gown. âDid anyone see you?â
âNo,â said Professor Dovey.
Lady Lesso spun to Sophie and Agatha, violet eyes flashing.
âThen itâs time they learned what theyâve done.â
â We did this?â Agatha blurted.
âBut we werenât even here!â said Sophie, turning between the Dean of Evil at the window and the Dean of Good at Professor Saderâs old desk, overflowing with open books.
Lady Lesso glowered at their dirt-smudged faces. âIn this world, actions have consequences. Endings have consequences.â
âBut our fairy tale ended happily!â Sophie said.
Professor Dovey let out a groan.
âWhy donât you tell us how it ended?â Lady Lesso sneered, blue veins throbbing.
âWe killed the School Master and solved his riddle!â Sophie said.
âThatâs how Sophie and I went home!â said Agatha.
âClarissa, show them how it really ends,â Lady Lesso growled.
Professor Dovey flung a book across the desk. It was heavy and thick, bound with brown sheepskin and spattered with mud. Agatha opened to the first soggy page. Black calligraphy, slightly smeared, spilled across fresh parchment.
The Tale of Sophie & Agatha
Sophie turned the page to a richly colored painting of her and Agatha, standing before the School Master.
Once upon a time , the script below read, there were twogirls.
Agatha remembered the line. The Storian had written it to start their fairy tale when they broke into the School Masterâs tower. Flipping the bookâs pages, Agatha saw her and Sophieâs story unfold in a brilliant sweep of paintings: Sophie trying to win Tedrosâ kiss . . . Agatha saving Tedrosâ life in a brutal attack . . . Agatha and Tedros falling in love . . . Sophie transforming into a vengeful witch . . . the School Master stabbing Sophie . . . Agatha reviving her with loveâs kiss . . . and then the very last page . . . a dazzling vision of Tedros desperately reaching for Agatha as she and Sophie disappeared, three words beneath to close their story. . . .
They were gone .
Agatha felt tears rise, soaking in all the pain and love she and Sophie had shared to get home.
âItâs the perfect fairy tale,â Sophie said, meeting Agathaâs eyes with a choked-up smile.
They turned to the teachers, who looked deathly grim. âItâs not over,â said Lady Lesso.
The girls peered down at the book, confused. Their grimy hands lifted the last page, and they saw there was something on the other side.
A painting of Tedros, back turned, walking into dark fog, all alone.
And Sophie and Agatha lived happy ever after, for girls donât need princes for love to call. . . .
No, they donât need princes in their fairy tales at all.
âThis oneâs from Maidenvale. But you can find it anywhere, really. Theyâre even telling it in Netherwood.â
Sophie and Agatha raised their heads to Professor Dovey, frowning over the messy desk.
âItâs the only story anyone wants to hear.â
Now the girls saw that all the open books werenât there by accident. Each book on the desk was spread to its last page. Some were in oil paints, some in watercolor, some in charcoal and ink; some were in a language the girls knew, others in scripts they didnât. But all ended their version of The Tale of Sophie and Agatha the same way: Tedros alone and unneeded, slumping into darkness.
âGoodness, all this gloom because weâre popular ?â Sophie said. âYou canât be surprised. Snow White and Cinderella are sweet and all. But who wants them when they can have me ?â
She turned to Agatha for support, but her friend was staring out the window. âAggie?â
Agatha didnât answer. Slowly she approached the window, and Lady Lesso stepped aside without a word. At Saderâs desk, Professor Dovey held
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