The School for Good and Evil. Soman Chainani

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      “I put two hats in case one gets squashed, a broomstick in case theirs smells, and a few vials of dog tongues, lizard legs, and frog toes. Who knows how long theirs have been sitting there!”

      Agatha knew the answer but asked anyway. “Mother, what do I need capes, hats, and frog toes for?”

      “For New Witch Welcoming, of course!” Callis trilled. “You don’t want to get to the School for Evil and look like an amateur.”

      Agatha kicked off her clumps. “Let’s put aside the fact the town doctor believes all this. Why is it so hard to accept I’m happy here? I have everything I need. My bed, my cat, and my friend.”

      “Well, you should learn from your friend, dear. At least she wants something from life,” Callis said, latching the trunk. “Really, Agatha, what could be a greater destiny than a Fairy Tale Witch? I dreamed of going to the School for Evil! Instead, the School Master took that idiot Sven, who ended up outwitted by a princess in The Useless Ogre and set on fire. I’m not surprised. That boy could barely lace his own boots. I’m sure if the School Master could have done it over, he’d have taken me.”

      Agatha slid under her covers. “Well, everyone in this town still thinks you’re a witch, so you got your wish after all.”

      Callis whipped around. “My wish is that you get away from here,” she hissed, eyes dark as coal. “This place has made you weak and lazy and afraid. At least I made something of myself here. You just waste and rot until Sophie comes to walk you like a dog.”

      Agatha stared at her, stunned.

      Callis smiled brightly and resumed packing. “But do take care of your friend, dear. The School for Good might seem like a festoon of roses, but she’s in for a surprise. Now go to bed. The School Master will be here soon and it’s easier for him if you’re asleep.”

      Agatha pulled the sheets over her head.

      Sophie couldn’t sleep. Five minutes to midnight and no sign of an intruder. She knelt on her bed and peered through the shutters. Around Gavaldon’s edge, the thousand-person guard waved torches to light up the forest. Sophie scowled. How could he get past them?

      That’s when she noticed the hearts on her windowsill were gone.

      He’s already here!

      Three packed pink bags plopped through the window, followed by two glass-slippered feet.

      Agatha lurched up in bed, jolted from a nightmare. Callis snored loudly across the room, Reaper at her side. Next to Agatha’s bed sat her locked trunk, marked “Agatha of Gavaldon, 1 Graves Hill Road” in scraggy writing, along with a pouch of honey cakes for the journey.

      Chomping cake, Agatha gazed through a cracked window. Down the hill, the torches blazed in a tight circle, but here on Graves Hill, there was just one burly guard left, arms as big as Agatha’s whole body, legs like chicken drumsticks. He kept himself awake by lifting a broken headstone like a barbell.

      Agatha bit into the last honey cake and looked out at the dark forest.

      Shiny blue eyes looked back at her.

      Agatha choked and dove to her bed. She slowly lifted her head. Nothing there. Including the guard.

      Then she found him, unconscious over the broken headstone, torch extinguished.

      Creeping away from him was a bony, hunchbacked human shadow. No body attached.

      The shadow floated across the sea of graves without the slightest sign of hurry. It slid under the cemetery gates and skulked down the hill towards the firelit center of Gavaldon.

      Agatha felt horror strangle her heart. He was real. Whoever he was.

      And he doesn’t want me.

      Relief crashed over her, followed by a fresh wave of panic.

      Sophie.

      She should wake her mother, she should cry for help, she should— No time.

      Feigning sleep, Callis heard Agatha’s urgent footsteps, then the door close. She hugged Reaper tighter to make sure he didn’t wake up.

      Sophie crouched behind a tree, waiting for the School Master to snatch her.

      She waited. And waited. Then she noticed something in the ground.

      Cookie crumbs, mashed into a footprint. The footprint of a clump so odious, so foul it could only belong to one person. Sophie’s fists curled, her blood boiled—

      Hands covered her mouth and a foot booted her through her window. Sophie crashed headfirst onto her bed and whirled around to see Agatha. “You pathetic, interfering worm!” she screamed, before glimpsing the fear in her friend’s face. “You saw him!” Sophie gasped—

      Agatha put one hand over Sophie’s mouth and pinned her to the mattress with the other. As Sophie writhed in protest, Agatha peeped through the window. The crooked shadow drifted into the Gavaldon square, past the oblivious armed guard, and headed directly for Sophie’s house. Agatha swallowed a scream. Sophie wrenched free and grabbed her shoulders.

      “Is he handsome? Like a prince? Or a proper schoolmaster with spectacles and waistcoat and—”

      THUMP!

      Sophie and Agatha slowly turned to the door.

      THUMP! THUMP!

      Sophie wrinkled her nose. “He could just knock, couldn’t he?”

      Locks cracked. Hinges rattled.

      Agatha shrank against the wall, while Sophie folded her hands and fluffed her dress as if expecting a royal visit. “Best give him what he wants without fuss.”

      As the door caved, Agatha leapt off the bed and threw herself against it. Sophie rolled her eyes. “Oh, sit down for goodness’ sake.” Agatha pulled at the knob with all her might, lost her grip—the door slammed open with a deafening crack, hurling her across the room.

      It was Sophie’s father, white as a sheet. “I saw something!” he panted, waving his torch.

      Then Agatha caught the crooked shadow on the wall stepping into his broad silhouette. “There!” she cried. Stefan swiveled but the shadow blew out his torch. Agatha grabbed a match from her pocket and lit it. Stefan lay on the ground unconscious. Sophie was gone.

      Screams outside.

      Through the window, Agatha watched shouting villagers chase after Sophie as the shadow dragged her towards the woods. And while more and more villagers howled and chased—

      Sophie smiled ear to ear.

      Agatha lunged through the window and ran after her. But just as the villagers reached Sophie, their torches magically exploded and trapped them in rings of fire. Agatha dodged the gauntlet of firetraps and dashed to save her friend before the shadow pulled her into the forest.

      Sophie felt her body leave soft grass and rake against stony dirt. She frowned at СКАЧАТЬ