The School for Good and Evil

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The School for Good and Evil Page 7

by Soman Chainani


  “AND IF YOU FAIL, THEN SOMETHING SO BAD WILL HAPPEN TO YOU THAT I CAN’T SAY, BUT IT INVOLVES YOU NEVER BEING SEEN AGAIN!”

  “One more and it’s the muzzle!” Pollux yelled. Castor stared at his toes.

  “None of these brilliant students will fail, I’m sure,” Pollux smiled at the relieved children.

  “You say that every time and then someone fails,” Castor mumbled.

  Sophie remembered Bane’s scared face on the wall and shuddered. She had to get to Good soon.

  “Every child in the Endless Woods dreams of being picked to attend our school. But the School Master chose you,” said Pollux, scanning both sides. “For he looked into your hearts and saw something very rare. Pure Good and Pure Evil.”

  “If we’re so pure, then what’s that?”

  An impish blond boy with spiky ears stood from Evil and pointed to Sophie.

  A burly boy from Good pointed to Agatha. “We have one too!”

  “Ours smells like flowers!” yelled a villain.

  “Ours ate a fairy!”

  “Ours smiles too much!”

  “Ours farted in our face!”

  Sophie turned to Agatha, aghast.

  “Every class, we bring two Readers here from the Woods Beyond,” Pollux declared. “They may know our world from pictures and books, but they know our rules just as well as you. They have the same talents and goals, the same potential for glory. And they too have been some of our finest students.”

  “Like two hundred years ago,” Castor snorted.

  “They are no different than the rest of you,” Pollux said defensively.

  “They look different than the rest of us,” cracked an oily, brown-skinned villain.

  Students from both schools murmured in agreement. Sophie stared down Agatha, as if to say this could all be solved with a simple costume change.

  “Do not question the School Master’s selections,” said Pollux. “All of you will respect each other, whether you’re Good or Evil, whether you’re from a famous tale family or a failed one, whether you’re a sired prince or a Reader. All of you are chosen to protect the balance between Good and Evil. For once that balance is compromised . . .” His face darkened. “Our world will perish.”

  A hush fell over the hall. Agatha grimaced. The last thing she needed was this world perishing while they were still in it.

  Castor raised his paw. “What,” Pollux groaned.

  “Why doesn’t Evil win anymore?”

  Pollux looked like he was about to bite his head off, but it was too late. The villains were rumbling.

  “Yeah, if we’re so balanced,” yelled Hort, “why do we always die?”

  “We never get good weapons!” shouted the impish boy.

  “Our henchmen betray us!”

  “Our Nemesis always has an army!”

  Hester stood. “Evil hasn’t won in two hundred years!”

  Castor tried to control himself, but his red face swelled like a balloon. “GOOD IS CHEATING!”

  Nevers leapt up in mutiny, hurling food, shoes, and anything else at hand at horrified Evers—

  Sophie slunk down in her seat. Tedros couldn’t possibly think she was one of these ugly hooligans, could he? She peeked over the bench and caught him staring right at her. Sophie pinked and ducked back down.

  Wolves and fairies pounced on the angry horde around her, but this time rainbows and water couldn’t stop them.

  “The School Master’s on their side!” Hester screamed.

  “We don’t even have a chance!” howled Hort.

  The Nevers fought past fairies and wolves, and charged the Evers’ pews—

  “It’s because you’re idiotic apes!”

  The villains looked up dumbly.

  “Now sit down before I give all of you a slap!” shrieked Pollux.

  They sat without argument. (Except Anadil’s rats, who peeked from her pocket and hissed.)

  Pollux scowled down at the villains. “Maybe if you stopped complaining, you’d produce someone of consequence! But all we hear is excuse after excuse. Have you produced one decent villain since the Great War? One villain capable of defeating their Nemesis? No wonder Readers come here confused! No wonder they want to be Good!”

  Sophie saw kids on both sides of the aisle sneak her sympathetic glances.

  “Students, all of you have only one concern here,” Pollux said, softening. “Do the best work you can. The finest of you will become princes and warlocks, knights and witches, queens and sorcerers—”

  “OR A TROLL OR PIG IF YOU STINK!” Castor spat.

  Students glanced at each other across the aisle, sensing the high stakes.

  “So if there are no further interruptions,” Pollux said, glowering at his brother, “let’s review the rules.”

  “Rule thirteen. Halfway Bridge and tower roofs are forbidden to students,” Pollux lectured onstage. “The gargoyles have orders to kill intruders on sight and have yet to grasp the difference between students and intruders—”

  Sophie found all of this dull, so she tuned out and stared at Tedros instead. She had never seen a boy so clean. Boys in Gavaldon smelled like hogs and slopped around with chapped lips, yellow teeth, and black nails. But Tedros had heavenly tan skin, dabbed with light stubble, and no hint (no chance!) of a blemish. Even after the vigorous swordfight, every last gold hair fell in place. When he licked his lips, white teeth gleamed through in perfect rows. Sophie watched a trickle of sweat crisscross his neck and vanish beneath his shirt. What does he smell like? She closed her eyes. Like fresh wood and—

  She opened her eyes and saw Beatrix subtly sniffing Tedros’ hair.

  This girl needed to be dealt with immediately.

  A headless bird landed in Sophie’s dress. She jumped on her seat, screaming and shaking her tunic until the dead canary plopped to the floor. She recognized the bird with a frown—then noticed the entire hall gaping at her. She gave her best princess curtsy and sat back down.

  “As I was saying,” Pollux said testily.

  Sophie whipped to Agatha. “What!” she mouthed.

  “We need to meet,” Agatha mouthed back.

  “My clothes,” Sophie mouthed, and turned back to the stage.

  Hester and Anadil looked at the decapitated bird, then at Agatha.

  “Her we like,” Anadil quipped, rats squeaking in agreement.

  “Your first year will consist of required courses to prepare you for three major tests: the Trial by Tale, the Circus of Talents, and the Snow Ball,” Castor growled. “After the first year, you will be divided into three tracks: one for villain and hero Leaders, one for henchmen and helper Followers, and one for Mogrifs, or those that will undergo transformation.”

  “For the next two years, Leaders will train to fight their future Nemeses,” Pollux said. “Followers will develop skills to defend their future Leaders. Mogrifs will learn to adapt to their new forms and survive in the treacherous Woods. Finally, after the third year, Leaders will be paired with Followers and Mogrifs and you will all move into the Endless Woods to begin your journeys . . .”

  Sophie tried to pay attention but couldn’t with Beatrix practically in Tedros’ lap. Fuming, Sophie picked at the glittering silver swan crest stitched on her smelly smock. It was the only tolerable thing about it.

  “Now as to how we determine your future tracks, we do not give ‘marks’ here at the School for Good and Evil,” said Pollux. “Instead, for every test or challenge, you will be ranked within your classes so you know exactly where you stand. There are 120 students in each school and we have divided you into six groups of 20 for your classes. After each challenge, you will be ranked from 1 to 20. If you are ranked in the top five in your group consistently, you will end up on the Leader track. If you score in the midrange repeatedly, you’ll end up a Follower. And if you’re consistently below a 13, then your talents will be best served as a Mogrif, either animal or plant.”

  Students on both aisles murmured, already placing
bets on who would end up a tumbo tree.

  “I must add that anyone who receives three 20s in a row will immediately be failed,” said Pollux gravely. “As I said, given the exceptional incompetence required to earn three straight last-place ranks, I am confident this rule will not apply to any of you.”

  The Nevers in her row threw Sophie a look.

  “When they put me where I belong, you’ll all feel foolish, won’t you?” Sophie shot back.

  “Your swan crest will be visible on your heart at all times,” Pollux continued. “Any attempt to conceal or remove it will likely result in injury or embarrassment, so please refrain.”

  Confused, Sophie watched students on both sides trying to cover the glittering silver swans on their uniforms. Mimicking them, she folded the droopy collar of her tunic to obscure her own swan—instantly the crest vanished off the robe and appeared on her chest. Stunned, she ran her finger over the swan, but it was embedded in her skin like a tattoo. She released the fold and the swan vanished off her skin and reappeared on the robe. Sophie frowned. Perhaps not so tolerable after all.

  “Furthermore, as the Theater of Tales is in Good this year, Nevers will be escorted here for all joint school functions,” said Pollux. “Otherwise, you must remain in your schools at all times.”

  “Why is the Theater in Good?” Dot hollered through a mouthful of fudge.

  Pollux raised his nose. “Whoever wins the Circus of Talents gets the Theater in their school.”

  “And Good hasn’t lost a Circus or Trial by Tale or, now that I think about it, any competition at this school for the last two hundred years,” Castor harrumphed. Villains started rumbling again.

  “But Good is so far from Evil!” Dot huffed.

  “Heaven forbid she has to walk,” Sophie mumbled. Dot heard and glowered at her. Sophie cursed herself. The only person who was civil to her and she had to ruin it.

  Pollux ignored the Nevers’ grumbles and droned on about curfew times, lulling half the room to sleep. Reena raised her hand. “Are Groom Rooms open yet?”

  All of a sudden the Evers looked awake.

  “Well, I was planning to discuss Groom Rooms next assembly,” Pollux said—

  “Is it true that only certain kids can use them?” asked Millicent.

  Pollux sighed. “Groom Rooms in the Good Towers are only available to Evers ranked in the top half of their class on any given day. Rankings will be posted on the Groom Room doors and throughout the castle. Please do not abuse Albemarle if he’s behind on posting them. Now as to curfew rules—”

  “What are Groom Rooms?” Sophie whispered to Hester.

  “Where Evers primp, preen, and get their hair done,” Hester shuddered.

  Sophie sprang up. “Do we have Groom Rooms?”

  Pollux pursed his lips. “Nevers have Doom Rooms, dear.”

  “Where we get our hair done?” Sophie beamed.

  “Where you’re beaten and tortured,” Pollux said.

  Sophie sat down.

  “Now curfew will occur at precisely—”

  “How do you become Class Captain?” Hester asked. The question and the presumptuous tone behind it instantly made her unpopular on both sides of the aisle.

  “If you all flunk curfew inspections, don’t blame me!” Pollux groaned. “All right. After the Trial by Tale, the top-ranked students in each school will be named Class Captain. These two students will have special privileges, including private study with select faculty, field trips into the Endless Woods, and the chance to train with renowned heroes and villains. As you know, our Captains have gone on to be some of the greatest legends in the Endless Woods.”

  While both sides buzzed, Sophie gritted her teeth. She knew if she could just get to the right school, she’d not only be Good’s Captain, she’d end up more famous than Snow White.

  “This year you will have six required classes in your individual schools,” Pollux went on. “The seventh class, Surviving Fairy Tales, will include both Good and Evil and takes place in the Blue Forest behind the schools. Also please note, both Beautification and Etiquette are for Good girls only, while Good boys will have Grooming and Chivalry instead.”

  Agatha woke from her stupor. If she didn’t have enough reasons to escape, the thought of a Beautification class was the last straw. They had to get out of here tonight. She turned to an adorable girl next to her, with narrow brown eyes and short black hair, fixing her lipstick in a pocket mirror.

  “Mind if I borrow your lipstick?” Agatha asked.

  The girl took one look at Agatha’s ashy, cracked lips and thrust it at her. “Keep it.”

  “Breakfast and supper will take place in your school supper halls, but you’ll all eat lunch together in the Clearing,” Castor grunted. “That is, if you’re mature enough to handle the privilege.”

  Sophie felt her heart race. If the schools ate their lunches together, tomorrow would be her first chance to talk to Tedros. What would she say to him? And how would she get rid of that beastly Beatrix?

  “The Endless Woods beyond the school gates are barred to first-year students,” said Pollux. “And though that rule may fall on deaf ears for the most adventurous of you, let me remind you of the most important rule of all. One that will cost you your lives if you fail to obey.”

  Sophie snapped to attention.

  “Never go into the Woods after dark,” said Pollux.

  His cuddly smile returned. “You may return to your schools! Supper is at seven o’clock sharp!”

  As Sophie rose with the Nevers, mentally rehearsing her lunch meeting with Tedros, a voice ripped through the chatter—

  “How do we see the School Master?”

  The hall went dead silent. Students turned, shell-shocked.

  Agatha stood alone in the aisle, glaring up at Castor and Pollux.

  The twin-headed dog jumped off the stage and landed a foot from her, splashing her with drool. Both heads glared into Agatha’s eyes, wearing the same ferocious expression. It wasn’t clear who was who.

  “You don’t,” they growled.

  As fairies whisked flailing Agatha to the east door, she passed Sophie for an instant, just long enough to thrust out a rose petal marred by a lipstick message: “BRIDGE, 9 PM.”

  But Sophie never saw it. Her eyes were locked on Tedros, a hunter stalking its prey, until she was shoved from the hall by villains.

  Right then and there, the problem smashed Agatha in the face. The one that had plagued them all along. For as the two girls were pulled to their opposing towers, their opposing desires couldn’t have been clearer. Agatha wanted her only friend back. But a friend wasn’t enough for Sophie. Sophie had always wanted more.

  Sophie wanted a prince.

  6

  Definitely Evil

  The next morning, fifty princesses dashed about the fifth floor as if it was their wedding day. On the first day of class, they all wanted to make their best impressions on teachers, boys, and anyone else who might lead them to Ever After. Swans twinkling on nightgowns, they flurried into each other’s rooms, glossing lips, poofing hair, buffing nails, and trailing so much perfume that fairies passed out and littered the hall like dead flies. Still no one seemed any closer to being dressed, and indeed, when the clock tolled 8:00 a.m., signaling the start of breakfast, not a single girl had put on her clothes.

  “Breakfast makes you fat anyway,” Beatrix reassured.

  Reena poked her head into the hall. “Has anyone seen my panties!”

  Agatha certainly hadn’t. She was free-falling through a dark chute, trying to remember how she found Halfway Bridge the first time. Honor Tower to Hansel’s Haven to Merlin’s Menagerie . . .

  After landing on the beanstalk, she crept through the dim Gallery of Good, until she found the doors behind the stuffed bears. Or was it Honor Tower to Cinderella Commons . . . Still mulling the correct route, she threw open the doors to the stair room and ducked. The palatial glass lobby was packed with faculty in their colorful dresses and sui
ts, mingling before class. Neon-haired nymphs in pink gowns, white veils, and blue lace gloves floated about the foyer, refilling teacups, frosting biscuits, and flicking fairies off sugar cubes. From behind the doors, Agatha peeked at the stairs marked HONOR, lit by high stained glass windows, far across the crowd. How could she get past them all?

  She felt something scrape her leg and turned to find a mouse gnawing her petticoat. Agatha kicked the mouse away, which tumbled into the paws of a stuffed cat. The mouse screeched, then saw the cat was dead. It gave Agatha its dirtiest look and marched back into its hole in the wall.

  Even the vermin here hate me, she sighed as she tried to salvage her petticoat. Her fingers stopped as they ran over the torn white lace. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so hard on that mouse. . . .

  A few moments later, an undersized nymph in a ragged lace veil scurried through the room for the Honor stairs. Unfortunately the veil left Agatha blind and she tripped into a nymph, who crashed into a teacher—“Heavens Saint Mary!” Clarissa moaned, dripping with prune tea. As alarmed professors dabbed at her dress, Agatha slid behind the Charity steps.

  “Those nymphs really are too tall,” Clarissa scolded. “Next thing you know they’ll knock down a tower!”

  By then, Agatha had already disappeared into Honor Tower and found her way up to Hansel’s Haven, the wing of first-floor classrooms made completely out of candy. There was a room of sparkled blue swizzles and rock sugar, glittering like a salt mine. There was a marshmallow room with white fudge chairs and gingerbread desks. There was even a room made of lollipops, blanketing the walls in rainbow colors. Agatha wondered how in the world these rooms stayed intact and then saw an inscription sweeping the corridor wall in cherry gumdrops:

  TEMPTATION IS THE PATH TO EVIL

 

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