by Shannon Hale
She felt guilty about spying on Raven, but the guilt passed as quickly as a butterfly. Looking out for Raven was in Raven’s best interest. And in the best interest of their shared story.
Humphrey got to work, his little fingers tapping madly on his MirrorPad.
“Hey, Apple, do you want to hear the rap I made up about you?”
“Of course!” said Apple.
Humphrey turned his crown as if angling a cap to the back and began to rap while working.
Yo, yo, her name is Apple, and I can’t grapple
with how fine and kind, you’d hafta be blind,
yo, blinded by the shine of her mind.
Gotta post a sign sayin’
beware the glare of that fair hair.
Can’t bear the care of her stare.
One glance and you’re tranced,
pierced by her lance, made to dance
to the boon of the tune of the
girl with the skin of pearl and golden curl.
She’s Apple, yo,
and this be Humphrey on flow
with mo’ rhymes I can throw
till the day she becomes Snow
till the Happily Ever then
till the chick ’comes a hen.
The.
End.
Apple applauded and smiled graciously. It was the least she could do.
WHENEVER RAVEN THOUGHT ABOUT Legacy Day, she felt sick to her stomach. Which was often lately, since Apple was bringing it up constantly. Raven couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to look in the Storybook of Legends. Perhaps her story wouldn’t be as bad as she feared. Perhaps she would see herself just pretending to be Snow White’s Evil Queen, as if acting a part in a play, and then return to being Raven once Snow White married her prince.
But before she signed that book, she had to be sure.
Today was the day. Raven felt those bird wings of nervousness beating in her chest, but she wouldn’t back down. She had spent days planning every detail.
She checked her bag for the fifth time, just to make sure she had enough wrapped caramels. She had to get through Grimmnastics class and double-check with Dexter, but as soon as the lunch bell rang, it was showtime.
“Why do you keep checking your bag?” asked Maddie as they walked to class. “Do you have squirrels in there or something?”
“Squirrels? Uh, no…”
“The squirrels in Wonderland always wore hats,” Maddie said wistfully.
“You miss your home?” Raven asked.
“Oh yes,” said Maddie. “Wonderland was wonderlandiful.”
Raven’s heart pinched. It was her mother’s rampage that had forced Maddie and others to flee Wonderland, sealing the portal shut behind them—perhaps forever.
Maddie widened her near-constant smile and took Raven’s hand. “But if I’d never left Wonderland, I wouldn’t have met you!”
“Raven,” said Cedar, “you have a smudge of ink under your nose that looks like snot—sorry! Sorry, I couldn’t help saying it!”
“No, that’s fine,” said Raven, wiping the ink off. “I’d rather know than look like a fool.”
Having an honest friend like Cedar was awesome. But she not only couldn’t tell lies, she was also compelled to just burst out with the truth at random times. What if she knew Raven planned to sneak into the headmaster’s office and was compelled to tell him about it?
No, Raven couldn’t risk telling her. Or Maddie, either. Maddie meant no harm, but she just couldn’t help talking.
Up ahead, Cerise was walking alone to class, draped as always in her red cloak and hood. Her broad shoulders pulled on the cloak, her legs muscular beneath her jeans. Raven wondered if Cerise was an athlete.
“From the first time I met Cerise last year, I assumed she’d become our friend, too,” said Raven. “But I still don’t feel like I know her at all.”
“Listen to this,” said Maddie. “Cerise Hood. Cedar Wood. Cerise Hood. Cedar Wood. Cedar, you and Cerise have to be friends or your names will get mad and just march right off you!”
“What’s she like?” Raven asked. Cedar and Cerise were roommates this year.
“She… she wears her cloak and hood to bed. She doesn’t talk. But…” Cedar’s voice dropped to a whisper. “But man, can she snore.” Cedar smiled wistfully. “Do you think when I become a real girl I’ll be able to snore, too?”
“Hey, Cerise,” Raven called out.
Cerise looked at Raven and began to lift her hand as if she would wave back.
The Three Little Pigs came down the hall toward the Cooking room, and they bumped into Cerise. All three gave a high, piercing squeal and ran in terror. The first little piggy opened the classroom door. The second little piggy leaped through. The third little piggy slammed the door shut behind him. Raven heard the click of the lock.
Cerise pulled her cloak around herself tighter and hurried away.
“I wonder why she’s so aloof,” Raven said. “I mean, her story’s a pretty good one. She’s not even a villain.”
The Three Little Pigs peeked out the window of the Cooking room’s door, saw Raven pass by, squealed again, and dropped back down.
In the locker room, Raven, Maddie, and Cedar changed into their purple, red, and gold–striped Grimmnastics uniforms and entered the gym.
“The design is just so uninspired,” Briar Beauty was saying to Apple, pinching the tank top and long shorts. “I could come up with a completely fabulous uniform. Picture this: pink leather, skinny silver belt, black knee-high boots—”
“Sounds lovely,” said Duchess Swan. She didn’t seem to walk so much as float across the floor. “But I don’t think some students can wear anything as pale as pink, poor dears. The evil in them seeps out and stains the fabric.” She looked at Raven and raised one thin eyebrow.
“Don’t be such a toad, Duchess,” said Raven.
“Hey!” said Hopper Croakington, who was standing nearby.
“Sorry, Hopper,” said Raven.
Hopper shrugged. “It’s okay. Toads are jerks. Now frogs, on the other hand—”
The tardy bell rang three times. The Grimmnasium door slammed open, and Ashlynn Ella raced in, wearing a pale mint-and-coral dress.
“I made it on time! Did I make it on time?” With a poof and a sizzle, Ashlynn’s dress dissolved into Cinderella rags. She hung her head. “I didn’t make it on time.”
Coach Gingerbreadman, wearing sweatpants and an Ever After High T-shirt over his hard cookie frame, came onto the court bouncing a ball.
“Welcome to your Legacy Year, kids. And Your Highnesses,” he said, nodding toward the royals. “Let’s start it off right. Everyone, grab a basket.”
A few people groaned.
“That’s right,” he said, winking with one frosting eye. “We’re playing basketball.”
Everyone moved into their natural team structure: royals versus commoners. Though Raven was technically a royal (an evil royal), she felt more comfortable with the commoners, and no one argued. She draped a basket of treats on one arm and took the ball from their coach.
“And, go!” he said, blowing his whistle. “Run, run, as fast as you can!”
Raven dribbled, her team rushing down the court toward where Apple’s team was waiting, baskets swinging.
Raven passed the ball to Cerise, who was wearing her red cloak and hood over her Grimmnastics uniform. Cerise dribbled with one hand, holding her basket with the other. Daring Charming was facing her down.
“It’s no use, Cerise Hood,” said Daring. “I am a Charming—brave, cunning, athletic—”
Cerise faked left and dribbled right around him, driving toward the royals’ end of the court.
It was then that Coach Gingerbreadman released the wolves.
While trying to dodge wolves, who were trying to eat the treats from their baskets, the students passed and dribbled, but mostly ran.
After Cerise made a shot, Daring got control of the ball, passing to Dexter over the heads
of Raven and three wolves. The two brothers drove down the court, leaping over wolves and dodging opponents. Raven was so startled by Dexter’s ability she just stood there watching. Who knew he was as good as his brother? Even Hunter and Cerise couldn’t manage to get in front of them before Dexter made a slam dunk.
A wolf got Cedar’s basket, so she was out. Blondie Lockes lost her basket, and Hopper Croakington lost his, making him so mad he turned into a frog on the spot. Kitty Cheshire disappeared and reappeared sitting on top of the commoners’ basketball standard, kicking her legs and eating pastries from her basket.
“Kitty!” Coach Gingerbreadman shouted. “Get back on the court or you’ll foul out of the game.”
With her customary huge smile, Kitty faded away and reappeared back on the court, only to vanish again and reappear on the royals’ basketball standard.
“You can’t catch me, Coach Gingerbreadman,” she said.
The coach sighed, and then quickly sidestepped a wolf who was out of bounds.
Cupid was flapping her wings furiously, rising above the court.
“Flying is against the rules, Cupid!” said the coach.
“But… but… wolves!” said Cupid.
Her basket slipped from her hands and fell directly into a wolf’s open jaw.
Now that the wolves had had a taste of pastries, they were slathering into a frenzy, howling and yipping. Raven had no idea who had the ball. She held her basket above her head and concentrated on avoiding the snapping jaws of wolves hyped up on sugar. She almost missed playing simple, old dodgeball in nursery-rhyme school.
A salivating wolf was in hot pursuit of Lizzie Hearts, who kept shouting, “Off with its head! Off with its head!”
“I’ll help you!” Hunter rushed toward Lizzie Hearts, pausing first to rip off his shirt, place his fists on his hips, and strike a bold pose. Out of nowhere, trumpets played a heroic fanfare.
“Oh!” Cupid said in surprise. The winged, pink-haired girl had transferred to the school just that year. “I didn’t realize there would be so much trumpeting and tearing of shirts at Ever After High.”
“Hunter does that,” Raven whispered to Cupid. “The shirt thing. We’re not really sure why.”
“It’s a Huntsman tradition,” said Maddie. “I think they call it the Huntsman-To-the-Rescue Move. Keeps their shirts clean.”
“Clean and ripped,” said Raven.
“Well, write me into the list of Those Who Don’t Mind a Bit,” said Cupid, eyeing his perfectly toned arms and chest. “My, but he will break a few hearts.”
“Hunter, Lizzie’s not even on our team!” Raven shouted after him.
“Aw, he’s a big sweetie pie,” said Maddie. “A big, sugary banana slice of pie, cutie-sweetie Hunter.”
A wolf ate Maddie’s basket in one toothy bite. Maddie giggled.
Ashlynn was on her hands and knees, talking to a wolf. He howled back, nodding and rolling his eyes as if complaining about something in wolf language. She took a pastry from her basket and fed it to him on her palm.
“Someone throw the ball!” Coach Gingerbreadman called. But no one could find it.
“Maybe a wolf ate it?” Dexter offered helpfully. He was still running around, enjoying the game, though there wasn’t much to call a game anymore. Just a hot mess of wolves, screams, and spilled pastries. Apple refused to give up, though, shouting out calls.
“Come on, team! No retreating! It’s time to shine!”
Raven ran up beside Dexter, pretending to be on defense.
“Hey, Dex,” Raven said. “Nice day for catapulting cabbages?”
He smiled, looked around to see if anyone was watching, then gave Raven the thumbs-up.
By the time the bell rang, the court was strewn with basket carcasses, pastry crumbs, and wolves with full bellies, beginning to snooze. Only one student still had an untouched basket over her arm. Cerise Hood.
“That’s a win for the commoners!” said Coach Gingerbreadman.
“I insist upon a rematch!” said Daring Charming.
Cerise vaulted over a last hungry wolf on her way out. Given Cerise’s story, Raven would have thought she would be afraid of wolves.
With a nod at Dexter, Raven left to change in the locker room. She slipped on her Coat of Infinite Darkness, once a gift from her mother. The long, black coat with dragon-scale details looked so good she almost wished people noticed her in it, but that would defeat the purpose. Even better was how it helped her blend with the shadows.
She stayed away from the bright windows in the faculty wing, watching till she saw Headmaster Grimm leave his office.
Gus and Helga were sitting on the floor in the alcove, eating their lunch. Gus had a bag of bread crumbs he was stuffing into his mouth by the handful.
In her Coat of Infinite Darkness, Raven slipped by. Starting at the headmaster’s door, she lay down a candy trail, looping down the hall and ending at Coach Gingerbreadman’s gingerbread office.
She hid around the corner and waited.
“Vhat is dis, my cousin Helga?”
“I do not know. Vhat is dis, my cousin Gus?”
“Dis is caramels, my cousin Helga. Fat, juicy caramels.”
“Someone has lost their caramels. Perhaps ve should keep them safe—in our bellies!”
There was the sound of crinkling caramel wrappers, followed by much munching and sucking.
Raven waited till the sounds faded down the hallway before sending Maddie a hext on her MirrorPhone.
RAVEN: R u in the Castleteria? Can you tell Blondie there’s free porridge in the faculty wing?
MADDIE: Absotively. {:-)
Maddie ended all her hext messages with the emoticon of a smiley face wearing a hat.
Raven took off her coat and paced. In a few moments, Blondie Lockes came running up the stairs, her perfect golden ringlets bouncing.
“Raven! I heard something about porridge?”
“Porridge?” Raven said, playing ignorant. “I’m not sure. I was just standing here waiting for Headmaster Grimm to come back. But I did think I smelled something porridgey and sweet from the other side of his door.…”
Blondie’s eyes widened, and she sniffed the air like a hound on the hunt. She couldn’t seem to help herself as she walked over to the headmaster’s door and gave the doorknob a twist. The door opened under her hand, as one day the Three Bears’ door would. Blondie had an uncanny ability to open any lock.
Raven followed her in, Blondie taking deep breaths through her nose.
“That’s funny, I could’ve sworn…” Raven wandered over to the crystal case holding the Storybook of Legends. “I keep smelling something right here.”
“In here?” Blondie put her hand on the case, and the lock dropped away. “There’s nothing in here but an old book.”
Raven looked at her MirrorPhone. “Oh, wait, just got a hext that they’re serving sweet porridge in the Castleteria. Sorry, must’ve smelled it through the vents or something.”
Blondie swung her head around, like a predator listening for prey, and took off.
Raven shut the door quietly behind her. She had asked a goblin who worked in the kitchen to make a big pot of porridge for lunch, so at least Blondie wouldn’t be disappointed.
Raven took a deep breath and stood before the Storybook of Legends.
The tome was covered in dark, cracked leather and edged with gold filigree. The Ever After High crest adorned the center. And as Raven suspected, it was locked. Asking Blondie to open that lock as well would have been too suspicious. Raven hoped something else would work.
She tried the pledge words she’d learned at Legacy Day practice to make her key appear. “I, Raven Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, want to pledge my destiny.”
No key. She’d suspected those words only worked on the actual Legacy Day, too.
So she tried all the magical passwords she could think of. “Abracadabra. Open sesame. Sim salabim. Alakazam. Hocus pocus. Voilà. Please.”
The book didn’t budge. But then she had a thought. Headmaster Grimm loved that book. Raven would bet that he opened it regularly just to look through it. Maybe every day was Legacy Day to Milton Grimm.
“I, Milton Grimm,” said Raven, “descendant of the Brothers Grimm, wish to open the Storybook of Legends.”
A golden key appeared before her, hovering over the book. She plucked it from the air, pressed it into the keyhole, and turned it thirty degrees, just as the headmaster had taught.
The book opened. Magic crackled in the air with a smell like burnt nutmeg. The hair on Raven’s arms stood up.
She flipped to the back and found her page. RAVEN QUEEN was spelled out in purple script. But for a short description of her destiny and a blank line at the bottom where she would sign, the page was empty. She tapped it, whispered at it, commanded it to show her story. But the page just sat there, page-like. She tried to view Dexter Charming’s page, too, but no story-showy thing happened. Apparently, that only worked on the actual Legacy Day, too.
Raven rubbed her eyes, wanting to cry. She’d daydreamed about seeing her story play out, with a wild hope that it wouldn’t be so bad after all. But no such luck. She’d have to wait till Legacy Day now.
Not looking for anything in particular, Raven began thumbing back through the pages.
There was Witchy Brew’s signature.
Raven had been in the crowd last Legacy Day, watching that year’s Legacy students approach the book. She remembered Witchy’s sad face as she signed. Witchy used to paint watercolors of frolicking unicorns and once had helped Raven open her locker when it was stuck. But Raven had watched Witchy commit to becoming a villain who lures children into her home and fattens them up to eat them.
What Raven would promise to become in just three short weeks was even worse than a child-eating witch.
She thumbed back farther. All the tales were known to her: There was the son of the Genie’s signature, the Goose Girl’s daughter, Rose Red’s daughter. There was the Ugly Duckling’s flipper print, a Puss-in-Boots inked paw, the tiny scrawl of the Thumbelina.
And much farther back, her own mother’s. The thick, looping signature took up half the page and showed no hesitation. Could it be that her mother was happy to become the Evil Queen? Eager, even? Raven sighed at her own pathetic self.
