by M. A. Larson
“Why should I take it back? It’s true!” Now she shoved Demetra.
“Stop it, girls!” hissed Evie. Now some of the nearby teams were looking over at the brewing conflict.
“I’m sick of you traipsing around here like you should just be handed a commission!” shouted Maggie. “Sorry if the rest of us get in your way with all of our hard work!”
“And I’m sick of you moping about all day because you drove Copperpot into a rage and I didn’t! That’s not my fault, it’s yours!”
Maggie lunged and Demetra ducked. The two grappled while Basil danced around them, unsure what to do. Evie looked over at Ziegenbart, who, along with the rest of the cadets, had finally noticed the scuffle.
“Let me go!”
“You let me go!”
Evie, panicked, turned to Basil. He stared back in horror.
“Girls!” bleated Ziegenbart. “Girls, what are you—”
“WOLF!” shouted Basil at the top of his lungs.
Princess Ziegenbart’s eyes went wide and her legs went stiff, and she fell over onto her side, paralyzed. Cadets screamed in terror and began running out of the classroom. Evie grabbed Maggie and pulled her away while Basil put Demetra in a hold and dragged her to the door. Moments later, when Ziegenbart was able to move her legs again, she stood. Her classroom was empty.
Evie pushed Maggie toward the road behind the screaming remnants of Leatherwolf Company while Basil manhandled Demetra next to them.
“Cadet Basil!” came Ziegenbart’s shrill voice from the classroom doorway. “Cadet Basil, get back here this instant!”
He froze, releasing Demetra. Then he raised a finger and pointed it squarely at her. “Sort this out. I don’t want to be sent home for nothing.” He aimed his finger and his glare at Maggie, then turned and ran back to the classroom to take his punishment.
“Come on,” said Evie, shoving Maggie toward a bench beneath a small copse of trees in front of a cathedral.
“She’s the one who—”
“Quiet!” Evie’s glare was at least as fearsome as Basil’s. Maggie and Demetra stopped fighting and sat on the bench. Then she stood over them, hands on her hips, and glowered. “You’re acting like fools, the both of you. Last night I was having one of the most incredible moments of my life with my dead father, and the Vertreiben ruined it, and I needed you both but I didn’t know if you’d even be there for me and that’s not right! I’ve had it with all this bickering. We need to sort this out so we can get back to the business of being friends.”
The close call in the classroom seemed to have taken some of the fight out of both of them. After several tense moments, it was Maggie who spoke first.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound at all as though she meant it.
“So am I,” said Demetra.
“Good. Now, what else do you want to say to each other?”
Maggie looked over at Demetra and her anger seemed to evaporate. “No, really. I’m sorry, Demetra. You know I love you.”
Demetra kicked a stone on the ground. “I know.”
“I’ve just been under such pressure this year.”
“I know you have, Maggie. You’re not used to getting into trouble.”
“It’s more than that, though. Much more, really.” Maggie took a deep breath and blew the air out. “This is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do, and . . . and this whole year I’ve been one tiny little mistake away from losing it.”
“I know, Maggie,” said Demetra. “It’s your dream.”
“It’s more than my dream. It’s my life. One wrong choice and I’d be forced to go back to Sevigny. And then what? What’s there for me? The same old stories from the same old people in the same old taverns. I’d shrivel up and die if I didn’t have this. I can’t live that life, but I’d have to. You . . . you’ve got this wonderful home waiting for you, and so many friends with similar interests and backgrounds. But I don’t. I’ve got nothing.”
Demetra reached over and put her hand on Maggie’s.
“You were right, Demetra, I was jealous of you. All the mean thoughts I’ve had toward you, all the times I snapped, it’s because I was so completely jealous. You had us, you had Nessa and Liv, you had your home in the Blackmarsh . . . and I’ve felt completely alone, just waiting for the ax to fall.”
“I’m so sorry, Maggie. I should have realized how you felt. I admit, it’s been quite nice having Nessa and Liv to talk to. But it’s not because we’re these highborn snobs. It’s because we’re all having a hard time seeing the point of any of it. I’ll finish here and then go back to the Blackmarsh. And then what? The Blackmarsh already has a princess, one of the best in all the land, as everyone is forever reminding me. So what does that make me? A just-in-case? A princess only if Camilla falls ill?” She picked a piece of stem off a dead leaf and threw it in the dirt. “I was born to be forgotten.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Maggie. “Lots of girls have older sisters who are princesses.”
“You don’t understand. The best outcome for me is to be married off as some sort of diplomatic tool. At least then I’d be able to breathe. To have my own identity. I don’t even exist at home.”
“You’re not a diplomatic tool, Demetra,” said Evie. “There’s a whole world out there that needs you.”
Demetra peeled off another piece of stem and threw it to the ground. Evie noticed dark spots appearing in the dirt as her tears began to fall.
“I’m sorry, Maggie,” she sniffled. “It’s not that this place means any less to me. I love it here. This is my home. But for me, it’s always been more about the friends and the camaraderie. I don’t get to see the future as widely as you do.”
Maggie leaned over and hugged Demetra. Now there were tears in her eyes as well. “I’m sorry, too, Demetra.”
They both began to sob openly, holding each other tightly. After so much strife and uncertainty, the sight made Evie’s stomach flutter. Before she knew it, she was crying, too.
“Oh, thank goodness!” she said, and then she crouched down and embraced both of her friends. The connection that had been missing for months seemed to come flooding back all at once—
“Yeah,” came a voice filled with spite and hostility. “Yeah, enjoy your little cry.” They turned to find Basil standing near the archway. He had a giant bale of straw lashed to his back and was straining under its weight. “Princess Basil to the rescue.”
Ziegenbart ambled onto the road, her bell clanging. “Up you go, Cadet. To the Queen’s Tower. Hup-hup.”
“But, Princess, I really thought I saw a wolf! Honest!”
“Move, Cadet, before I involve your fairy drillsergeant.” Basil tromped up the road toward the center of campus, the huge bale swaying dangerously atop his back. “Everything all right, ladies?”
“Yes, Princess,” said Evie with a sniffle that was also half a laugh. “We were just so terrified about that wolf.”
“‘Someone inside is more than she seems,’” said Maggie as she took a bite of her black pudding. “I think we need to approach this as though everyone is guilty until we can strike them from the list.”
“Great plan,” said Demetra. “Nessa and Liv can come off.”
“Fine. Consider them stricken. But let’s start with the staff, shall we?”
Quail stew steamed from the bowls in front of them. Evie tore off a piece of bread and dunked it in. “Rumpledshirtsleeves. He can come off the list.”
“Why?” said Demetra.
“Because the letter says ‘she.’”
“Good point. We can knock off all the woodsmen as well, then.”
“And it’s not Princess Beatrice either,” said Maggie. “No chance.”
“I didn’t think so either,” said Evie, “but I still couldn’t bring myself to show her the second letter. She’s so adamant that the Vertr
eiben aren’t a threat that it makes me a bit suspicious.”
“All right,” sighed Maggie. “As ludicrous as it is, we’ll leave her on for now.”
“Well, if we can’t rule out the Headmistress, who can we rule out?”
Just then, Basil limped up and plopped down on the bench next to Maggie. “All right, everyone? Enjoying yourselves?”
“Are you only just finishing, Bas?”
“Indeed I am. That old goat made me run to the Queen’s Tower thirty times. You’re welcome very much.”
“Sorry, Basil,” said Demetra.
“Yeah, sorry,” said Maggie. “If it makes you feel any better, we’ve worked it all out.”
“It does, actually. Pass the bread.”
Maggie handed over a seeded loaf. “We were just discussing who on the staff is more than she seems.”
“The staff?” he said, stuffing his mouth with bread. “Why are you doing that? Clearly it’s Evie.”
“What?”
“You know,” he said, washing it down with some water. “The Warrior Princess?”
Maggie and Demetra looked over at her. “I mean, I suppose it’s possible,” said Evie. “But why would someone send me a letter telling me that I’m more than I seem?”
Basil stopped chewing. “Fair point, that.”
“Right, back to the staff, then,” said Demetra. “What about Princess Hazelbranch? There’s not a chance in the world that it’s her.”
“I agree, Princess Hazelbranch can be safely struck from the list,” said Evie.
“Good, that’s one gone,” said Maggie. “What about Ziegenbart? You’ve gotten to know her fairly well, Bas. Does she seem like a traitor?”
“Yeah, what do you think, is she a turngoat?” said Demetra with a laugh.
“My heart bleats at your concern,” said Basil with a smirk.
The three of them laughed, but Evie didn’t. She stared at the steam rising from her stew as memories flashed through her head. Memories from the previous year. Memories that had suddenly become tinged with dread. She glanced over Basil’s shoulder to the staff table, where Princess Hazelbranch was chatting happily with Princess Wessin.
She remembered sitting in the latrine of the Ironbone Company barracks the previous year after a fight with Malora, her face bloodied and filthy. Princess Hazelbranch had gently brushed her hair. Evie had looked up and seen her own reflection. Hazelbranch had stared into that mirror as well, then told Evie that mirrors could see what human eyes could not, that mirrors would reveal the truth.
Evie stared at her and heard the words of Princess Ziegenbart from earlier that day: “Pay special attention when mirrors are involved. They will show you where the enemy is.”
Evie stared at Princess Hazelbranch and felt her blood run cold . . .
“GET OFF THOSE RACKS and move! The last ten cadets on the Green in full dress are going home immediately!”
Evie lurched out of a dreamless sleep to a nauseated stomach and racing heart. The barracks were dark, but everywhere there was motion. The Fairy Drillsergeant’s words caught up to her, and she flung herself out of bed. Within seconds, she was pulling her uniform over her head and lashing the belt.
“You’ve come too far, cadets! Don’t get sent off now!”
Tiny streaks shot through the air. It looked as though every fairy drillsergeant on campus was inside the Leatherwolf barracks.
“Hurry up, lassies! Time is running out!”
A stream of girls raced for the door. Evie’s stomach was in knots as she pulled on her shoes and ran. Maggie was ahead of her, but she didn’t see Demetra in her quick scan of the heads and shoulders barreling into the night. She burst through the pile-up of girls and raced to the middle of Hansel’s Green. Other cadets in dark purple dresses poured out of the Bramblestick Company barracks. Only now, as she fell in line with the rest of her company, did Evie’s brain catch up with her body. It was the middle of the night, not a stitch of daybreak to be seen. The clouds glowed gray above, with white edges, indicating a full moon hiding somewhere up there in the heavens.
“In line! In line now!”
“Are you listening? Fall in!”
Evie had never seen so many fairies in one place, and all of them shouting at the tops of their lungs. As she claimed a spot in the formation, she glanced back and saw Demetra racing out onto the grass. Thank goodness. And when she realized Basil had made it out even before she had, she knew that her closest friends were safe. For now.
“You’re out of time, girls!” came a fairy’s voice from inside the barracks.
“On the ground, Leatherwolf! Taste the grass!” bellowed the Fairy Drillsergeant. “I want fifty Court Jesters! Last ten to do it are going home! Go, go!”
The entire company dropped to the frosted grass, which crunched beneath them. Court Jesters were one of the Fairy Drillsergeant’s more horrid concoctions, a draining mixture of calisthenics that had the cadets bouncing and twisting on the ground like the titular entertainers.
Evie flew through the Court Jesters, her muscles responding much faster than her sleep-addled mind. What is going on? This can’t possibly be real. She glanced over to see Princess Copperpot and Princess Helgadoon of Bramblestick Company escorting twenty sobbing, devastated cadets across the Green toward a carriage coach waiting near the Academy’s main entrance. She fell back to the grass, halfway through her exercises.
“Oh no!” cried Demetra. “No!”
Evie paused and looked back at the cadets who were leaving. There, near the back of the twenty, was Liv. Her heart broke for Demetra. She could only imagine the heartache she’d feel if one of her best friends was discharged.
“I’m so sorry, Demetra,” she said. “But you’ve got to keep moving.”
Demetra looked at her, grief in her eyes. Slowly, Evie’s words began to sink in. She nodded, then dropped to the ground for a Court Jester. There would be no time for sorrow tonight.
Though the cadets had been doing Court Jesters for over half a year, Evie’s arms, legs, and back were already in flames by the time she hit thirty. She’d had a particularly intense sparring session with Remington earlier that day, and her muscles were not happy about this additional work. The girl next to her, a polite, quiet thing named Cadet Dragonflower, collapsed and couldn’t push herself back up.
“Come on, push!” said Evie quietly, so all the fairies floating around wouldn’t hear.
“I can’t,” said Dragonflower. Evie saw that her arms were shaking wildly, unable to support any more weight.
“You can! You’ve done millions of these! You’re just scared, that’s all. Come on, push!”
The girl screamed as she poured all of her energy into her arms. But she rose only an inch or two from the ground before they gave out.
“Cadet Dragonflower, you are dismissed!” shouted the Fairy Drillsergeant.
Evie popped to her feet, then fell back to the ground. She wanted to console the poor girl, who was now sobbing facedown in the grass, but she didn’t have time. Between Jesters, she noticed some strange things happening in the darkness of this already strange night. There were around fifteen princesses and other staff standing to the side watching. They held parchments clipped to pieces of wood, and were studying the girls closely and making notes. In addition, it seemed that the entire staff of the Infirmary was on hand, except for Princess Wertzheim, and each had a sack full of equipment and potions. One had two large baskets filled with heads of cabbage. Another stood next to a small cart that had been fashioned into a stretcher.
These distractions took her mind from the horrible, screaming pain coming from her muscles as she finished her fiftieth and final Court Jester. She stood at attention with trembling legs and waited for her company-mates to finish. Come on, Maggie. Come on, Demetra. Come on, Basil. One by one, each of them clambered to their feet. Finally, everyone
was standing in formation and trying to catch their breath. Or, almost everyone.
“Come on, Cadet Bilberry, one more!” shouted Bramblestick Company’s fairy drillsergeant. Bilberry was pushing with everything she had through gritted teeth to finish her final Court Jester. Finally, she did it, dragging her exhausted body to attention. “Congratulations, Cadet, you finished all fifty Court Jesters. Now get out of here! You’re dismissed!”
Bilberry stood for a moment, shocked, and tried to catch her breath. She glanced around at the other Bramblestick girls, but knew there was nothing more to be done. Her fairy drillsergeant floated in place, staring at her intensely, until her shoulders slumped and she began the long, awful walk to the carriage coach.
More fresh recruits for the Vertreiben, thought Evie, and a shiver ran through her.
“Well done, cadets. You’ve survived your first mission of the night,” said Bramblestick Company’s fairy drillsergeant, shouting to both second-class companies. She was the same size as Leatherwolf’s fairy drillsergeant, but she had short black hair, and her wings seemed to give off a distinctly purple dust as they flapped. “There will be three more missions, and you must complete them all before sunrise. Advance. Escape. And Evade—”
“What is that?” shrieked one of the Bramblestick cadets. Heads turned, and cadets began to gasp. Girls pointed through the darkness toward the southern end of Hansel’s Green.
There, along the moon-shimmered hillside, was a line of silhouettes, jet black in front of the glowing gray clouds. The figures’ hands were joined, and they were lurching along in a sinister dance. One wore a pointed hat. Another’s wild hair could be seen fluttering in the wind. All of the figures wore formless black robes.
“The dance of death unites us all,” said Leatherwolf’s fairy drillsergeant. “Your mission is to keep from joining that dance until the sun comes up. Welcome to Witches’ Night, cadets. Meet your witches.”
The figures danced along the hillside toward campus until the shadows swallowed them up. Girls looked at one another in confusion and horror.