A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,38

wolves demolishing Sophie’s interiors. But seconds after tearing down paintings and fixtures and lamps, they all floated straight back up.

“He’s been battling that tower ever since he took over as Dean,” Professor Anemone chortled as more repelling spells scalded Manley and his wolves. “I’ve learned never to underestimate that girl.”

From inside the tower, Manley let out a primal scream.

It only made Agatha miss Sophie more.

The stymph landed on the south side of Halfway Bay in front of Good’s castle. As Agatha dismounted, fairies swarmed her, smelling her hair and neck. Unlike the fairies that used to run the School for Good when she was a first year, this new fleet were of different shapes, sizes, colors, as if from a variety of lands, but they all seemed to know who she was.

As she followed Professor Anemone uphill, Agatha noticed the unusual quiet. She could hear her own clump-steps crackling on the Great Lawn’s crisp grass, the spasm of fairy wings around her, the burps of water from the lake. Agatha peered across the bay and saw the same scene on Evil’s shores as smooth blue slime lapped up and stained the sand. A lone guard wolf in a red soldier’s jacket and a whip on his belt had fallen asleep on one of Sophie’s new cabanas.

Professor Anemone opened the doors to Good’s castle and Agatha silently trailed her through a long hall of mirrors. Agatha caught her reflection in the glass, grubby, windblown, and sleepless, her black gown ragged with holes. She looked worse than she did on her first day of school, when Evergirls had cornered her in this hall, thinking she was a witch, and she’d farted in their faces to escape. Smirking at the memory, Agatha followed her teacher, turning into the foyer—

“WELCOME HOME!”

A cheer exploded like a bomb, sending Agatha staggering backwards.

More than a hundred first years in the foyer whistled and hooted, while waving enchanted signs, with words popping off banners: “I STAND WITH AGATHA!”; “NEVER RHIAN!”; “JUSTICE FOR TEDROS!”

Agatha gawked at this new class of Evers, so fresh-faced and clean, with the girls in restyled pink pinafores and the boys in navy waistcoats, skinny ties, and tight beige breeches. Silver swan crests glittered over their hearts, branding them as first years, along with magical name tags that moved around their bodies to help Agatha see them from any sightline—“LAITHAN,” “VALENTINA,” “SACHIN,” “ASTRID,” “PRIYANKA,” and more. Many looked close to her in age, especially the boys, so tall and princely with training swords on their waists . . . and yet, despite this, all of them seemed so young. As if they still held faith in the laws of Good and Evil. As if they’d yet to learn that the bubble of school could be so easily punctured. I was like them once, Agatha thought.

“QUEEN AGATHA! QUEEN AGATHA!” chanted the first years as they surrounded her like lemmings, crowding her between the foyer’s four staircases: Valor and Honor to the boys’ towers, Purity and Charity to the girls’. Agatha looked up to see the teachers gathered on the Valor staircase—Princess Uma, who’d taught her Animal Communication; Professor Espada, who taught Swordplay; Yuba the Gnome, who’d led her Forest Group . . . It was the same scene that greeted Agatha on her own Welcoming day, only this time, there were two professors missing. Seven-foot nymphs with neon hair floated beneath the domed ceiling, sprinkling rose petals that caught in Agatha’s dress and made her sneeze. Agatha tried to smile at the young Evers, singing her name and waving their signs and swords, but all she could think about was Professor Dovey and Professor August Sader, both absent from the top of the stairs. Without them, the school no longer felt warm or safe. It felt alien, vulnerable.

“GOOD IDLES AND EVIL WORKS,” a voice boomed. “SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT.”

Agatha and the Evers swiveled to see the double doors at the rear of the foyer fly open. Castor the Dog stood inside the Theater of Tales, its two sides turned into a massive war room. More than a hundred Nevers in sleek black-leather uniforms toiled at various stations, littered with papers and notebooks and maps, while Evil teachers supervised.

“NICE TO SEE YOU’RE ALIVE,” said Castor, glancing at Agatha, before baring sharp teeth at the Evers. “BUT WE AIN’T WON NOTHIN’ YET.”

THE FIRST YEARS were split into workstations based on their respective Forest Groups, with five Evers and five Nevers at each station. At the first station, Group #1