"Never thought I'd have a prince as a best friend," Hort motormouthed, hustling through Evil's sewers.
"Where are we going? Said you were taking me to my room," I said, steeling the nerves out of my voice as it echoed over the red mud roiling through the dank tunnels. I plodded behind him on the thin path in my sleeveless black-and-red leather uniform, bumping bulky shoulders into the wall, still unused to all the extra weight.
"Tried to make 'em bunk us together, but they already put a prince from Ginnyvale in my room," Hort said, peeping back at me. "School's strict now that the teachers are back. If you ask me, Aric and his henchmen make those old wolves look cuddly. But don't worry. I'll keep my best friend outta trouble."
I saw the sewer midpoint in the distance, the division between sludge and lake sealed by giant rocks. "But I still don't understand. Why are we down her—"
"Where is it!" Manley's voice boomed ahead, over the churning red slime.
"I showed you where I buried it," Tedros' voice insisted—
"And it's not there. As long as you keep lying, there'll continue to be no food."
"It's those girls! They're hiding in the castle!"
"Think we wouldn't know if a girl was in our castle?" Manley's voice sneered. "That pen is still somewhere in the School Master's tower, or the tower would have moved to follow it. Now tell me where you hid it, or I'll melt your father's sword and gild the toilets with it—"
"I told you! It was buried under the table!"
My heart stopped.
The Storian . . . missing?
Suddenly, placing first in the day's challenges was even more crucial. If the pen was hidden in that tower, I'd need time to find it.
Stomach churning, I followed behind Hort, skirting the sewer wall as it turned to the rusted grating of a pitch-dark dungeon cell. In the corner, Manley's bald head and bulbous shadow obscured the figure beneath him.
"Please, professor, you have to let me into the Trial," Tedros' voice begged. "I'm the only one who can beat those girls!"
"You'll die of starvation long before the Trial if we don't find that pen," Manley said, turning for the cell door. He saw me gaping at him through the grating.
"Boys don't like a liar, Peter. Tedros promises the boys he'll kiss Agatha. Promises he'll fix the schools to Good and Evil. And what do they get instead? A chance at slavery. Ain't it a wonder all the boys hate him now," Manley sneered, pulling the door open. He shoved me into the cell as he left. "Whole school's on your side today, Peter. Teach this puffed-up cockerel a lesson."
I swiveled. "Wait—"
Hort slammed the cell door. "See you in class, Filip!"
"Hort!"
The weasel was already charging after Manley, chattering with excitement. "He'll beat Tedros so bad today, professor. You'll see. . . ."
I slowly turned to the rotted dungeon lit by a single candle. A chilling collection of torture instruments hung on the walls in steel cages, over two metal bed frames without mattresses or pillows. I couldn't breathe, thinking of what happened here a year ago with the Beast. This place made me Evil. This place made me lose control. I turned away, panicked—
Two bloodshot eyes glowed from the corner.
"Is it true?" said Tedros' voice out of darkness.
"What is?" I breathed, keeping her tone low.
"The worst of us in Trial Tryouts gets punished each night."
"That's what the dog said."
Slowly Tedros rose from shadows. He was at least twenty pounds thinner, his boys' uniform crusted with dirt, his blue eyes inflamed. "Then we ain't gonna be friends, are we?"
I stepped back from the prince skulking towards me, teeth bared. "I'm making that Trial. You hear me, boy?" he sneered, spit flying. "Those girls took everything I have left in this world. My friends, my reputation, my honor—"
He grabbed me by the throat and jammed me against the grating. "I'm not going to let you or anyone else take my chance at fighting them."
Suddenly a shot of unfamiliar anger tore through my blood, searing away the fear. My mind went strangely clear, zeroing in like crosshairs on the boy pinning her . . . the boy who'd once been my friend . . . the boy who'd betrayed our friendship. . . the boy now trying to take our lives.
Alien strength blasted through my new muscles with hormonal rage, and before I knew it, I'd shoved the prince back with a roar.
"Quite the bully, aren't you, for someone who lost his princess to a girl," I snarled, startled by the darkness in my voice.
Tedros loosened his grip, just as stunned, and I seized him by the collar.
"I see why she chose Y/n," I lashed at him. "Y/n gives her sisterhood, loyalty, sacrifice, love. All the powers of Good. What do you have to give her? You're weak, empty, callow, and boring. All you have is your pretty face." I pulled the prince closer until our noses touched. "And now I see what's under it."
Tedros turned beet red. "I see an overgrown elf with puffy hair who knows nothing about me—"
"You know what I see?" My flaming eyes cut into his. "Nothing."
The fight seeped out of Tedros' face. For a moment, he looked like a little boy.
"W-w-who are you?" he stammered.
"Name's Peter to you," I said, ice-cold, and let go of him.
Tedros turned away, catching his breath. I could see his rattled face in the metal bed's reflection and held in a grin. Suddenly I liked being a boy.
Keys jangled outside. The two boys turned to see Aric's hooded henchman pull open the cell door.
"Time for class," he growled.
***
Two hundred boys competing for the day's first rank. Two hundred boys standing between me and the Storian. I galumphed awkwardly to catch up with the herd of fellow uniformed boys, driving towards Evil's classrooms. The odds weren't good.
I wiped sweat from her armpits, irritated by how much my new body perspired. If she'd known boys were insufferably hot all the time, she'd have packed a fan or jug of cold water.
I stumbled on my large feet and knocked into Ravan.
"Walking. It ain't hard," he scowled, shoving past.
I kept my eyes down, hair flopping over them. Nothing in this body seemed to bend . . . like it was a wooden puppet, strings pulled too tight.
I peeked ahead at Aric, chest puffed, swaggering like a stallion, and tried to imitate him as best I could.
I glanced back at Tedros lagging behind the mob, all alone and friendless. Manley said the boys had turned on him for risking their freedom in the Trial's terms . . . but I wondered if there was more to it. Boys loved to tear down the things they built up, whether a sand castle or a prince. And for most of the past two years, Tedros had been the rich, popular, preposterously handsome Ever captain who all the boys wanted to be. Now that Manley was punishing him for the missing Storian, they gleefully indulged in his fall, like a weakened lion left to hyenas.
"Peter! Peter, you forgot your schedule!" Hort shoved in, foisting crumpled parchment on me. "You're with me all day—"
I blew hair out of my eyes and peered down at the paper in front of me.
"They've been prepping the rest of us for Tryouts for weeks with workouts and lectures and reading, so you'll need a little luck," Hort said, with a sly wink. "Especially with the way you bumble around."
I nearly groaned. I still couldn't walk like a boy, and now I'd have to beat a school of them in warrior competition?
Ten minutes later, Professor Espada stood in Evil Hall with his class of forty boys, a long table in front of him, covered with a dark sheet.
"We have informed Dean Sader in the girls' school that the rules of the Trial by Tale will follow tradition," he said, his slicked hair as black as his curled mustache. His thin, self-righteous smile reminded me of the youngest Elder—the one who'd streaked me with my own blood. "Ten girls and ten boys will enter the Blue Forest at sundown. The teams must fend off not only each other, but the teachers' traps as well. Whichever side has the most players still in the Forest at sunrise will be declared the winner. If the boys win, the Readers will be turned over for execution and the schools will remand to Good and Evil. If the girls win, we will surrender our castle to them and become their slaves."
As boys murmured to each other, I felt my broad back slopped with sweat now.
"As is customary, each contestant will be given a flag of surrender," Professor Espada continued. "If you find yourself in mortal danger, drop it to the ground, and you will be rescued unharmed from the Blue Forest. To protect yourselves, each competitor is allowed one weapon for the Trial. Today's challenge will test the one most often used . . ."
He pulled the sheet off a table, revealing a row of different-sized swords and daggers, all of which looked much sharper than the usual training blades.
"In past years, swords were dulled for Trial competition. Given the stakes in this year's Trial, we see no reason to offer the courtesy," Espada said, beady eyes glinting. "A sword rewards quickness and strength, so you must use both to be effective. Aim your sword at a girl's heart, and she will drop her flag of surrender immediately." He held up two kerchiefs, one red, one white. "Now let's see which of you drops yours."
I tensed. Daggers I could do. Daggers I was familiar with. But swords?
Professor Espada called forth pairs of boys, who picked their blades and faced off until one surrendered. With Everboys and the new princes well trained in deft swordplay and the Neverboys well trained in poor sportsmanship, the duels were feisty affairs: Chaddick over Hort with a sword tip to the throat, Ravan over an Avonlea prince with a knee to the groin, Aric over Vex with a simple glare. . . .
"Tedros and Peter. You're next," Espada declared.
I slowly looked up at Tedros glowering, eyes blazing. He hadn't forgotten what I'd said to him in the dungeon.
"PET-ER, PET-ER, PET-ER," chanted the boys raucously, as Espada handed us the flags. "Pick your weapons."
I grabbed twin daggers and whirled to Tedros, but immediately noticed the mistake. Tedros held up his enormous sword, teeth gnashed, nostrils flaring.
"Ready . . . and . . . go!" Espada barked—
"AAAAHHHHH!" Tedros bellowed, charging for me like a bull.
I bounced on the balls of my feet, but I wasn't as quick or light as I used to be. This new body was uncomfortable, like a shirt that didn't fit quite right.
Still, I had a job to do.
Win the challenge.
I tensed, muscles coiled, about to spring. Tedros thundered towards me, blade raised—
Tedros tripped and landed splat at my feet.
I gaped down at him, then lifted my eyes to Hort grinning proudly, boot in Tedros' path. Tedros tried to grab his sword, but Chaddick kicked it away. The prince staggered up and Ravan shot a shock spell at him, knocking him down. As Tedros yelped in pain, I saw Hort waving and pointing at Tedros' kerchief. I calmly kneeled, pulled it out of the prince's pocket, and dropped it to the floor.
"Peter wins!" Espada decreed, and the boys erupted in roars.
"But—but that's unfair—" Tedros cried—
"A clever boy makes allies," Espada said, smirking back.
A "20" burst in black smoke over Tedros' head.
I looked up at the crowning gold "1" over mine.
By the time the sun set, classes complete on the first day, I trekked back to the Doom Room, the top-ranked boy in the school.
I hadn't won a single challenge on merit; the entire school had conspired to help Peter beat Tedros again and again—tainting the prince's meerworms in Survival, scaring away his two Wish Fish in Defense Against Girls, refusing to partner with him in Fraternity, and sneaking a spider into his pants before the Forest Fitness test.
As for the teachers, they turned blind eyes like Espada, intent on teaching Tedros a lesson for stealing the Storian in the first place. Indeed, Manley was so delighted that he publicly bestowed me with a key to the dungeon room, so I could come and go as he pleased—a privilege denied to the "runt."
My thick brows knit together. Yes, I was glad that I was top-ranked. I needed to be, if we wanted any chance at all for getting home. But. . . none of this was fair to Tedros. What happened to chivalry? What happened to honor? Wasn't that what princes were all about?
I unlocked the cell and entered, ruddy and freshly showered, belly full from a bean stew and stuffed goose supper. Soon I would be heading to the School Master's tower for guard duty.
I was slowly growing into the boy's body. The walk was settling in, the voice growing more natural, the extra weight suddenly feeling strong and inspiring. . . . I was even getting used to the new face.
"You cheated."
I turned to Tedros, sitting alone in the dank, dirty corner.
"I don't care that I have to be punished or that I can't eat supper or that everyone hates me," the prince said, staring. "I care that you cheated."
I pulled the door open to leave, not wanting to hear it.
"You're no better than Agatha."
I stopped cold.
"I loved her so much," he mumbled, almost to himself. "I tried to make her wish come true. I tried to fix the story like a prince is supposed to. Kill the villain, kiss his princess. That's how fairy tales work. That's what she asked for." His voice broke. "But I would have let Y/n live if it meant having Agatha forever. I would have kissed her right there and we would have had The End. But then she cheated. Agatha cheated. She had Y/n under the table the whole time . . . and she lied to me."
I turned to see Tedros hunched over, head buried between his knees. "How could anyone be so Evil?" he rasped.
Watching him, my face slowly softened.
A shadow washed over the prince.
Tedros lifted his eyes to Aric, smirking in the open doorway. "Special occasion," the captain said, cracking his knuckles. "Think I'll do the punishing myself."
Aric's eyes flicked to me. "Get out."
My heart chilled as I backed through the grated door. . .
Tedros turned away, like a dog offering his neck.
That was it.
Tedros had been an arse. He'd somehow lost the Storian, our only way of getting home. He called me a villain. He betrayed our friendship like it was nothing. He wanted me dead. He wanted Agatha dead.
But even he didn't deserve this.
"No."
Aric whirled. "What did you say?"
"No," I repeated firmly, coming to stand between the sadist and the prince. "I'm top-ranked. I should be the one dealing with him."
Aric's surprise dwindled until a smirk crept across his face. "Look at that. Newest boy here thinks he can already make demands."
I folded my arms.
Aric raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have guard duty?"
I cocked my head. "I'd say that can wait a few minutes, wouldn't you? Can't forgo the runt's punishment."
Aric surveyed me, looking up and down, before letting out a small amused hm.
Then he swiveled and exited, slamming the grates shut behind him.
I exhaled and placed a palm to my forehead as soon as he was gone. "God."
"Just get it over with," Tedros pleaded from behind.
I rolled my eyes and crossed the room in two steps, yanking him to his feet by his bicep. "I'm not going to hurt you, idiot."
Tedros' brow knit in confusion. "What? Why?"
"Because even you don't deserve this every night?"
"Oh, so every other night is okay?" Tedros deadpanned.
"'Course," I replied, turning to the door.
Tedros' weak chuckle followed me as I exited the room.
I'd forgotten how much I missed that sound.