by Shannon Hale
The door opened as if by wind, blowing out candles. In came Raven.
“Whoops, sorry,” said Raven, trying to grab the door before it slammed into the wall. “That’s new.”
Melody Piper stopped the music with a scratch. The birds swallowed their song. The Common Room became uncommonly quiet. Some students rubbed their arms as if they felt a chill.
“Oh, calm down,” said Apple. “It’s just Raven.”
“Yeah, come on! Party time!” said Briar.
Melody Piper started playing music again, but the birds didn’t join in. Briar reached up and nudged a bird with her finger, trying to get it to sing. The bird clapped its beak shut and shook its head, keeping one round eye trained on Raven.
“Hey, maybe I should just go.…” Raven started to turn.
“Nonsense!” said Apple, taking her by the arm and pulling her farther into the room. “You are my roommate and my friend. You are most certainly welcome. Everyone, be nice!”
The mood seemed to relax. Apple nodded, satisfied. She believed there was almost nothing a few encouraging words and a warm smile couldn’t fix. Even back in nursery-rhyme school, Apple had had to scold the other children for being a bit hard on the Evil Queen’s daughter. But this year—their Legacy Year—things were becoming more intense. Despite her mother, Raven had always been a nice girl. Yes, she would grow up to poison and rampage and try to destroy all happiness, but that was no reason not to be civil. And it was Apple’s job as president of the Royal Student Council to set an example of civility.
“You look bewitching tonight, Raven,” said Apple.
“Really?” Raven whispered. “Then why is everyone looking at me like I’m some warty toad?”
“Hey!” said Hopper Croakington, who happened to be passing by.
“Sorry, Hopper,” said Raven.
Apple took Raven by the arm and walked her to the refreshment table, where Duchess Swan was sampling a cup of whipped air. Duchess had expressed an interest in running for president, too. Apple was sure she could count on her to be an example-setter.
“Duchess, say hello to Raven,” said Apple.
Duchess stared at Raven with dark, unblinking eyes. “Hello,” she said flatly.
“Hey, Duchess,” said Raven. Then to Apple, “I really don’t need to stay. I’ll just go say hi to Maddie and—”
“Nonsense,” said Apple. “You have every right to be here.”
Duchess smoothed her feathered skirt and looked down her thin nose at Raven. “I don’t usually hang out with commoners.”
“Not that such things matter, Duchess,” said Apple, “but Raven is the daughter of a queen—”
“An Evil Queen.” A playful light danced in Duchess’s eyes. “Looking forward to that, are you, Raven? Pretending to be nice all the time must be exhausting. I’ll bet you can’t wait to sign that book and embrace your future already.”
“Not really,” said Raven.
Apple started to suspect chatting with Duchess wasn’t helping matters. She took Raven’s hand and tried to move her away, but the Common Room was crowded and she bumped into Lizzie Hearts.
“Excuse me,” said Apple.
“Off with her head!” replied the Queen of Hearts’s daughter. “Did that sound commanding enough? I’ve been practicing.”
Her pet hedgehog leaped from her shoulder, curled up, and rolled into the crowd, and Lizzie chased after him, shouting, “Step not on my pet or I shall call an army down on your heads!”
“Now there’s a future villain who doesn’t pretend,” said Duchess, nodding at Lizzie Hearts. “She’s destined to be an Evil Queen, and she owns it. Why are you so afraid to own it, Raven?”
“Back off, Duchess,” said Raven. “Your story doesn’t end any better than mine.”
The feathers on Duchess’s cap bristled. “At least I’m not a villain,” said the daughter of the Swan Queen.
“At least my greatest ambition isn’t to fall in love with a prince, only to lose him at The End.”
“Now, you two, this is a party,” Apple said as sugary and warm as fresh cobbler. Neither of them looked at her.
“Oh, wait, maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe you actually believe you are nice.” Duchess tilted her head, looking at Raven with an expression of mock concern. “You poor, sweet child. Did your daddy lie to you when you were just a wee little hatchling? Did he promise you that you had a ‘good heart’ and that if you wanted, you could grow up to be just as nice and stupid and boring as he is?”
Apple held her breath. Her face burned. Not at Duchess’s rudeness—Apple knew that Duchess desperately wanted a Happily Ever After, and any reminder that she wasn’t getting one always ruffled her feathers. No, the heat was coming from Raven’s hand, which had suddenly become hot. Summer-pavement hot. Four-and-twenty-blackbirds-baked-in-a-pie hot.
“Raven…” Apple said, carefully letting go of Raven’s hand.
But Raven was staring at Duchess, her hands curling into fists. Duchess took a step back, the feathers on her cap wilting. Her expression said she knew she’d gone too far.
“Don’t,” Raven breathed. “Ever,” she whispered. “Talk,” she muttered. “About,” she said. “My father!” she shouted. “Ever! After! Again!”
Apple ducked, putting her arms over her head, just as a swoosh of hot energy exploded from Raven. Fortunately for the partygoers, the magic burst upward. Unfortunately for the birds, it hit them dead on. The gold wires hanging from the ceiling swung wildly, and the birds were no longer birds. Fat, shiny snakes now clung to the wires with clumsy tails. They began to hiss. In alarmed unison.
Someone screamed.
The snakes couldn’t hold on and began dropping down. Some landed on the marble floor with wet slaps. But most landed on people’s heads and shoulders. More people screamed. The birds-turned-snakes were by nature afraid of snakes. They began to writhe about frantically trying to get away from one another, knocking over lamps and statues, the ones on the tables upsetting candlesticks and cups of whipped air. Invisible food splattered everywhere. Snoof Piddle-dee-do let out terrified oinks and charged through the crowd, desperate for any exit.
“Quiet down, please,” Apple said. She tried to hum a calming sort of tune. But no one could hear her over all that screaming.
“It’s the Evil Queen!”
“She’s turning everyone into snakes!”
“Run for your lives!”
Snakes and people alike were trying to flee, but it was Raven herself who was the first one out the door.
Apple stayed behind to console Briar and help clean up the party. Duchess even volunteered to turn into her swan form, fly to Baba Yaga’s cottage, and ask the dark sorcery instructor to come change the snakes back to birds.
By the time Apple returned to her dorm, Raven was in bed, her pillow (with a goblin-face pillowcase) over her head. Apple had bought the goblin-face sheet set for Raven. She’d hoped having evil items in her room would make her feel more at home.
Apple put a hand on her back. “Raven—”
“Please leave me alone,” Raven whispered.
“Everything will be okay,” Apple said. “It really will.”
High school could be challenging at times, but life would be as Happy-Ever-After as it was supposed to be. Apple believed that from the tip of her casual-wear tiara down to her white faux-leather booties. She just wished Raven could believe it, too.
NO MAGIC, NO MAGIC, RAVEN REMINDED herself over and over as she rushed from her dorm room out of the castle. After last night’s disaster at Briar’s party, she’d skipped breakfast in order to lie low. But there would be no skipping the Legacy Day practice. And there was no way to be inconspicuous in a high-collared purple top and black netting skirt. Curses, but why didn’t she own any plain, boring clothes?
On the east terrace of the castle, Headmaster Grimm was already standing atop the pedestal. The white stone monstrosity was two stories high with red stone stairs on both sides. Just the sight of it
made Raven shiver.
Stop being such a nursery rhyme, Raven scolded herself. You are the future Evil Queen, so get over it, already, and don’t waste any more of your teenage years worrying about it.
“And though Legacy Day is still a few weeks away, I want you well prepared,” Milton Grimm was saying. “It is an Ever After High tradition during Orientation Week for our second-year students to climb these storied stairs, stand at this fabled podium, and practice declaring your destiny. On the actual Legacy Day, when you say your name, your magical key will appear. You will insert it into the Storybook of Legends and turn it thirty degrees clockwise. Then stand, shoulders back, and declare your destiny to the world. Though, of course, we won’t practice with the actual Storybook of Legends. Today”—he slapped onto the podium a thick book—“we’ll be using a book of entirely reasonable school rules.”
Maddie showed no concern as she bounded up the stairs for her turn. “I’m Madeline Hatter, and I pledge to follow the destiny of dear old Dad… the Mad Hatter of Wonderland!” She pulled a cup of hot tea from her Hat of Many Things. “Done! Teatime?”
Hunter Huntsman was next. He threw back his broad shoulders as he declared, “I pledge to follow my destiny as the next Huntsman and to save Snow White and Red Riding Hood.”
In line beside Raven, Ashlynn Ella moaned sadly. Raven perked up. Could it be that there were others like her who were less than excited to sign? No, that was wishful thinking. After all, as the next Cinderella, Ashlynn was guaranteed a Happily Ever After.
“It is I, Prince Daring Charming, eldest son of King Charming!” The prince had a lean, athletic build and hair so blond it was almost white. He smiled, his white teeth twinkling, and Raven heard several girls sigh. “I pledge to be the heroic prince who saves the fair Snow White!”
Apple waved at Daring from the crowd. Daring winked.
Daring’s lanky brother Dexter, just nine months younger, jogged up the stairs, stumbling on the top step.
“Don’t worry, little brother,” said Daring, grabbing Dexter around the neck and rubbing his knuckles into his hair. “Learning to climb stairs is tough. You’ll get the hang of it!”
“Hey!” Dexter said as if offended, though he was smiling.
He grabbed his older brother in turn, and, laughing, they each tried to pull the other to the ground. Raven suspected this good-natured wrestling match had gone on throughout the brothers’ entire lives.
“Your Highnesses, please,” said the headmaster.
Daring let go and leaped down the steps, taking three at a time. Dexter straightened his thick black glasses and tried to smooth his brown hair, but a stubborn front cowlick sent it sticking back up again.
“Hi,” Dexter said at the podium, his dimples showing. “Um, I’m Dexter Charming.… Well, I should use my full name, right? Ahem. I am Dexterous Charming, another son of King Charming, and I pledge my destiny to be… well, to be one of those Prince Charmings who saves princesses.… But, Headmaster, can I ask a question? I’ve never been clear about which story is my destiny.…”
“Gallant princes are needed in many stories,” said the headmaster through a megaphone from below the pedestal. “On the actual Legacy Day, when you make your pledge, the Storybook of Legends will show you your destined story.”
“On Legacy Day? Oh, okay. I’ve waited my whole life to know. I guess another few weeks isn’t so bad.”
Raven watched several more students practice their oaths and tried to psych herself up. But when it was her turn to stand at that tall podium, she froze.
It’s just a rules book, she reminded herself. This isn’t real. Yet.
But the looming threat of Legacy Day was becoming as real as fairies in the Enchanted Forest. Raven didn’t feel evil. She imagined her mother standing in that same spot many years before. Had her mother always been evil? Or had signing the book turned her into the evil person Raven knew? When Raven signed, would she suddenly lose herself and transform into that vain, angry, power-mad sorceress who had raised her? Or worse, would she stay the same Raven as always, but the binding magic of the Storybook of Legends would force her to do and say hateful things?
Maddie waved at her. Raven couldn’t imagine her mother being friends with someone like Maddie. Once Raven signed, would her friendships change? Disappear?
The sky was as bright and blue as witch’s candy, but Raven shivered.
“Ms. Queen,” Headmaster Grimm prompted through his megaphone.
“Right. Sorry. I’m Raven Queen, and I pledge to follow my destiny as… as…” She looked over the crowd. Everyone was casual, chatting with one another or looking out at the view of the Enchanted Forest and the mountains beyond. Maddie was playing patty-cake with her pet dormouse, Earl Grey. Only one face was turned toward her. Dexter Charming. Behind his thick glasses, his eyes were friendly, and his smile seemed so genuine the kindness took her breath. He’d been brave enough to ask a question. Perhaps she could be, too.
“Headmaster Grimm?” she squeaked. “Um, I have a question.”
“Yes?” Headmaster Grimm said, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“I was just wondering… I mean… what happens when I take the pledge? Do I change into the Evil Queen just like that?”
Headmaster Grimm’s answer came with the glaring beep of the megaphone. “You are promising to carry out your part of the Snow White story.”
“Yeah, I get that, but what if…” She thought of Maddie’s game—If I didn’t have to be the Evil Queen… “What if I don’t want to?”
There was a general gasp. Headmaster Grimm put down the megaphone and walked slowly up the stairs. Raven’s mouth was too dry to speak, and her feet felt as cold as mermaid flippers.
He stood before her, arms folded. “Ms. Queen, don’t even joke about such matters. You know the pledge is the greatest protection I can give you. Every citizen of Ever After exists as part of a story. If we don’t retell those stories, they vanish and we along with them. Poof!”
Raven nodded slowly.
He put one heavy hand on her shoulder. “All will be well in The End.”
Raven tried to smile as if comforted, but she barely felt her face budge. Headmaster Grimm held out his hand, inviting her to finish her practice pledge. But Raven couldn’t muster the will. She pretended not to notice and instead plodded back down the stairs. At the bottom, Baba Yaga blocked her path. The witch snapped, raised her hand, and pulled something blue out of the air above her head. It was the spray bottle.
Raven shut her eyes as Baba Yaga sprayed her in the face.
“Sorry,” Raven said, sputtering.
“Hmph,” said Baba Yaga.
The practice went on, and Raven hung back against the wall, hoping her purple-and-black outfit allowed her to blend in with the shadows. But someone found her.
“Hey,” said Dexter. “That was cool, what you said up there.”
“It was?” Raven asked, blinking as if she’d just been sprayed in the face again.
“Yeah. I mean, I know Headmaster Grimm knows best and this is important, but sometimes I feel like we’re not supposed to even ask questions.” He kept his eyes on his hands. Raven noticed they were callused from all that sword training and princess-saving practice. “It was cool, you know, that you did ask. I mean, that’s what I thought, anyway.”
“Thanks,” said Raven. Besides Apple, who was everyone’s friend, none of the other royals had ever talked much to Raven. “It must be nice having some mystery with your story, you know, not growing up under the pressure of knowing exactly what you’ll have to do.”
“Nice? I’d say it’s more, um, not nice?” He laughed at himself. “I’m slick with the words, obviously.”
Raven laughed. “What part is not nice?”
“Well, how everyone else has been able to recite their story since they learned to talk, while I’m facing this huge unknown. There is a story planned for me, but I can’t plan for it, you know?”
“I’d never thought about
that before.” Raven straightened. “Do you know what would be most hexcellent? If we could get a look at the Storybook of Legends before Legacy Day. You know, see our stories played out there on the page—really just understand what we’re committing to before we have to sign, right?”
Dexter nodded emphatically, his eyes never leaving Raven’s face.
“Well… we could sneak into Headmaster Grimm’s office and take a peek.”
“Yes! But… ergh, I can’t. My dad… King Charming… super-strict… no break of rules…” He mimed his finger cutting off his head.
Raven slumped.
“But, hey, you totally should, Raven. If you think you should.”
“Yeah, I kind of do. Dexter, do you think you could help me out with a distraction of sorts?”
Dexter’s eyes lit up. “I love helping you. I mean, girls. I mean, anyone. I mean, usually people ask my brother Daring for help with things. Are you sure you aren’t confusing me with him?”
Raven glanced over at Daring, who was flexing for a group of girls.
“Uh, yeah, I’m sure. You’re clever—”
“You think I’m clever?”
“And brave—”
“You think I’m brave?”
“Well, of course I do. I mean, you are.” Why did he sound so unsure? He was a prince, and a Charming prince at that. “So, anyway, I was wondering, could you keep Headmaster Grimm busy after this? Say, take him out of the castle and—”
“Ooh, I know! I could show him the catapult I’ve been working on in the sword-training meadow. He loves flinging cabbages over the wall. It’s basically his weakness.”
Raven smiled at him crookedly. She’d spent a year at the same school as Dexter without having ever spoken with him. He’d always just seemed like a slightly younger, slightly darker version of his popular brother. But she was beginning to realize that Dexter wasn’t much like Daring at all. And in a good way.
“Thanks,” said Raven, and she hurried off into the school.
She crept up the spiral staircase, past the Hall of Armor, and to the headmaster’s office. Her heart was beating like blackbird wings. She tried the door. Locked, just as she’d feared.
