The School for Good and Evil (28 page)

1. If you attend the Ball with someone other than your first choice, but your first choice, who you’re madly in love with, asks you to dance, do you:

A)
Kindly inform them that if they wanted to dance with you they should have asked you to the Ball

B)
Dance with them, but only to a fast-paced
rondel

C)
Ditch your date for your first choice

D)
Ask your date what they would feel comfortable with

Agatha answered D. Underneath it, she wrote:

“Unless no one would ever ask you to a Ball, let alone to dance. Then this question doesn’t apply.”

2. Upon arriving at the Ball, you notice your friend’s breath smells unbearably of garlic and trout. However, your friend is going with the person you hoped would ask
you
to the Ball. Do you:

A)
Inform your friend at once of their foul odor

B)
Say nothing since it is your friend’s fault they smell

C)
Say nothing because you will enjoy watching them be embarrassed

D)
Offer them a piece of sweet licorice without mentioning their breath

Agatha answered A. She added, “
Because at least bad breath is temporary. Ugly is forever.
”

3. A baby dove with a broken wing slips into the Good Hall, crashes to the dance floor during the last waltz,
and is in severe danger of being crushed. Do you:

A)
Scream and stop the dance

B)
Finish the dance and then attend to the dove

C)
Kick the dove off the floor while dancing so it’s safe, then attend to it after

D)
Abandon the dance and rescue the dove, even if it means embarrassing your partner

Agatha answered D.
“My partner is imaginary. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

She answered the next 27 questions in the same spirit.

Perched at her desk made out of sugarplums, Professor Dovey scored the tests and shoved them under a gleaming pumpkin weight, face growing grimmer and grimmer.

“Just what I’ve been afraid of,” she fumed, flinging the tests back to the students. “Your answers are vain, vacuous, and at times downright villainous! No wonder that Sophie girl made fools of you all!”

“Attacks are over, aren’t they?” Tedros muttered.

“No thanks to you!” Professor Dovey barked, thrusting a red-drenched test at him. “A Never wins a Trial, lays waste to our school—and no Ever to catch her? No one Good to put down a
student
?”

She slung tests across a row. “Must I remind you that the Circus of Talents is in four days? And that whoever wins the Circus has the Theater of Tales moved to their school? Do you want your Theater moved to
Evil
? Do you want to walk with shame to Evil for the rest of the
year
?”

No one could meet her eyes.

“To be Good you must
prove
yourself Good, Evers,” Professor Dovey warned. “Defend. Forgive. Help. Give. Love. Those are our rules. But it is your
choice
to follow them.”

As she went over the tests, excoriating every wrong answer, Agatha shoved hers away. But then she noticed the corner:

100%

SEE ME
.

When the fairies chimed the end of class, Professor Dovey shooed all the Evers out, closed the pumpkin candy door, and locked it. She turned and found Agatha atop her desk, eating a sugarplum.

“So if I follow the rules,” Agatha said, chomping loudly, “I’m not a witch.”

Professor Dovey eyed the new hole in her desk. “Only a truly Good soul lives those rules, yes.”

“What if my face is Evil?” Agatha said.

“Oh, Agatha, don’t be ridic—”

“What if my
face
is
Evil
?”

Her teacher flinched at her tone.

“I’m far from home, I’ve lost my only friend, everyone here hates me, and all I want is a way to find some kind of happy ending,” Agatha said, red-hot. “But you can’t even tell me the truth. My ending is not about what Good I do or what’s inside me. It’s about how I
look
.” Spit flew out of her mouth.

“I never even had a
chance
.”

For a long moment, Professor Dovey just gazed at the door. Then she sat down on the desk next to Agatha, broke off a sugarplum, and bit into it with a juicy squirt.

“What did you think of Beatrix the first time you saw her?”

Agatha stared at the candy plum in her teacher’s hand.

“Agatha?”

“I don’t know. She was beautiful,” Agatha groused, remembering their fart-filled introduction.

“And now?”

“She’s revolting.”

“Has she gotten less pretty?”

“No, but—”

“So is she beautiful or not?”

“Yes, at first sight—”

“So beauty only lasts a glance?”

“Not if you’re a Good person—”

“So it’s being Good that matters? I thought you said it was looks.”

Agatha opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

“Beauty can only fight truth so long, Agatha. You and Beatrix share more in common than you think.”

“Great. I can be her animal slave,” Agatha said, and bit into her plum.

Professor Dovey stood up. “Agatha, what do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I don’t look in mirrors.”

“Why is that?”

“Because horses and hogs don’t sit around ogling their reflections!”

“What is it you’re afraid you’ll see?” Professor Dovey said, leaning near the pumpkin candy door.

“I’m not afraid of mirrors,” Agatha snorted.

“Then look in this one.”

She glanced up and saw the door near Professor Dovey was now a smooth, polished mirror.

She turned away. “Cute trick. That one in our book?”

“Look in the mirror, Agatha,” Professor Dovey said calmly.

“This is stupid.” Agatha leapt off the desk and tramped past her, head down to avoid her reflection. She couldn’t find a doorknob—

“Let me out!” She clawed at the door, closing her eyes every time she saw herself.

“If you look in the mirror, you may leave.”

Agatha struggled to make her finger glow—“
Let—me—out!
”

“Then look in the mirror.”

“LET ME OUT OR ELSE!”

“Just one look—”

Agatha slammed her clump against the glass. With a shiver, the mirror shattered, and she shielded herself from the shimmer and dust. When crashes petered to silence, she slowly lifted her head.

A new mirror glared back.

“Make it go away,” she pleaded, hiding her face.

“Just try, Agatha.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m ugly!”

“And what if you were beautiful?”

“
Look
at me,” Agatha moaned.

“Suppose you were.”

“But—”

“Suppose you were like the girls in storybooks, Agatha.”

“I don’t read that garbage,” Agatha snapped.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

Agatha stiffened.

“You read them just like your friend, dear,” said Professor Dovey. “The question is,
why
?”

Agatha didn’t say anything for a long time.

“
If
I was beautiful?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, dear.”

Agatha looked up, eyes glistening.

“I’d be happy.”

“That’s odd,” her teacher said, sweeping to her desk. “That’s just what Ella of Maidenvale said to me—”

“Well, three cheers for Ella of Maidenvale!” Agatha sulked.

“I gave her a visit when I found out she wished to go to a Ball and then couldn’t go through with it. All she needed was a new face and a nice pair of shoes.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with anyth—” Agatha’s eyes widened. “Ella . . .
Cinder
ella?”

“Not even my best work, however notorious,” said her teacher, caressing a pumpkin paperweight. “You know, they sell these in Maidenvale. Doesn’t match Ella’s coach at all, really.”

Agatha staggered back. “But—but that means you’re—”

“The most wished-for fairy godmother in the Endless Woods. At your service, dear.”

Agatha’s head felt light. She leaned against the door.

“I warned you when you saved the gargoyle, Agatha,” Professor Dovey said. “You are a powerful talent. Good enough to conquer any Evil. Good enough to find your happy ending, even if you’ve lost your way! Everything you need is
inside
you, Agatha. And now, more than ever, we need you to let it out. But if it’s beauty that’s holding you back, dear . . .”

She sighed. “Well, that’s easily taken care of, isn’t it?”

Reaching into her green gown, she pulled out a thin, cherrywood wand.

“Now close your eyes and make a wish.”

Agatha blinked to make sure she was awake. Fairy tales always punished girls like her. Fairy tales never gave ugly girls wishes.

“
Any
wish?” she said, voice cracking.

“Any wish,” said her fairy godmother.

“And I have to say it out loud?”

“I’m not a mind reader, dear.”

Agatha looked at her through tears. “But it’s—I’ve never said it to anyone—”

“Then it’s about time.”

Trembling, Agatha looked at the wand in her hand and closed her eyes. Could this really be happening?

“I wish . . .”

She couldn’t breathe.

“To be . . . you know . . . uh . . .”

“Magic responds to conviction, I’m afraid,” said Professor Dovey.

Agatha gulped for air.

All she could think about was Sophie. Sophie staring right at her, as if she were a dog.

GET YOUR OWN LIFE!

Her heart suddenly seared hot with anger. Teeth clenched, she curled her fists, raised her head, and with a shout—

“I wish to be beautiful!”

The swish of a wand and a sickening crack.

Agatha opened her eyes.

Professor Dovey frowned at the broken wand in her hand.

“A bit ambitious, that wish. We’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

She let out a deafening whistle and six pink-skinned, seven-foot, rainbow-haired nymphs landed through the window in a neat row.

Agatha backed against the mirror. “Wait—hold on—”

“They’ll be gentle. As they can.”

Agatha managed a last yowl before the nymphs descended on her like bears.

Professor Dovey shielded her eyes from the carnage.

“They really are too tall.”

Agatha’s eyes fluttered open in shadow. She felt achy and strange, as if she’d been asleep for days. She blearily took in her fully dressed body slumped in a green chair, restraints undone—

She was in the Groom Room. The nymphs were gone.

Agatha jumped from the chair. The aromatic bath pools were all sudsy and flooded. The Rose Red makeup station in front of her was lined with a hundred bottles of uncorked waxes, creams, dyes, and masks. In the sink were used razors, files, knives, and picks. On the floor were mounds of shorn hair.

Agatha picked some up.

It was blond.

Mirror.

She whipped around but the other chair-and-mirror stations were gone. She frantically touched her hair, her skin. Everything felt softer, smoother. She touched her lips, her nose, her chin. Everything felt daintier.

“All she needed was a new face.”

She collapsed back in the chair.

They did it.

They did the impossible! She was normal! No, she wasn’t just normal. She was pretty! She was lovable! She was—

Beautiful!

Finally she could live! Finally she could be happy!

Napping in his nest atop the door, Albemarle let out a particularly loud snore as it swung open.

“Have a good night, Albemarle!”

Albemarle peeked open a spectacled eye. “Have a good night, Aga—oh,
my
!”

Agatha’s smile only grew as she ascended the steps to the first floor.

She had to get to the gilded mirror near the Supper Hall (she had memorized all the mirror locations in the school so she could avoid them). Agatha felt giddily light. Would she even
recognize
herself?

She heard gasps and saw Reena and Millicent goggling down at her through the gap in the spiral staircase.

“Hello, Reena!” Agatha beamed. “Hello, Millicent!”

Both girls were too stunned to wave back. As she waltzed into the stair room, Agatha felt herself smile even wider.

Climbing up the Legends Obelisk, Chaddick and Nicholas considered portraits of past Evergirls.

“Rapunzel was a 4 at best,” said Chaddick, hanging off a brick like a mountaineer. “But this Martine was a solid 9.”

“Too bad she ended up a horse,” said Nicholas.

“Wait until they put Agatha on the wall. She’ll end up a—”

“What? What will I end up?”

Chaddick turned to Agatha. He gawped open-mouthed.

“A cat?” Agatha grinned. “I seem to have eaten your tongue.”

“Oooh,” Nicholas chimed, and Chaddick kicked him off the pillar.

Smiling so wide it hurt now, Agatha sauntered up the Valor stairs towards the Supper Hall. She glided through royal blue arches for the gold double doors, ready to face the mirror inside, ready to feel what Sophie had felt all her life—but just as she reached for them, the doors opened in her face.

“Excuse me—”

Agatha heard the voice before she saw him. Slowly she looked up, heart thundering.

Tedros stared at her, looking so confused she thought she had somehow petrified him with a villain spell.

He coughed, as if trying to find his voice. “Um. Hi.”

“Hi,” Agatha said, smiling stupidly.

Silence.

“What’s for supper?” she said even more stupidly.

“Duckling,” he squeaked.

He coughed again.

“Sorry. It’s just, you look . . . you look so . . .”