“Hi. I’m Beatrix,” she said, and made sure he saw all of her roses.
From the Evil seats, Sophie tried to get his attention.
“Turn yourself into a mirror. Then you’ll have a chance.”
Sophie turned to Hester, sitting next to her.
“His name is Tedros,” her roommate said. “And he’s just as stuck-up as his father.”
Sophie was about to ask who his father was, but then glimpsed his sword, dazzling silver, with a hilt of diamonds. A sword with a lion crest she knew from storybooks. A sword named Excalibur.
“He’s King Arthur’s son?” Sophie breathed. She studied Tedros’ high cheekbones, silky blond hair, and thick, tender lips. His broad shoulders and strong arms filled out his blue shirt, tie loosened and collar undone. He looked so serene and assured, as if he knew destiny was on his side.
Gazing at him, Sophie felt her own destiny lock into place.
He’s mine.
Suddenly she felt a hot glare across the aisle.
“We’re going home,” Agatha mouthed clearly.
“Welcome to the School for Good and Evil,” said the nicer of the two heads.
From their seats on opposite sides of the aisle, Sophie and Agatha tracked the massive dog with two heads attached to a single body, pacing across a silver stone stage, cracked down the middle. One head was rabid, drooling, and male, with a grizzly mane. The other head was cuddly and cute, with a weak jaw, scanty fur, and singsong voice. No one was sure if the cuter head was male or female, but whatever it was, it seemed to be in charge.
“I’m Pollux, Welcoming Leader,” said the nice head.
“AND I’M CASTOR, WELCOMING LEADER ASSISTANT AND EXECUTIVE EXECUTIONER OF PUNISHMENT FOR ANYONE WHO BREAKS RULES OR ACTS LIKE A DONKEY,” the rabid one boomed.
All the children looked scared of Castor. Even the villains.
“Thank you, Castor,” said Pollux. “So let me first remind you why it is you’re here. All children are born with souls that are either Good or Evil. Some souls are purer than others—”
“AND SOME SOULS ARE CRAP!” Castor barked.
“As I was saying,” said Pollux, “some souls are purer than others, but all souls are fundamentally Good or Evil. Those who are Evil cannot make their souls Good, and those who are Good cannot make their souls Evil—”
“SO JUST ’CAUSE GOOD IS WINNING EVERYTHING DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN SWITCH SIDES,” snarled Castor.
The Good students cheered, “EVERS! EVERS!”; Evil students retorted, “NEVERS! NEVERS!” before wolves doused Evers with water buckets, fairies cast rainbows over the Nevers, and both sides shut up.
“Once again,” said Pollux tightly, “those who are Evil cannot be good and those who are Good cannot be Evil, no matter how much you’re persuaded or punished. Now sometimes you may feel the stirrings of both but this just means your family tree has branches where Good and Evil have toxically mixed. But here at the School for Good and Evil, we will rid you of stirrings, we will rid you of confusion, we will try to make you as pure as possible—”
“AND IF YOU FAIL, THEN SOMETHING SO BAD WILL HAPPEN TO YOU THAT I CAN’T SAY, BUT IT INVOLVES YOU NEVER BEING SEEN AGAIN!”
“One more and it’s the muzzle!” Pollux yelled. Castor stared at his toes.
“None of these brilliant students will fail, I’m sure,” Pollux smiled at the relieved children.
“You say that every time and then someone fails,” Castor mumbled.
Sophie remembered Bane’s scared face on the wall and shuddered. She had to get to Good soon.
“Every child in the Endless Woods dreams of being picked to attend our school. But the School Master chose you,” said Pollux, scanning both sides. “For he looked into your hearts and saw something very rare. Pure Good and Pure Evil.”
“If we’re so pure, then what’s that?”
An impish blond boy with spiky ears stood from Evil and pointed to Sophie.
A burly boy from Good pointed to Agatha. “We have one too!”
“Ours smells like flowers!” yelled a villain.
“Ours ate a fairy!”
“Ours smiles too much!”
“Ours farted in our face!”
Sophie turned to Agatha, aghast.
“Every class, we bring two Readers here from the Woods Beyond,” Pollux declared. “They may know our world from pictures and books, but they know our rules just as well as you. They have the same talents and goals, the same potential for glory. And they too have been some of our finest students.”
“Like two hundred years ago,” Castor snorted.
“They are no different than the rest of you,” Pollux said defensively.
“They look different than the rest of us,” cracked an oily, brown-skinned villain.
Students from both schools murmured in agreement. Sophie stared down Agatha, as if to say this could all be solved with a simple costume change.
“Do not question the School Master’s selections,” said Pollux. “All of you will respect each other, whether you’re Good or Evil, whether you’re from a famous tale family or a failed one, whether you’re a sired prince or a Reader. All of you are chosen to protect the balance between Good and Evil. For once that balance is compromised . . .” His face darkened. “Our world will perish.”
A hush fell over the hall. Agatha grimaced. The last thing she needed was this world perishing while they were still in it.
Castor raised his paw. “What,” Pollux groaned.
“Why doesn’t Evil win anymore?”
Pollux looked like he was about to bite his head off, but it was too late. The villains were rumbling.
“Yeah, if we’re so balanced,” yelled Hort, “why do we always die?”
“We never get good weapons!” shouted the impish boy.
“Our henchmen betray us!”
“Our Nemesis always has an army!”
Hester stood. “Evil hasn’t won in two hundred years!”
Castor tried to control himself, but his red face swelled like a balloon. “GOOD IS CHEATING!”
Nevers leapt up in mutiny, hurling food, shoes, and anything else at hand at horrified Evers—
Sophie slunk down in her seat. Tedros couldn’t possibly think she was one of these ugly hooligans, could he? She peeked over the bench and caught him staring right at her. Sophie pinked and ducked back down.