Indigo slowly gathered her textbooks when the bell signaled the end of Good Deeds class. Usually, Huntley would wait for her and they would walk to their next class together, but now Huntley was one of the first to leave the classroom.
"Indigo?" Professor Dovey called as the last of the students left. "I'd like to speak with you."
Indigo nervously walked up to Professor Dovey's desk. "Yes?"
Professor Dovey glanced at a clock decorated with candied gumdrops. "I will make this quick before the next class starts."
"Am I in trouble?" Indigo asked anxiously.
"Well, a student of mine reported that you were implementing something prohibited in the Library of Virtue. The student wasn't specific on what you were doing exactly."
Indigo froze. "What? Who said this?"
"I'm afraid I can't give away any names," Professor Dovey said. "But is it true?"
Indigo blinked and quickly shook her head.
"Alright," Professor Dovey said slowly. "But remember, lying to an authority in this school can result in demoting ranks, suspension, or expulsion."
"I understand," Indigo murmured feebly. Then before Professor Dovey could say anymore, Indigo hurtled out of the classroom.
Professor Dovey didn't need to tell Indigo who reported her. It was obvious, painstakingly obvious.
Indigo spotted Huntley down the hall, and she weaved her way through the crowds toward him. The fear of punishment melted away in her heart, replaced by livid anger. Huntley told a teacher. It didn't matter that they weren't friends anymore—he betrayed her.
Indigo swallowed the furious scream rising in her throat. "Huntley!" she called out instead.
Huntley turned. When he saw Indigo, he blanched.
"Can we talk?" Indigo asked, shaping her voice to sound as meek as possible. There was no point in scaring Huntley away when dozens of students were around.
"Sure," Huntley said quietly. Indigo dragged him into a barren, abandoned classroom.
"We'll both have to be late for our next class," Indigo said calmly. "If you don't mind."
Huntley silently shook his head.
The bell bing-bonged, and the halls were silent.
Indigo took a deep breath. "You told Professor Dovey."
Huntley didn't try denying it. "I did," he admitted. "But I can explain. You—"
"Huntley. I might be expelled. I lied and told Professor Dovey that I didn't do anything, and she said students could be punished for lying. I lied, Huntley. I panicked and I lied." Indigo choked back a sob and leaned against the wall for support. The grave consequences of her actions had finally settled in, and Indigo truly feared her punishment. She took her studies very seriously, and suspension, expulsion, or even demotion would ruin everything. Thanks to Huntley.
"Indigo, I'm sorry. I didn't know," Huntley said sincerely. "I'm really sorry. Maybe I can talk to Professor Dovey—"
"It's too late!" Indigo screamed hysterically, and Huntley staggered back in shock. "Professor Dovey isn't stupid! She would know—she already knows I'm lying! Honestly Huntley, why are you so slow?"
"I'm sorry!" Huntley apologized again. "Indie, I truly—"
"Shut your big mouth!" Indigo screamed at him. The anger surged through her once again, this time renewed and bursting. "I hate you! I hate you so much! I wish you were dead!" Then Indigo burst into tears, angry, shameful tears.
Huntley had always been so sure of his actions, but now, he regretted everything. He regretted accepting the invitation to the School for Good and Evil and dragging Indigo along with him. This school was destroying her. "Indie," he said gently. He reached out and reassuringly touched her shoulder. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you. Promise."
Indigo fiercely wiped her tears away. Huntley was acting so calm, unbearably calm because he was safe from punishment, but his deliberate actions might cost her everything. "You knew this would happen. You told the teacher on purpose!" Indigo accused. "You wanted revenge! How Evil is that?"
"No," Huntley said, eyes wide. "No, you've got it all wrong!"
Indigo glanced up and looked into the eyes of her former best friend. Abruptly, pure loathing sliced through her. Indigo couldn't believe it took her until now to see how atrocious Huntley was.
"...I'll explain everything…" Huntley was saying.
Indigo reached out and soothingly touched Huntley's cheeks.
Huntley stopped talking. Indigo's fingertips were impossibly cold on his face.
Indigo vehemently swiped her hand away, her nails deliberately grazing Huntley's cheek.
With a gasp, Huntley jerked away, one hand flying up to his bleeding cheek.
Indigo stalked up to him. "You deserve that," she hissed. "Every moment of pain, you deserve it all." Then she whipped out a beautiful white rose, and Huntley's eyes widened in recognition. It was the same rose he gifted her a while ago, at the Welcoming, when they were still close. Indigo touched a silky petal and jerked her hand. The petal flailed in the air before it gracefully fell to the ground. Indigo repeated this with all the other petals, plucking one by one until the rose was bald. Then Indigo dropped the rose stem onto the floor, where it landed with the fallen white petals.
"Stop," Huntley demanded hoarsely. "Indigo—"
Indigo slapped his hand away. As Huntley watched in horror, Indigo stamped a foot down on the remnants of the rose and twisted, smudging the plant on the floor. Every smudge and stamp was a kick to Huntley's heart, and yet, Indigo continued until all that was left was white mush and plant slime. "That is how I feel about you," Indigo spat. Then she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
The Trial by Tale. It was looming closer as students and teachers hastily prepared. The bottommost-ranked students were relaxing, knowing that they wouldn't be chosen to compete in the Trial by Tale. But the upper-ranked students vigorously practiced their spells and hexes. Indigo's name had somehow climbed to the very top of the ranks as Stella's dropped down to fifth.
"Are you okay?" Bernadette asked Stella one day during breakfast.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You dropped from first to fifth. That's five ranks!"
"I know," Stella said calmly.
"But who will ask you to the Snow Ball? All princes desire smart princesses. No boy is going to ask out a dumb girl!" Hadleigh exclaimed, though she was ranked last on the Ever board.
"It wouldn't matter anyway," Bernadette pouted. "Every boy likes you, Stella. It's not fair. No one notices me. And you were wrong about Nate, by the way."
"It's okay, Stella," Hadleigh said. "It's not your fault you dropped a few ranks. I bet it's that Never you talk to at lunch—he probably secretly cursed you to be dumber."
"That's ridiculous," Stella said defensively.
"I can't believe you ditched us for him," Bernadette added. "And why does he have to be emo? Why are all Nevers emo?"
"They're all forced to wear black school uniforms," Stella said, unamused.
"Well, it's depressing," Bernadette said with a shrug.
Then in Surviving Fairy Tales, Yuba had students individually battle off man-eating tulips.
"I dreamed about one of those," Harvey said, pointing at the snarling tulips. "And it was before I came here."
"That's funny," Vesper said.
"Huntley, you're next!" Yuba hollered.
Huntley reluctantly emerged from behind a group of Evers, sporting three long, jagged scratches down his left cheek.
"Your face! What happened?" Stella gasped as he passed by.
"My cat scratched me," Huntley answered.
"I didn't know he had a cat," Stella murmured after Huntley left.
From nearby, Jezebel—the Nevergirl whose features strongly resembled a cat's (minus the fur, whiskers, and cat ears)—grinned, her yellow cat eyes gleaming.
"The Cheshire Cat is her great-times-fifty grandfather," Vesper explained when he noticed Harvey staring curiously.
"I didn't know the Cheshire Cat was a villain," Harvey said. "When I was younger, he had been my favorite character from the tale."
"Maybe that's why you're in Evil," Vesper said suggestively.
Harvey laughed, but it was obviously forced. "Everything you say is usually wrong," he said.
"What do you mean?" Vesper frowned.
"Like now. Or that one time when you claimed there wasn't a way out of the School for Good and Evil."
"But there isn't," Vesper protested.
Harvey shook his head. "There's a glaringly obvious way to escape this prison. It's not even hard to do."
"If it's so obvious and easy, then how come no other Reader has managed to escape?" Vesper snapped.
"Because if you choose to attempt it, you'd be risking everything."
Vesper thought about those words, but they confused him. How could something be simultaneously easy but risky?
Stella organized another reenactment project session in the Theater of Tales, but this time, both Harvey and Indigo were absent.
"Goodness! At this rate we'll never get our project finished in time!" Stella said angrily. "Huntley, do you know where Indigo is?"
"No," Huntley said crossly.
"You're kidding." Stella turned to Vesper and Scarlet. "Do any of you know where Harvey is?"
"We can look. Me and Vesper," Scarlet said eagerly.
"You can? Great!" Stella said, relieved. "Huntley, you and I are looking for Indigo."
The group halved. Scarlet and Vesper both headed back to the School for Evil, with Scarlet leading the way.
"Where do you think Harvey is?" Vesper asked.
Scarlet shrugged dismissively. "I honestly don't care. But let's try to take up as much time as possible. I only volunteered to find him so we wouldn't have to work on the project with those idiot Evers."
Vesper rolled his eyes. "That's..."
"Genius, I know. Mother will be so proud of me." Scarlet smiled to herself for a moment, lost in daydream.
"Let's check his room first," Vesper said.
Scarlet reluctantly followed Vesper through the various towers until he stopped at the last one.
"Harvey has his own room," Vesper said, trying the doorknob. It was unlocked.
The room was dark and dingy. Even when Vesper pulled back the curtains, the room was still depressing. At least there was light.
"Don't sneak through his things," Vesper reprimanded as Scarlet began to shuffle through a pile of unfinished assignments.
"Ugh, the Reader doesn't even do his homework. No wonder he's ranked last," Scarlet said. "Well, except for this one. He wrote a lot."
"Let me see," Vesper said, out of curiosity. It was obvious that Harvey wasn't in his room, and besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
Scarlet handed the parchment over and Vesper studied it. It was the same diagram of the human arm that Harvey dropped at lunch, when Stella first sat with them.
"Here's more," Scarlet said. "And a bunch of letters, too." Scarlet cleared her throat and began to read aloud one of the letters. "'Mother and Father, I know I will die soon, but—'" Scarlet paused. "The rest is scribbled out," she complained.
"Who wrote that?" Vesper asked, peering over Scarlet's shoulder.
"The Reader, I'm sure. The handwriting matches. It's all the same grotesque scrawl."
"'I will die soon?' What does that mean?" Vesper studied the other letters. "I think these are all the rough drafts of a letter," he decided.
Scarlet laughed. "The Reader is a paranoid one," she said. "He probably thought someone was going to murder him."
"Cairo did die," Vesper pointed out.
"I know, but unlike Cairo, the stymphs obey the Reader. Or maybe Death lodged itself into Harvey's brain after Lady Lesso's lecture about the radial artery."
A memory flashed through Harvey's brain.
"Don't worry about him," Vesper said. "But it's true. Lady Lesso is making us memorize all the most vital arteries in the human arm. She says it's something we should keep in mind when we're killing our enemies. Severing the radial artery is a simple and less-gory way to kill someone."
"Or a simple and less-gory way to kill oneself," Stella said.
Vesper remembered the memory clearly. Stella had just crossed over to the Never side of the Clearing and sat down with him and Harvey. Harvey had left in a hurry, and he dropped his homework.
But one line stood out to Vesper in his memory. "Or a simple and less-gory way to kill oneself," as Stella had said.
Something in Vesper's brain clicked, and another memory drifted to the surface. This time, it was recent—during Surviving Fairy Tales, to be exact.
Harvey laughed, but it was obviously forced. "Everything you say is usually wrong," he said.
"What do you mean?" Vesper frowned.
"Like now. Or that one time when you claimed there wasn't a way out of the School for Good and Evil."
"But there isn't," Vesper protested.
Harvey shook his head. "There's a glaringly obvious way to escape this prison. It's not even hard to do."
"If it's so obvious and easy, then how come no other Reader has managed to escape?" Vesper snapped.
"Because if you choose to attempt it, you'd be risking everything."
According to Stella, severing the radial artery was an easy way to kill oneself. The radial artery was emphasized on Harvey's diagram, and death was certainly a way to escape the School for Good and Evil. Death was "glaringly obvious" and "risky."
"Scarlet," Vesper said suddenly. "I think I know. Harvey's going to kill himself."
Scarlet blinked. "Huh?"
"He's going to kill himself!" Vesper dropped the letters he was carrying back on the desk.
"Oh…how do you know?" Scarlet looked unsettlingly calm.
"No time to explain—we can check the Library of Vice. I don't know where else he might be."
Scarlet followed Vesper out of the room, toward the Library of Vice. At one point, they broke into a run. Then as they neared the library entrance, Vesper slowed again.
"We can split up," he said. "You check the left wing, I'll check the right."
"Aye aye, Captain," Scarlet said sarcastically.
But when they entered the dim Library of Vice, Scarlet and Vesper could see they didn't need to split up. Harvey was there, sitting cross-legged on a table before them. And in one hand, he held a knife.
When Harvey saw them, he hopped off the table. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. Besides Vesper and Scarlet, Harvey seemed to be the only one in the library. Even the librarians were gone.
"So Vesper wasn't lying," Scarlet said nonchalantly. "You are going to kill yourself."
Harvey stared at Vesper, his wide eyes fearful.
"Harvey, don't do it," Vesper said, cautiously taking a step forward. "You shouldn't have considered suicide in the first place. Don't be stupid. It's not worth it."
"You wouldn't know," Harvey argued, voice cracking. "You're from here, but I'm not. It would be better for everyone if I were gone. Everyone hates me here and I hate everyone here. I won't ever see my family again, so what's the point? No one cares."
"I care. Scarlet cares," Vesper said. His insides cringed at the words. For all the true Nevers, weakness and emotion was embarrassing. Crying was embarrassing. Love was embarrassing—well, at least for the Eviller Nevers. Saying he cared wasn't easy for Vesper.
"Excuse me? Since when do I care?" Scarlet shrieked from behind Vesper.
"Scarlet," Harvey said loudly. "Scarlet, do me a favor."
Vesper turned to the redhead. "Don't listen to him, Scarlet. He's losing his mind."
"Remember the stymph?" Harvey continued. "Remember how you were running away from it? I remember every detail of that look of pure fear in your face."
"Don't remind me!" Scarlet yelled, cheeks red with embarrassment.
"What if I told Astrophel?"
"She wouldn't believe you," Scarlet scoffed.
Harvey glared. "If you tried to stop me, then that would mean you care."
"I don't!" Scarlet said, horrified.
"Then don't try to stop me," Harvey said slyly. "You let me do what I want, and I'll know you don't care about me."
"Are you blackmailing her?" Vesper asked indignantly. "Scarlet, don't listen to him."
"If you would just leave me be, I bet your mother would be so—" Harvey started to say to Scarlet.
"Don't listen to him!" Vesper screamed over Harvey.
"Why do you care?" Harvey asked.
Vesper fell silent.
"Exactly." Harvey blinked tears away and lifted the knife.
"No!" Vesper lunged for the knife, and Harvey instinctively slashed at him. Scarlet accidentally let loose a gasp and Vesper pulled back. There was an angry, bleeding cut on the back of his palm.
Scarlet grabbed Vesper's shoulder. "Just leave him alone," she said angrily. "It's his choice!"
Vesper yanked himself out of Scarlet's grip, delicately probing his wound. Sparks of pain shot through his arm, and he winced. If a cut like this hurts so much, how painful is it to cut deep into your own wrist?
Harvey stared at the bloody knife in his hand.
"You'll get infected if you cut yourself with that," Scarlet pointed out.
"Vesper, I won't do it," Harvey said, lowering the knife. "You're right, okay?"
Vesper stared. "You won't?"
"No. I promise. Now can you two please give me some privacy?"
Vesper held out his hand. "First, give me the knife."
Harvey didn't move.
"Harvey, give me the knife!" Vesper shook his hand impatiently.
Harvey dug the heel of his hand into his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he said. Then he brought the knife down on his wrist.
Vesper was ready to scream, but then Scarlet grabbed Vesper and clamped a hand over his mouth, holding him in place as they both watched in horror as blood spilled from the deep cut. Harvey's face contorted with pain, but he pushed on. The blade sunk deeper until Harvey looked ready to faint.
Vesper harshly pushed Scarlet away. "I'm getting a teacher," he said. "You stay with him. Staunch the blood flow, or something." Then he was gone.
Scarlet looked at Harvey, who had dropped to his knees. "Great," she muttered, making her way towards him.
"Don't help me," Harvey whispered desperately. "Please—"
Scarlet sighed deeply. "I have to," she said dejectedly. "I want to and I don't want to, but I have to."