The School for Good and Evil (25 page)

On the ground, Sophie dug her nails into earth and nosed forward a few inches.

Sensing her escape, the willows shed faster, paralyzing her muscles. Agatha flailed helplessly, dove beak whipping between Sophie and her hunters.

Panting, grunting, Sophie clawed herself through the last patch of willows, dirt turning to loamy petals beneath her. Exultant, she collapsed into big, blue flowers and inhaled their scent, reviving instantly. She shoved a tulip bud in her mouth, grabbed Agatha’s note from her pocket, finger glowing pink—

“FLORADORA FLEUR—”

She froze.

Across the Tulip Garden, Brone and Vex smiled back at her, two tiny white fish thrashing in their hands.

“That’s how you’re going to kill me?” Sophie snorted.
“Fish?”

“Wish Fish,” Brone corrected, fish turning black in their hands.

“And we wish to be Hench Captains,” Vex smirked.

The boys hurled the fish into the air—instantly they ballooned big as Sophie’s body and dove for her, snapping piranha teeth—

Petrified, Sophie closed her eyes, felt her finger burn—

Poof!
Her pink fox dodged the swollen fish, which careened off the ground like bouncing balls. Sophie sprinted for her life between them, paws slipping on tulips—

Faster! Need something faster!
Her finger glowed, ready to help.
Cheetah! Lion! Tiger!

Poof!
She was a slow pink warthog, waddling and farting. Sophie grunted in horror. The bouncy fish careened off a tree and lunged for her hide. She thrust out her glowing hoof, focused harder—

Poof!
She hurtled between them, a pink gazelle, and heard the fish crash into each other.

Sophie limped into a clearing, heaving for air. Faint wolf howls at the gates sent shudders through her fur. More enemies on the way.

Her big green eyes searched the dark sky for Agatha. Nothing but stars winking back at her.

She looked back down and jumped. Across the clearing, Tristan and Chaddick stood in the moonlight. Face ice cold, Tristan drew an arrow into his bow. Chaddick pulled his sword.

Sophie turned to run—

Reena blocked her escape. The Arabian princess whistled and two golden wolf dogs slunk into the clearing behind her, baring knife-sharp teeth.

Sophie spun to see Arachne skulk out of the trees, finger glowing. Two more Everboys drew arrows into their bows.

Legs quivering, Sophie’s pink gazelle stood surrounded, waiting for her white dove to rescue her.

“Now!” Chaddick screamed—

Boys unleashed arrows, Arachne stabbed her finger, two dogs lunged as Sophie thrust out her shaking pink paw, closed her eyes—

Arrows and curses sailed over her scaly rattlesnake head. Sophie hissed in relief, slithering towards the safety of trees . . . until a shadow cast over her.

Reena’s wolf dog pounced and grabbed her in its mouth.

Furious, Sophie felt her snake rattle burn pink—

Elephant buttocks crushed the dog’s head as Sophie stampeded out of the clearing, trunk trumpeting in terror. Everboy arrows slammed into her massive pink rump and she crumpled to the grass in pain. Sophie glanced back at ten hooded assassins and two chomping fish, bouncing right for her. Helplessly cornered, she raised her glowing elephant trunk—

Curses, arrows, swords, fish grazed her feathers as Sophie’s pink lovebird flapped into the air—

Screeching with triumph, she flew higher, higher, out of arrow reach, then saw the glint of flames at the barrier. Sophie recoiled in shock, only to feel something snare her wing. Slowly, a whip of water drew her towards a hooded figure in the Blue Brook.

Sophie shrieked for help, but then more whips ensnared her, pulling her through branches to her captor in the stream, who lashed the water with a glowing green finger. Slowly the waters delivered Sophie’s lovebird into ashen hands as the shadow pulled back its hood.

“You would have made a great witch, Sophie,” Anadil said, stroking her beak. “Even better than me.”

The lovebird gazed up at her with pleading eyes.

Anadil’s fingers crushed its tiny throat. The bird thrashed for breath, but Anadil pressed harder, and as Sophie’s eyes went dark, she knew the last thing she’d ever see was a flaming star fall majestically through sky, falling straight for the witch about to snap her neck—

In a flash, a burning dove thieved Sophie out of Anadil’s hands, into wings afire, and up through frigid sky.

As arrows tore through treetops, Agatha thrust out her glowing wingtip and arrows turned to daisies in the wind. She flew as long as she could on fire, Sophie clasped in her feet, then plunged into a dark pine glen and the birds smashed to the ground, tumbling over each other, snuffing out the flames.

Whimpering, Agatha struggled to make her charred wing glow. It flickered—she and Sophie instantly turned human, both paralyzed with pain. Sophie glimpsed Agatha’s bare arms, blistered with burns. Before Sophie could cry out, Agatha’s eyes widened and she circled her glowing orange fingertip around them—“
Floradora pinscoria!
”

They both turned to scrawny blue pine shrubs.

Anadil stormed into the glen with Arachne. They peered into the deserted patch.

“I told you they landed in the pumpkins,” Arachne said.

“Then lead the way,” said Anadil.

“Which of us gets to kill her?” Arachne said, turning—

Anadil stunned her with a lightning bolt. She stripped the red kerchief from Arachne’s pocket and threw it to the ground. Red sparks shot into the air and Arachne vanished into thin air.

“Me,” Anadil said.

Red eyes narrowed, she took one last long look around.

“Nick, I saw her over here!” called Chaddick, nearby.

Anadil smiled wickedly and headed in his direction.

In the dark, silent glen, two shrubs shivered side by side.

The night had just begun.

Outside the golden gates, the unchosen Evers and Nevers waited for Sophie’s name to vanish off the scoreboard like Kiko’s and Arachne’s. But as the hours passed and more names vanished—Nicholas, Mona, Tristan, Vex, Tarquin, Reena, Giselle, Brone, Chaddick, Anadil—Sophie’s stubbornly remained.

Had Sophie and Tedros united? What would their victory mean? A prince and witch . . .
together
?

As the hours passed, Good and Evil shared looks across the Clearing—first threatened . . . then curious . . . then hopeful . . . and before they knew it, they were drifting into each other’s sides, sharing blankets, crepes, and cherry grenadine. Evil thought it had corrupted Good and Good thought it had enlightened Evil, but it didn’t matter.

For two sides soon turned into one, cheering on the Prince-Witch revolution.

Inside the cold pine glen, two shrubs waited.

They waited through silence, split open by screams. They waited through sounds of classmates fighting enemies and betraying friends. They waited as something snared child after child with angry splashes in the Brook. They waited as drooling trolls stomped past them, brandishing bloodstained hammers. They waited as red and white sparks painted the sky, until only four competitors remained.

Then the Blue Forest went quiet for a very long time.

Hunger tore at their stomachs. Cold glazed their leaves with frost. Sleep attacked their senses. But the two plants stayed rooted still until the sky bruised blue. Sophie held her breath, willing the sun to break through . . .

Tedros limped into the glen.

He had no cloak, no sword, only a brutally dented shield. His tunic was torn to shreds, the silver swan on his bare chest gleaming against welts and blood. The prince gazed into the lightening sky. Then he crumpled against a skeletal pine, sniffling softly.

“
Corpadora volvera
,” Agatha whispered. “That’s the counterspell. Go to him!”

“When the sun comes up,” Sophie whispered back.

“He needs to know you’re okay!”

“He’ll know in a few more minutes.”

Tedros bolted straight. “Who’s there?”

His eyes moved to Agatha’s and Sophie’s shrubs. Someone stepped from their shadows.

Tedros backed against the tree.

“Where’s your witch?” Hester hissed, unscathed in a clean cloak.

“Safe,” Tedros said hoarsely.

“Ah, I see,” Hester smirked. “So much for your
team
.”

The prince tensed. “She knows I’m safe too. Otherwise she’d be here to fight with me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hester said, black eyes flashing.

“That’s what makes us Good, Hester. We trust. We protect. We love. What do you have?”

Hester smiled.
“Bait
.
”

She thrust out her glowing and red fingertip and the tattoo peeled off her neck, swelling with blood. Tedros backed up in shock as her demon engorged with blood, tighter, tighter, about to burst. Hissing an incantation, Hester’s eyes grayed and her skin lost all color. She sank to the ground in agony and howled in fury as if tearing her own soul apart. Then the demon’s body parts detached from each other . . . head, two arms, two legs.

Five fractured pieces, each one alive.

Tedros turned snow white.

The five demon pieces blasted towards him, conjuring daggers instead of fire bolts. He bludgeoned the stabbing head and leg with his shield, but an arm sank a dagger into his thigh. With a cry, he batted the arm away, pulled the knife out of his leg, and clawed up the only tree in the glen—

Agatha’s shrub whipped to Sophie—“Help him!”

“And end in five pieces?” Sophie shot back.

“He needs you!”

“He needs me to be safe!”

A demon leg hurled a knife at the prince’s head and he jumped just in time to a higher branch. The other four limbs ripped toward him, daggers raised—

Trapped, he glanced down at Hester, weak on her knees, directing the demon fragments with a glowing finger. Tedros’ eyes widened, spotting something through the leaves.

Red silk. In her boot.

The fragments unleashed five knives point-blank, all aimed for his organs. Just as they pierced his shirt, he jumped out of the tree and landed on his wrist with a sickening crack.

Hester saw him scraping towards her. She circled her finger savagely, bringing the demon parts back around with new knives. Tedros held her glare as he crawled towards her. Sneering, Hester raised her finger high and the demon limbs coiled back to kill him. This time there would be no mistake. She roared and the knives stabbed down—the prince lunged for her boot—

Hester’s mouth opened in horror as Tedros pinned her red handkerchief to the ground. The knives clinked limply to dirt and the demon parts vanished. Then Hester vanished too, eyes shocked wide.

Tedros collapsed on his back. Heaving for breath, he squinted into the pink sky. The sun was coming.

“Sophie,” he croaked.

He took a deep breath.

“SOPHIE!”

Agatha’s leaves drooped in relief. Then she saw Sophie’s shrub pruning its leaves.

“What are yo—
Go
, you fool!”

“Agatha, I don’t have
clothes.
”

“At least call to him so he know—” Agatha stopped.

On the ground, a demon arm hadn’t fully vanished. It was flickering in midair, willing itself to stay.

Then it slunk over the grass and picked a knife off the ground.

“Sophie—Sophie, go—”

“Sun will be up any minute—”

“Sophie, go!”

Sophie’s shrub swiveled and saw the knife rise over Tedros’ shoulder. She gasped and hid her eyes—

The blade plunged. Tedros saw it hit his heart too late.

A shield suddenly smashed the arm down. With a screech, the demon limb shriveled and disappeared.

Dazed, Tedros stared at the shallow wound in his chest muscle, the bloody knife on his sternum. He looked up at Agatha, covering her body with his shield.

“Still haven’t figured out the clothes bit,” she mumbled.

Tedros leapt to his feet in shock. “But . . . you’re not even in . . . what are you . . .”

He saw a shrub quivering behind her. Tedros stabbed his glowing gold fingertip—“
Corpadora volvera!
” Sophie fell forward and hid her body behind a shrub—

“Agatha, I need clothes! Teddy, could you turn around?”

Tedros shook his head. “But the library—that book . . . You
did
cheat!”

“Teddy, we
had
to. . . . Agatha,
help
!”

Agatha pointed her seared, glowing finger at Sophie to wrap her in vines but Tedros stayed her hand.

“You said you’d fight with me!” he cried, eyes locked on Sophie behind the shrub. “You said you’d have my back!”

“I knew you’d be fine—Agatha,
please
—”

“You lied!” he said, voice breaking. “Everything you said was a lie! You were using me!”

“That’s not true, Tedros! No princess would risk her own life! Even your truest love—”

Tedros glowered, red hot. “Then why did
she
?”

Sophie followed the prince’s eyes to Agatha, raw with burns.

Agatha saw Sophie’s eyes slowly widen, as if discovering a knife stabbed into her back. But just as Agatha tried to defend herself, sunlight exploded into the glen and washed her body in gold.

Wolves howled at the gates. Sounds of children and footsteps thundered through the Forest.

“They did it!”

“They won!”

“Sophie and Tedros won!”

Bodies burst into the glen. Panicked, Agatha lit up her finger and her dove flew away just as students flooded into view—

“Ever and Never!” shouted one.

“Witch and prince!” shouted another.

“All hail Sophie and Ted—”

The Forest went quiet.

From a tree, Agatha looked down at the unchosen Evers and Nevers surge in, then the fallen competitors, healed and cleaned by magic—all frozen as they took in the scene.

Sophie cowering behind a bush. Tedros glaring down at her, eyes on fire.

And they knew there would never be peace.

Evers and Nevers shifted apart, enemies eternal.

Neither side could hear the laughter from the tower, half shadowed, lording over them all.