A tense silence filled the cave as Agatha took in the painting of a dead maiden and her seven dwarves—the same scene the witch had presided over as it transformed. Agatha rubbed unconsciously at the deep bruises on her forearm and wrist.

“S-S-Snow is dead?” Pinocchio whispered.

“Pretty, sweet Snow?” echoed Peter Pan.

(“Wasn’t that pretty,” Cinderella mumbled.)

The League members all gazed at Snow White’s terrible new ending, their eyes wet and scared, as if her death suddenly made the others real.

“I saw who killed her.”

Agatha’s voice came out before she even knew it.

The whole League slowly looked up at her.

Agatha slid her focus to the floor, palms clammy as she relived the scene in the glen. “It was the wicked queen in an old woman’s disguise, her ankles and legs burnt up, just like the fairy tale said. Her skin was peeling off like a corpse and she smelled like decaying flesh. And her eyes . . . they were bloodshot and dead, like there was no soul inside of her.” Agatha shook her head, trying to understand. “She could have killed me or Uma or Tedros, but she didn’t. As if she’d already done what she came to do.” She looked up at the League. “The wolf and Jack’s giant talked about it on Necro Ridge too . . . getting a turn at changing their stories . . . we didn’t know what they meant—”

“Wolf on Necro Ridge?” Red Riding Hood cut in. “My wolf?”

“And my giant?” echoed Jack, clutching Briar Rose.

“They’re all out there, then,” Agatha said anxiously. “Dead villains. Waiting for their turn to rewrite their fairy tales. That’s what’s happening, isn’t it?”

“Doesn’t make a shred of sense,” said Tedros, turning to Yuba. “Why would the School Master’s army waste time rewriting a bunch of old stories? Why kill old heroes who aren’t a threat to anyone? Why not attack the Ever kingdoms instead?”

Even Yuba was tight-lipped, fingers fidgeting on his staff, as if he’d pondered the question and had no answer.

The old heroes blinked at the gnome, fear filling their faces.

“We are heroes, yes?” Hansel challenged. “We must fight back!”

“Against two hundred dead witches, monsters, and who-knows-what running around the Woods? Don’t be an imbecile,” Gretel snapped. “Why do you think we’re here in stinky cave hiding?”

“Can’t hide for long. They’ll find us all eventually, no matter how often we move Headquarters,” soured Cinderella. “School Master’s got love on his side now. He’s invincible. What do we got except age spots and cricked necks?”

“Ella’s right,” Jack sighed. “As long as the School Master’s got a queen who loves him, all of us are gonna end up dead as Snow.”

“Then what do we do?” mewled Red Riding Hood.

“The only thing we can do,” said Yuba, eyes shifting to Agatha and Tedros. “Convince his queen to destroy that love.”

The League went quiet.

“The crackpot plan again,” Cinderella murmured.