by Shelby Bach
“Wow. You guys redecorated,” Amy said, suddenly appearing at my side with Lena’s second ring of return on her finger. Amy hadn’t visited EAS since sixth grade when Chase, Lena, and I were in a skit together. “I’m not sure I like it.”
I wasn’t sure either. At least the Tree of Hope was the same though, its thick branches dipping down to the ground and swerving back up to the sky. It dwarfed the brick house with white columns that had been relocated just beside it. Under the Tree’s canopy, the Table of Never Ending Instant Refills was still covered with its silver trays of food. Right now, strangers in suits surrounded it and balanced their plates on their briefcases. Some older Characters and some parents were grabbing breakfast before work. Even the shabby mismatched furniture hadn’t changed. Heavily armed Characters on call sat waiting for mission assignments, eating and brushing crumbs off their breastplates.
I knew my mother. If she wanted answers, she would go talk to the person in charge—the same way she would interview the principal every time I changed schools. I tried not to imagine what kind of scene they would make if Mildred actually opened the door. I walked toward the Director’s office. “This way,” I told Amy. The fastest route was through all the people.
Dozens of eyes flashed toward me. Hands hid mouths. Hissing whispers reached my ears.
“. . . Unwritten Tale . . .”
“. . . dueled Torlauth di Morgian. She beat him in less than . . .”
“. . .Triumvirate with Lena LaMarelle and Chase Turnleaf. The last Triumvirate . . .”
I squared my shoulders and held my head high. I schooled my face to stone, determined not to show how concerned I was about Mom. Knowing the EAS rumor mill, they would assume something worse was happening.
On the other side of the Table where she assumed I couldn’t hear her, one of the seventh graders was practically shouting the story of what had happened just last week. Her friends were pretending they hadn’t heard it a dozen times before. “. . . the Snow Queen’s trap. The villains, they drove her to the top of the skyscraper all by herself.”
I hadn’t been alone because I’d wanted to be.
I walked faster, like I could outrun the story and the memories that came with it. I sincerely hoped that Amy was too shaken up to pay attention to what these kids were saying.
Unfortunately, the seventh grader was just getting warmed up. Her back was to us. She didn’t see me and Amy getting closer. “And you know what was waiting for her? A roof full of enemies. A hundred ice griffins and wolves. They attacked, but they couldn’t even touch her. She was too fast. Then Ripper showed up, thinking he could finish Rory off. Rory couldn’t kill him, because he was—you know—a pillar. But she hurt him really bad. The Big Bad Wolf was out of commission for three whole days. And the best part?”
It wasn’t the best part. It was the worst part, the part that still made me want to puke.
“She couldn’t fight her way back to the stairs, so she tried something else,” said the seventh grader. “She jumped off the roof and had the West Wind catch—”
We drew even with the little storyteller. She spotted me and went as scarlet as Red Riding Hood’s headwear.
But mixed in with the embarrassment was happiness. Her face brightened with admiration. It was terrible to see it there. I had to figure out a way to live up to being her hero.
She couldn’t know how much I wanted my mother. I wanted Mom to hug me the way she had when I was small—I wanted her to take away all my fear by kissing my forehead and asking me who her favorite daughter was.
I nodded at the seventh grader, and she beamed back.
The rest of her friends gaped at me.
We rounded the tiny bungalow that belonged to the Princess and the Pea representative. This section of the courtyard was much quieter. A group of seniors sat on the steps of a Tudor mansion, sharpening some spearheads and arrows. Miriam waved to me.
Amy had definitely heard. “So, those rumors . . . They exaggerate, right?”
I didn’t say anything, which I guess kind of answered the question.
“You didn’t tell us,” Amy said. That accusing tone felt way too familiar.
“I did.” I didn’t lie to them anymore. “I told you that two students here, Kelly and Priya, got their Tales, and the Snow Queen set a trap for me when I went to help them.”
“You left a lot out,” Amy said. She sounded more like herself now that she was scolding me. “The wind caught you?”
“The West Wind,” I said. “He owed me some boons. I only have one left now, and I won’t use it the same way, I promise.”
“Good. Because I thought you were afraid of heights,” Amy said.
“I am. I threw up before I jumped.” I tried so hard not to think about it, but the memory was pressing in on me, so strong I tasted bile the same way I’d tasted it then.
“Your mom deserves the whole story, every time, after—”
“Amy, please.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Not a great idea. The whole terrifying scene bloomed behind my lids. The army waiting for me. All the teeth and talons trying to rip me apart. The blood pumping out of Ripper and pooling across the roof. My feet leaving solid ground, and air whipping my clothes flat and my lungs empty. That horrible instant where I was absolutely 100 percent positive that West wouldn’t reach me in time, and the instant after that, even worse, when I wondered if it would be better if he didn’t catch me.
This was why I couldn’t talk about it. I pressed my hand against my mouth, sure I would vomit again.
“Okay,” Amy said, sounding genuinely freaked out. Then, more gently, she added, “Okay. Let’s just find your mom.”
I nodded and opened my eyes. We headed around the log cabin where Darcy and Bryan’s family lived.
The amethyst door to the Director’s office came into view, and right there, banging on it, was my mother. Her hair was wild, her eyes rimmed with red.
My chest clenched. I’d wanted to move here, but not like this.
“Mom!” I called, starting to jog toward her, but she didn’t hear me. She was too busy arguing with my dad.
Just like old times.
“Mom!” I pushed my way through a herd of elementary schoolers, trying to get closer. They were too busy fighting to hear me. Totally the joyous reunion I was hoping for.
Brie, my stepmom, spotted us first. “Rory! We were so worried.” I hadn’t seen her, all tucked away in the shadows of a tall and skinny Victorian home. She had an arm around me a second later. Just one. The other had a passenger.
“Hey, Brie.” We were careful not to crush the baby she was cradling. Stepping back, I put on a hand on the infant’s back and kissed the crown of red fuzz on her head. Her hair was new. It had just started growing in this month. “Hey, Dani,” I told the baby. Dad and Brie had picked out her real name, Danica, but I’d come up with her nickname.
I’d tried to stay away from my little sister. Really, I had. The last bearer of an Unwritten Tale had driven her sister kind of insane. But I might not even live till the end of the summer. I couldn’t do that much damage in such a short amount of time, especially when she was so small. And so helpless. I couldn’t help wanting to check up on my tiny sister. Pretty much all the time.
“Maggie told us about the attack,” Brie patted the baby between her little shoulder blades. I took a bigger step back—I knew that move, and burping Dani usually ended in baby puke. “Witches? Seriously? I’m beginning to think Eric and I got off easy with trolls.”
A squadron of trolls had ambushed my dad and stepmom in Los Angeles right after school let out for the summer. The stress had convinced Dani it was time to be born, and Brie had gone into labor a month early. All three of them had moved straight from the hospital to their new EAS apartment.
My parents finally noticed me.
Mom held me so tightly, I was too breathless to tell her how sorry I was. Dad stopped just short of making it a group hug: He came up behind me and gripped both my shoulders. I closed
my eyes. For a second, I felt almost as small as Dani again—young and protected, like I did in the days when my parents could solve all my problems.
It was a nice moment. It didn’t last long.
Mom let go. It was hard to hug and yell at me at the same time, I guess. “Never ever do that again. If there’s a choice between me or you being safe, it should always be you. I don’t want to be safe if you’re still in danger. Do you understand?”
I nodded. Of course I understood. I felt exactly the same way, but I was a lot better at protecting her than she was at protecting me. I didn’t see that changing any time soon. I knew better than to say that, though.
“I am your mother,” Mom went on.
“Lay off, Maggie.” Now Dad got his chance for a real hug, almost lifting me off the ground. “We haven’t even asked her if she’s been injured or not.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You have a giant bruise on your forehead, Rory,” Dad pointed out.
“She came home with that yesterday,” Amy explained. “After rescuing a fourth grader in Tennessee.”
“Dragon tail.” I didn’t mention the bigger bruise on my back, where the dragon’s tail had actually hit me. I’d flown half the length of the yard and knocked my head on a swing set.
Everyone except Amy winced. Dad and Brie exchanged a glance. They were obviously wondering if it was worth telling me to be careful. I sighed. It was a lot easier to have adventures when my parents just thought my injuries were from being accident-prone.
“Mom already told me off about it,” I told Dad and Brie, hoping this wouldn’t become a four-person lecture.
“You’ve been lucky so far,” Mom protested. “Right now, you just have cuts and bruises, but if you keep putting yourself in danger . . .”
This would be the perfect time for Amy to repeat the story she’d just heard, but she didn’t. Maybe she wanted to tell her in private.
When I didn’t say anything, Dad tried to defend me. “Maggie, technically, the witches came to you.”
“But that’s the exception, isn’t it?” Mom said. “Every time you go on one of these ‘missions,’ you push your luck a little more. If this keeps up, you’ll come home much worse off.”
A group of tenth graders glanced at us sidelong. Great, as if people weren’t talking about me enough already. Now my family had to go and have a huge public fight in one of the busiest parts of the Courtyard. “Mom, can we please talk about this somewhere else?”
“Finally,” said a clipped voice at my feet. Puss had taken to wearing some chainmail over her dress. It clinked faintly as she lashed her tail. “This courtyard is a nightmare to cross these days. The Director should have sent Ellie or Sarah Thumb instead of me.”
I couldn’t remember if I’d ever introduced Mom and Amy to this particular member of the Canon. Judging by the way their eyes bugged out, I guessed not. “Mom, Amy, this is Puss-in-Dress. Puss, this is—”
“Yes, I know.” The cat was in a bad mood. Someone must have stepped on her tail again. “Amy Stevens and Maggie Wright, the Director bids me to welcome you to Ever After School. I’m here to bring you to your new home. The young Characters are carrying in your boxes. This way.”
Sometimes the Director was helpful. “Mom, can we talk this afternoon?”
“What? You’re not coming with us?” Mom asked. The you plan to leave me alone with a talking cat on my first day here? part was implied.
“Rory has class in less than five minutes.” Puss’s tail flicked again.
“I’m sure they can do without her for one day,” Mom said. “I’ll write a note to her teachers.”
Puss, Dad, and Brie all paused and looked from Mom to me.
“Oh,” I said, kind of sheepishly. With everything I’d needed to tell them, I’d known that something had slipped through the cracks. At least, this explained why Mom never understood why I needed to be at the training courts so often.
“Rory is one of the teachers,” Puss said.
“An assistant,” I corrected quickly when disbelief crossed Mom’s face.
“Rory, I’m also supposed to tell you that a Canon meeting has been scheduled at noon,” Puss said. “All student representatives need to be there.”
“Got it,” I said, trying not to notice the why didn’t you tell me? frown coming from Mom and the why did I have to hear it from a talking cat? scowl coming from Amy. I started walking away, backward so that I could wave good-bye. “Mom, seriously, we can talk about it when I get home, okay?”
She was going to protest. Her mouth opened, probably to tell me that I better not go to some random meeting without seeing her first. I didn’t give her a chance. I turned and ran to the training courts.
Chase’s group usually met five minutes before the official classes. They liked to get their pick of metal dummies. But they wouldn’t be having a lesson if Chase was still away on a mission.
I hoped with all my heart he had been on a mission this morning. I wished I didn’t. It wasn’t right to prefer the option where his life might be in danger.
No. I refused to actually worry about him. Chase and George were the only warriors who could single-handedly slay squadrons of trolls or ice griffins as soon as they woke up. I knew, because Chase had been bragging about doing just that at breakfast twice in the past week.
But if he was just out doing something stupid . . .
I swung around a one-story house and saw the Tree of Hope ahead of me. Under it, at our usual table, was Chase. His sword lay next to his plate, but he didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. He was stuffing his face with pastries, right beside his girlfriend, Adelaide.
He hadn’t been out on a mission, not today.
hat hard, cold knot settled back into my chest. I stood over the table and crossed my arms.
Adelaide immediately started glaring at me. Nothing new there.
Chase didn’t even notice. He shoved a croissant into his mouth. Flaky crumbs fell on the M3 he was watching. I recognized the mirrorcording—he’d filmed it when we rescued a seventh grader and her family from ice griffins in Denver. He stopped the image and rewound it to replay the snippet of me slashing and bashing my way through four ice griffins. He’d isolated dozens of combinations like this one. Then he broke them down into steps and taught them to the group that would be meeting in a few minutes.
I knew all this. I knew how important learning my magic sword’s attacks had become to him. But every second I stood there, staring at the top of his head, the knot got colder and tighter.
He should have been there this morning.
He should have been fighting beside me, like Lena. Same as he should have been fighting on the rooftop with me a week ago, and fighting the dragons at that tenth grader’s house the week before that, and fighting those trolls at Daisy’s house last month.
Actually, he and his girlfriend hadn’t fought beside the rest of the grade since the skirmish recorded in Chase’s M3. In May.
Finally, Adelaide cleared her throat.
Chase didn’t look up. He reached for another pastry. “I told you, I’m working.”
“Then stop,” I said.
His face broke into a grin, one that took up half his face, framed by all his dimples. I didn’t understand how my stomach could flip even when I was so angry with him. I didn’t understand how he could look so happy to see me when he’d been ignoring our whole grade for months. “Hey! Look at this one. It’s a lot like the move we worked out three weeks ago, but different here.” He rewinded the mirrorcorder again, completely oblivious.
Sometimes, he and Adelaide acted like we weren’t in the middle of a war.
“Where were you?” I hated how my voice shook.
“I took him to this cute little bakery around the corner from my old house,” Adelaide said, with a touch of triumph. “They have the best croissants ever.”
I stared at Chase, who just looked confused. The knot in my chest was so tight that it hurt to breathe.
Rory, if you’re in trouble, I’ll always come for you, he’d said during Miriam’s quest. Just three months ago. I had expected Chase’s “always” to last longer than that.
“Was I right?” called a voice behind us. Daisy stalked down the row between the houses, carrying a cardboard box toward the door to the student apartments. Conner and Kyle flanked her, carrying boxes of their own. “Were they getting coffee again?”
Guilt flashed across Adelaide’s face. She had missed just as many fights as Chase had, but I was pretty sure she only felt bad about Daisy’s family. “Someone else is moving?” she asked, obviously hoping her friend would start talking to her again.
Daisy just glowered at Adelaide.
Chase slowly realized what happened. All the blood drained from his face, and he went bone white. “Who got attacked?”
“Me,” I said. “The Wolfsbane clan.”
“Oh,” Adelaide said with relief. “I thought it was Candice.”
“Candice moved two weeks ago,” said Conner, like he couldn’t believe Adelaide was so out of the loop.
“Yeah. We’re the only ones in our grade who haven’t moved here yet,” Kyle said.
That wasn’t completely true. Alvin Collins—the Character who had just joined our grade at Christmas—had moved to Hong Kong with his family and transferred to the Asian chapter of Ever After School.
We never mentioned him though, or any of the other families who fled as far as they could to avoid the Snow Queen.
“Maybe Dad will finally change his mind and let us move,” Conner said hopefully.