Fall of the School for Good and Evil

Contents Cover Title Page Part 1: The Rule of Threes Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Part 2: The Name of the One Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Part 3: Faithful Soldiers Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Excerpt from The School for Good and Evil About the Author Books by Soman Chainani Back Ads Copyright About the Publisher Before the two School Masters named Rhian and Rafal, there was another. A young lad with dark red curls and a smattering of freckles, who’d presented himself to the Storian, like all School Masters who sought to rule. The Pen assessed the boy, long and steel, sharp at both ends, its tip like an eye. Then it spoke. In exchange for immortality In exchange for eternal youth I choose you. A soul that is as Good as it is Evil. But every School Master faces a test. Yours is balance. Between the Goodness of your soul And the Evil of its shadow. Neither side must win out. Tip the balance and the test is failed. You will wither and die. You will be replaced. Raise your hand to seal this oath. The boy does, his vow sealed with blood. But he does not last long. Less than a year later, the new School Masters find him. A trembling voice in the shadows. A withered old man. The test failed. “What happened?” they ask before he dies. But it is the wrong question. They should have asked who he is. 1. “This is Gavaldon?” Rhian scoffed. “This is the mythic Woods Beyond you spoke of? The place where you intend to get replacements for the students stolen from us? This unenchanted hole that smells of pig and unwashed boys?” The Good School Master surveyed the dusty roads, weedy gardens, and shabbily dressed villagers trundling by, beneath dull, empty skies. “There is nothing here for us.” “I told you to disguise yourself as a townsman,” the Evil School Master replied, eyeing his brother’s brown trench coat, gold-buckled wellies, ear-flapped hat, and face wizened with wrinkles and a long white beard. “You look like an overgrown dwarf.” “Well, you look like a certain pirate thief we know,” Rhian bit back. Heat rose to Rafal’s cheeks. He’d disguised himself on the flight here, quickly summoning wavy black hair and softer features, giving little thought to the particulars, but now in the reflection of his brother’s eyes, he saw his magic had filled in the details with those of James Hook. A boy he’d forbidden himself from thinking about, ever since Hook betrayed both him and his twin and stolen twelve of their best students to Neverland. But the more you shove something under the surface, the more it finds its way onto your face. Rafal brushed by his brother. “Follow me.” He made his way into Miss Harissa’s Bookshop, the jingle-jangle of the door chime drowned out by the barks of a poorly groomed dog. “You brought me all this way for books?” Rhian groused. “Don’t we have enough where we sleep?” A fair question, given the School Masters slept in a tower lined with thousands of fairy tales, but now the owner of the bookshop, Miss Harissa herself, with frazzled gray hair, a red tweed coat, and a matching hat that looked like an umbrella, came bounding out of the back, waving an emerald-green tome. “Haven’t seen you two before! Welcome, welcome. Come craving a good tale? You’re in luck. This one arrived last night and I’ve already read it and I have to say: what a story! Duplicitous brothers, scheming pirates, a magical circus of talents . . .” Rhian’s eyes were big as coins, gawking at the title of the book in her hands. FALA AND HIS BROTHER Rhian stammered: “B-b-but . . . w-w-where did you . . .” “We’ll be right back,” Rafal said, dragging Rhian out of the shop to more jingling and barking. Miss Harissa scratched her head and peered at the book. “Well, I suppose it isn’t for the faint of heart.” Outside, Rafal pulled his brother into a dark alley near the shop. Rhian shook out of his wizened face, restoring his tan cheeks and wild gold hair. “How can she have that book?” he gasped. “The Storian only just finished writing it!” “It’s why I brought you here,” Rafal explained. “The Storian has been sneaking its fairy tales into this woman’s bookshop for these unmagical strangers to read.” Rhian blinked. “What? The Pen that we protect, that writes our world’s stories, that keeps the eternal balance between Good and Evil, is giving its tales to these buffoons . . . as entertainment?” “Which means they know all about our world, even if they think the Woods aren’t real,” said Rafal. “Readers, I call them. Imagine the astonishment they’ll feel when we steal them to our school . . . imagine their potential . . .” “You want to kidnap ordinary children? To replace our best students?” said the Good School Master, aghast. “That isn’t just crackpot, it’s . . . it’s . . . Evil—” “Our school is broken,” Rafal said sharply. “Evers abandoning you. Nevers betraying me. We need new blood. A fresh jolt that will make our Evers and Nevers fall into line. These Readers . . . They’ve read about our school. They know our stories. Think of what they’ll do when they find out it’s all true! Children from the Woods take it for granted. But these won’t. They’ll fight not just to survive