Agatha stared out at the red fortress, still numb. “The Storian’s in a boys’ school?”
“Either free it and get Sophie home alive . . . or kiss Tedros before he kills her.” Professor Dovey met Agatha’s shocked eyes. “Kiss your prince and mean it, and you’ll stay here with him Ever After. Sophie will be gone from your story forever . . . and vanish home alone.”
“Home alone?” Sophie gasped as if she’d been shot. “Gavaldon alone? While she gets . . . him?”
“These are the only two endings that can prevent war,” Professor Dovey said.
The only sound in the room was the echo of murderous princes.
Sophie gave Agatha a horrible look and curled back into her ball.
Tedros, Agatha gritted. How could she wish for a boy who’d take love this far? How could she wish for a boy who’d kill her best friend? Her old witchy self would never have let this happen.
“Third option,” she said, storming to the door. “Tell Tedros he’s a delusional ass.”
“No.”
Agatha turned.
“You wished for him,” Sophie spat, blotched with rage. “And you want me to trust you two alone?”
Agatha stepped back. Sophie looked even more a witch than she did in the graveyard.
“I won’t intervene in your lovers’ quarrel, but I suggest Agatha make her choice soon,” Lady Lesso snapped. “Once Tedros breaks the princes through my shield, all our lives will be in danger.”
“We’ll hide you and Sophie in the Blue Forest until you have a plan,” Professor Dovey said to Agatha, pulling a ring of keys. “None of the girls can know you’ve come.”
Agatha looked up, dazed. “Why not?”
“Because unlike your two teachers, they think this is the best thing that’s ever happened,” said a honey-smooth voice.
The two professors and two girls turned to see a tall, ravishing woman push through the door, milky smooth and full-bosomed in a teacher’s electric-blue dress decorated with a pattern of butterflies. She had a waterfall of chestnut hair to her midback, forest-green eyes under thick dark brows, a luscious pink mouth, and a gap between her two shiny front teeth.
“My brother’s office?” she said, biting her bee-stung lips. “I wasn’t aware it was where we held secret meetings.”
“It’s the only place we can’t be overheard,” Lady Lesso returned, her voice oddly tentative.
“Well I do believe I should have been alerted to our honored guests,” the woman said breathily, turning to Sophie and Agatha. “After all, they are the reason this magnificent school exists.”
The two girls gawped at her.
“We’ve been meticulously preparing for your arrival,” said the stranger, knitting her arched brows. “And we nearly may have missed it.” She flashed a look at the two teachers.
Agatha shook her head. “But how did you know we were com—”
“Goodness, you two look frightful,” the woman said, magically restoring their faces and dresses with her finger. Only Sophie’s dress magically lost its pink color too and drained blank white.
Sophie grabbed her hem. “What happened to my—”
“Come, girls.” The woman sashayed for the door. “We’ve put your books and schedules in your room.”
“Schedules!” Professor Dovey launched to her feet. “You’re not thinking of them going to class, Evelyn!”
The woman twirled. “As long as they are at my school, they will attend class and abide by the rules. Which includes staying in their school at all times. Surely you don’t object to the rules?”
Sophie and Agatha waited for the professors to indeed object, but Dovey and Lesso were curiously quiet, eyes on a pair of blue butterflies that had settled on the tips of their noses.
“I see our former deans neglected to inform you about the most important change at your new school,” the stranger said, smiling at the two girls. “Evelyn Sader. Dean of the School for Girls. Sorry for the hurry. I don’t want to keep everyone waiting. Follow me, please.”
As she turned and swept through the door, Sophie saw the two butterflies land on her matching dress and vanish magically into its pattern. She let out a breath of surprise. “Keep who waiting?”
As more butterflies fell into her dress, the beautiful woman didn’t look back.
“Your army,” she said, as if she’d just listened to their entire conversation.
6
Her Name Is Yara
“An army dedicated to producing stories just like yours,” said Dean Sader, clacking through the sun-washed breezeway from Valor to Honor in her blue-glass heels. “Your tale was just a taste of what princesses and witches can do together. Here you will lead an entire school!”
“A school—” Agatha choked, chasing her down the Honor stairs. “We need to go home!”
“You see, the former deans and I have a difference of opinion,” said Dean Sader as butterflies flew in from every direction and vanished into her dress. “They think you must leave our world to find your happy ending together. And I think you must stay.”
“But the boys are going to kill me!” Sophie said, bumping Agatha hard as she passed—
“Mmmm, let’s say you do break into a castle full of bloodthirsty males,” the Dean said, sweeping her buxom behind through the foyer. “Let’s say you free the Storian against all odds.” She stopped outside the frosted doors of the Gallery of Good. “The wish won’t work unless you mean it.”
She gazed at Sophie. “How can you wish for Agatha if you know she wants her prince?”
The Dean turned to Agatha. “How can you wish for Sophie if you fear the witch inside?”
She leaned in so close the girls could smell her flawless honeycream skin.
“How can you wish for someone you do not trust?”
Sophie and Agatha’s eyes met dartingly, hoping the other would argue. Neither did.
“Your friendship must be fixed before you can go home. And here you will fix what is broken,” Dean Sader said, a last butterfly fluttering into her dress. “Fairy tales have trained us to believe a beautiful bond like yours cannot last. Why? Because a man must come between you. A man so threatened by your story that he’s willing to kill to destroy it. But at my school, we teach you the truth.” She opened the door to pitch darkness.