فصل 27

27

Rebel Hearts

“What if Merlin marshals the Ever kingdoms against us?” Sophie heard Professor Manley ask.

“For the last time, Bilious, Good defends, not attacks; the Ever kingdoms will not fight us if we do not fight them,” Rafal’s voice growled. “Besides, they know better than to risk their people for a few decrepit heroes. Not that this will save them, of course. Once Sophie and I prove that Evil can win, we’ll destroy the Ever kingdoms one by one.” “And what if more of our students turn out to be spies for Good?” asked Professor Sheeks.

“What if Princess Uma brings an animal army?” pushed Pollux.

“If you’re worried about our students’ ability to fight animals, then I wonder what business you have being a teacher at all,” the young School Master fired. “As for spies, Sheeba, I believe the threat of imprisonment in the Brig will deter any further rebellion.” “’Cause that worked real well tonight,” Castor murmured.

Sophie wasn’t paying attention to them as she inspected the food laid out at the back of Lady Lesso’s old frozen classroom. Rafal had promised they’d serve lunch at the faculty meeting, but all she’d found was a stinking heap of cold mackerel, burnt potatoes, and crusty cheese.

She glimpsed her reflection in an iced wall and almost didn’t recognize herself. Gone was the panicked, needy girl who’d chased a prince to Avalon and in her place, an imperious queen in a spiked crown and maleficent gown. Ever since yesterday’s coronation before famous villains and former classmates, standing in homage to their new leader, Sophie had begun to feel like her old self. She glanced down at Merlin’s white star, which she’d buried in her pocket. No doubt he’d left it to make her rethink her allegiance to Evil. Instead it had only recommitted her. Because like Agatha, that hoary, two-faced wizard had used her all along. He’d pretended to rescue her because he wanted to see her happy—when he’d just needed her to destroy her ring. Like Agatha, he didn’t care if she ended up alone. She was nothing but a means to an end. A gullible stooge. A cog in Good’s wheel.

And that didn’t seem Good to her at all.

Oh, what she would have given to see that scheming meddler thrown into the iced dungeons, with his stupid cape and infernal hat and doddering quips. Next time, she’d handle sealing prisoners in the Brig herself.

Her eyes refocused on the pitiful buffet and she glanced back at the seated teachers—Professor Manley, Professor Sheeks, Castor, Pollux, and Lady Lesso—who each had full plates of putrid food. Dean Aric was the only one missing from the gathering.

“I say the biggest problem we have is that we crammed all the Evil students into the old Good school and those numpty Nevers don’t know that castle from their own arse,” Castor grouched. “Keep locking themselves in closets and falling down secret passageways. How can they protect a school if they don’t know where anything is—” “The biggest problem we have is the food,” Sophie’s voice boomed.

Everyone in the room turned.

“If this is what’s served at a faculty meeting—to the queen herself—what are the students enduring?” Sophie said, sitting beside Rafal on Lady Lesso’s old ice desk. She slipped her arm under his. “Now that I’ve been crowned, I have the right to make a few changes around here. And you can’t very well lead an Evil army that’s bloated and malnourished, can you, darling?” For a moment, the young School Master looked just as dumbstruck as the teachers. Then he touched Sophie’s cheek. “Of course, my queen.” “Lovely,” said Sophie. She glared at Pollux. “Do something about the food.” Pollux looked as if he’d been pelted with manure.

Lady Lesso cleared her throat. “Rafal—”

“You mean Master,” said Sophie.

Lady Lesso’s eyes flicked to her. The Dean gave her an amused look, as one might give a puppet claiming to have a mind of its own.

“Master,” she simpered, back to Rafal, “I think what the rest of my colleagues are trying to say is that one cannot approach the coming war like an impetuous child. If Hester and Anadil, two of our best Nevers, turned out to be spies for Good, how can we trust the rest to be faithful to our cause? Tracking them into their future groups might sedate their instincts to rebel, but it cannot address their deeper loyalties. When faced with the choice of fighting with us or against us, we cannot predict what many of them will do, particularly those Evers whose families have fought for Good their whole lives. And speaking frankly, Master, to believe otherwise is to let your new youth impair your judgment.” Sophie flared. “Quite sure Rafal and I know more about what young people think than you do, Lady Lesso.” “Really?” The Dean fixed on her, the amusement gone. “Because all I see is a school full of students who will turn on you the second they get a chance.” Sophie felt Rafal’s arm tighten. He suddenly looked like an unsure teenager instead of an all-powerful sorcerer. How could he let the teachers question him like this?

Sophie puffed her chest. “Lady Lesso, I find it offensive that you would impugn our Master’s leadershi—” “What is it you’re proposing, Lady Lesso?” Rafal asked, ignoring his queen.

Sophie went quiet.

“I propose that you avoid the students fighting for you at all,” said Lady Lesso. “Take the old villains into the Woods and ambush Merlin’s forces before they reach our gates. Let the Dark Army finish them off before they ever get to school. The students will remain barricaded at school under our control.” “It is the most sensible plan,” said Professor Manley, as if he and Lady Lesso had already discussed it. “Our students would only hamper your army.” “It will prevent spies or sabotage,” said Professor Sheeks, clearly privy to the plan.

“And it will save students’ lives,” added Castor, apparently part of the team too.

(Pollux frowned, as if it was the first he was hearing of it.)

“So the old villains will fight the battle while the young students lounge here?” Sophie glowered, incredulous. “And I assume you, our virtuous and valiant faculty, will avoid the front line too?” “Can’t very well leave the students unsupervised, can we? Given their dubious loyalties,” Lady Lesso glowered back, as if she wanted to gag Sophie with her crown.

Rafal smiled dryly at the teachers. “This isn’t about loyalties at all, is it? You don’t think we’ll win. Now that I have youth on my side, you think I might lose this war.” “Youth also brings with it reckless optimism and a willingness to risk the lives of fellow youth. Neither of which are useful in war,” said Lady Lesso. “A war where half your own forces may not be on your side.” Rafal held her eyes, but Sophie could see he was questioning himself even more now. She wanted him to punish Lady Lesso, to show his full strength as Evil’s leader . . .

The young Master picked at his collar and looked away dismissively. “I’m afraid you’ve wasted your breath, Lady Lesso. Truth is, I’d already decided upon leaving the students at school before you ever mentioned it.” “I bet,” Castor mumbled.

Sophie touched Rafal’s waist. “Leaving the students behind, darling? Are you sure—” The door crashed open and Aric stormed in.

“Can’t believe you let them get away after what that demon-skinned wench did to me,” Aric fumed, the “CREEP” slashed into his forehead glowing bloodred. “Told you we should have gutted them and served them in meat pies at supper.” “Because that would surely inspire loyalty from their fellow students,” Lady Lesso scorned. “You and the young School Master should replace our entire faculty with hot-headed, teenage boys. You could rename the towers Brashness, Arrogance, and Thuggery.” Aric shoved his face in hers and grabbed her by the throat. “You think because you scared that demon off me, you can talk to me like that? You think because you called a few teachers to help your wounded ‘little boy,’ all is forgiven?” he snarled, spit flying. “Well, I blame you for that witch-spy attacking me in the first place. You taught her these past two years, so clearly something went wrong in her education if she attacks her own Dean.” Aric squeezed her neck harder. “But you’re the Old Dean and I’m the New, mother. Which means when you’re out, I’m in and this school goes my way. And trust me when I say you’ll be out sooner than you think.” Lady Lesso gurgled for breath—

“Aric, I’d prefer you kill your mother after the war is over,” said Rafal.

Sophie noticed his tone was dead serious.

Aric sensed this too, for he smirked at his mother and whispered in her ear. “And before I kill you, I’ll kill your old fairy godmother friend too. Dovey, is it? I’ll tear out her heart with my bare hands and make you watch.” He released her quickly and pulled back. “Of course, School Master. Please go on.” Lady Lesso showed no emotion, but when her son turned to his seat, Sophie saw her eyes flicker with terror and her hand brush the marks he’d left on her throat.

“Then our plan for war is set,” Rafal resumed. “Once Merlin and his heroes approach, the old villains will ambush them in the Woods, while the young students defend the castles, under the teachers’ supervision. You will not tell the young students they’re staying behind in the coming war, of course. For the next week, they will train rigorously for combat alongside the old villains. This will ensure they’re prepared in case any of Merlin’s heroes make it past the Dark Army onto school grounds. As to who will be Training Leader of both schools—” “Me,” Aric and Lady Lesso both spouted.

Rafal ignored Lady Lesso and began to nod at Aric—

“I have a better idea,” said Sophie.

Rafal, Aric, and the rest of the faculty all turned to her.

“Hope it’s as good an idea as the food one,” Castor muttered, drawing snickers.

“HOW DARE YOU,” Sophie hissed.

The room went still.

“I am your queen,” said Sophie, slinking towards the teachers. “Not a student, not a teacher, but a Master of both. Just like the young Master who sits in front of you and yet you continue to disrespect. No wonder our students doubt their loyalties to Evil when they have old, bitter teachers who see no value in youth or a young Dean who can’t even protect himself.” She leered at Aric as she circled the teachers like a shark. “But that will change starting today. Because now they have me.

“When I was first appointed as a teacher, I resisted it. In my heart I still felt I was supposed to be Good. That’s what Readers like me are taught, after all: Never lose your faith in Good, no matter how lost you are. And yet, the Good towers may have once been named Valor, Honor, Purity, and Charity . . . but when I was lost, it was Evil that extended me those things. The rules say Good defends, forgives, helps, gives, loves . . . but in my story, it’s Evil that’s proven these rules true. And suddenly I understood what Rafal has been trying to tell me all along. That some hearts are rebel hearts, pumping with anger and darkness and pain the way others pump with light. And yet, even if my heart beats for Evil, that doesn’t mean I can’t find love. That doesn’t mean I can’t find happiness. It just means I have to find love with someone who embraces my darkness instead of fighting it. Because that’s the love that will change the world. That’s the love that will win this war. And that’s the love we must teach.” Sophie paused, letting these words echo in the quiet room. “I was with Merlin, Tedros, and Agatha the past two weeks. I was face-to-face with all those wretched heroes in their cave. I know their weaknesses and how to beat them. And if you still doubt me, then perhaps you should remember that the last rite of any coronation is a queen’s wish for her kingdom. I didn’t have a chance to make my wish then, but I’ll make it now. My wish is to do what I couldn’t do the first time I was at this school: to lead this war against Good and know that righteousness is on our side. All of you may not trust Evil can win this war. You may choose to stay behind with the students and cower from the future. But not me. I’ll prepare our Dark Army for war. I’ll stand with Rafal at the front line. I’ll do whatever it takes to show the world that Evil can win. Because this isn’t just my fairy tale now. It’s all of ours. And in the end, my life is worth risking if it means more rebel hearts will finally have a happy ending.” Her cheeks were red, her chest thumping.

The teachers gazed back at her. They weren’t snickering anymore. Instead their eyes shined with a new hope, as if Evil finally had a chance indeed.

Rafal clasped Sophie’s hand. “Well, then,” he said proudly. “I believe we’ve found our Training Leader.” Sophie gave him a regal smile and turned to Lady Lesso, expecting her to be just as proud of how far her former student had come . . .

Only Lady Lesso didn’t look proud of her at all.

Once lunch was served, Merlin cleared his throat and prepared to speak, but no one paid the slightest attention. They were far too busy with the food.

With more than twenty people to serve—thirteen old heroes, three young witches, a former queen and her knight, a future queen and king, and a loveless weasel—Merlin’s hat had hidden away in the kitchen, letting out shrieks of stress, until one by one, silver platters began magically floating through the swinging door. Soon the dining table was a smorgasbord of colorful, cosmopolitan delights: truffled crab salad, curried venison with beetroot jelly, shredded duck in a citrus marinade, peppered-ham pizza on roasted pitas, a yogurt-and-mint olive tapenade, fennel and wildflower salad, and a chocolate bouchon cake with crispy honeycomb.

With the old League heroes starving from their travails in the Woods and the youngsters deprived of breakfast by the morning’s events, the dining room quickly turned into a battle scene, so crowded and muggy with jostling bodies and hands stabbing for pizza and cake that Agatha didn’t even bother looking for Tedros. Nor did she search for her prince after lunch, for she’d eaten too much and too fast and had to hide behind a sofa in the den where she could clutch her belly and burp in private. Glancing up, she saw everyone else had the same idea; each nook and cranny of the farmhouse was filled with a young or old body, nursing indigestion or passed out in a food coma.

Agatha yawned and closed her eyes, about to join the comatose, when she heard three backsides plunk to the floor.

“After everything we did to get you in and out of that school, after risking our lives for you, you couldn’t even get Sophie to destroy the ring?” Hester’s voice attacked.

Agatha opened her eyes. “I tried, Hester—”

“First of all, you can’t talk to your friends in a diamond crown. It’s pretentious,” said Anadil.

Agatha had forgotten she even had it on. She quickly pulled off the diadem and shoved it behind her back.

“Can I wear it for a bit?” Dot asked, mouth full of pizza turned to chocolate. “I bet it’ll look nice on me.” “If it can fit around that head,” Hester mumbled.

Dot hurled her pizza at her, smacking Hester in the cheek. “Do you know how unfair that is, you contemptuous git! You made me gain weight in order to stay in the coven and now you’re making fun of me for it? Are you that insecure that you needed me to be fat to feel okay about yourself? Well, you picked the wrong piggy tail to pull, honey. I love myself no matter what I look like, so nothing you say to me will ever make me feel ugly again. Because unlike you, Hester, I’ll never be ugly inside.” Hester gaped at Dot like she was a rabid bear. “Agatha. Give the girl the damned crown before she stays this way forever.” Dot snatched the diadem out of Agatha’s hands and admired herself in a brass urn as she jammed it on (upside down and backwards, but no one said a thing).

“Now where were we,” said Anadil. “Oh right. The part where Agatha fails us all.” Any pleasure Agatha took from Dot’s tirade evaporated. “Listen, I thought I could convince Sophie to destroy the ring. We’d even gotten close again in the last few days. It was like she was the old Sophie and I was the old me and I thought she’d listen . . .” She remembered their last moments together and guilt rushed through her. “I had my chance. I should have taken it—” “You don’t have to defend yourself, Agatha. The truth is it doesn’t matter what you would have done,” Hester said with awkward sympathy, clearly smarting from Dot’s words. “We’ve warned you since the day you got here. All three of us did. Sophie was sorted into the School for Evil for a reason. And no matter how much you love her or try to change her, that’s where she was always going to end up.” “We just didn’t think it’d be as the School Master’s queen,” said Anadil. “How we’re going to make Sophie destroy his ring now . . .” A quiet doom fell over the witches’ faces and Agatha realized why everyone had ignored Merlin when he’d tried to speak before lunch. They wanted a few precious moments before they had to face the truth.

The truth that Sophie destroying her own ring was the only way to kill the School Master and stop him from killing them. And now that Sophie had returned to Evil, there was no hope of her destroying that ring at all.

“Did you see her when she came back?” Agatha asked softly.

“Saw her the way we saw you when we first came through the portal: wearing her new crown,” said Hester.

“Only with four hundred more people in the audience,” said Dot, still making kissy-faces in the urn.

“She did look beautiful, I have to say,” Anadil added thoughtfully. “Paraded into the Theater of Tales on a handsome boy’s arm, just like the old Sophie, who believed her destiny was so much bigger than everyone else’s. The strange thing was how calm and composed she was. Not like that warty, deranged witch who savaged anything in sight. It was as if Evil had finally opened her path to a happy ending.” “As if Evil had the right to win,” nodded Dot.

“As if Evil was Good,” Hester finished.

Agatha thought of Sophie, who just a few days ago had nuzzled her head against her as they rode across the moors. Sophie, her prissy, pink-dressed best friend who fantasized about being a princess for Good. Sophie, who would draw glass castles, ponder her future prince’s name, and mull what her Evil archenemy would look like—while Agatha had been branded as Evil from the day she was born. She’d retaliated by ironically playing along, wearing black and lurking in her graveyard and nursing her hateful little cat . . . until the irony wore off and even she believed she’d end up a witch.

Now here they were. She, the queen for Good. Sophie, the queen for Evil.

“How’d we get so lost?” she breathed. “How can two best friends end up at war against each other, even though they still love each other?” “Because each of you is fighting for something bigger than yourself now,” said Hester.

Agatha hung her head. “I miss the days where my biggest worry was surviving makeovers in Beautification.” “Speaking of makeovers, anyone notice Hort’s looking even juicier than he did at school?” chirped Dot, biting into the cocoa-pizza she’d swiped off the floor. “Saw him when we came in and he has this swarthy tan from working the moors and mud stains on his cheeks, like he’s Captain Lumberjack or something. But you know how I like woodsy types, with my crush on Robin Hood and all. Anyway, I sneak behind and give him a good sniff and notice he smells like a man now, nothing like that boy who used to wear frog pajamas and reek of baby powder, and all I could think was since there aren’t too many rooms in this place, I wonder if I can get Merlin to put me and him in the same—” “Over my dead body,” bellowed Hort, who stuck his head out from around the corner.

Hester glared back, demon twitching. “That can be arranged.”

Hort muttered something obscene and vanished behind the wall.

Hester saw Dot goggling at her. “What now?”

“Did you just defend me?”

“Only because you look so stupid in that crown,” Hester grumped.

All the girls laughed, even Dot.

“What’d I miss?”

They looked up at Tedros, licking yogurt off his fingers.

“Ugh. The old ball and chain,” Hester moaned.

“Nice to see you’re as awful as always, even when you’re working for our side,” said the prince.

“Let’s go,” said Hester to her coven-mates as she stood up. “The smell of spoiled prince makes me sick.” Anadil and Dot followed her, but not before Tedros swiped at Dot’s head and snatched back the crown.

He waited until the witches were out of earshot and peered down at Agatha. “I don’t, uh, you know . . . smell, do I?” “Hester thinks Reaper is cute,” said Agatha.

“Point made.” Tedros sat down next to her, still in his grass-stained shirt and ragged breeches, but he’d taken a bath, because his hair was wet and he smelled of the tea-scented soap Guinevere kept by the tub. He leaned over and fixed the crown back on her head.

“I knew you’d do that,” Agatha sighed. “I’m not even a real queen, Tedros. For one thing, you have to be crowned king first—” “I will be in a week.”

“If we’re alive, which is looking more and more doubtful,” said Agatha. “And even if you are crowned king, I’m too young to be a queen . . . officially, I mean . . . you know . . .” “No one’s asking you to be official. Yet,” said Tedros, straightening her crown. “But you are my queen. No one but you. And I like seeing you wear it. Because as long as you do, I know you still love me. And given our history of miscommunication, physical cues are helpful.” Agatha snorted.

“This is where you tell me how I can show my love,” Tedros prodded.

“Uh, romance isn’t really my thing,” said Agatha, resting her head on his shoulder. “Every year, there’s a Valentine’s Day dance in Gavaldon. One year, I got so annoyed by all the couples I set off a flaming skunk bomb and cleared the place.” “I hope they punished you for it.”

“They were too scared I’d boil their children in a witch stew.”

Tedros put his arm around her. “Remind me never to give you something for Valentine’s Day.” Through the archway, Agatha could see Guinevere in the dining room, collecting dirty dishes by herself.

“There’s nothing I’d want anyway,” she said. “Only gift I’d ever want is to talk to my mother one more time.” Tedros looked at her.

“Though if you could find a time to talk to your mother, just the two of you, that would mean nearly as much,” said Agatha.

Tedros looked away. “I think I’ve come far enough on that front.”

“You asked me for a way to show your love,” said Agatha. “I didn’t know it had limits.” Tedros didn’t answer and Agatha didn’t press him. Soon both of them were asleep in each other’s arms.

By three o’clock, Merlin’s hat had finished floating around the den, serving coffee and tea, and one by one, everyone began to drift back to the dining room, where the wizard was sitting at the head of the table. No one sat with him. Instead, the old heroes hugged the walls and the young students crouched on the floor, engaged in idle chatter, while the wizard just waited patiently. When an ominous silence fell, the old heroes quickly began filling it with stories of how they’d survived these past two weeks.

Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, for instance, had bunkered with the mermaids of Neverland, while Cinderella and Pinocchio had hidden in Rapunzel’s tower, reasoning that if Rapunzel was already dead, then the old villains certainly weren’t going to frequent the place.

“Her tower is a museum now, like Snow’s house, so there’s a rope that lets tourists climb all the way inside,” said Pinocchio. “Shoulda seen Ella climb, swinging and slamming against the tower like a wrecking ball. Kept whistling for birds to help, but with all her squawking and cursing, they just stood back and let nature take its course—” “If nature took its course, you’d be firewood,” Cinderella snarled.

Hansel and Gretel had used a similar strategy, for they’d returned to their witch’s old gingerbread house, also an Evers’ landmark now.

“Zombie witch is stupid but not so stupid to think we go back to her house,” explained Hansel. “My idea, of course.” “Your idea! Only thing you did was eat half the roof!” Gretel barked.

Agatha noticed Hester gnashing her teeth as she listened to this. . . . Suddenly Agatha’s eyes flared, remembering the witch’s defaced portrait in the School for Old. “Hester, that’s your house!” she whispered. “Your mother was that witch! She’s alive—somewhere in the Woods—” “She’s not alive, Agatha. She’s a zombie under the School Master’s control,” Hester hissed. “I’m not stupid or sentimental enough to think whatever dead-eyed goon he’s brought back from the grave is my mother.” “Hester, I know you pride yourself on being strong,” Agatha whispered worriedly, “but how can you just sit here with them talking about her like that? They killed her!” Hester glowered at her. “The biggest mistake a villain can make is to get caught up in revenge. Hansel and Gretel were two hungry kids trying to survive in the Woods. Mother thought she’d captured another pair of greedy, gluttonous brats, only to grossly underestimate them. Hansel and Gretel killed her because they had to. It wasn’t personal.” She glanced back at the old siblings. “Doesn’t mean I can stand the sight of ‘em, of course. But it also doesn’t mean their story has anything to do with mine anymore.” Agatha could see Dot and Anadil gazing at Hester with awe, and for a moment, Agatha wondered whether in this room of heroes young and old, Hester was the greatest hero of all.

“Shouldn’t have been so mean to her before,” Dot whispered to Agatha. “Must be hard having me as a friend when I’m the kinda girl her mother used to eat. I mean, if I’d gone to her house that day instead of Hansel and Gretel, her mother would still be alive. Gretel saved Hansel ‘cause she loved him, where I’d have ended up alone and cooked to a crisp. That’s why I’m not an Ever. Don’t have anyone who’d care enough about me to save me.” “That’s not true,” said a voice.

Dot turned to see Hester looking right at her.

“That’s not true at all,” Hester said.

Dot blushed.

Agatha forced her attention back to Jack and Briar Rose’s story, if only to hide a sniffle.

On they went, each hero regaling the room with raucous tales of survival—Red Riding Hood, Princess Uma, Yuba and the White Rabbit—until twelve had gone and only one remained. Then, and only then, did the room fall silent for good.

Slowly everyone turned to face the head of the table, their smiles gone.

Merlin took off his hat.

“Seven days,” he said. “That’s as long as the sun will light our Woods, based on Yuba’s calculations. Seven days. If we wish to survive beyond them, we have no choice but to attack the School for Evil and the School Master knows it. He knows Good will always fight for life. And I’m afraid we have no choice but to fall into his trap.” The wizard sighed. “At the same time, so many of our fellow heroes have been slain in the Woods that the shield over the Reader World is barely intact. If any one of our old League members die, I suspect it will fall at last. The School Master will invade their world and claim the secret ending he’s been after all along. An ending he believes will destroy Good forever.” For a moment, no one spoke, taking this in.

“I don’t understand. Isn’t killing these two duffers enough?” asked Cinderella, pointing at Agatha and Tedros. “It’s their fairy tale. Why does he need the Woods Beyond?” “It’s a good question and I wish I knew the answer,” said Merlin. “Though I have no doubt he’ll kill Agatha and Tedros too when the time comes.” Agatha and Tedros exchanged tense looks.

“I think it’s clear the School Master wants this fairy tale to be so cruel, so Evil, that Good has no power left beyond it,” said Merlin. “He’s already rewritten so much of our past. Now he’s after our future. He believes that whatever ending he has planned will make Evil invincible.” “And you have no idea what that ending is, Merlin?” Princess Uma pushed.

“Only an inkling and nothing I would share,” said Merlin. “Until I know for sure, however, our only hope is to catch Sophie and make her destroy that ring.” Agatha felt nauseous, trying to remember her best friend was leading the enemy now.

“So how do we do that?” asked Red Riding Hood.

Merlin smiled. “We charge the school, of course.”

The old heroes eyed each other warily. “Well, which Ever kingdoms are joining us?” asked Jack. “We’d need Maidenvale, Gillikin, and Avondale at the very least—” “None,” said Merlin.

“What?” Briar Rose blurted.

“None of the Ever kingdoms are joining us.”

The room was very still.

“Merlin,” said Peter Pan. “The School Master is young and strong. He has two hundred old villains who can’t be killed by anything other than fire, along with a school of young students—” “Leave that problem to me,” said Merlin. “In the meantime, I expect the League to work with our young heroes—Agatha, Tedros, Hort, Hester, Anadil, and Dot—and prepare them as best as you can for the villains they’ll face, given you once battled these same villains yourself. We leave for war one week from tonight.” “But we’re old bones!” Hansel blustered.

“And they’re young idiots!” said Gretel. “It’s impossible!”

“It’s idiocy!” said Cinderella.

“It’s a massacre is what it is,” said Red Riding Hood.

“The other option is to lay down and die,” said Agatha, launching to her feet.

Everyone turned to her. Tedros gave her a surprised look, as if she had far more courage than him at the moment.

Meanwhile, Agatha felt sweat puddling beneath the crown. She’d stood up before she actually had anything to say.

But then she saw Guinevere in the corner. The old queen nodded at her with a steely smile and Agatha felt her voice again.

“My mother died to let me live,” Agatha said, still watching Guinevere, as if she was feeding her the words. “For most of my life, I made the mistake of thinking she was clueless. I figured she was old and out of touch and couldn’t possibly know how hard it was to be young. Never paid much attention to her, just like me and Tedros discounted all of you when we first came to your cave.” “Discounted?” Peter heckled. “Your boyfriend called us a retirement home for the about-to-be-dead!” “Well, you had your own opinions about us, too,” said Agatha. “You thought what my mother did: that young people are careless and thoughtless and have it easy.” The old heroes grumbled agreement.

“But in the end, my mother knew how to keep me safe,” said Agatha. “She didn’t just save me from death . . . she also sent me to you. Not to a warrior kingdom, not to a young League of Knights, but to a group of legendary old heroes she knew would protect me. And she was right, wasn’t she? That’s why I put my faith in you, no matter how little you have in yourselves or in us. Because I might not have listened to my mother while she was alive. But I’m listening to her now.” Agatha leveled eyes with the League. “Me and my friends will tell you everything we know about the young School Master and his new school. In return, we need you to tell us how to defeat your old enemies. Let Merlin worry about our plan for war. Our job is to listen to each other, Ever and Never, young and old, no matter how puny our army is. And if anyone doesn’t want to be a part of that army, then leave now and see how you fare in the Woods alone.” Merlin stood up.

All eyes shot to him.

“Oh goodness. I’m not leaving,” he said. “Hips are a bit stiff.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

Agatha saw Tedros smiling at her, his expression soft, as if her words about her mother had meant as much to him as they had to her.

“Well then, now that our new queen has set the tone, the real work begins,” Merlin declared. He swished a finger across the table and tiny marble figurines of each member in the room appeared on top of it. “Each young student will train with an old hero . . .” Agatha crammed between Hester and Hort, trying to get a view of the table as Merlin paired up the figurines, announcing the training teams: Dot with Red Riding Hood, Anadil with Jack and Briar Rose . . .

Agatha couldn’t focus. Her crown was itching terribly and she looked up, hoping Tedros was far enough away that she could take it off— Only she couldn’t see Tedros anywhere.

And now that she was scanning the room, Guinevere wasn’t there either.

She heard the front door latch in the hall and glanced back to see a boy’s shadow through the window curtain, leading his mother out to the moors alone.

Hester elbowed her. “Pay attention.”

Agatha spun to the table. The wizard was glaring right at her, saying something about her mentor and her assignment in the war to come . . .

But Agatha couldn’t stop smiling, because for the briefest of moments, she felt like a war had already been won.