The School for Good and Evil

by Soman Chainani

  Though the chamber was colder than ever, Sophie shined with sweat.

  With the princess locked behind a door and suspicious of strangers, the Trial Nevers had to be creative to kill her. Mona uglified herself into a peddler and gifted the princess poisoned lipstick. After Lady Lesso conjured a new maiden, Anadil knocked on her door and left a carnivorous bouquet outside it. Hester shrank into a cute squirrel and offered her victim a glittery balloon.

  “Why, thank you!” the princess beamed as the balloon pulled her up, up, up into the razor-sharp icicles on the ceiling.

  Sophie closed her eyes through most of this.

  “Who’s next?” Lady Lesso said, sealing a new princess behind the door. “Oh, yes. You.” She drummed long red nails on Sophie’s desk. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

  Sophie felt sick. Murder? Even if it was a phantom, she couldn’t mur—

  The Beast’s dying face flashed and she blanched. That was different! He was Evil! Any prince would have done the same!

  “Another fail, it seems,” Lady Lesso leered.

  Meeting her eyes, Sophie thought of Tedros losing faith in her. She thought of fourteen villains convinced they were pure enough to kill. She thought of her happy ending slipping away . . .

  The Sophie I love doesn’t try.

  Jaw set, she stormed to the door, past her surprised teacher, finger glowing pink—

  To freeze an Ever in ice . . .

  She pounded on the door.

  Make your soul cold . . .

  The door opened and Sophie’s fingerglow dimmed.

  It was her own face staring back at her, only with the long blond locks she had before the Beast. To win this challenge, she had to kill . . . herself.

  Sophie saw Lady Lesso smirking in the corner.

  “May I help you?” asked Princess Sophie.

  Just a ghost. Sophie gritted her teeth and felt her finger burn once more.

  “You look like a stranger,” said the princess, blushing.

  Colder than you thought possible . . .

  Sophie pointed her glowing finger at her.

  “Mother said never talk to strangers,” said the princess anxiously.

  Say it!

  Sophie’s fingertip flickered—she couldn’t find the words—

  “I should go. Mother’s calling.”

  Kill her! Kill her now!

  “Goodbye,” said the princess, closing her door—

  “BANTA PAREO DIROSTI!”

  Poof! The princess turned into a chicken. Sophie grabbed it in her arms, hurled a chair, shattering the iced window, and flung the bird into open sky—

  “Fly, Sophie! You’re free!”

  The chicken tried to fly, then realized it couldn’t, and plummeted to its death.

  “For the first time, I feel sorry for an animal,” Lady Lesso said.

  Another “15” spat in Sophie’s face.

  Perhaps the only thing Sophie liked about the School for Evil was that there were plenty of places to cry. She tucked behind a crumbling arch and sobbed. How would she ever face Tedros?

  “We insist you remove Sophie from the Trial.”

  Sophie recognized the gruff voice as Professor Manley’s. She crept out of the archway and peeked through the keyhole into his putrid classroom. But where the rusted seats normally were filled with villains, now they were occupied by the faculty of both schools. Professor Dovey presided at the dragon-skull lectern, which she’d brightened with a pumpkin paperweight.

  “The Nevers plan to kill her, Clarissa,” finished bald, pimpled Manley.

  “Bilious, we have secure measures in place to prevent a student’s death.”

  “Let’s hope they’re more secure than four years ago,” he shot back.

  “I think we are all in agreement that Garrick’s death was an accident!” Professor Dovey flared.

  The room was ominously silent. In the hall, Sophie could hear her own shallow breaths.

  Garrick of Gavaldon. Taken with Bane.

  Bane had failed. Garrick had died.

  Her heart rattled against her ribs.

  Getting home alive is our happy ending.

  Agatha was right all along.

  “There is another reason Sophie must be removed from the Trial,” Castor said soberly. “The fairies say she and the Everboy plan to act as a team.”

  “As a team?” Professor Dovey gaped. “An Ever and a Never?”

  “Imagine if they won!” shrieked Professor Sheeks. “Imagine if word got out in the Woods!”

  “So either she dies or destroys this school,” Manley groused and spat on the floor.

  “Clarissa, this is an easy decision,” said Lady Lesso.

  “But there’s no precedent for removing a qualified student from a Trial!” Professor Dovey protested.

  “Qualified! She flunked every challenge this week!” said Manley. “The boy has convinced her she’s Good!”

  “Perhaps she’s just feeling the pressure of the Trial,” offered Princess Uma, feeding a quail on her shoulder—

  “Or she duped us all into thinking she was Evil’s great hope!” Professor Sheeks said. “She should have failed before the Trial!”

  “Then why didn’t she?” Professor Anemone asked.

  “Every time we tried to fail her, another student got last place instead,” Manley said. “Someone stopped her from failing!”

  Evil teachers clamored in furious agreement.

  “Makes perfect sense,” Professor Dovey said over them. “Some mysterious busybody, who no one has ever seen, flits through your tower, meddling with your ranks.”

  “You describe the School Master quite well, Clarissa,” said Lady Lesso.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lady Lesso. Why would the School Master interfere with a student’s ranks?”

  “Because he’d love nothing better than to see Evil’s ‘best’ student win behind Good’s shield,” Lady Lesso hissed, violet eyes strobing. “A student who even I foolishly thought had hope. But if Sophie wins with that pathetic prince, I will not stand by, Clarissa. I will not allow the School Master, nor you and your arrogant beasts, to destroy my life’s work. Hear me now. Let Sophie compete in that Trial and you are risking more than just her life. You are risking war.”

  The room went dead silent.

  Professor Dovey cleared her throat. “Perhaps she can compete next year—”

  Sophie slumped in relief.

  “You cave to Evil!” Professor Espada cried.

  “Only to protect the girl—” Dovey said weakly—

  “But the Everboy will still love her!” Anemone warned.

  “A week in the Doom Room will fix that,” said Lady Lesso.

  “Still can’t find the Beast,” said Sheeba—

  “Then get a new one!” Lady Lesso snarled.

  “How about a vote?” chirped Uma.

  “VOTES ARE FOR SISSIES!” Castor roared, and teachers burst into a rumpus. Uma’s quail poop-bombed the Evil teachers, Castor tried to eat the bird, and Pollux managed to lose his head again, before someone whistled with loud authority. Everyone turned to the man standing in the corner of the burned room.

  “This school has one mission and one mission only,” said Professor Sader. “To protect the balance between Good and Evil. If Sophie’s participation in the Trial disturbs this balance, then she must be disqualified immediately. Luckily for us, the proof of this balance is in front of your eyes.”

  Everyone’s gaze shifted. Sophie tried to see what they were looking at, then realized they were all looking in different directions.

  “Are we in agreement the balance is intact?” said Professor Sader.

  No one argued.

  “Then Sophie will compete in the Trial by Tale and we have nothing more to discuss.”

  Sophie swallowed a scream.

  “Always so sensible, August,” said Lady Lesso, standing up. “Thankfully, the girl’s failures have ensured she will spend most of the Trial without the boy protecting her. Let us hope tha
t she dies so brutally no one would dare repeat her mistakes. Only then will her story have the ending it deserves. Perhaps one even fit for a painting.”

  She swept from the room and the Evil teachers followed her.

  As the Good faculty filed out, muttering to each other in pairs, Professor Dovey and Professor Sader emerged last. They walked in silence, her high-necked chartreuse gown rustling against his shamrock-green suit.

  “What if she dies, August?” Clarissa asked.

  “What if she lives?” said Sader.

  Clarissa stopped. “You still believe it’s true?”

  “I do. As do I believe it true the Storian started her fairy tale.”

  “But it’s impossible—it’s lunacy—it’s—” Clarissa flushed with horror. “This is why you intervened?”

  “On the contrary, I haven’t intervened,” Sader said. “Our duty is to let the story take its course—”

  “No! What have you—” Professor Dovey’s hand flew to her mouth—“This is why you send a girl to risk her life? Because you believe your spurious prophecy?”

  “There is far more at stake here than one girl’s life, Clarissa.”

  “She’s just a girl! An innocent girl!” Professor Dovey gasped, welling furious tears. “Her blood is on your hands!”

  As she fled, sniffles echoing down the stairs, Professor Sader’s hazel eyes clouded with doubt.

  He couldn’t see Sophie crouched next to him, trying to stop herself from shivering.

  Awash in the Clearing’s crinkly leaves, Kiko wrapped her shawl tighter and licked her spiced corn cob.

  “So I asked every girl if they’d say yes to Tristan and they all said no! So that means he has to ask me! He could go alone, of course, but if a boy goes alone to the Ball, he only gets half ranks and Tristan likes using the Groom Room so he’ll definitely ask me. Well, Tristan could ask you, but you told him to marry Tedros, so I don’t think he likes you. I can’t believe you said that. As if princes could marry each other. Then what would we do?”

  Agatha chomped on her cob to drown her out. Across the Clearing, she saw Sophie and Tedros arguing ferociously in the mouth of the tree tunnel. It looked like Sophie was trying to apologize and embrace him—kiss him, even—but Tedros shoved her away.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  Agatha turned. “Wait. So if a girl doesn’t get asked to the Ball, then she fails and suffers a punishment worse than death. But if a boy doesn’t go to the Ball, he gets half ranks? How is that fair!”

  “Because it’s the truth,” Kiko said. “A boy can choose to be alone if he wants. But if a girl ends up alone . . . she might as well be dead.”

  Agatha swallowed. “That’s ridiculous—”

  Something dropped in her basket.

  Agatha glanced up to see Sophie meet her eyes as Tedros dragged her into the Evers line.

  As Kiko jabbered on, Agatha pulled a luscious pink rose bloom from her basket, then saw it was made of parchment. With the deftest care, she undid the flower in the lap of her dress.

  The note only had three words.

  I need you.

  20

  Secrets and Lies

  The cockroach darted under the door of Room 66 and nearly jumped from its shell. It gawped at shattered glass, noosed dresses, three sleeping witches—and skittered out before any of them saw her.

  But one of them did see the roach.

  And the swan on its stomach.

  Antennae whisking right and left, Agatha tracked Sophie’s perfume down crooked stairs and dank halls (nearly succumbing to a shifty male roach along the way), until she found its source in the common room. The first thing she saw inside was shirtless Hort, face clenched red like a toddler on the toilet. With a last grunt of effort, he peered down at his chest and two brand-new hairs sticking out of it.

  “Yeah! Whose talent can beat that!”

  On the next couch, Sophie buried her nose deeper in Spellcasting for Idiots.

  She heard two insect clicks and looked up urgently. Hort puffed his chest and winked. She turned in horror, then saw lipstick scrawled on the floor behind her couch.

  “BATHROOM. BRING CLOTHES.”

  Sophie despised the Evil bathrooms, but at least they were a safe place to meet. Nevers seemed to have a phobia of toilets and avoided them entirely. (She had no idea what prompted this fear or where they relieved themselves, but she preferred not to think about it.) The door moaned as she slipped into the dim iron cell. Two torches flickered on the rusted wall, elongating the shadows of stalls. As she crept towards the last one, slivers of pale skin peeked through iron slits.

  “Clothes?”

  Sophie slid them under the stall.

  The door opened and Agatha tramped out in Hort’s frog pajamas, arms crossed.

  “I don’t have anything else!” Sophie whimpered. “My roommates hanged all mine!”

  “No one likes you these days,” Agatha shot back, hiding her glowing finger. “I wonder why.”

  “Look, I’m sorry! I couldn’t just go home! Not when I finally got my prince!”

  “You? You got your prince?”

  “Well, it was mostly me . . .”

  “You said you wanted to go home. You said we’re a team! That’s why I helped you!”

  “We are a team, Agatha! Every princess needs a sidekick!”

  “Sidekick! Sidekick!” Agatha shouted. “Well, let’s see how our heroine manages all by herself!”

  She broke away. Sophie grabbed her arm. “I tried to kiss him! But he doubts me now!”

  “Let go—”

  “I need your help—”

  “And I won’t give it,” Agatha spat, elbowing past her. “You’re a liar, a coward, and a fraud.”

  “Then why did you even come?” Sophie said, eyes welling.

  “Watch out. Crocodile tears mean crocodile wrinkles,” Agatha sneered from the door.

  “Please. I’ll do anything!” Sophie blubbered—

  Agatha swiveled. “Swear you’ll kiss him the first chance you get. Swear on your life.”

  “I swear!” Sophie cried. “I want to go home! I don’t want them to kill me!”

  Agatha stared at her. “Huh?”

  Complete with voices and gestures, Sophie hysterically replayed the faculty meeting, failed challenges, and fight with Tedros.

  “We’re getting too close to the end, Sophie,” Agatha said, now ghost white. “Someone always dies at the end of a fairy tale!”

  “What do we do now?” Sophie squeaked.

  “You win that Trial and kiss Tedros the moment you do.”

  “But I can’t survive! I have three hours alone without Tedros protecting me!”

  “You won’t be alone,” Agatha grumped.

  “I won’t?”

  “You’ll have fairy godroach under your collar, conjuring you out of trouble. Only this time, if you don’t kiss your prince on cue, I’ll curse you with every Evil spell I know until you do!”

  Sophie threw her arms around her. “Oh, Agatha, I’m a terrible friend. But I’ll have my whole life to make it up to you.”

  Footsteps echoed down the hall. “Go!” Agatha whispered. “I need to Mogrify!”

  Sophie gave her a last hug and, aglow with relief, snuck from the bathroom and back to Hort’s protection. A minute later, a cockroach followed and dashed for the stairwell.

  Neither noticed the red tattoo smoldering through shadows.

  Per tradition, there were no classes the day before the Trial. Instead, the 15 Ever and 15 Never challengers were given time to scout the Blue Forest. So while unpicked students worked on Circus talents, Sophie followed Tedros through the gates, keenly aware of the chill between them.

  Though the rest of the grounds had fallen prey to a slow autumnal death, the Blue Forest glistened, lush as ever, in midday sun. All week, the students had tried to wheedle out of their teachers what obstacles the challengers would face but they professed ignorance. The School Master designed the Trial in s
ecret, giving professors only the power to secure its borders. Teachers couldn’t even watch the contest, since he cast a veiling spell over the Blue Forest for the whole night.

  “The School Master forbids our interference,” Professor Dovey mumbled to her class, clearly distraught. “He prefers Trials to simulate the dangers of the Woods beyond reason or responsibility.”

  But as the competitors crowded into the Forest behind Sophie and Tedros, none of them could believe that a night from now, this beautiful playground would turn into a hellish gauntlet. Together, the Evers and Nevers herded past the sparkling fronds of the Fernfield, snacking possums in the Pine Glen, the Blue Brook tumbling with trout, before they remembered they were enemies and split up.

  Tedros shoved past Sophie. “Follow me.”

  “I’ll go on my own,” she said softly. “I haven’t earned your protection.”

  Tedros turned. “Beatrix said you cheated to get to number one. Is that true?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then why did you fail all the pre-Trial challenges?”

  Tears pearled Sophie’s eyes. “I wanted to prove I could survive without you. So you’d be proud of me.”

  Tedros stared at her. “You lost . . . on purpose?”

  She nodded.

  “Are you insane!” he exploded. “The Nevers—they’ll kill you!”

  “You’d risk your life to prove I’m Good,” Sophie sniffled. “I’m willing to fight for you, too.”

  For a moment, Tedros looked like he might clobber her. Then the red seeped from his cheeks and he grabbed her in his arms. “When I come through those gates, promise me you’ll be there.”

  “I promise,” Sophie wept. “For you, I promise.”

  Tedros gazed into her eyes. Sophie puckered her perfectly glossed lips . . .

  “You’re right, you should explore on your own,” her prince said, pulling away. “You need to feel confident in here without me. Especially after losing so many challenges.”

  “But—but—”

  “Stay away from Nevers, all right?”

  He squeezed her hand and sprinted to catch up with Everboys in the pumpkin patch. Chaddick’s sharp voice echoed. “Still a villain, mate. Won’t get special treatment from us. . . .”