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The School for Good and Evil: The Complete 6-book Collection
“Everyone shut up.”
The room silenced. The Evers turned to Tedros, still seated.
“Agatha’s right. We can’t have the Ball now.”
His classmates slumped, nodding. Agatha exhaled.
“First we find the witch and kill her,” Tedros snarled.
Agatha’s fists balled up as Evers exploded in cheers—“Kill the witch! Kill the witch!”
“You think she’s just waiting for us?” Agatha shouted, leaping atop her chair. “You think you can stroll into Evil and kill a real witch?”
The chants ceased.
“What do you mean ‘real’ witch?” Beatrix glared up at her.
Kiko paled with understanding. “The Storian really is writing your fairy tale, isn’t it?”
Agatha nodded and the room burst into nervous titters.
“We don’t know who controls these fairy tales,” she said over them. “We don’t know if the School Master is Good or Evil. We don’t even know if the Woods are still balanced. All we know is Sophie wants me dead and will kill anyone in her way. So I say we go back to Valor and wait.”
Everyone’s eyes shifted to Tedros, frowning up at her.
“Well, I’m Captain of this school,” he retorted, “and I say we attack.”
Eyes shifted between him and his princess.
“Tedros, do you trust me?” Agatha said softly, looking down at him.
The silence thickened as her question hung in the air, Tedros hot beneath her gaze.
The prince broke eye contact and looked away. “Back to Valor,” he mumbled.
As Evers obeyed his orders and sullenly cleared their plates, Agatha touched his shoulder. “You did the right thi—”
“I’m going to take a bath,” he lashed. “Want to look nice for our night hiding like girls!”
Agatha let him storm ahead. As Tedros stomped out of the hall, Beatrix met him at the door. “Let’s sneak into Evil, Teddy! We’ll kill the witch together!”
“Do as you’re told,” Tedros seethed, and shoved past her.
Beatrix watched him go, cheeks coloring with blood.
A few minutes later, as the Evers moped back into their Valor prison, she slipped through the breezeways to her room, where a starving white bunny waited for her, hopping up and down.
“You’ll get your supper, Teddy,” she said, scooping him up. “But first you have to earn it.”
Hester woke to the castle in darkness and the Belfry tolling eight. Flat on her face in drool, she pried away a Curse Reversal book stuck to her cheek and glanced at Dot and Anadil, slouched on each other behind furniture barring their room. With a start, Hester bolted up and looked over them.
The door to Room 66 hadn’t been disturbed.
Hester exhaled with relief—then choked.
Something was moving at the end of the hall.
She climbed through the mess of furniture and tiptoed towards the stairwell. As she got closer, she saw three hunched figures sneaking down the steps. A minute later, two more slipped down quietly.
Hester waited behind the banister until she saw more shadows. She sparked the stairway torch—
Mona, Arachne, Vex, and Brone goggled back at her.
“Why aren’t you in your rooms!” Hester yelled.
“We’re coming to help you!” Mona said.
“We want to fight back!” said Vex.
“What? What are you—”
Then Hester saw what was in their hands.
Anadil was dreaming of sewers and Dot of beans when both felt jabs in the stomach.
“Look!” Hester held up a black card, glittered green and inked with ghostly white script.
Now Good comes to kill us all
Because we’ve ruined their beautiful Ball
But, dear Nevers, we’ll have our revenge
Arrive at 8 p.m. in Evil Hall
“It’s a cute poem. Though hardly worth waking us for,” grogged Dot. “What’s this revenge?”
“There is no revenge!” Hester shouted.
“Then why did you write it?” Anadil said.
“I didn’t, you idiots!”
Both girls looked at her. Instantly they scrambled for the stairs.
“How did she get out?” Anadil hollered, jumping two steps at a time.
“She did it before she came!” Hester yelled back as the clock tolled half past eight.
“She’s so good at pranks.” Dot tripped down the stairs. “What do you think her revenge will be?”
“More ravens?” Anadil said.
“Poison clouds?” Hester said.
“Firebombs placed under both schools to go off at exactly the same time?” said Dot.
Hester whitened. “Suppose they’re all dead!”
They sprinted through the stair room, past the Supper Hall, past the Exhibition of Evil, to the cobwebbed, skull-carved doors at the far end of the school. Flinging the black invitation away, Hester hurled them open and three girls charged into Evil Hall, prepared for carnage—
Dot took one look and fainted. The other two couldn’t breathe.
“This is the revenge?” Hester said, tears welling.
Outside the hall, Teddy the bunny scampered from behind the stairs to the card that Hester dropped. He picked it up between his buckteeth, careful not to smudge the glitter. Then thinking of pears and plums and other delights, he hopped back to find his mistress.
Slumped against the wall in the Valor Common Room, Agatha tried to keep her eyes open, but they drooped heavier and heavier until she toppled back and arms caught her. She squinted at Tedros as he kneeled in his undershirt, ruddy and wet from his bath.
“Sleep,” he said. “I’m here now.”
“I know you’re upset with me—”
“Shhh,” he said, clasping her tighter. “No more arguing.”
With a guilty smile, Agatha surrendered to his strong arms and closed her eyes.
The common room doors slammed open.“Teddy!”
Beatrix burst in, waking the Evers. Tedros looked up, irritated.
“They’re coming!” Beatrix cried and thrust him the black card as Agatha sat up in his arms. “They’re coming to kill us!”
Tedros read the ghostly white script, veins tensing in his neck. “I knew it!” Agatha tried to see over his shoulder, but he lunged to his feet—
“ATTENTION!”
Evers sat up at once.
“At this very moment, the villains are planning revenge on our school,” Tedros proclaimed to cries. “All the Nevers are now in league with Sophie. Our only hope is to attack the School for Evil before they come for us. We charge at nine o’clock!”
Agatha stood in shock.
“Prepare for war!” Tedros roared, throwing open the doors.
“War!” Chaddick bellowed, herding Evers after him. “Prepare for war!”
Dazed, Agatha picked up the fallen card. As she read it, her eyes flashed—
“No! Don’t attack!”
She ran out of the common room—a foot thrust into her path. Agatha smashed into the wall and blacked out.
“Oops,” Beatrix said, and sashayed after the others.
Agatha’s eyes fluttered open to a searing headache and a deserted hall.
Grunting with pain, she followed the shoeprints through a breezeway into Honor Tower, then down to Hansel’s Haven before she heard ominous sounds of sword on stone.
She peeked into the room of sparkly rock sugar to see Everboys sharpening real blades, arrows, axes, maces, and chains they’d thieved back from the Armory.
“How much boiling oil?” called one.
“Enough to blind them all!” shouted another, striking his sword against whetstone.
In the lollipop room, Reena sheared girls’ dresses to make them more practical for combat, while Beatrix armed each girl with a bag of jagged stones and thorn darts.
“But the boys train for war in class,” a girl moaned.
“We haven’t even learned to fight!” said another.
“Would you like to be a slave to villains?” Beatrix fired back. “Made to cook children and eat princess hearts and drink horse blood—”
“And wear black?” Reena cried.
Evergirls gulped.
“Then learn quickly,” Beatrix said.
In the marshmallow room, Kiko and Giselle lit dozens of torches, while in the gumdrop room, Nicholas and a fleet of boys hewed a battering ram.
Agatha found Tedros in the last room with Chaddick and two other boys, hunched over a hand-drawn map on Professor Dovey’s sugarplum desk.
“How do you know that’s where Evil Hall is?” Chaddick said.
“It’s just a guess,” said the prince. “Agatha’s the only one who’s been in that cursed school but I can’t find her. Tell Beatrix to look for her again.”
“I’ll save you the trouble.”
The boys turned to Agatha.
“We need your help,” Tedros said, smiling.
“I won’t help a Captain leading his army to their graves,” said Agatha.
Tedros flushed with surprise. “Agatha, they’re going to kill us!”
“Now Good comes to kill us all,” she retorted, holding up the black card. “Evil’s not attacking us! Sophie wants you to attack!”
“For once that witch and I agree on something,” Tedros said. “Now are you with me or not?”
“I won’t let you go.”
“I’m the man here, not you!”
“Then act like one!”
The clock struck nine o’clock.
As the tower bells rang, the boys looked nervously between Tedros and Agatha.
The last toll ceased.
In the silence, Agatha saw the doubt in Tedros’ eyes and knew she’d won. She smiled gently and reached for his hand, but Tedros pulled it away. Glowering at her, his face swelled redder, redder—
“WE CHARGE NOW!” he cried, and roars exploded through the hall.
As his three lieutenants ran to steer the troops, Tedros seized his map and followed out the door.
Agatha threw herself in his way. Before she could speak, he seized her by the waist.
“Agatha, do you trust me?” he breathed.
She sighed with irritation. “Of course, but—”
“Good.” He slammed the door and barred it with an arrow.
“I’m sorry,” he said through the door crack. “But I’m your prince and I’m going to protect you.”
“Tedros!” Agatha pounded on the candy door. “Tedros, she’ll kill you all!”
But through the crack, she saw him leading his Good army to war, armed with torches, weapons, battering ram, and bloodthirsty chant: “Kill the witch! Kill the witch!” In the flame-lit hall, their shadows distorted on walls, dark and crooked, then trailed away like magic.
Panic chilled Agatha’s blood. She had to get to the School for Evil before Tedros and his army. But what could she do to save them?
Only when your Nemesis is dead will you feel quenched, Lady Lesso had said.
Tears seared Agatha’s eyes, the grief of a decision already made.
Give herself to Sophie and no one else would die.
Let the witch win.
It was the only happy ending left.
With a primal scream, she punched and kicked the door, then rammed the sugarplum desk against it, but the candy didn’t break. She hurled chairs into the brûléed walls, stomped on the treacle floors . . . but there was only one way out of this room. Dripping sweat, Agatha looked through the window.
Her black clump found the ledge as she straddled the sill in her billowing blue gown. As the frigid night wind lashed her face, she pulled her other leg through and grabbed onto a vine of gold lights the fairies had draped across the tower for the Ball. With a desperate pull, she swung herself onto the narrow ridge and spun around.
She was so high above Halfway Bridge that the frozen teachers on it looked like beetles. The brutal wind flayed her ears and made her shiver so hard she almost slipped. Through the glass breezeway, she could see torches flooding down Honor Tower towards the Tunnel of Trees. She only had a few minutes before Good would storm right into Evil’s hands.
With chapped fists, Agatha tugged on the lights above her and saw they were strung tight. She squinted at the crisscross of fairy-lit vines spilling down the tower, a glowing road to take her to the Bridge.
Please be strong enough, Agatha prayed.
She grabbed the vine, jumped off the ledge, and heard it snap. Her body plunged, slammed into a glass ledge, and just before she careened off, something whizzed by and landed an inch from her cheek. Agatha grabbed onto it as the vine collapsed, then saw what it was—
An arrow.
Dangling from it, she looked back in shock, just in time to see an arrow miss her other cheek. More arrows came flying out of darkness, aimed right for her. As their steel tips grazed her again and again, Agatha closed her eyes and waited for the lethal shot of pain.
The whizzing stopped.
Agatha opened her eyes. Arrows rested in a haphazard foot ladder all the way down the tower wall.
She didn’t question who was trying to kill her or her spell of luck. She just climbed down the arrows as fast as she could to Halfway Bridge, and wove through petrified teachers, hands thrust out for a barrier that never came. As Tedros’ army arrived at the Clearing to find Good’s and Evil’s tunnels magically entwined and impassable, far away Agatha crossed safely into the villains’ lair.
High over her, in Malice’s window, Grimm sheathed his bow.
“And didn’t harm a hair on her head,” Sophie said, caressing him. “Much as you would have liked.”
Grimm grumbled obediently as Sophie peered out at Tedros’ army marching around the moat, then down at Agatha, vanishing into Evil all alone.
“Won’t be long now,” she said.
She swept aside the clumps of white hair on her desk and continued to sew, a puppet master gleefully pulling strings.
Agatha had expected to be captured the moment she entered Evil. But as she crept through the leaky foyer, she saw there were no guards, no booby traps, no symptoms of war. The School for Evil was unsettlingly quiet, except for iron doors creaking open and shut at the rear of the stair room. She peeked inside them and found the Theater of Tales, pristine and restored, with one difference. Where the front of the stone stage once depicted a phoenix rising from ashes, now it had a new scene . . .
A screaming witch, surrounded by ravens.
Shuddering, Agatha crept up the steps towards Evil Hall.
But, dear Nevers, we’ll have our revenge . . .
What would Sophie make the Nevers do to her? She thought of all the worst villains she’d found in fairy tales. Turn her into stone? Parade her severed head? Cook her in mince pie?
Though it was freezing cold, Agatha felt her cheeks perspire as she turned the corner.
Roll her in a barrel of nails? Cut out her heart? Fill her stomach with rocks?
Sweat mixed with tears as she looked down at hundreds of footprints—
Burn her? Stone her? Stab her?
She broke into a run and charged towards torture and death, wishing that someday she and Sophie would find each other in a different world, a world without princes, a world without pain, and with a terrified cry threw herself through skull-carved doors—
She lost her breath.
Evil Hall had been transformed into a magnificent ballroom, glittering with green tinsel, black balloons, thousands of green-flamed candles, and a spinning chandelier streaking wall murals with emerald bursts of light. Around a towering ice sculpture of two entwined snakes, Hort and Dot stumbled through a waltz, Anadil wrapped her arms around Vex, Brone tried not to step on Mona’s green feet, and Hester and Ravan swayed and whispered as more villainous couples waltzed around them. Ravan’s bunk mates picked up the music on reed violins and more pairs flooded onto the floor, clumsy, bashful, but aglow with happiness, dancing beneath a spangled banner:
THE 1st ANNUAL VILLAINS “NO BALL”
Agatha began to cry.
The music stopped.
She wiped her eyes to see Nevers staring at her. Couples broke apart. Faces reddened with shame.
“What is she doing here?” Vex spat.
“She’ll tell the Evers!” Mona said—
“Get her!” Arachne cried—
“I’ll handle this,” said a voice.
Hester stepped through the crowd. Agatha reeled back. “Hester, listen—”
“This is a villains’ party, Agatha,” Hester said, skulking towards her. “And you’re not a villain.”
Agatha cowered against the wall. “Wait—don’t—”
“I’m afraid there’s only one thing to do,” said Hester, shadow swelling over her.
Agatha shielded her face. “Die?”
“Stay,” Hester said.
Agatha stared at her. So did the Nevers.
Vex pointed. “B—but—she’s—”
“Welcome as my guest,” Hester said. “Unlike Snow Balls, No Balls have no rules.”
Agatha shook her head, finding tears instead of words. Hester touched her shoulder.
“This is how we found the Hall,” she said, voice breaking. “I think she wanted us to have what she couldn’t. Maybe it’s her way of saying sorry.”
Agatha burst into sobs. “I’m sorry too—”
“I threw you in a sewer,” Hester sniffled. “We’ve all made mistakes. But we’ll fix them, won’t we? Both schools together.”
Agatha was crying so hard her body shook.
Hester tensed. “What is it?”
“I tried,” Agatha wept. “I tried to stop them.”
“Stop who—”
“KILL THE VILLS! NEVERS DIE!”
Slowly Hester turned.
“KILL THE VILLS! NEVERS DIE!”
Nevers massed to the giant windows and looked out into the night. Down the steep hill, the Good army marched around the moat, weapons glinting in torchlight.
The glow in the villains’ faces died and they shrank back into their shells. Wind swept through the windows and snuffed the candles, leaving the hall dark and cold.
“So you come to warn us. And your prince comes to kill us,” said Hester, gazing at the ferocious mob. “So much for love.”
“You don’t have to fight them,” Agatha pressed. “Let them see what I have.”
Hester turned, eyes on fire. “And let them laugh at us? Let them remind us what we are? Ugly. Unworthy. Losers.”
“That’s not what you are!”
But Hester had returned to the dangerous girl she once knew. “You know nothing about us,” she snarled.
“We’re all the same, Hester!” Agatha begged. “Let them see the truth. It’s the only way!”
“Yes,” Hester said quietly. “There is only one way.” She bared her teeth. “Free the witch!”
“No!” Agatha cried. “It’s what she wants!”
Hester sneered. “And remind our princess what happens when fair maidens go where they don’t belong.”
Agatha screamed as the shadows of villains over-whelmed her.
High above, in a rotted tower, a mob of fifty Nevers shoved aside the last furniture and ripped out the final nail of Room 66. With a savage roar, they kicked down its door and recoiled in shock.
A shriveled, hideous hag looked back at them in a luscious pink ball gown. She rubbed her gleaming bald head and flashed her blackened gums.
“Let me guess,” Sophie smiled. “Our party has unexpected guests.”
It wasn’t glass. It was ice.
She tried to inhale more air, but gagged. Her eyes bulged, her cheeks went blue. . . . Then the dark shadows parted and a pink specter floated through. With her tongue, Agatha breathlessly wiped frost clear. Sophie, bald and grotesque, smiled down at her, a Doom Room axe in her hands. As Agatha took her dying breaths, her eyes pleaded for mercy. Sophie gazed at her through ice, ran her fingers over Agatha’s entombed face . . . and raised the axe.
Somewhere Hester screamed.
The axe smashed through ice, shattering the tomb, and stopped a hair from Agatha’s face. She plunged to wet floor, heaving for breath.
“Freezing a poor princess?” Sophie sighed. “That’s no way to treat a guest, Hester.”
“The arrows—it was you—” Agatha stammered, crawling back. “You brought me here—to kill me—”
“Kill you?” Sophie looked hurt. “You think I can kill you?”
Across the room, Agatha saw Hester huddled with Anadil and Dot, gawking at their once roommate, now a bald, shriveled hag.
“Truth is I want to hurt you, Agatha,” Sophie said, melting the axe away with a glowing finger. “But I just can’t.”
She studied her rotted face in a balloon. “My behavior last night was poor.”
“Poor?” Agatha coughed. “You pushed me through a window!”
“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” Sophie said, peering at Agatha’s blue gown in the balloon. “If I took everything that was yours?”
Sophie turned, pink gown glimmering. “But this is your fairy tale, Agatha. And either we end it as enemies or we end it as friends.”
“F-ffriends?” Agatha sputtered.
“The School Master said it was impossible. And perhaps both of us thought him right.” Sophie said, skin crackling around warts. “But how could he ever understand us?”
Agatha recoiled in disgust.
Sophie nodded. “I’m ugly now,” she agreed softly. “But I can be happy here, Agatha. I really can. We’re where we belong. You’re Good. I’m Evil.”
Her eyes drifted around the decorated Hall.
“But Evil can be beautiful, can’t it?”
Torchlight flooded the windows. “Sophie, Evers at the gates!” Anadil shouted, looking out—
“Revenge,” Agatha said, quivering. “You said you wanted revenge.”
“How else to lure Good here, Agatha?” Sophie said sadly. “How else to show them all we wanted was a Ball of our own?”
“Sophie, they’re coming!” Dot screamed. Beneath their feet, Evers rammed the castle doors.
“But now we’ll end all of this, won’t we?” Sophie said, drawing a gnarled fist from her dress pocket.
Agatha’s eyes widened. Something was in her hand.
“SHE’S UPSTAIRS!” The Evers had broken in.
“Agatha,” Sophie said, prowling towards her, fist tight.
“KILL THE WITCH!” Evers cried, storming up the stairs.
Sophie reached out her spotted fist.
“My friend . . . my Nemesis . . .”
Agatha cringed. Sophie unfurled her bare palm—
And sank to one knee.
“Will you dance with me?”
Agatha lost her breath.
BOOM! Evers bashed the hall doors.
“Sophie, what are you doing!” Hester screamed.
Sophie held out her withered hand to Agatha.
“We’ll show them it’s over.”
The doors splintered.
“One dance for peace,” Sophie vowed.
“Sophie, they’ll kill us all!” Hester shrieked—
Sophie kept her hand out. “One dance for a happy ending, Aggie.”
Paralyzed, Agatha looked at her, as the door locks shattered.
Sophie’s warts gleamed with tears. “One dance to save my life.”
“On three!” Tedros roared outside—
Sophie gazed up at Agatha with wide coal eyes. “It’s me, Aggie. Can’t you see?”
Shivering, Agatha searched her ugly face.
“One!”
“Agatha, please . . .”
Agatha stepped back, terrified.
“Please . . .” Sophie begged, face cracking. “Don’t let me die a villain.”
Agatha shrank away from her. “You’re Evil—”
“And the Good forgive.”
Agatha froze.
“Aren’t you Good?” Sophie breathed.
“Two!”
With a gasp, Agatha clasped her hand.
Sophie wrapped bony arms around her and pulled her in a gliding waltz across the floor. At Hester’s frantic cue, Ravan’s bunk mates struck up a wobbly love song.
“You are Good,” Sophie panted, head on Agatha’s shoulder.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” Agatha whispered, holding Sophie tight.
Sophie touched her cheek. “I wish I could say the same.”
Agatha looked at her. Sophie smiled darkly.
“Three!”
