Never After (School for Good and Evil x Reader)

Chapter 35

As Lady Lesso awarded ranks, Y/n passed notes with Anadil and Hester about paths into the boys' school. In the next aisle, Agatha leaned her frozen chair back, squinting at the faint marks on Y/n's wrist.

It was only noon, but Trial Tryouts were in full swing. Each of the class challenges involved slaying phantom princes that the teachers conjured to be as vile as possible, lunging at the girls with zombified faces and sickening screams. Indeed, the teachers seemed to have lost all reluctance, with even Professor Anemone sanctioning the most vicious deaths. Lives were at stake now, and the teachers fully invested in finding the best possible team.

Y/n, Sophie, and Agatha resolved to act enthused through all of it so the Dean wouldn't suspect their impending plans to escape. And indeed, Y/n played her part well, dispatching boy phantoms with alarming vengeance, cheering on her fellow classmates, and remaining immune from the frightening villain symptoms that had plagued her days before.

"Once we're home, the Elders won't hurt us if there are no more attacks . . . and I'll just spend time at your house instead of mine . . . ," Sophie considered as they'd walked to Lesso's. "Maybe I'll even get my own show after all!"

"As long as you don't put me in it," Agatha grouched before Sophie's grin made her crack up.

Agatha wanted to be suspicious of it, to ask how Sophie could forgive her so easily—but Sophie just seemed so relieved and happy to have her best friend again. Y/n was still quiet, but not as isolated as she'd once been.

Given all she'd caused with her wish, Agatha had even more motivation than Sophie to get out of this school. She racked her brain for ways into Tedros' tower but always came up empty. Her frustration leaked into Tryouts, where she lashed out at boys like the witch-girl of old, stabbing phantoms through, setting them on fire, watching coldly as they shattered to dust. By the third challenge, all the reasons she'd once hated Tedros came roaring back— his arrogance, his recklessness, his hotheaded immaturity—

And yet . . . why did Dot's question still nag at her?

There was no missing piece, Agatha assured herself. Tedros had attacked her. Tedros ruined their fairy tale.

Her soul's wish for him had been wrong.

And yet . . . Agatha found herself tilting farther in her chair, Y/n's hand still too far away to see. She reclined even more, teetering on one chair leg, until Hester's iced desktop was in front of Y/n's wrist, magnifying it like a lens.

Agatha's eyes widened, recognizing the faint wounds in her sister's skin, patterned with deep needle pricks.

Spirick cuts.

Where had Y/n encountered spiricks?

In the Woods, of course, Agatha reminded herself. That's where they'd attacked her, hadn't they?

And yet, Y/n's wounds still looked fresh . . .

Y/n turned to her, and Agatha's chair nearly toppled.

"Come to the library with me," she said, "ten minutes before fourth session. We can look at spying spells."

Agatha smiled and grabbed her bag, shoving spiricks from her mind.

No more doubts. No more distrust, she thought, following her sister upstairs.

***

Melting black candles lined the walls of Evil Hall, with yellow-green flames the color of snake eyes.

In the center of the room, twelve white coffin beds lay in a row, each with the body of a male teacher from Good or Evil. Tanned, mustached Professor Espada, who taught Swordplay to Everboys; pimpled, bald Professor Manley, who taught Uglification to Neverboys; wizened, doddering Professor Lukas, who taught Chivalry; Castor, who led Henchmen Training, his brother Pollux's head missing from their two-headed dog body; Beezle, Evil's redskinned dwarf, next to a pack of Forest Group leaders—an ogre, a centaur, and a sprite among them; even Albemarle, the spectacled woodpecker who'd once tallied Good's rankings . . . all breathing in sync, their sleeping faces peaceful.