An arrow sheared over her tiny carapace. Spooked, Agatha accelerated behind the rat, leading her intently towards a pine bush. Agatha motored through the bush behind him, pine needles pricking her thorax, and came out the other side. She stopped cold.

Handsome, dark-skinned Nicholas was facedown in mulch, a giant gash through the back of his head. As the roar of war echoed beyond the bush, Agatha gazed at the young Everboy, her insides crumbling. Valiant, sweet Nicholas . . . dead? Because of her fairy tale? Sadness and guilt rushed through her, big bug eyes filling with tears—

Anadil’s rat hissed.

Agatha turned to see it glaring at her and pinching at Nicholas’ uniform.

It wants me to take his clothes.

There was no part of Agatha that could do what she was about to do, and yet she had no choice.

Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

Sick to her gut, she reverted back to human form and forced herself to change into Nicholas’ uniform, while she crouched behind the pine bush. As she shoved on his big boots and pulled on his cloak, the rat nudged over Nicholas’ bow and quiver of arrows, which lay by his side. Agatha leaned in and touched her shaking hand to Nicholas’ black hair.

Find Sophie, she gritted.

Find her now.

From the rat, she took his weapon into hand and rose from the bush, suited in all black, her eyes darkening and jaw clamped. With a deep breath, Agatha plunged into war.

The air was so dark and foggy, filled with the smoke of flying arrows and burning zombie corpses, that at first she could only see shadows. Taking cover behind a tree, she squinted and made out Hort and Peter Pan twenty feet away, both trying to fend off Captain Hook with sticks, rocks, and whatever else they could find on the ground. Meanwhile, Tinkerbell frantically showered fairy dust over Hook, trying to fly him away, but the Captain spun and sliced into her wing with his blade, sending Tink plummeting to the ground. As Tinkerbell crawled through the grass, looking for a place to hide, Hook stabbed harder at Peter and Hort. Hort tripped backwards over Peter’s feet trying to defend him and Hook bashed him aside, bolting towards Pan—

Behind a tree, Agatha knew she only had one shot to save him. With her fingerglow, she lit her arrow tip on fire and aimed it right at Hook’s heart. As he launched towards Peter Pan, hook ripping towards his neck, Agatha let the arrow fly—

It missed Hook’s heart but speared his cheek instead, lighting his face on fire.

As Hook staggered back in surprise, trying in vain to put out the flames, Hort and Peter didn’t even look to see who’d saved their lives. Both ran for cover, as Agatha watched Hook succumb to the fire and collapse into the dirt.

One down. Even if it was by accident.

Agatha stepped out from behind the tree, another arrow drawn. She searched the trees for Sophie, but all she could find were more students and mentors trying to fight off zombie villains, who seemed to be exclusively targeting the famous heroes now: Gretel and Hester against the witch, Red Riding Hood and Dot against the wolf, Jack and Anadil against the giant. . . . With every second, the Good heroes were losing more ground against their villains, steadily being pushed out of the trees towards Gavaldon’s shield. The battlefield around them was littered with fractured stymphs, dead villains, and moaning students, nursing wounds and broken limbs.