Ever After High

by Heather Alexander

  “The Good King solves all the kingdom’s problems, right? He’ll know if it’s your fate or if it’s a curse. It’s your turn now,” encouraged Cerise. “He’s your dad, ever after all.”

  “You’re right.” Raven turned to Red, Mr. Badwolf, and Cerise. “My visit was super spelltacular, but would it be okay if I left a little early?”

  Then Raven sent her dad a hext:

  be home soon. rlly need 2 talk 2 u!!!!! xoxo

  Raven hurried to the well. Before she jumped in, she crossed her fingers and toes. Would the Good King be waiting when she got back to the castle?

  Diary Entry

  Home, sweet home!!!! Have you ever gone away, even for a short time, and then come home and crawled into your own bed with your own pillow? It’s fableous!

  Here’s what happened.…

  Dad was waiting for me!!! Before I said anything, he gave me the biggest hug. Cook made us steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and we sat together in the great room in front of a roaring fire. I spilled my spells and told him everything.

  He thought the idea of me becoming evil was Royally Ridiculous. He listed tons of good things I’ve done, like:

  • When my mom’s horse, Midnight, was sick, I sat in her stall and sang to her all night long.

  • I always share my thronecakes, even though it’s my favorite dessert (or at least it was…).

  Dad reminded me that all kids are a mixture of both their parents. Some kids take after their mother more, some take after their father more, some kids have equal doses of both parents, and some are completely unique. I can’t deny I have a bit of my mother in me, but Dad said I inherited her passion and her resolve—not her wicked ways.

  I think he’s right about that.

  He said that good people make mistakes and sometimes do things they wish they hadn’t, but that’s okay. It’s what’s in my heart that counts. If I believe in myself one hundred percent, no evil spell can make me into something I’m not. Plus, in order for that curse to work, I would’ve had to be evil in my core. And that’s so not me.

  I am good.

  I am good!

  I am good!

  Wow! I feel a zillion times better just writing it. From now on, I’m going to stay confident and not let others label me—even my mom.

  Then I asked my dad to smell me. He was totally confused, but he did it.

  “You smell like chocolate, well water, roses…” he said. “And broccoli.”

  Hex no! The curse didn’t make me evil, but maybe it…

  How do I get rid of the hextra helping of troll my mother served me?!

  I was about to run to the mirror and confront her, but Dad asked if I still wanted to ride by his side at the races. If so, I needed to change into riding breeches and saddle up a horse pronto.

  A no-brainer! Off to the races!

  Oh… I almost forgot the best part. My dad apologized for being so busy. He hadn’t realized how much I needed him. He told me that in the whole entire kingdom, I’m always #1 for him.

  How great is that?

  Spell you later,

  Raven

  s four jet-black stallions pulled her royal carriage up to the front doors of Ever After High, Raven peered out the window, scanning the drop-off line for a certain familiar face. Ashlynn Ella stepped delicately out of her pumpkin carriage, wearing only one high-heeled shoe and the other foot bare. Daring Charming was in the middle of telling Dexter and Darling some long-winded story while they rolled their eyes and laughed. Holly O’Hair read a book under the large elm tree while Poppy O’Hair braided a strand of her hair. Their sunburned, freckled noses told Raven that the daughters of Rapunzel spent their Spring Break outside on their balcony.

  But where was Faybelle?

  More than ever after, Raven suspected she had traces of troll in her. This morning she’d noticed that her fingernails and toenails had the strangest greenish tinge to them now. She’d never been close enough to a troll to study their gnarled nails, but she was pretty sure they were green.

  Raven stepped down, and Cedar Wood rushed over, eager to share stories about her boat trip with her father. But Raven’s attention was soon drawn to syncopated clapping echoing from the courtyard. She excused herself to hurry over to the cheerhexers.

  Welcome back! Hello!

  Ready? (clap) Let’s do it! (clap, clap)

  On the final clap, she caught Faybelle’s eye. “We need to talk.”

  “What-ever-after.” Faybelle tightened her high ponytail. “Some privacy, please.” The cheerhexers obeyed immediately, flying off in a line and pumping their fists in the air as if departing a bookball field at halftime.

  Faybelle crossed her arms impatiently. “What’s up, Raven?”

  “Hmm, maybe that cursed thronecake you gave me?” Raven stood eye-to-eye with her.

  “What thronecake?” Faybelle asked. She was playing innocent.

  “Oh please. You’ve been helping the Evil Queen again! I don’t know what you have up your wing, and I don’t really care. You can make your own mistakes, but I don’t want any part of it.”

  “News flash! Not everything revolves around you, Raven.” Faybelle smirked.

  “I know that, but when it comes to my mother, it seems to. She used you to get to me. We don’t agree on a lot of things, but I’ve heard you in class and you’re really smart. You deserve better than being my mother’s messenger.”

  Faybelle blinked at the unhexpected compliment. Then she leaned close, so her upturned nose almost touched Raven’s. “So, did you eat it?”

  Raven nodded.

  “It didn’t work, did it? You still seem so nice. Or”—she clapped her hands over her mouth to control a sudden fit of giggles—“did you turn into a troll?”

  “No!” Raven refused give Faybelle the satisfaction. Besides, she hadn’t turned into a total troll, although she did yearn to crouch under the nearby table.

  “A fairy can hope, can’t she?” Faybelle sighed.

  “Did you give the Evil Queen a book from the Vault of Lost Tales?” Raven asked.

  “Maybe.” Faybelle inspected her light-blue manicure, refusing to meet Raven’s gaze. This was probably as close to a confession as Raven was going to get.

  Faybelle shifted uncomfortably. “Listen, are you going to tell Headmaster Grimm that I sneaked up to the attic without permission and talked to the Evil Queen? Are you going to tell him about the cursed thronecake? I’ve been in trouble before. I think Headmaster Grimm will hexpel me this time.”

  As upset as Raven was with Faybelle, she didn’t want her to be kicked out of school. “I won’t say anything. But you should stop talking to my mother. Her dark power is stronger than you can even imagine. She’s hextremely dangerous… even to you.”

  Faybelle gave the smallest nod, but Raven doubted she would follow her warning.

  “Hey, Raven.” Faybelle turned to leave. “Thanks.”

  Raven would have preferred a full-out apology, but she let it go. Faybelle was a supporting character in this play. She needed to confront the woman in the spotlight. She headed directly for Headmaster Grimm’s office.

  “Ms. Queen!” Headmaster Grimm adjusted his silk necktie and stood from his chair as she entered the wood-paneled room. “What brings you here?”

  Raven didn’t mention Faybelle.

  “May I have permission to talk to my mother?” She worked to keep her voice light, as if this were a normal call home.

  “Didn’t you just come from your castle?”

  “I did, but it was so busy.” She began to describe the Princes Race in detail, down to the number of buttons on each prince’s shirt. She knew Headmaster Grimm was a busy man with little patience.

  “Fine, fine.” He dipped his quill pen in blue ink and signed his name to a special pass. “Off you go. Be back in time for the assembly in the Charmitorium.”

  As Raven climbed the attic stairs, she concentrated on taking big gulps of air to slow her rapidly beating heart.

&nb
sp; I’ve got this, she reminded herself.

  The Evil Queen’s curse had failed to turn her wicked. Her mother couldn’t make her be something she wasn’t.

  “I’m back!” Raven called out.

  The Evil Queen materialized in the mirror. Her black velvet ball gown had tight sleeves that tapered to razor-sharp points on her hands. A thorny tiara rested on her dark hair, and her lips were painted blood-red. “I like the force of your greeting. No more of that wishy-washy stuff. You got me just before my party started. Granted, it’s a party of one, since I’m all alone here. So, tell me… how was Spring Break? What deliciously dastardly deeds did you do?”

  “It was really fun. I destroyed Cook’s clean kitchen. I ruined Red’s picnic with an army of fire-breathing ants. Oh, and I tripped Cerise to win a race!” Raven forced herself to sound hexcited.

  “My girl!” The Queen’s violet eyes blazed with delight. “Didn’t I tell you how royally wonderful it is to embrace your wicked ways?”

  “Now that I’ve started, I want to do more.” Raven kept the smile plastered to her face. It was important for her mother to think her curse had worked. “Mr. Badwolf told me that the most terrifying curses aren’t in our hextbooks. Can you believe they keep them locked away in the Vault of Lost Tales? There’s one red book that has the worst spells, but”—she sighed for effect—“no one is powerful enough to get to that book.”

  The Evil Queen let out a long, loud cackle. “I am powerful enough!”

  “But you’re locked up. Oh well, it would’ve been so great if I could see that book. I’d love to, um, try some of those evil spells.…”

  “Never underestimate your mother. I have your precious book.”

  “Really?” Raven gasped in fake surprise.

  “Of course,” the Queen replied before disappearing momentarily. She returned, cradling the slim book in her hands. “Here it is—the darkest of the dark magic. What kind of spell shall we conjure together? What if we curse that brat Apple White with flaky foot fungus?”

  “May I see the book?” Raven asked. “I’d like to choose the spell.”

  “Love that go-get-’em attitude!” The Evil Queen pushed the book against the mirror’s glass. “Give me your hand, my evil darling daughter.”

  Raven’s arm twitched, but she resisted reaching through. Breaking the mirror with her hand would set her mother free, and then terror would reign.

  “Just toss me the book,” Raven responded.

  “If you are truly evil, you’ll help me escape. We will rule together!”

  Raven squared her shoulders and held her chin high. “I refuse to share. I am the future Evil Queen, so I decide when and how you escape from mirror prison, Mother. Throw me that book—now !”

  The Queen didn’t move.

  Had Raven gone too far? Was she about to feel the Evil Queen’s wrath?

  Raven didn’t need to worry. The Queen’s heart swelled with pride. Her daughter was breathtakingly evil! The haughty tone and the sneering disdain had been pitch-perfect. She tossed the book to her daughter.

  Raven scooped it off the dusty floor and flipped through the brittle, yellowed pages. Merman Fins. Happiness Hiccups.

  Where was it?

  Then she landed on Evil Igniter.

  “Did you find something wicked?” Her mother craned her neck for a glimpse.

  “Wicked, yes.” Raven scowled and turned to the back of the book for the counter curse. “And that’s what I came to fix.”

  She squinted at the tiny calligraphy. All she had to do was read the words while she put her index finger in her ear. She thought back on all the magic gone wrong. What if she messed this up, too? Would she get more troll-like?

  The Evil Queen waited impatiently. The balance of power had shifted, and for the first time in a while, Raven felt in control and confident. Her belief in herself surpassed her mother’s magic.

  She poked her finger in her ear and recited:

  Redo, repeal, reverse,

  Overturn the curse.

  Evil begone, troll no more,

  Make me as I was before.

  An electric tingle ricocheted from her eardrum to her toes and back again, causing shivers throughout her body. At the same time, a warm glow settled upon her.

  She thought about bridges. Did she want to live under one? Hex no!

  She thought about bugs. Disgusting!

  All the troll-ness was gone!

  Magic definitely worked better with confidence.

  “I just reversed your curse,” Raven boldly informed her mother. “If we’re being honest here, it wasn’t your best work. The evil part failed, because I’m not evil. And the curse was for trolls, which I certainly am not and never will be.”

  “What? B-b-but you did all those evil things. And you sounded so wicked.”

  “It was an act to trick you into giving me the book.” Raven grinned. “You need to accept that I’m not destined to be like you. Now I’m going to do the right thing and return this horrid book to Giles Grimm. He will lock it up with a spell even you can’t break, and you will never-ever-after recite another curse from it again.”

  Raven headed out of the attic and down the stairs, with the book of spells tucked safely under her arm. She didn’t bother to say good-bye.

  The Evil Queen watched her daughter depart. She wasn’t as upset as she’d thought she’d be. Sure, the curse didn’t work, but Raven was growing up and becoming more confident. Even the Evil Queen agreed—that was a good thing.

  Diary Entry

  I’m pretty impressed with myself. I reversed the curse and I’ve been writing in you every day, Diary. I’m pretty good at this diary thing. That reminds me.… Where is the other journal? I need to fill in the spells I tried over Spring Break. Baba Yaga is going to have a lot to say about all my fairy-fails!

  Guess who just walked into the room?

  Apple!!!! She’s back!

  She returned with a hextra trunk filled with brand-new ruffled skirts, silky shirts, and beautiful red shoes. Apple was so busy unpacking and modeling her fancy fishtail braid that she didn’t see my gift.

  She was hexcited when she realized it was a jar of jam, but when she realized I’d actually made the jam, she was hextra hexcited… until I confessed that Maddie and I mushed the berries with our toes. Apple looked less hexcited about the jam until I remembered to tell her that we’d washed our feet. Then I showed her the photos on my MirrorPhone, and she quickly shared them with Briar Beauty and Darling Charming. They’re already going viral.

  Apple had a present for me, too.

  She handed me a small white pastry box.

  One guess what was inside.

  You got it—a thronecake!

  I mean, really? Are we going there again?

  Apple didn’t understand when I wouldn’t eat it—after all, they used to be my favorite. Apple and I have a lot of catching up to do!

  I’m putting you away now, Diary. I need to tell Apple all about my week. And maybe she can help me find a new favorite dessert!

  Spell you later,

  Raven

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