"I don't understand," Sophie said. "What does this have to do with getting into the boys' school?"
I ignored her, glaring at Helga the Gnome, bound to a frilly rocking chair, long white hair covered in kale flakes. "Either you tell us how you do it, Yuba, or we give you to the Dean."
"I find your charges deeply offensive," Helga retorted, her voice tight and pitchy. "All males have been evicted—"
"We saw you, Yuba," said Hester, arms crossed next to Dot. "We saw your face."
"Yuba? Me? Preposterous," Helga scowled, struggling for the white staff out of reach. "Now leave at once, before I call the Dean myself."
"Please! We need your help," Agatha begged—
"But how can she help us with boys? And why do you keep calling her Yuba?" Sophie badgered, pointing at the dowdy gnome. "I feel like I'm missing something—"
"A brain," Hester murmured.
With the butterflies generally dormant at night, we had waited until after midnight before each of us took a turn sneaking into the Blue Forest (Anadil was caught by Pollux and had to abort the plan). There was no way to squeeze through the tiny gnome hole we'd seen, but Dot had turned the ground around it to kale and the rest stomped through, stunning Helga in her lair. While the witches tied the gnome to the chair, Agatha poked around the tiny furniture and bookshelves for signs of a male inhabitant, but the doily linens, abundance of flowerpots, and lavender wallpaper all had a decidedly female touch.
Sophie frowned as she sniffed a flowerpot. "Strange, though . . . ," she said airily. "Never met a girl who likes hydrangeas."
Agatha humphed at Helga, as if this idiocy would have to suffice as proof. "We know about Merlin's spell, Yuba. We saw it in our book. We know you used it."
"The Dean has revised all her brother's texts to reflect her own agenda," Helga shot back, reddening. "Besides, what do I know of Merlin's spells?"
"Only what you taught Merlin yourself," a voice said. They all swiveled to Dot, in front of a bookshelf, peering at My Life in Magic by Merlin of Camelot.
She held open the first page, eyeing the gnome.
"To Helga and Yuba, my greatest teacher."
"Should be 'teachers,' shouldn't it?" I said, folding my arms.
The den was quiet.
Agatha kneeled down in front of the old gnome. "Surviving Fairy Tales. That's what you teach." She took Helga's wrinkled hand. "And we can't survive ours without you."
Helga's gray pupils glued to the ground, unable to look at her student for a long time. Slowly, her long white hair retracted into her skull, growing scratchy and short. The grooves of her face magically deepened and the skin hardened to a leathery tan beneath a growing white beard. Her cheeks hollowed, her nose fattened, her eyebrows bushied, her body burlying to a barrel shape . . . until at last Yuba the Gnome gazed up at his former students, in the same lavender dress and wobbly heels.
"Do you mind if I change?" he asked quietly.
Sophie gawped at her old Forest Group teacher, morphed from a girl into a boy.
She twirled to Agatha.
"That's how you want us to get into the boys' school? By turning us into. . . gnomes?"
I wanted to bang my head against the wall.
***
We settled on a dusty wool couch with mugs of turnip-root tea, eyes flicking back and forth as Yuba paced the room in his belted green coat and orange cone hat.
"The irony of teaching is we often teach what we can no longer do. Though I have been teaching students for 115 years how to survive in the Endless Woods, I could hardly survive a day outside these gates anymore," the gnome said, no longer straining to disguise his voice. "When the Eviction happened, I needed to remain here safely until the balance was restored. Disguising as Helga was the only way. No one would ever find me out. No one would have a clue."
He glowered at Sophie, Agatha, and I, squished next to each other.
"But given what you've done to the rules of Good and Evil, I'm not surprised you're back to ruin the rules of Boys and Girls."
Sophie leaned to Agatha. "I really don't see how turning into gnomes ruins any—"
Agatha elbowed her and Sophie shut up.
Yuba slurped from his teacup and sat back in his rocking chair. "Gnomes are different from other creatures in the Woods for two reasons," he said. "From your classwork, Hester can surely tell us the first."
"They're always neutral in war," Hester answered confidently.
"Indeed. Gnomes have never once been drawn into a conflict, in over 2,000 years. We've maintained peace between ourselves and others, without exception."
Sophie yawned and started pouring more tea.
"The second reason we're different is less known and won't be found in your books," said Yuba. "Gnomes are born with the ability to change sex."
Sophie missed her cup and poured tea into Hester's lap.
"Temporarily, of course," the gnome continued, ignoring Hester's loud curses. "Boy gnomes can turn into girl gnomes and girls into boys at will until they come of age, when they revert permanently to the sex that they were born."
Now Sophie dropped the whole pot on Hester.
"No wonder Daddy never let us near young gnomes in Sherwood Forest," Dot marveled as Hester beat Sophie with a pillow. "Probably thought they were contagious."
"The sheriff is not alone in his thinking," Yuba sighed. "And yet, these two properties of gnomes were of deep interest to Merlin, the greatest student to ever attend the School for Good and Evil. In his free time, and often in this very cave, he probed and studied gnome biology so relentlessly his ranks suffered. It is why he was ultimately tracked as a Helper to Arthur's father, instead of as a hero of his own tale."
"But why would Merlin care whether gnomes were peaceful or changed sexes?" Agatha asked.
"Because be believed the two linked," said Yuba. "He believed the brief period of playful transformation allowed gnomes to be more sensitive and aware than other creatures. If there was a way for humans to have that experience, even for a moment, you too would be as peace loving as the gnomes. All wars preempted, all notions of Good and Evil dissolved . . . mankind perfected." Yuba paused. "He was such a passionate fellow I couldn't help but believe him."
Now Sophie and Hester were both paying attention.
"So you helped him find a spell?" I asked. "A spell to turn human boys into girls and girls into boys?"
"A highly fleeting spell that would work on any species," said Yuba. "Better to do it under my supervision than attempt such a dangerous spell on his own." The gnome swallowed ruefully. "Long after he left the School for Good and Evil, he'd return to work with me on the formula. Indeed, it is why I still had the recipe, for I often spent free moments fine-tuning and testing it on myself before his next visit. It took us 20 years to perfect the spell—until Arthur used it to attack Lancelot for all the wrong reasons. Sabotage, subterfuge, revenge . . . Instead of Merlin's spell bringing peace, now word spread of a curse that could bring down kingdoms and destroy men for all time." Tears glistened in Yuba's eyes. "Merlin fled just before the armies came for him, but they incinerated the lifetime of work he'd left behind. Without his wife and his beloved adviser, Arthur succumbed to drunkenness and heartbreak. Neither I nor anyone else ever saw Merlin again."
Yuba put down his rattling cup. "Professor Sader later effaced the episode from his histories, afraid of the embarrassment it would cause Arthur's son. But the Dean has no such consideration for a boy."
"Nor do we," Sophie lashed, standing up. "That boy is planning our execution as we speak—"
"And Merlin's spell is our only way into his castle," Agatha insisted.
"So if you'll please hand it over," said Sophie, huffing towards Yuba, "my friend and I can go hom—"
She paused midstride, blinking.
"Aggie, darling? Not to be gauche, but how exactly would Merlin's spell help us? I don't mean to imply that our night has been a complete goose chase or that you've poorly thought this out, but what could we possibly do with some ludicrous spell that turns boys into girls and girls into . . ."
Sophie's eyes suddenly popped.
"Here it comes," I mumbled.
Sophie swiveled to Agatha. "But—but you don't want us to—you weren't talking about—"
"And if you find the Storian . . . ," the gnome said to Agatha, "there will be peace?"
Agatha gave him a sad smile. "A wish started this war, Yuba. Now a wish can end it."
"A BOY?" Sophie screeched, clutching her stomach. "AGGIE, YOU WANT ME TO BE A . . . BOY?"
"It's the only way to wish for each other without Tedros discovering us," Agatha said, finally looking at her.
"But . . . b-b-b-b-boys?"
Yuba cleared his throat behind them. "I'm afraid only one can go."
"What?" Agatha said, spinning—
"I left my notes in Sheeba's classroom, when the butterflies heard me collecting ingredients," said Yuba, hunching over the flowerpot with the hydrangeas. He dug his fist into the dirt and withdrew a small glass vial, shaped like a teardrop, filled with a fluorescing violet brew. "When I returned later, the recipe was gone. I am old and dodgy of memory and cannot reconstruct it, no matter how hard I try. This is my last dose of the potion."
He looked up at us. "Enough for one of you to last three days in the boys' castle."
Agatha whitened. "But how will you teach class—how will you stay at this school—"
"I'm willing to risk my life if it means peace," Yuba replied.
No one said anything for a moment, staring at the smoky potion in his hand.
"I'll go," said Agatha, lurching for the vial.
"No! They'll kill you!" cried Sophie, grabbing her. "We can't be apart now —not after everything—"
"Someone has to bring the pen back—" Agatha said, wresting free.
"Send Hester!" Sophie shrieked, shoving the tattooed witch forward.
"Me?" Hester roared, shoving her back. "Now I'm being dragged into this?"
"Look, this is my idea, so I'll go," Agatha snapped—
"Or Dot!" Sophie said, goosing Dot forward. "She's always trying to be useful—"
"I don't want to be a boy!" Dot screeched, and ran around the sofa while Sophie chased her.
"We'll draw lots!" Sophie gasped, grabbing one of Yuba's notebooks, desperately ripping up pages—
Yuba stayed her hand.
"Lives at stake, two schools at war . . . and you expect to draw lots? No no no," he said, tucking the vial into his coat. "It should be me who goes, of course—but boys will surely suspect a gnome in their midst, given our penchant for peace. And if I can't go, there's only one way to settle this indeed. A proper challenge, just as this school requires. And there's certainly no reason it shouldn't be Hester or Dot who goes, or even Anadil, since you'll no doubt betray everything to her that happened here tonight."
The girls goggled at him.
"Tomorrow we choose our boy," Yuba said, shunting us all out. "Forest Groups exist precisely to winnow those who can survive in the bleakest circumstances versus those destined to fail."
As we scrambled from his kale-crusted burrow and towards the tunnel, Sophie brightened with relief. "See? Hester will get the pen! Hester wins everything—"
"Never making friends with Evers again," Hester boiled, shoving Agatha hard as she tramped into the trees. Agatha watched her trail away.
"I should be the one to go," she said to Sophie. "How can he leave this up to a challenge? It doesn't make any sense—"
Dot butted between them, licking kale off her fingers. "That's 'cause you haven't heard the Five Rules."
***
Humming a cheerful tune, Sophie noticed Agatha still looking glum after last night. "Aggie, it really is the best solution," Sophie whispered to her, once a few butterflies flew over. "Hester will get the pen in no time. We'll write 'The End' before the Dean suspects a thing!"
"But it's Yuba's last dose," worried Agatha. "How will he survive here?"
"Does that really matter if we can prevent a full-blown war?" I asked.
A sea of girls were seated in front of the Blue Brook's bridge, once made of stone, now replaced with rickety planks, suspended by two thick ropes. We gaped in silence at the old gnome standing atop the rope bridge, in a lavender dress and wobbly heels, his face completely obscured by bulbous red blisters, his hair hidden beneath a hideous babushka.
"A highly contagious disease of indeterminate duration, so I encourage you to keep your distance," Yuba huffed in his best Helga voice. "Now, given you may soon need to survive among boys, perhaps it is time to remind us all of the Five Rules." He flashed a loaded look at us as he wrote in the air with his smoking staff:
1. Girls soften. Boys harden.
2. Girls reflect. Boys react.
3. Girls express. Boys suppress.
4. Girls desire. Boys hunt.
5. Girls caution. Boys ignore.
Agatha grimaced. "These are sexist and reductive—"
"Says the girl ignored, suppressed, and hunted by her prince," I replied.
Agatha went quiet.
"As you all know from your history classes last year, Ingertrolls are lady trolls, most often found beneath bridges in Netherwood and Runyon Mills," Yuba declared. "And just for today, beneath our very own."
We all peered under the bridge to see the other female group leaders uncage a bony, blindfolded troll, with saggy skin scaled pink like a salmon's. It sat in a child's squat, tongue lolling idiotically, scratching hairy armpits and swallowing flies.
"Ingertrolls are quite fond of young men and will do anything to separate them from their beloveds," Yuba continued, frowning at Yara as she ambled in and plopped in the front row. "If a couple steps foot on their bridge, an Ingertroll will throw the girl off and let the boy pass unharmed. For today's challenge, then, each of you will try to cross our bridge without being ejected —a feat no Evergirl or Nevergirl has ever managed at this school."
He eyed Hester confidently. "But the truly exceptional student will succeed."
As all the girls lined up at the bridge, I questioned how 120 girls could each take a turn by the time class ended—and got my answer when Yara took her first step and was flung squawking into the trees before she took another.
Girl after girl barely made it past the first plank, hurled left and right by the hopping Ingertroll, smacking her gums and wagging her bottom.
"Use the rules!" Yuba berated, tightening his babushka.
But they were no use either. Dot was pitched into the Periwinkle Pines, Anadil into the Blue Brook, and Hester into the Fernfield before Agatha was thrown off, fastest of all, into the Turquoise Thicket.
When it was my turn, I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. Harden, react, suppress, hunt, ignore. Those are the rules for Boys.
I took a running start, sprinting at the bridge, determined to get this challenge over with—
The rope bridge crashed up and down like a tsunami. I gasped, preparing to be thrown off—
Except I wasn't.
Because the toe of my boot was stuck between the planks.
I held on for dear life as the bridge rocked and jostled and jolted. The planks seemed to be squeezing my shoe tighter, tighter.
The bridge jolted to the side sharply, sending me flying to the side, but my foot was still stuck.
My ankle snapped.
I screamed in agony, my broken bone still being tortured as the bridge waved up and down, each one sending lightning shocks of pain shooting up my leg.
Then I remembered the rules.
Harden. Suppress. Ignore.
I yelled through my teeth one final time before biting down on my knuckle, hard, silencing my wails.
The bridge stopped moving.
I sent a green glow at the planks trapping my foot, sending them exploding into wood shavings and splinters.
Even the thought of putting pressure on my ankle was enough to send me into hysteria, but I swallowed it down.
Harden. Suppress. Ignore.
Slowly, using the ropes on the side, I pulled myself to my feet, staying silent the entirety of the time. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.
I hobbled across the rest of the bridge, the Ingertroll watching me with confused eyes, as if she wasn't sure what to make of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and it felt like I was walking on needles, but I let no cries come out.
When I got to the troll, I lit my finger and sent a green bolt at her, slicing her cheek. She roared and backed away, whimpering, letting me pass.
Finally, I collapsed on the other side of the bridge.
A gold "1" exploded over my head, but I paid no attention, clutching my ankle, panting. The pain felt like it was running up my leg and into my throat, suffocating.
Then Yuba was there, cutting away my boot with a spell, face full of concern. He picked up my ankle to examine it, and a scream forced itself past my lips.
He continued poking and prodding, trying to determine where exactly the break was, all while I was still sobbing in hysteria.
"Stop!" I cried, jolting. "Please—don't touch—"
"If I'm to heal you, I need to first figure out which part of your ankle has been damaged," the gnome said.
I shook my head. "No, I need—"
"Blood."
With bleary eyes, I turned to see Agatha standing there, face ashy gray as she took in my ankle. I hadn't seen it yet. I didn't want to.
"She needs blood," Agatha repeated. "That's how she heals."
Yuba fumbled for words. "Blood—but how—why, that's—"
He cut off when I suddenly flung my glowing finger out, causing a nearby mouse in the grass to squeal in pain as it bled out from my slicing of its throat. Before it even stilled, I willed it toward me. The moment it shot into my hand, bloodying it, I dropped the corpse and pressed my fingertips to my lips.
I grimaced as the salty, metallic taste touched my tongue, but a moment later, the pain shifted from agony to tolerable to not hurting at all. Peering down at my ankle revealed it to be restored to its normal form.
My head thunked back down on the grass as I inhaled deeply, relieved.
That relief didn't last that much longer, however.
Because it was then I realized that I had won the challenge.
Which meant I would be the one taking Yuba's potion.