There is an uneasiness that remains after your best friend tries to kill you.
But as Agatha gazed out at her and Sophieâs golden statues, towering over the sun-speckled square, she swallowed it away.
âI donât know why it has to be a musical,â she said, sneezing from the carnations on her pink dress.
âNo sweating in your costumes!â Sophie barked at a boy struggling in a ferocious plaster dog head, while the girl roped to him stumbled around in her own cuddly dog head. Sophie caught two boys labeled Chaddick and Ravan trying to swap outfits. âNo switching schools either!â
âBut I want to be an Ever!â Ravan groused, and pulled at his dumpy black tunic.
âMy wig itches,â mewled Beatrix, clawing her blond hairpiece.
âMummy wonât know itâs me,â whined a boy in the School Masterâs shiny silver mask.
âAND NO SULKING ABOUT PARTS!â Sophie boomed, branding Dot on the blacksmithâs daughter before stuffing two chocolate ice pops in her hands. âYou need to gain twenty pounds by next week.â
âYou said itâd be small,â Agatha said, eyeing a boy teetering on a ladder as he painted two familiar green eyes on the massive theater marquee. âSomething tasteful for the anniversary.â
âIs every boy in this town a tenor?â Sophie squawked, inspecting the males with these very same eyes. âSurely someoneâs voice has changed? Surely someone can play Tedros, the most handsome, charming prince in theââ
She turned to find red-haired, bucktoothed Radley in tight breeches, puffing his chest. Sophie gagged and stamped him Hort.
âThis doesnât seem small,â Agatha said, louder, watching two girls pull the canvas off a ticket booth with twenty neon Sophie faces silk-screened across it. âAnd it doesnât seem tastefââ
âLights!â Sophie called to two boys suspended from ropesâ
Agatha spun from the blinding detonation. Through fingers, she peeked up at the velvet curtain behind them, embedded with a thousand white-hot bulbs spelling out:
CURSES! The Musical
Starring, Written, Directed, and Produced by Sophie
âIs this too dull for the finale?â Sophie said, whirling to Agatha in a midnight-blue ballgown with delicate gold leaves, a ruby pendant around her neck, and a tiara of blue orchids. âThat reminds me. Can you sing harmony?â
Agatha swelled like a tick. âHave you lost your mind! You said itâd be a tribute to the kidnapped children, not some fairground burlesque! I canât act, I canât sing, and here we are having a dress rehearsal for a vanity show that doesnât even have a scripâ What is THAT?â
She pointed at the sash of red crystals across Sophieâs dress.
Sophie stared at her. âYou donât expect me to tell our story as it happened, do you?â
Agatha scowled.
âOh, Agatha, if we donât celebrate ourselves, who else will?â Sophie moaned, looking out at the giant amphitheater. âWeâre the Gavaldon Curse Breakers! The School Master Slayers! Larger than life! Greater than legend! So whereâs our palace? Whereâs our slaves? On the anniversary of our kidnapping from this odious town, they should adore us! They should worship us! They should bow down instead of trolling around with fat, badly dressed widows!â
Her voice thundered across empty wooden seats. She turned to find her friend studying her.
âThe Elders gave him permission, didnât they,â said Agatha.
Sophieâs face darkened. She spun quickly and started handing sheet music to the cast.
âWhen is it?â Agatha asked.
Sophie didnât answer.
âSophie, when is it?â
âThe day after the show,â Sophie said, sprucing the garlands on a giant altar set piece. âBut that might change once they see the encore.â
âWhy? Whatâs in the encore?â
âIâm fine about it, Aggie. Iâve made my peace.â
âSophie. Whatâs in the encore.â
âHeâs a grown man. Free to make his own decisions.â
âAnd this show has nothing to do with trying to stop your fatherâs wedding.â