The Storybook of Legends

by Shannon Hale

  She hadn’t signed. And yet Nevermore was still her pet. Didn’t that mean something?

  A school tower was incoming.

  “Just drop me here,” Raven said. If Headmaster Grimm came hunting for her, she wanted to be alone when found. She didn’t want Nevermore to get in trouble, too.

  Nevermore moaned but obeyed. Raven reached out and grasped the tower’s banner pole. She scrambled onto the shingled roof and clung. No one would look for her there.

  She waved good-bye to Nevermore. The dragon snuffled but flew back toward the forest, leaving Raven alone.

  “What have I done?” Raven asked the wind. It beat the red banner that sprouted from the tower roof, but it didn’t say anything helpful.

  A bluebird landed on a shingle inches from Raven’s hand, using its beak to scratch under its wing.

  “Hi,” Raven whispered.

  The bluebird turned one eye to her. Raven held her breath. The bird chirped twice. Raven sang two notes in response. The bird didn’t fly away.

  “I changed things,” she whispered. “It’s already different.”

  Up here, Raven couldn’t hear the screaming anymore. Maybe they’d all calmed down a bit, now that no one had actually poofed.

  The wind was getting cold, the clouds stirred up and gray. Raven climbed off the roof into the tower window and crept through hallways and down stairs. She didn’t dare go back to her room. Apple might be there. Better to keep her distance for now.

  Finally she ended up in the Commoner Common Room. She sat on a wooden stool by the fire and wondered how long she could hide before getting discovered.

  Not long.

  “See, there she is!” Maddie cried.

  Suddenly Raven was smothered with hugs. Cedar, Maddie, Cerise, Hunter. Pink-haired Cupid flew in the door and attacked her in a huge and sincere embrace.

  “You’re okay!” said Cerise.

  “We thought you poofed!” said Cedar. “I mean, you didn’t sign the book and then you were gone, so naturally we thought…” Cedar’s wooden brow furrowed. “I wish I could cry! I want to, but I’m not real enough. Curses!”

  “I’m okay. Sorry to scare you. I just thought I’d better get out of there before the royals came after me with pitchforks and torches.”

  “I told everyone you didn’t go poof, but they just looked at me funny,” said Maddie.

  Cedar shook her head. “You said, ‘Tiny crow crowned unconfused with a cloud.’ ”

  “Oh, whoops! Didn’t realize I’d said it in Riddlish!” Maddie took off her hat and pulled out a cup of hot tea. “Here, Raven, I thought you could use this. On a cloudy day, there’s nothing like milkflower tea with extra honey.”

  “Thanks,” said Raven.

  “Well, I thought what you did was amazing,” said Cerise. “Raven Queen, what big guts you have!”

  Everyone nodded.

  Cerise took Raven’s hand and looked at her intensely.

  “Honestly,” said Cerise. “Thank you for being brave enough.”

  Cerise’s face was usually hidden in the shadow of her hood. Raven had never noticed before that she had a streak of white through her bangs and down the side of her straight dark hair. Raven thought her lightning forelock looked wicked cool.

  There was a knock at the Common Room door. Hunter rushed to it.

  “Who goes there?” Hunter demanded, his chest stuck out. “Be ye friend or foe?”

  “Uh, friend, I think,” came the voice. “I’m not completely sure what foe means, but probably not that one.”

  Hunter opened the door to Dexter.

  “Hey,” Dexter said.

  Everyone took a protective stance in front of Raven. Dexter was clearly a royal, one of those promised a castle and a princess and a Happily Ever After. Those sort couldn’t be happy with Raven right now.

  “It’s okay, guys,” she said. “Dex is a friend.”

  Dexter took a couple of steps in. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  She nodded. “Thanks. I’m fine. But I’m sorry I messed up Legacy Day for everyone—for you especially. I know you wanted to see your Once Upon a Time.”

  Dexter shrugged, looking at her. And then he just kept looking at her, as if he’d forgotten that there was a roomful of people. He smiled. He didn’t have his older brother’s crowd-stopping, blinding smile, but Raven noticed just how nice a smile it was.

  “You were amazing,” Dexter said. “I’ve never… What you did… That was the bravest, the most extraordinary… I mean, you might have poofed! But you didn’t!” He turned to Maddie. “Wasn’t she amazing?”

  Maddie nodded. “I heartily agree.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t matter what future the book would have shown me. Maybe…” He looked back at his hands. “Maybe now everyone can choose for themselves without being afraid. Don’t tell my brother, but I never liked the way things were, how you—how people were trapped in a story they didn’t want to be in.”

  “Hear! Hear!” said Maddie. “After all, it’s not everyone’s destiny to run the best hat and tea shop in all of Ever After, and that’s not fair!”

  “I’ve been making this for you in Arts and Crafts,” Cedar said, slipping a purple T-shirt into Raven’s hand. Raven held it up. Cedar had embroidered a heart with wings in the center of the shirt flying over the words NOT YOUR MOMMA’S FAIRYTALE.

  Raven put it on right over her clothes. She had to take off her crown and cape first, but she didn’t mind.

  “I should go,” Dexter said. “Apple, Daring, and the other royals will be leaving soon. Carriages are waiting to take us to the dock and the boats waiting to take us to the Ballroom. Briar is determined the Legacy Day dance should go forward.”

  “I’m pretty sure that I won’t be welcome there,” said Raven.

  “Or your friends, either,” said Cerise. “Except maybe Cedar, since she already signed.”

  “Hmph,” said Cedar. “They’ll just have to party without the puppet, ’cause I’m sticking with Raven.”

  “No, you should go,” said Dexter. “You should all go. It’s still Legacy Day. And you’re still students at Ever After High. Don’t let anyone bully you out of your party.”

  Raven smiled. “Okay, Dex. Maybe we will.”

  She looked around, and her smile felt a little bit wicked. But just a little bit.

  They all raced down the many stairs to the courtyard of the school, just to see the carriages take off without them.

  “We can still make it,” said Dexter.

  He led them on foot through the sports fields and down the lake-side hill to the shore. They arrived at the dock out of breath. The carriages had beat them by a long shot. Most of the royal-filled boats had already set off for the Ballroom, pulled by mermaids toward the lake island. Only one last boat was tied to the dock.

  “Dexter!” Daring called, standing boldly in the rowboat as if it were a majestic royal vessel. “Get away from that rebel horde and come join the royals, where you belong.”

  Dexter hesitated.

  “It’s okay, Dex,” said Raven. “We’ll find a way to meet you there.”

  “There’s room for them in here, too,” Dexter said as he climbed in.

  “Have you flipped your crown? It would be improper for them to attend a dance honoring Legacy Day. Raven Queen upset the ladies! Fair ones who have been looking forward to their Legacy Day since they were delicate little nursery rhymes. I’ve been wiping runny noses and catching fainting princesses all afternoon. So no dance for you, Raven Queen, or your friends. Finned one, proceed!” Daring called to a mermaid in the water.

  She smiled up at Daring, batting her wet green eyelashes, and then grabbed the boat’s rope and swam.

  “Sorry!” Dexter called back.

  The “Rebels” stood on the now empty dock.

  “Um… I guess that’s that,” said Cerise.

  “That?” said Maddie. “That is never that. This is that. Or else that is this. And this is definitely not that
. So let’s go to the dance.”

  “How?” said Raven.

  Narrator? We’re kind of stuck here on the shore. Any ideas?

  Absolutely not. You know the rules.

  Which rules? The rule about not putting things in your nose? Or the one about pretending to listen during Ancient History even if you’re really thinking about how many cupcakes it would take to—

  I’ve let myself get tricked into helping you too often. I’m not supposed to take a side, you know—Rebel or Royal. I’m supposed to tell both sides equally, unbiased, some parts from Apple’s point of view, some parts from Raven’s point of view. I just report what happens according to how they understand it, not tipping the story in favor of one or the other, and certainly not giving hints about how a group of Rebels might get to an island without a boat. It seems impossible to me, anyhow. I mean, you’re not fish.

  That’s it! Thanks, Narrator!

  But—I didn’t say—I resent the idea that—argh!

  I’VE GOT IT!” SAID MADDIE. “WE’RE NOT FISH. But fish are fish.”

  Maddie smiled proudly. Everyone else stared.

  “Are you talking to us now or to that voice you sometimes hear?” asked Raven.

  “To you, silly. We need fish to help us. Fishies in the water. Or things that can swim.”

  “Aah,” said Raven. “That is a good idea. Besides the mermaids, who lives in this water?”

  “I got this!” Cedar said, and jumped in. She was the school swim champ. After all, wood floats.

  She swam out into the lake, her face down. She began to wave at something and talk underwater, the bubbles from her speech boiling around her face.

  As she swam back to shore, a white wake formed behind her. Someone was following.

  “What—” Cerise started.

  “Wh-who—” Raven stuttered.

  In the shallows, someone stood up. She had a young face, perhaps ten years old, and her skin was a pale blue. Her dark blue–black hair was long and flowed over her body. From the waist down she was underwater, but Raven suspected she didn’t have feet.

  “I’ve heard about you,” the lake girl said to Raven. “I heard what you did today.”

  “Already? Wow. Gossip travels. Um, you’re the daughter of the Sea Witch, aren’t you?” said Raven. “One time your mom went to one of my mom’s evil dinner parties.”

  The girl nodded. “I’m Coral Witch. Destined to one day live in the sea with a bunch of fat sea snakes as my pets and cut out a little mermaid’s tongue to make a potion. Blech.”

  Raven leaned forward with her hand in a fist. “Potion-making-witch mom. Check.”

  Coral bumped her fist against Raven’s.

  “So, you guys want to get across?” Coral asked.

  She put her face into the water and made noises. Suddenly the shore was swarming and bubbling with creatures: fish, eels, turtles, frogs, octopuses. They pressed together, forming a wet and lumpy surface.

  “Hop on,” said Coral.

  The group held hands and carefully stepped onto the backs of the creatures, and the platform began to move. They wobbled, clinging to one another. Raven was not eager to fall onto the slimy surface. But the ride was surprisingly smooth. Soon they reached the island, and the teens stepped onto a wooden pier. The group shouted thanks to their lake friends.

  Coral waved to them from the water. “Thank you! I’m going to think about what you did today, Raven.”

  The Ballroom, a white marble pavilion surrounded by carved pillars, sat atop the humpbacked island. Music floated down the slope, enticing Raven to follow. The group began to climb the steep stairs cut into the rocky cliff.

  “You all sure you want to do this?” Raven asked.

  “Do what?” said Maddie. “Go to a party? Of course we want to go to a party! What a silly question.”

  Cedar wrung out her cloak—a blush pink at the top that darkened into a black hem embellished with silver thread. “Nothing like crashing a party smelling like fish. Fitting, isn’t it? Since I’ll spend part of my story inside a whale.” She looked up. “Or not. I mean, I don’t know what will or won’t happen anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Raven.

  Cedar smiled, her wooden face creaking. “I like surprises.”

  Inside the Ballroom, the mood was somber. Sparrow Hood and his Merry Men played on the stage, slow songs that were too dismal to dance to. Clusters of Royals huddled together, some crying, some ranting. When Raven and her group entered, the conversations stopped. Everyone glared. Raven considered that the Royals had become professionally good glarers. Baba Yaga would be impressed.

  “Apple.” Raven sat beside her on a glass chair.

  Apple’s eyes were red from crying, but her cheeks were dry. “You’re sorry.”

  Raven nodded.

  “But you don’t regret doing it,” said Apple.

  Raven nodded again.

  Apple lifted her chin. “You don’t need to be sorry for me, Raven Queen. I am sorry for you. I’ll find a way to have my story. Maybe… maybe you’ll change your mind and Headmaster Grimm can fix your page. Or maybe someone else can take your place as the Evil Queen. I will get my Happily Ever After. But you, Raven, you never will.”

  Apple walked away, surrounded by a crowd of friends. Every one of them looked back to glare again at Raven.

  Raven felt everything at once—sad, hurt, angry, happy, hopeful, excited. A whole storybook of emotions battled inside her. She didn’t know what to say, how to use this storm of energy. She wanted to dance hard. No, she wanted to sing.

  Onstage, Sparrow Hood and his Merry Men were playing the Legacy Day anthem. Raven doubted whether that crew cared one way or another about signing the Storybook of Legends. But perhaps out of respect for the Royals, they sang the song low and slow, like a funeral march. Not a particularly great funeral march, either. The sound system screeched with feedback, and the music wailed like a lovesick cat.

  Dexter joined her. “Hey,” he said.

  “I was never a fan of Legacy Day,” said Raven, “but I’ve always loved this tune. At least, when it’s sung well.”

  “Then sing it,” said Dexter.

  “Yes, yes, sing your song, Raven Queen,” said Maddie. “Sing, sing, sing!”

  “Okay,” said Raven. It had become a day of unexpected choices for Raven. She’d never been on a stage before. But she jumped up there now, took a spare microphone, and started to sing along with Sparrow.

  “Hey,” he said. “Get off my stage.”

  Raven almost did. The stares from the crowd made her feel as if she were being pelted with pebbles and tomatoes. But she was singing, and for the first time in a long time, she felt all right with herself.

  “Off!” Sparrow shouted. “Get off!”

  The Merry Men’s music faltered and stopped, but the drums kept going.

  “Enough with the drums,” said Sparrow.

  “But she’s got a wicked-bluesy voice, man.” The drummer shrugged and kept playing a nice slow beat.

  Sparrow blinked as if surprised one of his goons would dare disobey him. He started toward the drummer, but Maddie shook her hat upside down on the stage. Out came the pig Snoof Piddle-dee-do. He snuffled at Sparrow’s feet.

  “Scat!” said Sparrow. “Shoo!”

  The pig seemed to like the smell of Sparrow’s green booties and chased him around the stage, trying to nibble the toes. Sparrow fled the attack, crashing into the cymbals, knocking over an amp, and finally running offstage.

  The guitarists and bassist shrugged, too, and started to play along with the drummer, and Raven sang the Legacy Day song.

  Believe that everything is waiting for you.

  Accept that your life is set in stone.

  It’s time to take your promised tale

  and become the person you’ve always known.

  But the words no longer felt true to Raven. She looked back at the drummer and, smiling, snapped her fingers in a faster rhythm. He fell into a rock-and-rol
l beat. The guitarist and bassist laid into their instruments. And the Merry Men rocked it like Rockabye Baby’s cradle. This bough was about to break.

  Raven bobbed her head. She took center stage. And she changed the words.

  It’s an open book, a road in reverse,

  a brand-new hook—forget that curse.

  It’s a rebel cause with a royal heart.

  Rewrite, ignite, restart.

  A few people in the crowd sang back, “Rewrite, ignite, restart!”

  “Yeah!” said Raven into the microphone. She put her fist in the air, for the first time in her life unafraid. “Rewrite, ignite, restart, Ever After High!”

  Some of the crowd cheered.

  Raven kept on singing.

  Soon, half the room was singing with her, including Maddie, Hunter, Cedar, Cerise, Kitty, and Cupid. Did she see Dexter Charming bobbing his head? Good old Dexter. But his brother Daring was glaring at Raven as if he could shoot arrows with his eyes. And maybe he could. She’d seen him swordfight holding the sword with his feet. And win.

  Briar, Ashlynn, and the other princesses stood by, watching but not singing. Briar couldn’t help nodding to the beat. The girl loved a good dance tune. Regret still stung Ashlynn’s eyes. Behind Briar’s back, she reached out. From nearby, Hunter reached forward, and in the shadows they held hands.

  Raven’s beautiful, perfect roommate, Apple, looked like she would shrivel up and cry. But then her chin stuck out, her shoulders went back, her head raised. Apple’s determined expression gave Raven mother-goosebumps. This wasn’t over. Apple hadn’t given up on Raven or their story.

  Raven felt that pit in her stomach roll around and threaten to grow into a beanstalk of guilt. Maybe she’d destroyed Apple’s story. But even more she hoped that now everyone might have a chance at an unexpected, unwritten, unsung story that would be, as Blondie would say, just right.

  Raven kept singing. The future was as uncertain as a Wonderlandian riddle. But for Raven, at least, the Legacy Day dance was Happily Ever After.

  SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE’S DOING,” Milton Grimm muttered as he fled the ruined Legacy Day ceremony. “She doesn’t know what she’s done!”