by Shannon Hale
He doesn’t want anyone running away, like Bella and Brutta Sister did, Raven thought. That is, if they did run away, she reminded herself.
She watched as the briars thickened, grew longer thorns, twined extra branches. Even Hunter’s ax might not make it through that thicket. Raven had considered running away from the choice, but no. She would choose one path, and she’d make the choice today.
“What a glorious day!” Apple said, standing beside Raven before the open window. She bent down to pet her bunny slippers. They weren’t real bunnies, of course, but Apple couldn’t seem to help herself. “I can’t believe that after all these years of waiting, we finally have our Legacy Day! Raven, thank you for allowing me to journey with you and help prove how important today is. For all of us.”
Raven smiled, but she felt sick. She couldn’t really betray Apple’s trust. Could she?
All the cuckoo clocks in the castle went off at once.
Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo!
“It’s time!” Apple said, clasping her hands to her chest.
Time to get dressed. Each Legacy Day participant would wear their heirloom outfit, the clothes that his or her fairytale parent had made famous. Raven would be literally stepping into her mother’s shoes.
She shivered.
“Let’s get ready together, okay?” said Apple. “I can help you do your hair and—”
There was a knock at the door.
Raven opened it to a knee-high goblin.
“Raven Queen, your heirloom dress awaits in the cauldron room,” he said with a squeak.
“Figures,” said Raven.
She waved good-bye to Apple and followed the goblin. Instead of taking the stairs, he led her to a cupboard in the back of the enormous kitchen. Behind the cupboard door was an opening and the beginning of a black metal slide.
“Is this the garbage chute?” she asked.
The goblin smiled, showing three teeth. “If it is, then garbage has all the fun.”
He pushed off and slid away.
Raven hesitated till she heard the goblin’s distant “wahoooo!”
She crawled into the cupboard, sat, and let herself fall.
The slide dipped immediately straight down, stealing all her breath. Then came a rise and another drop. Her stomach felt full of ghost butterflies, tingly and ticklish. She lifted her hands and yelled, “Wahooo!”
The slide brought her feetfirst into the castle’s dungeon level. The cauldron room was as wide as a sports field. In the center sat the massive metal cauldron, bubbling with the molten lava that heated the school. It was Mr. Badwolf’s preferred classroom and contained the treasure vault for all villains. Also, it was a little muggy. She was glad she was wearing short sleeves.
A troop of castle goblins surrounded an upright iron coffin. With clippers taller than they were, three goblins snipped through a chain. The coffin door swung open.
Inside on a wire dummy stood her mother’s dress. Raven remembered it from her childhood, the special-occasion dress her mother put on when playing hostess to evil fairies, giants, sorceresses, and the most prestigious of witches.
It was a black that when moving reflected silver and purple tones. The bodice was built like armor, the skirts wide and fearless. Daggers jutted from the sleeves at the elbows, spikes at the shoulders.
One by one, the goblins bowed to her and left, shutting the cauldron-room door with an ominous thud. Raven was alone in the dim, hot room. She put on her mother’s dress.
She was expecting the dress to hang loose on her or hug too tight across the hips. But it fit her like a glove. She put on the gloves, and even the gloves fit like a glove. No part scratched or pinched. Perfect. As if the dress had been made just for her. The Evil Queen was who Raven was born to be.
She took it off quickly, letting it pool on the floor.
“I won’t wear it,” she whispered. “I won’t be her.”
She would just wear the clothes she’d put on that morning—a shimmery purple top with metal chain belts, purple leggings, and black knee-high boots with silver studs.
But she did hook on her mother’s cape. It was a wicked-awesome cape, with a high collar and fabric that shimmered and captured the glance. And she put on the crown, an intricate silver dome with purple jewels dripping onto her forehead. She was a Queen, after all. She didn’t want to become her mother, but she couldn’t completely deny her legacy. No matter what choice she’d make today.
“I don’t want to sign,” she whispered under the bubble of the great cauldron.
But if she didn’t, she was risking her entire life—and possibly Apple’s, too—on wonderful but mad Maddie and her riddle-spouting, lost librarian. How could she be certain which path to take?
“Follow the river to the woods and take the path on the right,” she sang to herself as she sat at a vanity of carved ebony.
Raven rarely wore makeup. That required mirror-staring, a hobby she wanted to leave to her mother. The vanity’s silver mirror was wet with humidity. Makeup in tarnished silver cases was laid out on the tabletop.
“Take the right path that won’t end in a bath, the path that leads through the night,” she sang, darkening her lids and under-eyes with dragon-blue-green shadow. She drew on dramatic dark pink lips. She sculpted her brows.
“Wicked awesome,” she whispered at her own reflection.
When she left the cauldron room, a goblin cellar worker was sweeping the dank corridor.
“Your Majesty,” he rasped in awe, bowing till his forehead touched the stone ground.
Other goblins poked their heads out of the catacombs and closets. As she walked, creatures followed behind her. Goblins, a swarm of bats, large rats skittering on long claws, two lumbering trolls dragging wooden clubs, and a blue-skinned ogre with a scar across one eye.
Magic tingled in Raven’s fingertips. There was power in the shadows, and it was pulsing, waiting to aid her.
She emerged in the main hallway of the school, afternoon light streaming in through the windows. The students of Ever After High were lining up to get good seats on the terrace for the Legacy Day ceremony. But it was not the Evil Queen’s legacy to wait in line.
No one screamed. No one spoke. They just knew to make way for her, pressing against the walls, eyes averted, shaking in her presence.
Raven felt awesome.
She walked down the cleared aisle, her horde of followers grunting, scraping, flapping, and scampering behind her. She knew they would do whatever she asked of them. If she said, “Tear this building to the ground!” they would squeal with joy.
She finally got what her mother meant about the power of evil. And how beautiful it could be.
There was Duchess Swan, who in nursery-rhyme school used to tell the other students not to play with Raven because she ate spiders for breakfast. And Headmaster Grimm, who was always trying to force her to do things she didn’t want to do. And Sparrow Hood, who had taped a KICK ME, I’M EVIL sign to her back at a picnic when they were eight. And there were the Merry Men, who had done what the sign said.
She could snap her fingers, and the creatures at her back would hunt out every person who had made Raven feel like trash and throw them into the river. And maybe she would. Maybe this was the right path after all. Maybe being the Evil Queen wouldn’t be so bad!
“Raven?”
Raven turned. For a flash, she felt the words on her tongue: Who dares address the queen by her name? But she swallowed them.
It was Dexter. He was wearing a gray wool jacket with gold embellishments, a deep blue cloak, and a full crown. But he still had on his blue jeans and high-top sneakers.
“Raven, is that really you?” He approached her, walking around a clump of first-year students who were huddled on the floor, cowering with their arms over their heads. “Whoa, you look… well, you look really different. Than normal. I mean, you look nice, the whole”—he gestured to his eyes and mouth—“and the whole”—he gestured to his own crown and cape. “Like,
way fancy. But seriously, I almost didn’t recognize you. And you looked so angry!” He laughed. “Awesome, though, for real. But… are you okay?”
“I…” Was she okay? Just a moment ago, she’d been feeling better than okay. She’d been feeling wicked powerful.
“Hey, did you know you’ve got, like, an army of creatures behind you? Is this the kind of stuff you do in dark-sorcery classes? Because in Hero Training, we don’t get minions or anything. Anyway, I’m glad I found you. I know this is a weird day for everyone, but especially for you, and I just wanted to tell you—I don’t know—good luck, I guess, for whatever that’s worth. And… and I hope whatever you see when you open the book—your story—that it’s a good one, you know?”
“Thanks, Dex,” she said. “You too.”
“Raven!” Maddie came skipping up. She was wearing a blue-and-gold suit with a purple cravat, but she’d updated her outfit, fitting the jacket at the waist, shortening the pants into cute capris, and adding a sparkly skirt overlay on top. Her mint-and-lavender hair was full of curls and fell all to one side, a purple top hat tipped to the other. She leaned close and whispered, “Are you ready? Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“Not completely,” said Raven. “But I know what to do next.”
She took a deep breath. Being the Evil Queen wouldn’t be a part-time job. If she was the type of girl who commanded ogres and goblins to toss Headmaster Grimm and Duchess Swan into the river, she couldn’t also be the type of girl who hung out with Maddie and Cedar, singing karaoke and painting one another’s nails. Besides, Dexter thought she was good. She didn’t want to let him down.
Raven turned to face her minion horde. Their eyes lit up with pure adoration just to see her face, and they began to shake with glee. She lifted her hands, and those with knees fell onto them, all eyes seeming to plead for a command. Whatever task she gave them they would execute happily.
But she said, “Thanks, I really do appreciate it. But I’m not who you think I am.”
“You are,” a goblin growled. “But you are, Majesty.”
Raven just turned and walked away.
AFTER RAVEN LEFT THEIR ROOM, APPLE stood alone at the window, waiting. Her mother had told her, “On Legacy Day, your heirloom dress will come to you.” Or rather, she’d squeaked it. Apple adored her mother, but she had to admit, she sounded a great deal like a chipmunk.
Apple was expecting a flock of songbirds to fly over the briars carrying the dress. Instead she heard tip-tapping steps come down the hall.
An antlered head pushed open the door and a family of deer entered her room—stag, doe, and fawn. They bowed their heads. Apple curtsied in return. Deer were extremely polite animals. The fawn approached, clothing draped across its back. Its large, dark eyes gazed up at Apple in adoration.
“Thank you,” said Apple, taking the gown and cape. How odd. Did the deer have some sort of clothes closet out in the woods? Ah well, it didn’t matter. So many magical surprises for the future Snow White!
She took the white shoes off the fawn’s ears and gave its fuzzy head a rub. It stretched its neck and touched its wet black nose to hers, its eyes seeming to say, “You are the hope of all things good and pure.”
After bidding the deer farewell, Apple put on her dress. The white top was quilted and fitted, while the full red skirt exploded from the golden belt at her hips and made her want to twirl. Her quilted cape clasped around her neck with three strings of pearls.
Apple was sorry Raven had dashed off to the dungeons. It would have been so appropriate to finish getting ready with her roommate, new friend, and future nemesis. Instead, she climbed to the highest tower of the dorms, where Rapunzel’s daughter lived.
Holly O’Hair’s twin sister, Poppy, who was the stylist at the Tower Salon, was lending her talents for Legacy Day princess prep. Where Holly’s auburn hair flowed to the ground, Poppy had cut hers stylishly short and dyed it a fierce purple. She was threading her sister’s hair with ribbons and flowers.
Apple modeled her dress for Briar and Blondie.
“Mirror, mirror on the walls, who’s the fairest in the halls?” said Briar. “You are, Apple White!”
“Thanks,” Apple said, lowering her head modestly.
Apple suspected Briar had updated her mother’s gown a bit. Briar’s heritage dress was hot pink and black, the skirt sporting an asymmetrical cut. Her cape sparkled with a rose-and-thorn print and a fancy ruffled collar. Her ever-present crownglasses were tucked behind her silver-and-pink rosebud tiara.
“You look fairy pretty! You too, Blondie,” said Apple, admiring the girl’s canary-yellow gown and periwinkle cape with faux bear fur trim.
“Here, let me fix you up,” said Poppy. She put a twist into the top of Apple’s hair and pinned her delicate golden crown over it.
“Seriously, Apple, you are going to look rocking at the dance tonight in that spellbinding dress,” said Briar.
“It does feel like I was born to wear it!”
The girls snapped photos of one another and uploaded them to MyChapter. Apple updated her status: This is going to be a perfect day!
The princesses were the last to arrive on the Legacy Day terrace. Apple thought that was fitting. After all, Cinderella had made the best impression when she sashayed into that ballroom a little bit late.
The terrace was set up with hundreds of chairs for the audience. The first-years watched with wide, hopeful eyes. The third- and fourth-years seemed smug, remembering their own Legacy Day. The faculty in the front rows mostly bore stern expressions, reminding all that this was a solemn ceremony. But Madam Maid Marian waved to her princesses. Her cone hat obscured the view for everyone unfortunate enough to sit behind her.
The second-years were lining up before the great pedestal in the order Headmaster Grimm had chosen.
“Daring! I’m so happy I’ll be signing after you,” said Apple, then turned to Raven. “And you right after me, Raven. Perfect!” Raven looked so much like an Evil Queen—frown and all—Apple just knew everything was going to work out.
“Yes, very appropriate,” said Daring. “All the Snow White characters together.”
“On Legacy Day and forever after.” Apple took a deep breath and smiled. Perfect!
After the headmaster’s riveting introduction, Cedar Wood was the first student to take the stairs. No hesitation in her wooden step. She nearly sprang to the podium, shouting out her words. Apple knew Cedar was eager to sign and get closer to her story. Her Happily Ever After would turn her into a real girl.
Next Ashlynn walked up the stairs. Apple expected the princess to exhibit the same eagerness, but her steps were slow. The large mirrors hanging from posts around the pedestal broadcast images of Ashlynn’s face to the audience. But the mirrors didn’t show the book, so Apple couldn’t see Ashlynn’s “flash-forward” story, just Ashlynn’s face as she watched it. Her expression was nervous, hopeful, and then… then sad. How could she be sad? Her story ended joyously! It was almost as if Ashlynn had been hoping to see something or someone in her story who didn’t show.
Ashlynn took the pen and closed her eyes as she quickly signed.
Apple frowned. She’d prefer to see the other royals being a good example of enthusiasm for this important occasion.
Daring Charming was next, and he would show everyone the proper way to wholeheartedly embrace one’s destiny!
Apple turned to smile at Raven, but Raven still didn’t smile back. No reason to worry. Apple knew Raven would do the right thing. She was part of something bigger than herself. They all were. Another generation would believe in goodness, in kindness, and in love conquering all—even death and poisoned apples—because Apple and Raven were willing to retell the story.
A good story was more important than anything, Apple believed. Even than one person’s life.
Daring signed, and the audience cheered.
Now is my moment, Apple thought.
With her mother’s cape draped over her back
and a golden crown on her head, Apple already felt like the queen she would one day become. She took the steps slowly, savoring each moment. She could hear whispers from the audience.
“It’s Apple White’s turn!”
“She looks perfect, doesn’t she?”
“Absolutely perfect!”
Her heels clicked on the red stone stairs. Her strings of pearls clinked together like wind chimes. The weight of the crown on her head felt comforting.
When Apple reached the podium, the audience began to cheer. She waved to the crowd in just the way she’d often practiced in front of a mirror. Legacy Day was the day she began her journey toward becoming a queen, the role she was born to play.
“I am Apple White, daughter of Snow White, and I am ready to pledge my destiny.”
She held out her hand, and a key spun into existence above it, slowing to lie down on her palm. The touch of the cold metal felt like a kiss. When she pressed the key into the lock, the book began to change. The dark, cracked leather soaked up a red color. The Ever After High crest in the center blinked out, replaced by a red apple.
Apple held her breath. The book knew her! A warm thrill in her chest confirmed that she was doing the right thing.
She turned the key thirty degrees to the right, and the book flipped open, landing right on her page. The picture of her animated, and she watched herself play out her part in the Snow White story. It was even better than she imagined! Those adorable dwarves, such wee-little beds. Aww…
Well, Raven as the Evil Queen unnerved her a hair. She wasn’t used to seeing hate in Raven’s eyes. A small doubt wormed into Apple’s core. But she quickly smiled it away. She would just have to accept that her friend Raven would become evil. For the good of the story.
After handsome and dashing Prince Daring woke her from her sleep, the words THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER danced across the page.
Apple then looked up at the mirror floating before the podium and watched her reflection transform into a picture of herself years older. She looked so much like her mother, only blond. Baba Yaga wouldn’t approve, but Apple did.
