by M. A. Larson
“Is everyone ready?”
One by one, each of them nodded. Then they stood and followed the last few cadets to the door. While they were eating, the rain had slowed, and now it had stopped with only the occasional flurry of drops that quickly faded to cool, dry air. Evie, Maggie, and Demetra stepped outside and waited by the road, just above a large muddy puddle.
Moments later, Basil came out to join them. “She’s on her way. And Princess Hazelbranch is still in there tidying up.”
“This is it,” said Evie. “No turning back.”
“No turning back,” said Maggie.
Just then, the door opened and Princess Lankester emerged. She was small and silver, with a scowl on her face and an urgency in her step.
“Pardon me, Princess?” said Evie, her voice shaking.
“Yes, what is it?”
“We need to speak to you. It’s rather important.” Evie nodded to Basil, who slipped back inside to watch for Hazelbranch.
Lankester’s mouth curled down into a frown. She stood a head shorter than any of them, and up close she looked a bit like an overgrown doll playing dress-up. “Well?”
Evie was cowed. She looked to Demetra and Maggie for help.
“Get on with it before this wind cuts me in two.”
“We have some information,” said Maggie. “It’s . . . a bit sensitive.”
“This is becoming ever so tedious, girls.”
Maggie nodded to Evie. “Show her.”
Evie took the letters from the pocket of her dress and handed them to Lankester.
“What’s this?”
“Open them,” said Evie.
With trembling fingers, Lankester opened the first parchment and began to read. Then, without a word, she opened the other. “How long have you had these?”
“The first one came a few months ago, and that one is from last night.”
Lankester carefully folded the parchments, but made no attempt to give them back. “Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve caused me?”
“We weren’t sure that—”
“I have been screaming into the sea that this is a different Vertreiben than it has been in the past. You three have successfully kept from me any real evidence I needed to protect us from them.”
“But, Princess, there’s more—”
“Beatrice scoffed when I mentioned the Drudenhaus! Dismissed me as a crackpot! To her, I have served as nothing more than a clanging alarm bell with no emergency in sight. I could have used these letters, girls!”
“There’s more, Princess, please—”
Basil burst out the door. “She’s coming!”
“Princess Lankester, you’ve got to listen!” said Maggie. “The letter says that someone inside the Academy is more than she seems. We believe that it’s referring to Princess Hazelbranch.”
“Princess Hazelbranch?” said the incredulous old woman.
“Hurry!” said Basil.
“Evie’s seen her sneaking about late at night. She’s got someone else in here now. A woman. We think the two of them might be working with the Vertreiben.”
Lankester looked from Maggie to Evie, her face contorted in disbelief and anger.
“It’s true, Princess,” said Evie, her voice filled with urgency. “I heard her tell this woman that it would be bad if she was seen. She’s got her hidden away in some dungeon somewhere and no one from the staff knows it, not even Beatrice!”
“Princess Hazelbranch . . .”
“We think she’s helping them to orchestrate a raid on the Academy—”
“Here she comes!” hissed Basil.
“Please, Princess Lankester,” said Evie. “You’ve got to help us!”
They all fell silent as the door opened and Princess Hazelbranch emerged. She had a smile on her face and a small platter of food in her hands. Lankester’s eyes went from the platter to Hazelbranch’s face.
“Well, hello, everyone,” said Hazelbranch. “What a lovely after—”
Shing! Her words were sliced off by a sword being unsheathed. Like the strike of a snake, Lankester had a blade pressed to Hazelbranch’s throat. The platter clanged to the ground.
“What are you doing?” yelped Evie.
“Princess, stop!” shouted Maggie.
Lankester’s eyes bored into Hazelbranch’s. “You’ll receive full and sincere apologies should they be necessary. Barring that, I’ve got some questions for you.”
“Put the sword down!” called Demetra. “Are you mad?”
“It’s all right, girls,” said Hazelbranch, though her soothing voice contained a ripple of fear. “It’s all right. Is this really necessary, Princess Lankester?”
“I’m not sure,” said the old lady. “Why don’t we step away from this busy road and find out? Over there, please.” She nodded to the side of the Dining Hall, where they would be more concealed.
Hazelbranch stepped very carefully and slowly, the blade hovering just in front of her neck.
“Princess Lankester, please put that away!” said Maggie, but the old woman ignored them all.
Once they were in the shadows between the Dining Hall and a retaining wall, Lankester backed Hazelbranch against the wall. The cadets stood to the side, afraid to come too close.
“What’s this about, Princess Lankester?” said Hazelbranch. “I’m certain that whatever the problem is, we can figure it out together.”
“This is about deception. Collusion. Treachery.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Are you harboring someone at the Academy, Princess?”
“Me? What are you—”
Lankester bared her teeth and leaned forward. The point of the sword pressed into Hazelbranch’s skin.
“Stop!” called Demetra.
“Who are you hiding?” hissed Lankester. “Answer very carefully.”
“You’re making a mistake,” said Hazelbranch, and for the first time, her calm began to crack. She was panicked.
“Take me to her. Whether you’re witch or Vertreiben makes no difference to me. I’m as good with my heart as I am this blade. Either way, you’ll be dead before you even think of trying something.”
Hazelbranch had gone ashen. She sniffled back tears, then nodded her assent. Lankester’s tiny, shriveled face looked as fierce as a lion’s. She slid the blade back into its scabbard, which was hidden inside her dress.
Evie looked at her old House Princess and tried to make sense of what was happening. For as shocking as Lankester’s actions had been, there was no doubt that Princess Hazelbranch had the look of someone who had been caught.
“March,” said Lankester. Hazelbranch wiped her eyes and began to walk around the Dining Hall and up into campus. Lankester was right behind her, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword. Evie, Maggie, Demetra, and Basil followed behind her. They were huddled close, terrified of what might happen next.
Hazelbranch walked slowly and deliberately through campus, her slippers splashing through the mud puddles that had formed that morning. She entered a small castle in the first ring. It was silent inside, so silent that their nerves coiled even tighter.
“I hope you’re not thinking of trying to lose us in here,” snarled Lankester. “There’s never been a castle built that I couldn’t escape.”
Without a word, Hazelbranch took a large candle from a sconce and led them through the main hall. They went down a corridor that twisted and turned until it finally ended in a stairway that led down to a lower level.
The dungeon.
“I beg you, Princess Lankester. This is not what you think it is, and for all of our sakes you should—”
“Go,” said the old woman. “Now.”
Hazelbranch, who looked as though she was going to be sick, started down the stairs. The candle threw jagged
shadows off the stone walls. There was a steady drip from somewhere in the darkness. Finally, when they reached the bottom of the staircase, Hazelbranch reached into her dress and removed a key. She opened a thick wooden door, barred with iron spikes, and entered the dungeon. There were several candles lit, but it was still dank and dark, and thick with ghosts. The corridor split in two directions, with cells along each wall. They were sealed with iron bars. Hazelbranch led them to the right. Each cell they passed contained a smattering of straw for a bed and several iron hooks and chains attached to the walls. Finally, when they reached the end of the corridor, they found a cell whose door was open wide. Hazelbranch stopped, her back facing them all.
“Please,” said Hazelbranch. Even her voice sounded different now. It was deeper. More brittle.
“Go on,” said Lankester.
Hazelbranch didn’t move.
“Go on!”
“You can come out,” said Hazelbranch softly.
Nothing happened for several seconds. Evie clutched Demetra’s arm, her eyes fixed on the open cell door.
“I’m warning you, Hazelbranch,” said Lankester. “I will cut down whatever you’ve got in there if you try anything.”
“It’s all right,” said Hazelbranch. “You can come out now.”
Finally, a hand appeared on the stone. The woman Evie had seen with Hazelbranch that night peeked out and looked at them, fear in her eyes.
“Come out of there,” said Lankester, unsheathing her sword. “Slowly.”
The woman limped into the corridor and stood next to Hazelbranch, who turned to face them.
Lankester stepped forward and raised the sword to the mysterious woman. “Who are you? Vertreiben? Are you Order of the Fang?”
The woman, her breath coming fast, looked up at Princess Hazelbranch. Her eyes were sad. Regretful, thought Evie. They look regretful.
“Answer me! My patience is scarce!”
“This is my sister,” said Princess Hazelbranch. “Well . . . my stepsister, actually. This is Princess Javelle.”
“What’s she doing here? And why are the two of you sneaking about in the dark of night?”
“I came to warn her,” said Javelle. “She’s in terrible danger.”
“She certainly is. Anyone who threatens Pennyroyal Academy in my presence should consider themselves in terrible danger.”
“What?” said Javelle. “She hasn’t threatened anything! She’s the one being threatened!”
“Princess Lankester, if you’d only let me explain,” said Hazelbranch.
“Her,” said Lankester, pointing the sword at Javelle. “I want to hear it from her.”
Javelle looked up at Hazelbranch, who closed her eyes and nodded.
“My sister—my other sister—has always been a bit . . . disturbed,” said Javelle. “I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly fifteen years, but she somehow found me. Tracked me to my village and kidnapped me from my bed at knifepoint. She took me to a horrible place and . . .” Javelle sniffled and looked at the floor as her tears began to fall. “She tortured me. Just as she had when we were younger. It went on for days until finally I couldn’t take any more.”
“Why? What did she want?”
“Her,” said Javelle, looking up at Hazelbranch. “Javotte has been looking for her for years.”
“Did you say Javotte?” said Lankester. And for once, the unflappable Vertreiben hunter seemed shaken.
“I’m afraid Javotte is also my stepsister,” said Hazelbranch.
“So you admit it!” said Lankester. “Your sister is the leader of the Vertreiben!”
“No, Princess, you don’t understand,” said Hazelbranch, slowly shaking her head. “Perhaps the only one who wants me dead more than Calivigne is Javotte. She’s hated me from the moment we met.”
The water continued to drip from somewhere in the shadows. Evie’s mind was reeling as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing.
“I’ll explain everything, Princess Lankester, just, please . . . take the sword away from my sister.”
Lankester’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, the blade began to fall. She didn’t sheath it. Instead, she held it in front of her with both hands, ready for anything. Except, perhaps, what came next.
“My name isn’t Hazelbranch. I’m afraid it was necessary for me to disguise my identity with a sister like Javotte on the loose. You see, many years ago, all three of us attended the Academy. Javotte, obviously, never graduated. When Javelle and I did, it drove an even deeper wedge between us. It was always my fear that Javotte might end up with the Vertreiben one day. As deranged as she is, she is equally charismatic.”
“When I escaped her house of torture, I knew I had to find my sister before she did,” said Javelle, looking up at Hazelbranch again. “I had to warn her that Javotte is coming, and she’s bringing an army with her.”
“Offering no offense, Princess Hazelbranch, or whatever your name is,” said Basil, adopting the professorial tone he sometimes did when puzzling through new information. “Why would your sister go to all the trouble of reassembling this secret society and then marching it across the land just to kill you?”
“Well, Basil, it’s because of my real name.”
“Which is?”
Hazelbranch took a deep breath and shared a meaningful look with Javelle. Then she turned back to the group and smiled. “My name is Cinderella.”
No one said a word. The water drip drip dripped down the corridor.
“My stars,” said Lankester.
Maggie fainted dead away.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I didn’t see it!” said Maggie, a smile emblazoned across her face. “When Cinderella’s father went away, he asked the girls what they’d like him to bring back from his travels. One wanted beautiful dresses. The other wanted pearls and jewels. That was Javotte and Javelle! But Cinderella,” she said, raising her finger, “asked him only to bring back the first branch that brushed his hat on the way home. And it was a hazel branch!”
“It is rather incredible, isn’t it? Cinderella, our old House Princess,” said Demetra.
“It certainly qualifies as ‘more than she seems,’” said Basil, watching Demetra with a nervous grimace. Much to his unease, she had his sword in her hand and was absently slashing the air. The four of them were in his storehouse taking advantage of the free hour between supper and lights-out. “That’s not quite right, Demetra. If you’ll just hand me back the sword, I’d be happy to show you a proper strike.”
“It certainly is incredible,” said Evie. She was sitting atop an old grain barrel, deep in thought. “But it’s also seriously bloody dangerous.”
Maggie continued pacing around the storehouse, telling the story as though she were the only person there. Nothing could disrupt her bliss. “Cinderella took that hazel branch and planted it on her mother’s grave . . .”
“Dangerous?” said Demetra, nearly hacking Basil’s hand off.
“Javotte tortured her sister just to find out where Cinderella was. And now she knows,” said Evie. “She’s here.”
“Her grief at her mother’s death caused her to weep, and her tears watered the branch until it turned into a beautiful tree. There were two white birds who lived in the hazel tree and helped Cinderella with every awful task her stepmother presented her . . .”
“That’s got to be why the witches are standing down,” said Evie, slamming her fist in her hand. “Lankester was right. They are in league with the Vertreiben, and they’re letting them do the dirty work!” She jumped down and began to pace next to Maggie. One paced in ecstasy, one in worry. “If Cinderella is captured, we’ll lose the most iconic princess in all the land. We can’t let that happen!”
“That blade is awfully sharp, Demetra, and you’ve really got to apply immense focus to—YOW!” Basil jumped back just as she took another careless swipe, nearly s
licing him in two.
“This is fun!” she said. “I can see why you went to that knights’ course.”
“It’s not fun, it’s a dangerous weapon!”
“It wouldn’t make any difference to the witches who captured her,” said Evie, as much to herself as anyone. “As long as Cinderella is dead or in chains, the result is the same. A princess’s currency is hope. Hazelbranch herself told me that. If the witches or the Vertreiben or whoever else can capture the greatest princess ever to live, then what hope is there for the rest of us?”
“The birds in the hazel tree knew all along that Cinderella was a true princess. They helped her see it for herself, and that helped her prove it to everyone else . . .”
“If you’ll just allow me to show you,” said Basil, easing the sword from Demetra’s hand.
“So what do we do?” said Demetra. “If their goal is to capture Cinderella, surely they won’t care who dies in the process. They even said in their last threat that they’d burn the Academy to the ground.”
“Why can’t we just wait?” said Basil. “Princess Lankester has gone off to confront Javotte, and you saw how well she handled Hazelbranch. If anyone can handle her stepsister, it’s that old bird.”
“But what if she can’t?” said Evie. “Javotte sounds like a maniac.” She thought for a moment. “We’ve got to get Cinderella out of the Academy. Just as the last letter said.”
“Are you mad?” said Demetra. “According to Javelle, there are Vertreiben everywhere! At least here we’ve got the wall to protect us.”
“All it would take is one other person to be working with them. Just one. And the wall might as well not even be there. Do you trust everyone in here that much?” Evie chewed her fingernail. Her mind was racing. Maggie’s mind, meanwhile, was still in the clouds.
“The birds told the prince that the stepsisters weren’t the true owners of the slipper, and that Cinderella was. The same birds who wouldn’t have been there if there hadn’t been a tree, and a tree that wouldn’t have been there if there hadn’t been a hazel branch!” Maggie flopped down on Basil’s pallet and let her arms fall straight out. The smile looked as though it might remain on her face forever.