by Shannon Hale
So she wasn’t getting expelled? Raven looked over at Maddie and smiled. Maddie took off her teacup hat and toasted her with it.
“Morning classes are suspended to give you time to download the Yester Day app on your MirrorPhone, browse its list of approved fairytale characters, select a few, and schedule visits.”
The students busied themselves with their phones.
“Hey, Apple,” said Humphrey Dumpty, leaning in from the row behind. He was so pale he made Apple White look tan. “I, um, I just took care of the install for you.”
Apple’s MirrorPhone beeped. She smiled. “So you did! How ever did you manage to do that?”
The smooth white cheeks of Humpty Dumpty’s son began to color. “Well, um… you can push stuff, like apps and things, to another phone. If you, uh, have the person’s password.”
Raven perked up. “Humphrey has your password?”
Apple shrugged. “I gave it to him when we were working on something together. He only has my best interests at heart, isn’t that right, MC Dump-T?”
Humphrey blushed so hard he appeared to be dyed pink. He cleared his throat. “True dat,” he said, and he swaggered away, his squat body swaying with each step of his long, thin legs. Everyone nearby watched him go, tensing for Humpty Dumpty’s son to trip and fall and for the inevitable sound of breaking. There was an audible sigh of relief when he made it out the door in one piece.
Raven tapped at her own phone. “Your password is fairest, isn’t it?” she said, not looking up.
Apple gasped. “How did you know? Did you hack me?”
“Just a guess,” said Raven. “You should probably change it to something a little less guessable. I know you’re not worried about people breaking rules, but sometimes they do. You know. Speaking from experience.”
“Okay,” Apple said, tapping on her phone. “This should be more secure.”
She showed Raven her screen.
NEW PASSWORD: -ZZ--ZZ--ZZ--Z-ZZ-Z--Z-ZZZ--Z--ZZ--Z-Z-ZZZ--ZZ-ZZZ-Z--
“Overkill?” said Raven. “There’s no way you’ll be able to remember that.”
“Sure I can. It’s still fairest, but I converted it to Lulla-binary notation.”
“Lulla-what?”
Apple shrugged. “My elective this year is Experimental Fairy Math.”
Raven nodded slowly. It was easy to discount the Fairest One of All as nothing more than a lot of golden curls and cheery fashion choices. Raven reminded herself that Apple was fairy, fairy smart.
So how could a girl be so epically intelligent and yet not be able to see what Raven knew to be true? That destiny was just a lot of puppet strings, and happiness could only come with freedom?
Raven wasn’t keen to stay under Grimm’s scorching gaze, so she and Maddie ran down to the invisible grove on the croquet lawn to work on the app. Croquet games at Ever After High were rare, mostly because of that grove of invisible trees in the middle of the field. But they sprouted up one day and couldn’t be chopped down until someone found an invisible ax. Croquet was a beloved sport in Wonderland, and some believed that was why a Wonderlandish invisible grove had appeared there—or rather, not appeared, as it were.
Raven walked with her hands out, feeling for a tree, then sat down against it and scrolled through the characters available for visits. She checked under the Q’s for Queen and the E’s for Evil, but, of course, her mother had not made the headmaster’s approved list. There was an “Evil Wizard Tim” and an “Evil Fairy Megan,” but mentor options for those destined for evilness were sparse. Just as Headmaster Grimm had said in the assembly, everything was designed “to keep those Happily Ever Afters coming.” And Happily Ever After meant the bad guy loses. Or dies. Or is locked up in a mirror prison forever after where her daughter can never visit.
There were lots of queens, though. Apple’s mom, Ashlynn’s mom, Briar’s mom, Daring’s mom. Everybody-who-wanted-Raven-to-be-evil’s mom.
“Curses!” Raven shut the phone down. She wanted to talk to someone who had been a rebel and yet made it work. Or just someone who did something different, for fairy’s sake! Raven needed a cauldron-load of advice. She’d only meant to make her own choice, not cause all this chaos and uncertainty. But in the few hours since Legacy Day, she’d been accosted constantly for guidance. First Ashlynn Ella, with teary eyes, pulled Raven into a broom closet and confessed her impossible love for Hunter Huntsman.
“I want to be with him forever after, but he isn’t a prince, and I already signed the Storybook of Legends swearing to become the next Cinderella. What do I do?”
Later, Hunter had whispered to Raven the same secret question.
Cerise Hood had lurked nearby, her face full of questions she seemed afraid to ask. Cedar Wood had been distraught with the groupings of either Royals or Rebels, unsure where she fit. Even Sparrow Hood had asked if she had tips on getting all his Merry Men “on the same page.”
“I don’t know what you should do,” Raven had told each of them individually. “Whatever feels right to you. It’ll all work out.”
And then the food fight. Raven squirmed with guilt. If she’d been an actual leader to the Rebels instead of a bewildered girl adrift in the aftermath of her own scary choice, maybe she could have done something. Calmed everyone down. Helped make a plan for what the next chapter might bring now that anyone could write a new destiny without fear of going poof.
“Maddie, where are you going for Yester Day?” Raven asked.
“I wanted to go to Wonderland, of course,” Maddie said, hanging upside down from what appeared to be thin air. She reached out and plucked an invisible apple. “I’m keen to see the scenes that I haven’t seen in umpteen weeks. Except in my dreams, of course. But I can’t. Not for real and true.”
Raven nodded. During her mother’s attempt to take over Wonderland, the entire realm had been poisoned with a toxic madness that threatened to infect all of Ever After. The headmaster, Baba Yaga, and other magic folk had had no choice but to seal the portals to Wonderland to stop the infection from spreading. Maddie and her father, Lizzie Hearts, Kitty Cheshire, the White Queen, and a scant few others had managed to escape before the gates were sealed. Maddie didn’t blame Raven for her mother’s corruption of Wonderland’s magical madness and ruining her homeland, but, still, every time Raven thought of the lost Wonderland, she felt awful, as if she’d been baked in a pie with four and twenty blackbirds.
“You’re a gloomy Gus today.” Maddie, still upside down, grabbed Raven by the shoulders and shook her. “Retreat, Gus! Back! Back! We wish to speak to Raven now!”
A small voice called from across the field. “I am no-vhere near you!” shouted Gus Crumb, who was scampering behind Cerise, along with his cousin Helga.
Raven laughed. “It’s okay, Maddie. I’m just not sure who to visit for Yester Day.”
“Oh. Right! The voice said you needed to find someone who was bad and made it good. Or was it the other way? No, that was it. ‘Someone who had been a rebel and yet made it work,’ right?”
“The voice?”
“You know, the Narrator. The one who describes what we’re thinking or doing or whatever.”
“Oh. You’re still hearing that?”
“Sometimes. More often when I’m near you or Apple, for some reason.” Maddie dropped down from the tree, landing on her hands, and did a somersault.
“Stop following me!” Cerise yelled at Gus and Helga, a covered basket hanging from her arm.
Gus rubbed his hands together. “But vhat does she haff in ze basket, my cousin Helga?”
“I do not know, my cousin Gus,” Helga said. “But it ees smellink soooo delicious!”
“It’s just food!” Cerise said. “My food! Go get your own!”
“She could share, maybe?” said Gus.
“Ja, she could share, no?” said Helga.
“No,” said Cerise.
“Fine. She will enjoy ze delicious basket-food, und vee vill starve!”
Gus and Helga
huffed back toward the school, and Cerise darted in the opposite direction, toward a cluster of trees.
“Poor thing,” Maddie said.
Raven grunted. “I don’t think they’re going to starve.”
“No, you silly! I mean Cerise. She usually eats alone.” Maddie tapped a finger on her chin. “Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have any tea. Dad always says it’s the tea that makes the party. Maybe if we give her tea, the party will follow!”
“Maybe,” said Raven. “But maybe she wants to be alone. We had a talk recently. She, uh, confided in me some things about her family. I kind of thought that meant we were friends, but now she’s avoiding me.”
Cerise looked up, as if aware she was being watched. Maddie waved. Cerise waved back, and then checked to make sure her hood hadn’t fallen down. Red Riding Hood’s daughter was never without her own short cloak and hood, always up over her head.
An idea sparked in Raven.
“Ooh, I love it when ideas spark in you!” Maddie yelled—completely inappropriately, in the Narrator’s humble opinion, since she only knew about the sparking idea by eavesdropping on the Narrator.
“Oh, Narrator, you are so silly,” said Maddie. “Anywhatzit, what’s your idea, Raven?”
On her MirrorPhone, Raven scrolled through the Yester Day app to “Red Riding Hood” and checked the box, showing Maddie triumphantly. But just a moment later she was rewarded with a message.
SEE THE HEADMASTER FOR APPROVAL.
“Oh, no.” Raven meant to slump back against an invisible tree but missed it and fell on her back. “Maddie, did you get a message like this when you signed up for a visit?”
“I did not, my purplish friend. Hey, can I call you Crow?” asked Maddie. She tossed an invisible apple core and reached out to pluck a new fruit. “That’s the same bird as a raven, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” said Raven, staring at her phone.
“Thanks, Crow,” Maddie said. She took a thoughtful bite of her invisible apple. “But that sounds like a different person than you. Crow, I’m going to call you Raven again.”
“Maddie,” Raven whispered, “I think I’m about to get expelled.”
Maddie choked on a transparent bite of fruit. “No! Raven, I would turn into a muffin without you—a sad, dry, bran-and-wheat-chaff muffin that no one wants to eat and just crumbles away on a plate!”
“Don’t turn into a muffin,” said Raven, laughing despite herself.
“Don’t worry. I’ll come with you,” Maddie said, holding out her hand.
Raven felt as if she could face almost anything with Maddie by her side—hungry monsters, dark curses, even Headmaster Grimm. But Mrs. Trollworth, the headmaster’s secretary, made Maddie wait in the hall, and Raven had to enter alone.
Alone except for the many autographed photos of fairytale characters staring at her from the wall. FOR MILTON GRIMM, THANKS FOR HELPING ME FOLLOW MY DESTINY!, Cinderella had signed. THANKS, GRIMMY! I NEVER COULD HAVE DEFEATED THE GIANT WITHOUT YOUR GUIDANCE, Jack had written.
Raven sat in the student throne across from Grimm at his desk. He sat back in his plush throne.
“Um…” Raven said.
Headmaster Grimm glared, flicking open the lid of an inkwell with the tip of a quill, and then flicking it shut again, open and shut. Click click click.
“If you were anyone else,” he said slowly, “you would already be gone—expelled, bags packed, dropped down a wishing well on your way back home, to never set foot in my school again.”
Raven’s heart sank to somewhere below her ribs.
“Do you know why I am making a special exception for you, Miss Queen?”
“Um, because I’m special?” Raven asked.
She meant it as a joke, but the headmaster’s frown deepened.
“It’s the Snow White fairytale that is special,” he said. “And you must play your part. Stories do have a way of working themselves out, but you need to let them and not thwart them at every opportunity.”
“Um,” she said, afraid to say anything else and change his mind about the not-expelling-her thing.
“You are staying because I’m giving you another chance. You will change your mind—eventually. And when you do, this little rebellion you stirred up will be squashed before it blooms.”
Raven gulped. A response was bubbling up in her, but she wisely swallowed it down.
“Nevertheless,” he continued, “there must be some consequences. During Study Ball, you will scrub the garbage chutes and think about destiny.”
“If I’m cleaning during Study Ball, when will I have time to do my thronework?”
“Perhaps, if I keep you suitably busy, you won’t have time to rebel out of boredom! You are here to learn how to become a dark sorceress and follow in your mother’s”—Grimm shuddered—“evil footsteps. Though, perhaps, not her exact epically evil footsteps. Ahem. So tell me, why, exactly, do you want to see Red Riding Hood?”
Raven examined his face. Did he know what Cerise had recently confided in her? That Mr. Badwolf—the same Mr. Badwolf who was Ever After High’s professor of General Villainy—was actually Cerise’s dad? Red Riding Hood and Big Badwolf’s falling in love and marrying secretly were not part of the story. They did something that was crazy off-script. Now Raven had to know—did it work out for them? What happened to those who rebelled against destiny? Did their choice to rebel hurt others, as her choice seemed to be hurting her friends? How could she protect them?
“Well, it’s a great cautionary tale about, you know, veering off the path,” Raven offered.
Grimm nodded slightly. She was on the right track to convincing him.
“If Red had done what her mother had wanted and followed the path, she would have never met the wolf,” Raven said. And never fallen in love, she thought.
Headmaster Grimm smiled. “That isn’t the way the story is supposed to go, but I do get your point. It might be nice to discuss the regrets one feels for poor choices. Very well. One condition, though,” the headmaster continued, holding up a finger. “I want you to visit someone evil as well.”
“Well, good role models for evil are rare, so maybe… I could maybe talk to my mom,” said Raven quietly. Part of her longed to see her mother again just to ask her if she’d done right. Another part was afraid but thought the talk would provide a timely reminder of why she would do anything to keep from becoming like her.
“Your mother?” the headmaster whispered. Only a handful of people in all of Ever After even knew that Raven’s mother wasn’t dead but imprisoned far away in a magic mirror. Headmaster Grimm had sworn Raven to secrecy.
“Yeah, well, I thought—”
“Miss Queen, I hope that you are kidding,” he said. “Though I find it in very poor taste to kid about the Greatest Evil Ever After Has Ever Known.”
“Of… of course,” Raven said. “Sorry. That was silly to suggest.” She’d hoped he’d allow an extra MirrorChat this year, since he wanted her so badly to grow into her mother’s role, but she shouldn’t have risked asking. She winced, afraid he’d bring up expulsion again.
“You will visit the Candy Witch,” Milton Grimm said. “She is a villain who wholeheartedly embraces her role. Er, just try not to get near her oven.”
“Right… okay,” Raven said. Raven knew the Candy Witch’s daughter, Ginger, from school but had heard alarming stories about Ginger’s mother.
“Off with you!” Mr. Grimm puffed, making shooing motions with his hands.
Raven was eager to oblige.
When she emerged into the hall, Maddie was sitting on the floor.
“You’re still waiting for me!” said Raven.
Maddie popped up and gave her a hug. “Sometimes after talking to the headmaster, you get trembly and chin-quivery and even gloomier-Gussy. So I thought, maybe my friend Raven will need a hug.”
Raven hugged her back. “I think I did. Thanks.”
Maddie pulled a pink top hat off her head, stuck her arm in up to the elbo
w, and pulled out a hot cup of tea. “Also this. Hugs and tea. Cures everything.”
Raven sipped. The warm charm blossom tea felt like drinking down a hug. Though it couldn’t entirely fill that hole inside her, aching with fear and confusion. Her mother would understand how it felt to be booed when she walked into a room. Though instead of working to better understand and lead her peers, her mother’s solution would likely involve magic potions and zapping.
Maddie stood back and squinted. “You don’t look expelled.”
“I’m not!” said Raven.
“Aha! The tea worked!”
The tower bell rang. Maddie ran off to Chemythstry class. Raven finished her tea on the way to her Tall Tales lecture, taking a seat beside Cerise Hood.
“Hey,” Raven said. “You know what the lecture is about?”
Cerise said, “Sneaking, I think, or—”
“Skulking!” shouted Professor Jack B. Nimble, appearing at the lectern seemingly out of nowhere. Several of the teachers applauded.
There were lots of Jacks. Raven had a hard time keeping them all straight. The Sprat one was the easiest, because he was extraordinarily skinny.
“You probably didn’t know,” Jack shouted, “that I was here for a full! Five! Minutes! Before I spoke!”
Raven winced. The megaphone mounted to the podium magnified his yelling till her ears squeaked, killing any hopes of a whispered conversation with Cerise. Raven slumped in her chair and pulled out her MirrorPhone.
“Misdirection!” he said, shouting now. “Magic for the nonmagical!”
Raven found Cerise’s number and sent her a hext.
RAVEN: Hey C! loud, right?
There was a subtle buzz. Cerise checked her phone and then looked at Raven, eyebrow raised.
RAVEN:I know. using MirrorPhone in class = bad, but I have spella good news!
“Behold!” Jack shouted from the stage. He was holding an egg.
“That’s my egg!” someone shouted from the audience. Several people gasped.