Fire Princess

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“She’s turning into a witch! She’s turning and she doesn’t know it!” Agatha choked, rushing with Dot and Phoenix into the Charity breezeway.

“Oh, she knows,” Dot snapped. “She’s just playing innocent. Why do you think she’s wearing that stupid shawl!”

“We have to tell Lady Lesso—she’ll know what to do—”

“No! You saw what happened with Professor Dovey. We can’t put the teachers in danger!” Phoenix cried. “Though I’ll happily get Pollux thrown out.”

“Sophie was Good at home!” Agatha cried. “She was happy—”

“You want to see her happy? Wait until she does to you what she did to that pigeon!”

Thankfully, Agatha wouldn’t see Sophie the rest of the afternoon. With challenges complete for the day, their classes diverged until Forest Groups, so while Sophie had Female Talents with Anadil and Hester, Agatha hurried to History of Heroines with Dot and Phoenix. She had to be relieved Phoenix was in all the same classes.

“You can’t be alone with her again!” Dot said as they neared the mass of girls filing into Good Hall. “Hide in Hester’s room after classes!”

Agatha stopped against a sapphire column, gulping for air. “This is all because of my wish.”

“No, this is all because you chose the wrong ending last time.”

Agatha looked up at Dot’s reflection in the polished glass. Phoenix looked grim.

“You heard Hester. Tonight’s your last chance to do what your heart really wants,” Dot said. “Or Sophie will be a witch forever.”

Agatha’s throat tightened, afraid to let the words out. “And if . . . if I kiss him?”

“She’ll go home to her father safe, like you promised. The witch locked inside.” Phoenix said softly.

Agatha said nothing for a moment. Finally, she turned. “How do I escape guard duty tonight? The other girl will tell the Dean—”

“Will she?” Dot took her arm. “Just ’cause I’m popular and wear glitter doesn’t mean I’m a better student.”

“We’re on guard . . . together?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been failing every challenge worse than you. And I’ve been trying!”

Agatha looked at her and Phoenix, scared. “But even if I do escape . . . what if I can’t get into the boys’ castle—”

“You will.”

Good Hall had the same briny smell and humid haze as last year, its marble ballroom swathed in emerald algae and blue rust, like a cathedral that had been sunken in seawater. Chipped marble murals on the wall depicted the history of the Great War, ending in the triumph of the Evil School Master over his own Good brother. As Agatha sat down in the pews, she found it odd that the Dean hadn’t changed the murals to reflect either the School Master’s death or the Boy Eviction. Surely she’d want history revised in her own image?

Odder still, though History was the Dean’s class to teach, she failed to appear at all, leaving Pollux fumbling before half the school.

“Our Dean had urgent business, so I offered to present a comprehensive review of Male Brutality through the ages, with pointed emphasis on the persecution of those who do not display conventionally masculine traits.”

He pursed his lips. “But the Dean preferred you each introduce your lineage instead.”

Hester’s mother was the now-deceased witch who tried to kill Hansel and Gretel, while Anadil’s grandmother was the notorious White Witch, who wore little boys’ bones. Phoenix also learned Beatrix’s grandmother was the maiden who outwitted Rumpelstiltskin, Millicent was the great-granddaughter of Sleeping Beauty and her prince, and Kiko was the child of one of Neverland’s Lost Boys and a mermaid. Phoenix went on with pride as she told her classmates about her mother, Rapunzel, and King Flint.