happened!” Sophie twirled. “What’s it mean?”
Castor looked petrified. “It means she’d rather give up her power than help you.”
A “1” exploded in red flames over Sophie’s head like a diabolical crown.
“It’s the most evil thing I’ve ever seen,” Castor said softly.
Stunned, Sophie watched her classmates huddle like scared minnows—all except Hester, eyes blazing, as if she’d just found her competition. Behind her, Beezle shivered deep in a dark corner.
“Grand Witch!” he squeaked.
“No no no!” Sophie cried. “Not Grand Witch!”
But Beezle nodded with certainty. “Grand High Witch Ultimate!”
Sophie whipped back to the Goose. What did I do!
But the Goose, gray as fog, looked at her as if it had never seen her in its life and let out the most ordinary of squawks.
From the Belfry the squawk echoed across the moat, into the soaring silver tower that split the two sides of the bay. A silhouette appeared at the window and gazed down at his domain.
Dozens of smoky rank numbers—brightly colored ones from Good, dark and gloomy ones from Evil—drifted from the two schools over the waters and wafted up to his window like balloons in the wind. As each one passed, his fingers ran through the smoke, which gave him the power to see whose rank it was and how they had earned it. He sifted through dozens of numbers until he came to the one he sought: a red-flame “1” that revealed its history in a flood of images.
A Golden Goose throwing away its power for a student? Only one could have such talent. Only one could be so pure.
The one who would tip the balance.
With a chill, the School Master went back into his tower and awaited her arrival.
Curses & Death Traps took place in a bone-numbing frost chamber, with the walls, desks, and chairs made completely of ice. Sophie thought she could see bodies buried deep beneath the frozen floor.
“Itttt’s colllddd,” Hort chattered.
“It’s warmer in the Doom Room,” Lady Lesso replied.
Howls of pain echoed from the dungeon beneath their feet.
“I-I-I feeeel warm-m-er noww,” Hort stuttered, face blue.
“Cold will harden your veins,” said Lady Lesso. “Which need hardening if a Reader is placing first in challenges.” She slunk between rows of shivering students, black braid snapping against her sharp-shouldered purple gown, dagger steel heels cracking on ice.
“This is not a school for unwarranted cruelty. Hurt without reason and you are a beast, not a villain. No, our mission requires focus and care. In this class, you will learn to find the Ever who stands in the way of your goal. The one who will grow stronger as you grow weaker. They’re out there, my Nevers, somewhere in the Woods … your Nemesis. When the time is right, you will find and destroy them. That is your path to freedom.”
A scream echoed from the Doom Room and Lady Lesso smiled. “Your other classes may be pageants of ineptitude, but not here. There will be no challenges until I see you are worthy.”
Sophie hadn’t heard any of this. All she could hear was the Goose’s squawk banging around in her head. Convulsing with cold, she fought back tears. She had tried everything to get to Good: fleeing, fighting, pleading, switching, wishing … What else was left? She pictured Agatha, sitting in her classes, her seat, her school, and flushed hot red. And she thought they were friends!
“A Nemesis is your archenemy,” said Lady Lesso, purple eyes flashing. “Your other half. Your soul’s inverse. Your Achilles’ heel.”
Sophie forced herself to pay attention. After all here was a chance to learn enemy secrets. It might save her once she made it to Good.
“You will come to know your Nemesis through dreams,” Lady Lesso went on, veins pulsing under tight skin. “A Nemesis will haunt your sleep, night after night until you see nothing but his or her face. Nemesis Dreams will chill your heart and boil your blood. They will make you gnash your teeth and rip out your hair. For they are the sum of your hate. The sum of your fears.”
Lady Lesso dragged her long red nails across Hort’s desk. “Only when your Nemesis is dead will you feel quenched. Only when your Nemesis is dead will you feel free. Kill your Nemesis and Nevermore will welcome you to eternal glory!”
The class tittered with excitement.
“Of course, given our school’s history, those gates won’t open anytime soon,” she muttered.
“How do we find our Nemesis?” asked Dot.
“Who chooses them?” asked Hester.
“Will they be from our class?” Ravan asked.
“These questions are premature. Only exceptional villains are blessed with Nemesis Dreams,” Lady Lesso said. “No, first you should be asking why stuck-up, stupid, insipid Good wins every competition in this school—and how you’re going to change that.” She leered at Sophie, as if to say, whether she liked it or not, the pink-loving Reader might be their best hope.
As soon as the wolves’ howls signaled class was over, Sophie darted from the ice room, up twisting stairs, until she found a small balcony off a hall. In the privacy of fog, she leaned against the damp walls of the Evil tower and finally let herself cry. She didn’t care if it ruined her makeup or if anyone saw. She had never felt so alone or scared. She hated this horrible place and couldn’t take any more.
Sophie gazed at the School for Good, glass towers glinting across the bay. For the first time, it seemed out of reach.
Lunch!
Tedros would be there! Her shining prince, her last hope! Isn’t that what princes were for after all? To rescue princesses when all seemed lost?
Heart swelling, she wiped her tears. Just make it to lunch.
As she sprinted to Evil Hall for History of Villainy, Sophie noticed scores of buzzing Nevers crowded outside. Dot saw her and grabbed her arm. “They canceled classes! No one’s saying why.”
“Lunch will be sent to your rooms!” boomed the white wolf, as fellow wolves cracked whips and drove students to their towers.
Sophie’s heart deflated. “But what happ—”
She suddenly smelled smoke, creeping into the hall from every direction. Sophie slid between the shoving mob to a stone window, where a group of students stared in stunned silence. She followed their eyes across the bay.
A Good tower was on fire.
Dot gasped. “Who could have possibly done something so …”
“Brilliant,” Hester said, awestruck.
Well, Agatha had the answer to that.
