The School for Good and Evil 2 book collection: The School for Good and Evil. Soman Chainani

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Agatha stared at it, stupefied. “But—”

      A green-haired nymph thrust her a basket of books, some peeking out:

      The Privilege of Beauty

      Winning Your Prince

      The Recipe Book for Good Looks

      Princess with a Purpose

      Animal Speech 1: Barks, Neighs, & Chirps

      Then a blue-haired nymph held up her uniform: an appallingly short pink pinafore, sleeves poofed with carnations, worn over a white lace blouse that seemed to be missing three buttons.

      Stunned, Agatha looked at future princesses around her, tightening their pink dresses. She looked at books that told her beauty was a privilege, that she could win a chiseled prince, that she could talk to birds. She looked at a schedule meant for someone beautiful, graceful, and kind. Then she looked up at a handsome teacher, still smiling at her, as if expecting the greatest things from Agatha of Gavaldon.

      Agatha did the only thing she knew how to do when faced with expectations.

      Up the blue Honor staircase, through sea-green halls, she ran, fairies jangling furiously behind. Hurtling through halls, scrambling up stairs, she had no time to take in what she was seeing—floors made of jade, classrooms made of candy, a library made of gold—until she reached the last staircase and surged through a frosted glass door onto the tower roof. In front of her, the sun lit up a breathtaking open-air topiary of sculptured hedges. Before Agatha could even see what the sculptures were of, fairies smashed through the door, shooting sticky golden webs from their mouths to catch her. She dove to elude them, crawling like a bug through the colossal hedges. Finding her feet, she sprinted and leapt onto the tallest sculpture of a muscular prince raising a sword high above a pond. She scaled the leafy sword to its prickling tip, kicking away swarming fairies. But soon there were too many and just as they spat their glittering nets, Agatha lost her grip and crashed into the water.

      When she opened her eyes, she was completely dry.

      The pond must have been a portal, because she was outside now in a crystal blue archway. Agatha looked up and froze. She was at the end of a narrow stone bridge that stretched through thick fog into the rotted tower across the lake. A bridge between the two schools.

      Tears stung her eyes. Sophie! She could save Sophie!

      “Agatha!”

      Agatha squinted and saw Sophie running out of the fog. “Sophie!”

      Arms outstretched, the two girls dashed across the bridge, crying each other’s name—

      They slammed into an invisible barrier and ricocheted to the ground.

      Dazed by pain, Agatha watched in horror as wolves dragged Sophie by the hair back to Evil.

      “You don’t understand,” Sophie screamed, watching fairies snare Agatha. “It’s all a mistake!”

      “There are no mistakes,” a wolf growled.

      They could speak after all.

      ophie wasn’t sure why six wolves needed to punish her instead of one, but she assumed it was to make a point. They bound her to a spit, stuffed an apple in her mouth, and paraded her like a banquet pig through the six floors of Malice Hall. Lining the walls, new students pointed and laughed, but laughs turned to frowns when they realized this freak in pink would be one of their bunk mates. The wolves towed whimpering Sophie past Rooms 63, 64, 65, then kicked open Room 66 and flung her in. Sophie skidded until her face smacked into a warted foot.