The School for Good and Evil 2 book collection: The School for Good and Evil. Soman Chainani
stopped laughing. “We need to get home. Now.”
Agatha told Sophie about all her frustrations solving the riddle, including her dead end with Professor Sader. Before she could even try to ask about his paintings, Sader had taken off to meet his Evil students, leaving three geriatric pigs to lecture about the importance of fortifying one’s houses.
“He’s the only one who can help us,” said Agatha.
“Better hurry. My days are numbered,” Sophie said glumly and recounted everything that had happened with her roommates, including their prediction of Sophie’s doom.
“You die? That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t be the villain in our story if we’re friends.”
“That’s why the School Master said we can’t be friends,” Sophie replied. “Something has to come between us. Something that answers the riddle.”
“What could possibly come between us?” Agatha said, still at a loss. “Maybe it’s all connected. This thing that Good has and Evil doesn’t. Do you think it’s why Good always wins?”
“Evil used to win, according to Lady Lesso. But now Good has something that beats them all.”
“But the School Master forbade us to return to his tower. So the answer to the riddle isn’t a word or a thing or an idea—”
“We have to do something!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. First, it’s something that can turn us against each other. Second, it’s something that beats Evil every time. And third, it’s something we can physically do—”
The girls spun to each other. “I got it,” said Agatha—“Me too,” said Sophie—
“It’s so obvious.”
“So obvious.”
“It’s—it’s—”
“Yes, it’s—”
“No idea,” Agatha said.
“Me either,” sighed Sophie.
Across the field Everboys slowly trespassed into Evergirl territory. Girls waited like flowers to be picked, only to see Beatrix attract the lion’s share. As Beatrix flirted with her suitors, Tedros fidgeted on a tree stump. Finally he stood up, shoved in front of the other boys, and asked Beatrix to take a walk.
“He was supposed to rescue me,” Sophie whimpered, watching them go.
“Sophie, we have the chance to save our village from a two-hundred-year-old curse, to rescue children from beatings and failings, to escape wolves, waves, gargoyles, and everything else in this awful school, and to end a story that will kill you. And you’re thinking about a boy?”
“I wanted my happy ending, Aggie,” Sophie said, tears sparkling.
“Getting home alive is our happy ending, Sophie.”
Sophie nodded, but her eyes never left Tedros.
“Welcome to Good Deeds,” said Professor Dovey to students gathered in the Purity Common Room. “Now we’re behind your other subjects, so we’ll dispense with the usual pleasantries. Let me begin by saying that over the years, I’ve seen a disturbing decrease in esteem for this class.”
“Because it’s after lunch,” Tedros whispered into Agatha’s ear.
“And you’re talking to me why?”
“Seriously, what witchy spell did you put on me to make me choose your goblin.”
Agatha didn’t turn.
“You did something,” Tedros fumed. “Tell me.”
“Can’t divulge a witch’s secrets,” Agatha said, gazing ahead.
“Knew it!” Tedros saw Professor Dovey glaring and flashed her a cocksure smile. She rolled her eyes and went on. He leaned over again to Agatha. “Tell me, and my boys will leave you alone.”
“Does that include you?”
“Just tell me what you did.”
Agatha exhaled. “I used the Hopsocotl Spell, a potent hex from the Gavaldonic Witches of Reapercat. They’re a small coven on the shores of the Callis River, not just expert spell casters but also great harvesters of—”
“What you did.”
“Well,” said Agatha, turning to him, “the Hopsocotl Spell worms its way into your brain like a swarm of leeches. It swims its way into every cranny, breeding, multiplying, festering for just the right moment. And just when it hooks into your every nook and crevice . . . ssssspppt! It sucks you of every intelligent thought and leaves you dumb as a donkey’s ass.”
Tedros went red.
“One more thing. It’s permanent,” Agatha said, and turned back around.
While Tedros mumbled about hangings, stonings, and the other ways his father punished wicked women, Agatha listened to Professor Dovey justify the importance of Good Deeds.
“Every time you do a Good Deed with true intention, your soul grows purer. Though lately, my Good students have been doing them as if they were chores, preferring to cultivate their egos, arrogance, and waist size! Let me assure you, our winning streak can end at any time!”
“Not if the School Master controls the Storian,” said Agatha.
“Agatha, the School Master has absolutely no role in how the stories play out,” Professor Dovey said impatiently. “He cannot control the Storian.”
“He seemed pretty good at magic to me,” Agatha replied.
“Excuse me?”
“He can split into shadows. He can make a room disappear. He can make it all seem like a dream, so surely he can control a pen—”
“And how might you know all this?” Professor Dovey sighed.
Agatha saw Tedros smirking.
“Because he showed me,” she said.
Tedros’ smirk vanished. Professor Dovey looked like a kettle about to steam. Students glanced nervously between her and Agatha.
Their teacher smiled tightly. “Oh, Agatha, what an imagination you have. It will serve you well when you’re waiting for someone to rescue you from a ravenous dragon. Let’s hope he arrives in time. Now, the three keys to Good Deeds are creativity, feasibility, and spontaneity—”
Agatha opened her mouth, but Professor Dovey silenced her with a glare. Knowing she was on shaky ground, Agatha pulled out parchment and took notes with the rest.
Before Surviving Fairy Tales, the students of both schools found themselves summoned to an assembly in the Clearing.
As soon as Agatha popped through the tree tunnel, Kiko grabbed her—“Tristan changed his hair!”
Agatha glanced over at Tristan, leaning against a tree. His hair was blond now, drooping over one eye. He reminded her of someone.
“He said he did it for Beatrix!” Kiko wailed, hair still hideously red.
Agatha followed Tristan’s eyes to Beatrix, who was jabbering to Tedros. Tedros couldn’t have been less enthused and puffed at the blond bangs drooping over his—
Agatha coughed. She looked back at Tristan, puffing at his droopy blond bangs. Then at Tedros, who had two shirt buttons undone and his tie loosened with its golden T. Then at Tristan, who had undone two buttons and loosened his tie with its golden T.
“What if I’m blond like Beatrix?” Kiko hounded. “Then will Tristan like me?”
Agatha turned. “You need to find a new crush immediately.”
“ATTENTION.”
She