Good Curses Evil Read Online Free

hallway after school dismissed, all the kids buzzed and gossiped about the upcoming field trip. Who would be chosen for the Plot? What would it be? But I hardly cared anymore. After all, I had a Plot of my own.
    I ran into Chad on the way down to the kitchen, where we would wash dishes with the other Rogues. Just as we were descending the stone steps leading to the cafeteria, a cat-a-bat landed on my shoulder, digging its claws into my flesh. Cat-a-bats look like cats, only smaller, with bat wings, forked tongues, and elongated fangs. They’re almost always black, except for an occasional freak calico. I was drawing one in my dad’s class the day I got busted.
    Anyway, cat-a-bats were useful for sending villain messages, and I knew this one. She belonged to Master Dreadthorn. Her name was Tabs. Dad sometimes used her to spy on people. I think that’s where the phrase “I’m keeping Tabs on you” came from.
    â€œOuch, Tabs!” I said. “Do you mind? My shoulder is still bleeding from your last visit.”
    Tabs retracted her claws, and I reached up to her fanged mouth, where she held a black envelope delicately between her sharp teeth.
    â€œThis is it,” I told Chad, who just stared in awe.
    I reached into my pocket for a chunk of sheep liver I’d saved from supper just for this purpose and handed it to Tabs. She perched on my shoulder, munching and purring, then licked her paws and flew off.
    â€œAren’t you gonna open it?” Chad asked. Other Rogues were filing past us into the kitchen; some had noticed Tabs and the letter.
    â€œNot until later, when we’re alone,” I said, tucking the letter beneath my velvet cloak.
    I’d never washed dishes so quickly in my life. My speed was only slightly slower than Chad’s, who was an exemplary dishwasher under normal circumstances (it went along with baking and cleaning skills, I suppose). He finished his own chores, then helped me finish up mine. Once Cook—an old, gnarled, one-eyed pirate—approved our work, we were dashing off to our dormitory. We rounded a slippery corner, lost our footing, and nearly tripped over a couple Crooks who were scrubbing slug slime in our hallway. Neither one of them looked older than six or seven.
    â€œWatch it, Crooks!” Chad said, kicking one of them in the shin. The kid bit back tears. I stared at Chad in wonder.
    â€œI don’t think I’ve ever seen you be mean to anyone … ever,” I said. Being cruel kind of came with villain territory. Some of us were meaner than others. But Chad? I didn’t think he had it in him.
    He just shrugged and dashed down the hall into our room. I lingered behind just for a minute, made sure nobody was watching, then handed the kids a couple of Chad’s gingerbread men I had stashed in my cloak pocket.
    â€œThey bleed when you bite their heads,” I said, smiling.
    â€œCool!” the Crooks said.
    The littler one wiped his sleeve across his wet cheeks and smiled at me. Hey, I couldn’t have them crying all over the place. It might make the halls more slippery than the slug slime. I mean, I wasn’t just being nice. Villains are not nice to children. We even had to watch a short film about it last year titled, Silly Villain! Kids Are for Snacks!
    Finally, I reached my dorm and shut the door. Chad was practically bouncing on the top of his bunk bed in anticipation.
    â€œOpen it, Rune!” he said.
    â€œOkay, okay.” I reached into my cloak and pulled out the black envelope. On it, written in silver ink, were two words: Rune Drexler.
    I tore open the envelope and pulled out the parchment. I read as I unfolded it:
    Plot for Rune Drexler, Rogue:
    You are to complete the following tasks within one week , that is seven days, after the night of the harvest moon. Should you fail in even one of these tasks, you will be immediately exiled from Master Dreadthorn’s School for Wayward Villains. If you