The School for Good and Evil. Soman Chainani

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      “I told you we’d get her,” said a sour voice.

      Still tied to the spit, Sophie looked up at a tall girl with greasy black hair streaked red, black lipstick, a ring in her nose, and a terrifying tattoo of a buck-horned, red-skulled demon around her neck. The girl glared at Sophie, black eyes flinting.

      “She even smells like an Ever.”

      “The fairies will retrieve it soon enough,” said a voice across the room.

      Sophie swung her head to an albino girl with deathly white hair, white skin, and hooded red eyes, feeding stew from a cauldron to three black rats. “Pity. We could slit its throat and hang it as a hall ornament.”

      “How rude,” said a third. Sophie turned to a smiley brown-haired girl on the bed, round as a hot air balloon, chocolate ice pop in each stumpy fist. “Besides, it’s against the rules to kill other students.”

      “How about we just maim her a bit?” said the albino.

      “I think she’s refreshing,” said the plump one, biting into the ice pop. “Not every villain has to smell and look depressed.”

      “She’s not a villain,” the albino and the tattooed girl snapped in unison.

      As she wriggled from her ropes, Sophie craned her neck up and had her first full view of the room. Once upon a time it might have been a nice, cozy suite before someone set it on fire. The brick walls were burnt to cinders. Black and brown scorch marks ripped across the ceiling, and the floor was buried beneath an inch of ash. Even the furniture looked toasted. But as her eyes searched, Sophie realized there was an even bigger problem with the room.

      “Where’s the mirror?” she gasped.

      “Let me guess,” the tattooed girl snorted. “It’s Bella or Ariel or Anastasia.”

      “It looks more like a Buttercup or Sugarplum,” said the albino.

      “Or a Clarabelle or Rose Red or Willow-by-the-Sea.”

      “Sophie.” Sophie stood in a cloud of soot. “My name is Sophie. I’m not a ‘villain,’ I’m not an ‘it,’ and yes, I clearly don’t belong here, so—”

      The albino and the tattooed girl were doubled over laughing. “Sophie!” the second cackled. “It’s worse than anyone could have imagined!”

      “Anything named Sophie doesn’t belong here,” the albino wheezed. “It belongs in a cage.”

      “I belong in the other tower,” said Sophie, trying to stay above their cattiness, “which is why I need to see the School Master.”

      “‘I need to see the School Master,’” the albino mimicked. “How about you jump out the window and see if he catches you?”

      “You all have no manners,” snarfled the round girl, mouth full. “I’m Dot. This is Hester,” she said, pointing at the tattooed girl. “And this ray of sunshine,” she said, pointing at the albino, “is Anadil.” Anadil spat on the floor.

      “Welcome to Room 66,” said Dot, and with a swish of her hand swept the ashes off the unclaimed bed.

      Sophie winced at moth-eaten sheets with ominous stains. “Appreciate the welcome, but I really should be going,” she said, backing against the door. “Might you direct me to the School Master’s office?”

      “Princes must be so confused when they see you,” said Dot. “Most villains don’t look like princesses.”

      “She’s not a villain,” Anadil and Hester groaned.

      “Do I have to make an appointment to see him?” pressed Sophie. “Or do I send him a note or—”

      “You could fly, I suppose,” Dot said, pulling two chocolate eggs from her pocket. “But the stymphs might eat you.”

      “Stymphs?” asked Sophie.

      “Those birds that dropped us off, love,” garbled Dot as she chewed. “You’d have to get past them. And you know how they hate villains.”

      “For the last time,” shot Sophie, “I’m not a vill—”

      Sounds rang in the stairwell. Sugary jingling, so СКАЧАТЬ