“Because your mother knew that the League of Thirteen had a thirteenth member,” said a deep voice.

Agatha and Tedros turned to see a tall shadow standing at the cave entrance.

“She knew these twelve would keep you safe. But help?” the voice said, as the shadow slid into the light. “I’m afraid that’s only me.”

“Ah, just in time . . . ,” smiled Yuba.

Agatha stared at a long, gangly nut-brown old man with a thick white beard and twisty white moustache. He wore a sweeping violet cape lined with fur tippets and stitched with the signs of the zodiac, a droopy, dented cone hat patterned with stars, large horn-rimmed spectacles, and a pair of plushy violet slippers.

I’ve seen him before, Agatha thought, too tired to think clearly. In the Woods? No . . . it was a storybook, wasn’t it? . . . a storybook that Dean Sader had taken her whole class inside. This old man was there, inside a dusty cave, filled with burbling laboratory vessels and shelves of grubby vials and jars . . . arguing with a king about a spell . . . a king that looked a lot like . . .

Agatha’s heart seized, her eyes shooting open, and she spun to Tedros behind her—

But her prince was already pale as a ghost.

“Merlin,” he gasped.

His legs crumpled and he fell all at once like a tree in a forest, his princess right there to catch him.

11

Appointment with the Deans

As midnight came and went, Sophie sat calmly in the School Master’s window, her hair wet, her ebony dress bunched at the knees as she pressed bare toes against the wall. She looked out at the fluorescent green bay, reflecting the shadows of two black castles, both dark and quiet.

Just this morning, she’d been reeling with doubts: from a school that turned Evers into Nevers . . . from Agatha’s voice, impelling her to destroy Rafal’s ring . . . from a schedule that called her a teacher of Evil when she still didn’t feel Evil at all.

She turned to the Storian over her storybook, painting a scene of Agatha and Tedros following a white rabbit through the Woods. With every minute, her friends were getting closer to school, closer to seeing her again, closer to convincing her to leave Evil behind forever . . .

Sophie smiled, feeling the gold ring lock tight on her finger.

Or so they think.

How quickly things changed in a fairy tale.

Twelve hours earlier, Sophie had been chasing after the School Master, as he crossed a green breezeway tunnel into the old Valor tower.

“Teach Evil? Teach Curses and Death Traps?” Sophie yelped, gripping her schedule as she floundered after him in her black nightgown and glass heels. “Have you lost your mind!”