The Princesses of Gavaldon

Chapter 16

The  cover  was  silver  silk,  painted  with  the  glowing  Storian  clutched between black and white swans.

A Student's History of the Woods
AUGUST A. SADER

Agatha opened to the first page.
"This  book  reflects  the  views  of  its author  ONLY.  Professor  Sader's
interpretation  of  history  is  his  alone  and  the  faculty  does  not  share  it.
Sincerely, Clarissa Dovey & Lady Lesso, Deans of the School for Good and Evil."

Agatha felt encouraged the faculty disapproved of the book in her hands.

It gave her more hope that somewhere in these pages was the answer to the riddle.

The difference between a princess and a witch . . . the proof Good and Evil were balanced. . . . Could they be the same?

She flipped the page to start, but it didn't have words. Splashed across it were patterns of embossed dots in a rainbow of colors, small as pinheads.

Agatha turned the page. More dots. She tore through fistfuls of pages. No words at all. She dumped her face to the book in frustration.

Sader's voice boomed:

"Chapter Fourteen: The Great War."
Agatha  lurched  up.  Before  her  eyes,  a  ghostly  three-dimensional  scene melted into view atop the book page—a living diorama, colors gauzy like Sader's  paintings  in  the  gallery. 

She  crouched  to  watch  a  silent  vision
unfold of three wizened old men, beards to the floor, standing in the School Master's tower with hands united.

As the old men opened their hands, the
gleaming Storian levitated out of them and over a familiar white stone table.

Sader's disembodied voice continued:
"Now remember from Chapter One, the Storian was placed at the School for Good and Evil by the Three Seers of the Endless Woods, who believed it the only place it could be protected from corruption . . ."

Agatha gawked in disbelief. Sightless Sader couldn't write history. But he could see it and wanted the same for his students. Every time she turned a page and touched the dots, living history came alive to his narration. Most of Chapter 14 recounted what Sophie had told her at lunch: that the School had been ruled by two sorcerer brothers, one Good, one Evil, whose love for each other overcame their loyalties to either side.

But in time, the Evil brother found love give way to temptation, until he saw only one obstacle between him and the pen's infinite power . . . his own blood.

Agatha's hands swept over dots, scanning exhaustive scenes of Great War battles, alliances, betrayals to see how it all ended. Her fingers stopped as she  watched  a  familiar  figure  in  silver  robes  and  mask  rise  out  of  the burning carnage of battle, Storian in hand:

"From  the  final  fight  between  Evil  brother  and  Good  brother,  a  victor
emerged  beholden  to  neither  side.  In  the  Great  Truce,  the  triumphant School Master vowed to rise above Good and Evil and protect the balance for as long as he could keep himself alive. Neither side trusted the victor, of course. But they didn't need to."

The scene flashed to the dying brother, burning to ashes as he desperately stabbed his hand into the sky, unleashing a burst of silver light—

"For the dying brother used his final embers of magic to create a last spell against his twin: a way to prove Good and Evil still equal. As long as this  proof  stayed  intact,  then  the  Storian  remained  uncorrupted  and  the Woods in perfect balance. And as to what this proof is . . ."

Agatha's heart leapt—

"It remains in the School for Good and Evil to this very day."

The scene went dark.

She turned the page urgently, touched the dots. Sader's voice boomed—

"Chapter Fifteen: The Woodswide Roach Plague."

Agatha flung the book against the wall, then the others, leaving cracks in
painted couples' faces.

When there were no more to throw, she buried her face in the bed.

Please. Help us.

Then in the silence between prayers and tears, something came. Not even
a thought. An impulse.

Agatha lifted her head.

The answer to the riddle looked back at her.


It's just a haircut, Sophie told herself as she climbed through a cornflower thicket.

No one will even notice.

She slid between two periwinkle trees into the West Clearing, approaching her group from behind.

Just find Agatha and—

The group turned all at once. No one laughed. Not Dot. Not Tedros. Not even Beatrix. They gaped with such horror Sophie couldn't breathe.

"Excuse  me—something  in  my  eye—"  She  ducked  behind  a  blue rosebush and gulped for air. She couldn't bear any more humiliation.

"Least you look like a Never now," Tedros said, bobbing behind the bush.

"So no one makes my mistake."
Sophie turned beet red.

"Well, this is what happens when you're friends with a witch," the prince frowned.

Now, Sophie was a pomegranate.
"Look, it's not that bad. Not as bad your friend, at least."

"Excuse me," said Sophie, eggplant purple. "Something in my other eye—"

She darted out and grabbed Dot like a life raft—"Where's Agatha!"

But Dot was still staring at her hair. Sophie cleared her throat.

"Oh, um, they haven't let her out of her room," Dot said. "Too bad she'll
miss the Flowerground. If Yuba can call the conductor, that is." She nodded at the gnome, grumpily jabbing at a blue pumpkin patch. Dot's eyes drifted back to Sophie's hair.

"It's . . . nice."

"Please don't," Sophie said softly.

Dot's eyes misted. "You were so pretty."

"It'll grow back," Sophie said, trying not to cry.

"Don't worry," Dot sniffled. "One day, someone Evil enough will kill that monster."

Sophie stiffened.

"All aboard!" Yuba called.

She turned to see Tedros open the top of an ordinary blue pumpkin like a teapot and vanish inside.

Sophie squinted. "What in the—"

Something  poked  her  hip  and  she  looked  down.  Yuba  thrust  a Flowerground  pass  at  her  and  opened  the  pumpkin  lid,  revealing  a  thin
caterpillar in a violet velvet tuxedo and matching top hat, floating in a swirl
of pastel colors.

"No  spitting, sneezing, singing, sniffling, swinging, swearing, slapping, sleeping, or urinating in the Flowerground," he said in the crabbiest voice imaginable.

"Violations will result in removal of your clothes. All aboard!"

Sophie whipped to Yuba. "Wait! I need to find my frien—"

A vine shot up and yanked her in.

Too  stunned  to  scream,  she  plunged  through  dazzling  pinks,  blues, yellows, as more tendrils lashed and fastened around her like safety belts.

Sophie heard a hiss and wheeled to see a giant green flytrap swallow her. She found her scream before vines jerked her out of its mouth into a tunnel of hot, blinding mist and hooked her onto something that kept her moving while her feet and arms dangled freely in the ivy harness. Then the mist cleared and Sophie saw the most magical thing she'd ever seen.

It  was  an  underground  transport  system,  big  as  a  whole  village,  made
entirely of luminescent plants. Dangling passengers hung on to vine straps attached  to  glowing,  different-colored  tree  trunks  covered  in  matching flowers.

These  color-coded  trunks  wove  together  in  a  colossal  maze  of tracks.

Some  trunks  ran  parallel,  some  perpendicular,  some  forked  in different directions, but all took riders to their precise destinations in the Endless  Woods. 

Sophie  stared  in  shock  at  a  row  of  unsmiling  dwarves, pickaxes  in  belts,  clinging  to  straps  off  a  fluorescent  red  trunk  labeled ROSALINDA  LINE. 

Running  in  the  opposite  direction  was  the  glittery green ARBOREA LINE, with a family of bears in crisp suits and dresses
among the riders hanging off shamrock vines.

Flabbergasted, Sophie peered down her HIBISCUS LINE to see the rest of her group swinging from an electric-blue trunk. But only the Nevers were strapped into harnesses.

"Flowerground's only for Evers," Dot called out. "They have to let us on 'cause we're with the school. But they still don't trust us."

Sophie didn't care. She would ride the Flowerground for the rest of her life  if  she  could.

  Besides  its  strong,  soothing  pace  and  delicious  scents, there  was  an  orchestra  of  lizards  for  each  line:  the  TANGERINE  LINE lizards  strummed  bouncy  banjo  guitars,  the  VIOLET  LINE  ones  played sultry  sitars,  and  the  lizards  on  Sophie's  line  piped  up-tempo  jingles  on piccolos,  accompanied  by  caroling  blue  frogs. 

Lest  riders  grow  hungry, each line had its own snacks, with bluebirds fluttering along the HIBISCUS LINE, offering blue-corn muffins  and blueberry punch. For  once, Sophie had all she needed. Muscles unclenching, she forgot about boys and beasts as vines pulled her up, up, into a churning wind wheel of blue light. Her
body felt wind, then air, then earth, and arms unfurling into the sky, Sophie bloomed out of the ground like a heavenly hyacinth—

And found herself in a graveyard.

Headstones the color of the bleak sky swept over barren hills. Shivering classmates spouted from a hole in the ground next to her.

"Wherrre arrre wweee?" she stammered through chattering teeth.

"Garden—of—Good and Evil," Dot shivered, nibbling a chocolate lizard.

"Doesn'ttt look likke a garrrden to meee," Sophie chattered back.

Warmth thawed her skin as  Yuba sparked a few  small fires around the group with his magical staff. Sophie and her classmates exhaled.

"In a few weeks you will each be unlocked to perform spells," said the gnome  to  excited  titters. 

"But  spells  are  no  substitute  for  survival  skills. Meerworms live near graves and can keep you alive when food is scarce. Today you'll be finding and eating them!"

Sophie clutched her stomach.

"Off you go! Teams of two!" the gnome said. "Whichever team eats the most meerworms wins the challenge!" His eyes flicked to Sophie. "Perhaps our black sheep can find redemption."

"Black  sheep  can't  find  anything  without Good's Queen,"  Tedros murmured.

Sophie moped miserably as he paired up with Beatrix.

"Come on," Dot said, pulling Sophie to the ground.

"We can beat them."

Suddenly  motivated,  Sophie  started  searching  the  ground  with  Dot, careful to stay close to the fire. "What do meerworms look like?"

"Like worms," said Dot.

Sophie was deliberating a retort when she noticed a figure in the distance, silhouetted atop a hill.

It was a massive giant, with a long black beard, thick dreadlocks, and midnight-blue skin. He wore only a small brown loincloth
as he dug a row of graves.

"Does it all himself, the Crypt Keeper," Dot said to Sophie. "That's why there's such a backlog."

Sophie followed her eyes to a two-mile line of bodies and coffins behind the Crypt  Keeper,  waiting  for  burial. 

Immediately  she  could  see  the
difference  between  the  Nevers'  dark  stone  coffins  and  the  Evers'  coffins made of glass and gold. But there were also some bodies without caskets, just lying untended on the hillslope beneath circling vultures.

"Why doesn't he have help?" she said, nauseous.

"'Cause no one can interfere with the Crypt Keeper's system," Hort said softly. "Two years my dad's waited." His voice cracked.

"Killed by Peter Pan himself, my dad. Deserves a proper grave."

Now  the  whole  group  was  watching  the  Crypt  Keeper  dig  his  graves, before  pulling  a  big  book  from  his  mass  of  hair  and  studying  one  of  its pages.

Then the giant picked up a gold coffin with a handsome prince insideand  heaved  it  into  the  empty  plot.  He  moved  down  the  line  of  waiting bodies,  picked  up  a  crystal  coffin  with  a  beautiful  princess,  and  laid  it beside the prince's coffin in the same grave.

"Anastasia and Jacob. Died of starvation while on honeymoon. Avoidable deaths had they paid attention in class," Yuba snapped.

Grumbling, the students went back to meerworm hunting, but Sophie kept her eye on the Crypt Keeper, who studied his book again before picking up a coffinless ogre and plunking him in the next plot.

Back to the book, and then he rested a resplendent queen's silver tomb beside a matching king's.

Sophie's eyes drifted around the graveyard and saw the same pattern on every hill and valley. Evers buried together with twin headstones—boy and girl, man and wife, prince and princess, together in life and in death.

Nevers buried all alone.

Ever After. Paradise together.
Nevermore. Paradise alone.

Sophie froze. She knew the answer to the School Master's riddle.

"Perhaps we should search Necro Ridge," Yuba sighed. "Come, students
—"
"Cover for me," Sophie whispered to Dot.
Dot swiveled. "Where are you—wait! We're a—"

But  Sophie  was  scampering  through  distant  gravestones  towards  the Flowerground entrance.

"Team," Dot sulked.

A short while later, in the Blue Forest, five stymphs looked up from their billy goat to see Sophie brandishing an egg.

"Let's try this again, shall we?"

It  was  there  all  along,  Agatha  thought  as  she  gazed  at  the  walls.  The weapon that made Good invincible against Evil. The thing a villain could never have but a princess couldn't do without. The task that would send her and Sophie home.

If Sophie is alive.

Agatha felt another wave of powerless dread. She couldn't just sit here while Sophie was being tortured—

Screams  pealed  outside.  She  spun  to  see  Sophie  hurled  through  her window by a bucking stymph.

"Love," Sophie panted.

"You're alive! Your hair," Agatha gasped—

"Love is what a villain can never have but a heroine can't live without."

"But what did they—are you—"

"Am I right or not?"

Agatha saw Sophie had no intention of talking about the Doom Room.

"Almost." She pointed to the paintings on the wall with visions of heroes and heroines, lips pressed in climactic embrace.

"True love's kiss," Sophie breathed.

"If your true love kisses you, then you can't be a villain," Agatha said.

"And if you can't find love, then you can't be a princess," said Sophie.

"And we go home." Agatha swallowed. "My half will be taken care of. I can act thuggish and brutal. Yours isn't so simple."

"Oh, please. I can make any one of those disgusting Neverboys fall in love with me. Just give me five minutes, an empty broom closet, and—"

"There's only one, Sophie," Agatha said, voice fraying. "For every Ever, there's only one true love."

Sophie met her eyes. She collapsed onto the bed.

"Tedros."

Agatha nodded sickly. The road home led through the one person who could ruin everything.

"Tedros has to . . . kiss me?" Sophie said, staring into space.

"And he can't be tricked, forced, or duped into it. He has to mean it.

"But how? He thinks I'm a villain! He hates me! Aggie, he's a king's son. He's beautiful, he's perfect and look at me—" She grabbed her shorn hair and flaccid robes.

"I'm—I'm—"

"Still a princess."
Sophie looked at her. "And the only way we'll get home," said Agatha, forcing a smile.

"So we have to make this kiss happen."

"We?" said Sophie.

"We," rasped Agatha.

Sophie hugged her tight.

"We're going home, Aggie."
But in her arms, Agatha sensed something else. Something that told her the Doom Room had taken more from her friend than just her hair. Agatha squelched her doubts and clasped Sophie tighter.

"One kiss and it will all be over," she whispered.

As they embraced in one tower, in another the School Master watched the Storian finish a magnificent painting of the two girls in each other's arms.

The pen added a last flourish of words beneath it, closing the chapter.

"But no kiss comes without its price."

Ho, another chap finished! Yay!