uniform and her schedule!” She put her arm around Sophie and yanked her down the hall. “Can you believe we once fought over a
boy
?”

Speechless, Sophie glanced back at the Dean against the wall mural, who was smiling at her like a mother to child. As she receded into the hall's darkness, the last Sophie saw was her emerald eyes, blending into the ones of her own painted face, haloed above a princeless world.

A world where her best friend would never betray her again.

Sophie gritted her teeth.

As long as Agatha didn't kiss Tedros, they had a chance.

Agatha sat on the edge of the tub in dazed silence, knocking a soap bar to the floor. All she could think about was where she would be right now if she hadn't made the wish.

Her mother would be stewing lunch . . . garlic and liver, and the smell from the cauldron would mix with the ashy wind's, seeping through broken windows. On her bed, she'd be rushing to finish her grammar homework, due at afternoon lesson. Curled in a corner, Reaper would hiss at her, but a little less than yesterday. As she slurped up the last of the stew, she'd hear the weeds crackle, the soft humming . . . the glass heels on the porch . . . “Walk to school?” Sophie'd say. They'd amble down the hill in their black and pink winter coats, cracking jokes about the barn-smelling boys in their class. “Let them try to marry us,” Sophie would say, and she would laugh, because once upon a time, it was true. They had each other and would never need more.

“How could I ruin it?” she said, voice breaking. She looked up at the three girls. “How could I wish for him?”

“Because you're a princess, Agatha.” Hester's face softened for the first time. “And no matter how much you fight it . . . you want a prince.”

Agatha swallowed the knot in her throat. She looked up at Anadil, who nodded next to Hester and waited for Dot to concur.

She didn't.

The two witches shot her with sparks.

“Ow! Okay,
fine
!” Dot moped, munching on star-shaped celery. “Even if it means I go back to Evil and be fat and have no friends again!”

Agatha shook her head. “Look, Sophie just has to forgive me and everything will be—”

“
Forgive
you?” Hester cackled. “Her faithful Agatha, soiled by the boy once
hers
. . . and you expect the Witch of Woods Beyond to
forgive
? Oh please. Inside, Sophie wants you cut up in little pieces.”

“You don't get it,” Agatha said hotly. “Sophie's changed—she's Good—”

Even Anadil's rats snickered. “She's a Never, Agatha,” Dot said. “No matter how much you love her, no matter how much you try to change her, Sophie will end Evil and alone.”

“And not Class Captain,” Hester mumbled.

Anadil kneeled in front of Agatha. “You will never mean your wish for Sophie, Agatha. Because you and Sophie will never be happy in your world.” For once, Anadil's red eyes looked human. “You'll always end up back here again, wishing for your prince. And Sophie will always be the witch, keeping you and him apart . . . until you kiss Tedros.” Her cold, white hand took Agatha's wrist. “Don't you see? Your wish was
right
.”

Agatha sat on the tub in silence. It was as if she was caught in another riddle. And once again, only a School Master had the answer. This time, Sophie couldn't come with her.

“I have to see Tedros alone,” she said quietly.

Dot nodded. “It's the only way you'll know if you're meant to be with him.”

“And what if I'm not?” asked Agatha, thinking of all the reasons she hated her prince right now. “What if I still want to go home with Sophie?”

“Then we'll help you,” Anadil groused.

Agatha thought of Sophie's face in Sader's office, lethal and ice cold. “But how do I see him without her knowing? We're in the same
room
.”

“Leave it to us,” said Hester, gnawing on the ends of her red-and-black hair. “But it has to be tonight. I can't survive another day of class.”

Agatha felt an odd relief, as if caught in a ferocious storm and suddenly given a glimpse of the eye. After all this, she would see Tedros. No matter what happened, there'd be hope after. A road to happiness. A choice made.

Hunched on the tub, she suddenly focused on the star-shaped bar of soap on the floor. She lifted her gaze to the star-shaped cucumber in Dot's hand.

“You'd think it'd be easier than chocolate,” Dot sighed, turning another soap into a turnip. “But for a while, everything just turned to gouda chees—” Anadil covered her mouth.

The girls tracked her wide eyes to a blue butterfly fluttering in through the smashed hole in the wall.

Agatha snorted. “It's just a butterf—”

Hester shot her with sparks from her finger and Agatha gasped in pain. The tattooed witch glowered at her, and with her red-lit finger, drew smoky words in the air . . .

She's listening.

Agatha shook her head, confused.

Hester and Anadil counted down on their fingers . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .

The bathroom door creaked open and a head poked through.

“There you are, Agatha,” the Dean said as the butterfly drifted back into her dress pattern. “Class starts in five minutes and you're not in uniform? Not the best way to start your first day.”

She flashed a black look at Hester and Anadil, as if this included their company. Her eyes drifted down to the hole in the wall behind them, which instantly filled in and repaired itself.

“Destruction of property is a rather
masculine
trait,” she said to the two witches, her tone glacial. Then she smiled approvingly at Dot. “I suggest you two learn from your roommate how to behave like women. Or you never know. The castle might teach you the same lesson it taught the
boys
.”

Hester and Anadil bowed their heads nervously, which made Agatha even more wary of the Dean. She remembered the odd feeling that she was eavesdropping during the Welcoming . . .

As a blue butterfly perched on Sophie's shoulder.

Agatha drew a breath. The butterfly in the Woods . . . the one in the Flowerground . . .

The Dean had been there all along, leading them here.

And she'd heard every word.

“Shall we, dear?” The Dean held open the door with long, sharp nails.

Muscles tensed, Agatha followed her out but kept her eyes pinned on the mirror, just in time to see Hester's reflection raise furious black eyes and mouth a last command.

“Tonight.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

“
W
e'll be late for your first challenge!” Beatrix frowned from the door, satchel of books in hand.

Sophie didn't move, glaring at Agatha.

“Now you want to
stay
?” she said leerily, perched on the middle bed in her school uniform, a crystal diadem glittering on her head. “You said it was
Evil
to stay.”

Back turned, Agatha stared at the painting splashed across the wall, once a pink vision of dashing princes kissing their princesses—now a life-size mural of her kissing Sophie back to life in a starburst of blue light.
I'm just seeing him. I'm not choosing him. I'm just . . .
seeing
him.

“What about seeing Tedros?” Sophie lashed, hearing the Dean's warning. “What about seeing your
prince
?”

Agatha didn't answer.

“Well?” Sophie pressed.

Agatha turned, pale limbs jutting from her uniform, diadem slipping down her hair. “I'm still here, aren't I?”

Sophie exhaled, the Dean's echo trickling away. Like the School Master, the Dean couldn't fathom the strength of their friendship. Agatha would never go to Tedros. They'd been through too much.

“You forgive me?” Agatha asked, surprised by Sophie's silence.

Sophie looked up, smiling to answer. But suddenly Sophie wasn't seeing Agatha anymore.

Suddenly all Sophie saw was the girl who'd wished for a boy. The girl who'd stabbed her in the back. The girl who'd ruined their Ever After.

An old fire of suspicion kindled inside.

Forgive her
, Sophie thought, fighting it.

But her muscles were clenching . . . her fists curling . . .

The Good forgive!

But now her heart swelled to a witch's rage—

With a gasp, Sophie flung off the bed and hugged Agatha, jostling her friend's tiara. “Oh Aggie, I forgive you! I forgive you for everything! I know you'd never go to him!”

Agatha reddened, averting her eyes. “What
is
this cursed thing?” she murmured, diadem now somehow in her mouth.

“Duh. Your Captain crowns,” Beatrix crabbed, foot tapping impatiently. “You were the top Ever when you left, and Sophie was the top Never.”

“Well, we're on the same side now,” Sophie beamed and gripped Agatha's hand.

Agatha felt her palm sweat and let go to grab a satchel of books from Beatrix.

“Your rankings start over today, though,” Beatrix said. “If we ever
get
to your first challenge.”

As Sophie followed Beatrix's bald head out, she glanced back at Agatha, examining the spines peeking from her satchel:

Men: The Savage Race

Happiness Without Boys

The Princess's Guide to Princelessness

“Ready for our new school?” Sophie smiled, holding open the door.

Agatha looked up and did her best to smile back.

Professor Anemone gave Agatha a loaded look as she trudged into her blue taffy-coated classroom for Debeautification without any of her usual manic flounce. Twenty girls straightened to attention in neat rows.

“This week we continue to debeautify everything a prince
expects
of his princess,” Professor Anemone huffed, bright-yellow gown devoid of the brassy jewels, feathered bustiers, soaring headdresses, and fur regalia she used to parade. The classroom too had been stripped of all her old Beautification flourishes, including her antique mirrored stations from Putzi, before-and-after portraits of her most improved students, and shelves upon shelves of grooming equipment. Now all that was left were the white fudge desks, a licorice chalkboard, and blue taffy walls watermarked with Sophie's smiling face and a marshmallow speech bubble:
Beauty Is a State of Mind!

“To review,” Professor Anemone grouched, flashing Agatha another blameful scowl, “first we debeautified diets as insidious plagues and encouraged a girl to eat anything her heart desires . . . even candy.”

Agatha coughed. Professor Anemone reviled candy so much she'd once punished her with two weeks of scrubbing dishes for eating it. Yet the Evergirls didn't seem at all fazed by this about-face. Indeed, Agatha noticed a few holes in Reena's fudge desk, and suddenly her plumper appearance was no longer a mystery.