The School for Good and Evil #2: A World without Princes by Soman Chainani Page B

break into a castle full of bloodthirsty males,” the Dean said, sweeping her buxom behind through the foyer. “Let’s say you free the Storian against all odds.” She stopped outside the frosted doors of the Gallery of Good. “The wish won’t work unless you mean it.”
    She gazed at Sophie. “How can you wish for Agatha if you know she wants her prince?”
    The Dean turned to Agatha. “How can you wish for Sophie if you fear the witch inside?”
    She leaned in so close the girls could smell her flawless honeycream skin.
    â€œHow can you wish for someone you do not trust ?”
    Sophie and Agatha’s eyes met dartingly, hoping the other would argue. Neither did.
    â€œYour friendship must be fixed before you can go home. And here you will fix what is broken,” Dean Sader said, a last butterfly fluttering into her dress. “Fairy tales have trained us to believe a beautiful bond like yours cannot last. Why? Because a man must come between you. A man so threatened by your story that he’s willing to kill to destroy it. But at my school, we teach you the truth.” She opened the door to pitch darkness.
    â€œThat a woman without a man is the greatest happy ending of all .”
    Her finger magically lit a torch, and the flame roared red to a burst of drums. The two girls leapt back—
    Twenty rows of girls stood frozen, heads bowed, each wearing a white veil, royal-blue harem pants, and a light blue bodice stitched with a butterfly crest over the heart. There were more than 100 of them, stretching through the exhibits of the museum, past its open back doors, and into the vast ballroom of Good Hall. Faces obscured, they stood eerily still, arms raised with hands to opposite elbows as if summoning genies. Hovering above them, just beneath the ceiling, two more veiled girls on magic carpets beat snare drums faster and faster.
    At the front of this parade was a lone girl without anyone else in her row. Her veil was blue instead of white, her hair ginger red, and the pallid skin on her thin arms dotted with strawberry freckles. Slowly she raised her arms . . .
    The drums stopped.
    With an untamed screech, the girl blew a blast of fire that singed the magic carpets and sent Agatha and Sophie quailing from flames. As the drums beat once more, the girl whipped into a whirling belly dance, punctuating each move with a wild whistle or trill.
    â€œOne look at her, and Tedros will forget all about his wish maker,” said Sophie coldly, watching her.
    â€œSophie, I’m sorry.” Agatha shifted closer to her friend. “I really am.”
    Sophie shifted away.
    â€œI’d never lose you for a boy,” Agatha prodded. But eyeing the dancing girl, she suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy. . . . Had Tedros seen her?
    She crushed the thought. Tedros wanted to kill her best friend, and she was still thinking of him? He’s the enemy, you idiot!
    Stefan’s face haunted her, begging her to return Sophie home safe. Where was the Agatha who’d do anything to protect her best friend? The one who had control over her feelings? The one who was Good?
    By now, the rows behind started to echo the leader’s dance, flowing with crisp hand movements. Then, with a sudden flourish, the girls all turned to each other and danced in pairs. Hands brushed and clasped as they touched backs before lifting arms and switching places, never losing the touch of their palms. In their glinting blue harem pants and white veils, they looked like swaying sea anemones. Despite the storm in her heart, Sophie managed a smile. She had never seen something so beautiful. Then again, she’d never seen girls dance without boys.
    Agatha didn’t like Sophie’s expression. “Sophie, I need to talk to Tedros.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI said I’m sorry. You have to let me fix it!”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThe fool thinks I want you killed!” Agatha