The School for Good and Evil #2: A World without Princes (27 page)

“Do you mind if I change?” he asked quietly.

Sophie gawped at her old Forest Groups teacher, morphed from a girl into a boy. She twirled to Agatha, appalled.

“That's how you want us to get in the boys' school? By turning us into . . .
gnomes
?”

Agatha banged her head against the wall.

On a dusty wool couch, Agatha, Sophie, Hester, and Dot held 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 and Agatha, 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 a 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?” Agatha 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,” Dot 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? Two . . .
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 the two girls. “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.

Neither Sophie nor Agatha 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
straws
? 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 them all out. “Forest Groups exist precisely to winnow those who can survive in the bleakest circumstances versus those destined to fail.”

As the girls 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 grumbled, shoving Agatha hard as she tramped into the trees.

Agatha watched her trail away, stiffening with guilt. “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.”

“I say we fail on purpose,” Anadil harrumphed.

“And end up a newt during tracking? No thank you,” Hester grumped, the two witches in black traipsing behind Sophie, Agatha, and blue-uniformed girls flooding through the gates for Forest Groups. “What I don't understand is how you or I bring the Storian
back
. The School Master's tower follows wherever the pen goes. If we steal it, the tower will chase us—”

“Suppose
I
win?” Dot fretted, catching up. “I beat everyone in the poisoned apple-making tryout this morning!”

“That's because it involved food,” Anadil muttered.

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!”

Despite her unease over dragging the witches into this, Agatha knew Sophie had a point. If there was one person who could be trusted to accomplish a mission quickly, it was Hester.

“But it's Yuba's last dose,” worried Agatha. “How will he survive here?”

“Think he'll be just fine,” Sophie snorted.

Agatha followed her eyes to the sea of girls, seated in front of the Blue Brook's bridge, once made of stone, now replaced with rickety planks, suspended by two thick ropes. The girls 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 Agatha, Sophie, and the witches 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,” Sophie 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.”

The girls 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. “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, Agatha questioned how 120 girls could each take a turn by the time class ended—and got her answer when Kiko took her first step and was flung squealing 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.

“At least you got to the second plank,” Agatha sighed to Hester, picking thorns out of her backside. “Looks like it's you after all.”

“EYYYIIIIIIII!”

They glanced up to see Sophie screeching and holding on for dear life to the rope bridge like a bull rider, while the Ingertroll tried to fling her off. Sophie would have happily allowed this, except for a minor problem.

“MY SHOEEEEEEE!” she bellowed, tugging frantically at her glass heel, trapped in a plank. “IT'S S-S-T-T-UCCCCCKKK—”

“And you say she's
changed
?” Hester frowned.

“The old Sophie would have stopped Tedros from kissing me,” said Agatha, wincing as Sophie unleashed a torrent of rather unfeminine words.

“And you believe her? That someone
else
caused her symptoms? That she's Good now?”