“So either she dies or destroys this school,” Manley groused and spat on the floor.
“Clarissa, this is an easy decision,” said Lady Lesso.
“But there’s no precedent for removing a qualified student from a Trial!” Professor Dovey protested.
“Qualified! She flunked every challenge this week!” said Manley. “The boy has convinced her she’s Good!”
“Perhaps she’s just feeling the pressure of the Trial,” offered Princess Uma, feeding a quail on her shoulder—
“Or she duped us all into thinking she was Evil’s great hope!” Professor Sheeks said. “She should have failed before the Trial!”
“Then why didn’t she?” Professor Anemone asked.
“Every time we tried to fail her, another student got last place instead,” Manley said. “Someone stopped her from failing!”
Evil teachers clamored in furious agreement.
“Makes perfect sense,” Professor Dovey said over them. “Some mysterious busybody, who no one has ever seen, flits through your tower, meddling with your ranks.”
“You describe the School Master quite well, Clarissa,” said Lady Lesso.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lady Lesso. Why would the School Master interfere with a student’s ranks?”
“Because he’d love nothing better than to see Evil’s ‘best’ student win behind Good’s shield,” Lady Lesso hissed, violet eyes strobing. “A student who even I foolishly thought had hope. But if Sophie wins with that pathetic prince, I will not stand by, Clarissa. I will not allow the School Master, nor you and your arrogant beasts, to destroy my life’s work. Hear me now. Let Sophie compete in that Trial and you are risking more than just her life. You are risking war.”
The room went dead silent.
Professor Dovey cleared her throat. “Perhaps she can compete next year—”
Sophie slumped in relief.
“You cave to Evil!” Professor Espada cried.
“Only to protect the girl—” Dovey said weakly—
“But the Everboy will still love her!” Anemone warned.
“A week in the Doom Room will fix that,” said Lady Lesso.
“Still can’t find the Beast,” said Sheeba—
“Then get a new one!” Lady Lesso snarled.
“How about a vote?” chirped Uma.
“VOTES ARE FOR SISSIES!” Castor roared, and teachers burst into a rumpus. Uma’s quail poop-bombed the Evil teachers, Castor tried to eat the bird, and Pollux managed to lose his head again, before someone whistled with loud authority. Everyone turned to the man standing in the corner of the burned room.
“This school has one mission and one mission only,” said Professor Sader. “To protect the balance between Good and Evil. If Sophie’s participation in the Trial disturbs this balance, then she must be disqualified immediately. Luckily for us, the proof of this balance is in front of your eyes.”
Everyone’s gaze shifted. Sophie tried to see what they were looking at, then realized they were all looking in different directions.
“Are we in agreement the balance is intact?” said Professor Sader.
No one argued.
“Then Sophie will compete in the Trial by Tale and we have nothing more to discuss.”
Sophie swallowed a scream.
“Always so sensible, August,” said Lady Lesso, standing up. “Thankfully, the girl’s failures have ensured she will spend most of the Trial without the boy protecting her. Let us hope that she dies so brutally no one would dare repeat her mistakes. Only then will her story have the ending it deserves. Perhaps one even fit for a painting.”
She swept from the room and the Evil teachers followed her.
As the Good faculty filed out, muttering to each other in pairs, Professor Dovey and Professor Sader emerged last. They walked in silence, her high-necked chartreuse gown rustling against his shamrock-green suit.
“What if she dies, August?” Clarissa asked.
“What if she lives?” said Sader.
Clarissa stopped. “You still believe it’s true?”
“I do. As do I believe it true the Storian started her fairy tale.”
“But it’s impossible—it’s lunacy—it’s—” Clarissa flushed with horror. “This is why you intervened?”
“On the contrary, I haven’t intervened,” Sader said. “Our duty is to let the story take its course—”
“No! What have you—” Professor Dovey’s hand flew to her mouth—“This is why you send a girl to risk her life? Because you believe your spurious prophecy?”
“There is far more at stake here than one girl’s life, Clarissa.”
“She’s just a girl! An innocent girl!” Professor Dovey gasped, welling furious tears. “Her blood is on your hands!”
As she fled, sniffles echoing down the stairs, Professor Sader’s hazel eyes clouded with doubt.
He couldn’t see Sophie crouched next to him, trying to stop herself from shivering.
Awash in the Clearing’s crinkly leaves, Kiko wrapped her shawl tighter and licked her spiced corn cob.
“So I asked every girl if they’d say yes to Tristan and they all said no! So that means he has to ask me! He could go alone, of course, but if a boy goes alone to the Ball, he only gets half ranks and Tristan likes using the Groom Room so he’ll definitely ask me. Well, Tristan could ask you, but you told him to marry Tedros, so I don’t think he likes you. I can’t believe you said that. As if princes could marry each other. Then what would we do?”
Agatha chomped on her cob to drown her out. Across the Clearing, she saw Sophie and Tedros arguing ferociously in the mouth of the tree tunnel. It looked like Sophie was trying to apologize and embrace him—kiss him, even—but Tedros shoved her away.
“Are you listening to me?”
Agatha turned. “Wait. So if a girl doesn’t get asked to the Ball, then she fails and suffers a punishment worse than death. But if a boy doesn’t go to the Ball, he gets half ranks? How is that fair!”
“Because it’s the truth,” Kiko said. “A boy can choose to be alone if he wants. But if a girl ends up alone … she might as well be dead.”
Agatha swallowed. “That’s ridiculous—”
Something dropped in her basket.
Agatha glanced up to see Sophie meet her eyes as Tedros dragged her into the Evers line.
As Kiko jabbered on, Agatha pulled a luscious pink rose bloom from her basket, then saw it was made of parchment. With the deftest care, she undid the flower in the lap of her dress.
The note only had three words.
I need you.