by Elise Allen
Sara vaguely heard all the other students gasp and mutter, but nothing was as powerful as the flow between herself and Flissa. Sara was captain of the boat and their combined power was the wind in its sails, bearing them along so fast she could only steer as it whisked them along faster and faster. She carved more detail into the double sculpture as it grew bigger and bigger, impossibly filling up the center of the grass circle and knocking over the other, punier clay sculptures until it rose as high as Amala. Then the two mouths on either side of the clay opened in unison and sang out a single, beautiful note…
Which cut off when the faces exploded into a massive spatter of wet-clay shrapnel.
Everyone screamed, and Sara instantly snapped back to herself. The clay was everywhere, splashed across people’s faces and over their clothes. Sara felt it weighing down her curls, and when she looked down at her blue dress it was spattered all over in gray.
“I’m sorry,” Flissa said. She looked dazed and even more clay-spattered than Sara. “I didn’t think it would get so…”
“Now I see,” Amala said.
She turned away, and Sara’s cheeks burned because Amala didn’t see. She didn’t see at all. Sara was good at magic, good on her own, just like she’d always been good at meeting people on her own, except now that she had the chance to really be on her own, nothing was working at all.
When the bell rang, Sara strode out of the room as fast as she could. She ignored Flissa calling her name behind her.
She’d started the class thinking Flissa might save her, but now she knew the truth. With or without her sister at her side, Maldevon Academy was a complete disaster.
“I wish Amala hadn’t put Sara on the spot like that,” Flissa said. She and Zinka had their next class, Athletics, together, so they walked side by side down the hall. Flissa kept an eye out for her sister, but Sara had run out of Magic Lab and slipped into the crowd so quickly, Flissa had lost sight of her right away.
“What else was Amala gonna do?” Zinka asked. “Sara flaked on the assignment.”
“She didn’t flake exactly,” Flissa said. “It’s like she said. She just got distracted.” Flissa remembered what had distracted Sara too—her feeling that Zinka was the one who set off the stink spell that morning—but she wasn’t going to share that with Zinka. “I just think Amala set Sara up for everyone to gang up on her. It’s not right. The whole point of Maldevon Academy is unity.”
“I don’t know,” Zinka said with a snort. “Everyone seemed pretty united when they were screaming at your exploding giant clay heads.”
Flissa stared at her, openmouthed and apparently with more disdain than she realized because when Zinka turned her way, she laughed and held her hands up in surrender. “Whoa! Not an insult. It’s a compliment. Don’t send me to the royal dungeons.”
“We don’t have royal dungeons,” Flissa said. “And how exactly is that a compliment?”
“Are you kidding?” Zinka asked. “Did you see my little clay cat? I mean, it was good—”
“Best in the class,” Flissa noted.
Without breaking stride, Zinka did a flourish with her hand and bowed. “Yes. Thank you. But it didn’t grow into a lion and roar. You and your sister have skills. I wouldn’t want to go against you in a fight—at least not when you’re together.”
“We’re always together,” Flissa said automatically. Then she blushed as she realized how ridiculous that sounded when Sara was nowhere in sight.
She and Zinka had reached the main atrium. The melted-arched doors to the back fields had stretched wider since this morning, which meant the staircase leading down from them now tapered drastically. The fresh air felt glorious on Flissa’s face, and she tipped her head back to bask in the sun. It energized her, and she was glad she had Athletics next; every muscle in her body came to life in the crisp fall air, and all she wanted to do was run.
“Race you to class,” Zinka said.
Flissa smiled. It was like Zinka had read her mind. “I would, but I’d have to look at the map. I don’t know where we’re going.”
“I do,” Zinka said. “And you won’t beat me, so you may as well follow.”
Zinka sprinted off, lightning-fast. Flissa gave chase, her braid bouncing up and down as she followed Zinka over the mottled pattern of green-and-orange grass, around a topiary garden whose naturally growing elephants raised their leafy trunks and trumpeted as they ran by, and past the jousting fields, where a bunch of older kids roughhoused with a pack of young cheetahs and tigers. Zinka was taller than Flissa and had a longer stride, but Flissa pumped her arms to stay just behind her—only far enough back for Zinka to navigate the way. As they ran, Flissa and Zinka blew past several other students who seemed to be heading in the same direction, and Flissa knew they’d nearly reached their destination when she saw a group of ten students up ahead. They were gathered in loose bunches around a short man with a bald head and orange mustache and beard. He wore teachers’ robes.
“Zinka!” Flissa panted.
Without breaking stride, Zinka turned.
Flissa grinned. “See you in class.”
Flissa bore down with everything she had and tore past Zinka. The taller girl tried to put on a burst of speed of her own, but Flissa had surprised her and it was too late. A nanosecond before Zinka, Flissa thumped a foot down next to the teacher, then tumbled to the grass. “I win!” she crowed between panting breaths.
Next to her, Zinka rested her hands on her bent legs and gulped in air. “Only because you cheated,” she said. “I thought you were running as fast as you could go.”
She held a hand out to Flissa, who grabbed it.
“That’s not me cheating, that’s you underestimating me,” Flissa noted as Zinka helped her to her feet. “You shouldn’t do that. Next time I might throw you in the royal dungeons.”
“See, and you always told me there were no royal dungeons,” said another girl as she linked her arm through Flissa’s. The girl was petite, with hair curled into perfect long ringlets. The waist of her dress was cinched in a style Flissa had always found completely impractical and absurd, and the dress itself was the exact same shade of sunshine yellow as the Keepers’ robes. Clearly she didn’t have a Primka to tell her this was in poor form.
“Jentrie,” Flissa blurted as the girl’s name popped into her head. She’d seen her at the palace many times, but she didn’t think they were exactly on arm-linking terms. Maybe she’d been closer with Sara’s half of Princess Flissara.
“Yes, it’s so good to see you!” Jentrie squeezed Flissa’s arm within hers, then walked a few steps with her, steering her away from Zinka. Flissa turned back to try to include her, but Zinka had her arms folded and was shaking her head.
Jentrie bent her head close to Flissa’s. “Are you as miserable here as I am?”
Flissa didn’t know how to answer. Was Jentrie nervous about meeting new people too?
Then the bell to start class rang, and the teacher clapped his hands. “Well,” he said, “that’s the bell, and it looks like we’re all here…so how about we start class, huh?”
He looked at the students expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. The man seemed like an odd choice for an Athletics instructor, in that he didn’t look terribly athletic. He had a bit of a potbelly that pooched out the front of his robes, and even though the temperature was mild and he wasn’t running around, sweat ringed his bald head. Flissa supposed that could be from nerves rather than exertion, but was he really that intimidated by a small group of first-, second-, and third-years?
He still hadn’t continued his thought. He looked from student to student, waiting for someone to answer his not-really-a-question.
“Yes,” Flissa said. “Starting class would be wonderful.”
He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Your Highness.” He placed his palms together and gave a slight bow in her direction, which was completely unnecessary and made Jentrie roll her eyes.
The teacher clapped again
. “I’m Teacher Lazando, and this is Athletics. We have Athletics here at Maldevon Academy because it puts the ‘cool’ in ‘school.’”
He smiled and nodded, clearly proud of his joke and eager for someone to appreciate it. He looked from student to student, waiting for someone to laugh.
No one did.
“‘Cool’ in ‘school,’” Flissa finally said, forcing an appreciative chuckle. “That’s funny.”
Jentrie bumped Flissa with her hip and shot her a what are you doing? look, while Lazando gave another one of his mini bows with his hands pressed together. People whispered and giggled.
Jentrie was probably right; she should have kept her mouth shut.
“Now let’s get those muscles moving and play Dodge ’Em!” Teacher Lazando said.
Most of the class groaned, but Flissa smiled. She’d never played Dodge ’Em, but getting her muscles moving sounded like heaven.
“Actually, Teacher Lazando,” Jentrie said, “I won’t be playing. My parents are Duke Renmar and Duchess Eliza, who honestly didn’t want me coming here in the first place and definitely wouldn’t approve of me running around on a field dodging things, especially in this dress. So I’ll be sitting out. I’m sure the princess feels the same way.”
Flissa was stunned, and even more so when Jentrie gave Flissa a knowing look and squeezed her arm tighter. Flissa shook her head and removed herself from Jentrie’s grasp.
“Actually, no,” she said. “I’m happy to play. It sounds like fun.”
Groans rose up from the group. Apparently it didn’t sound fun to anyone but Flissa. Jentrie’s jaw tightened and she glared, but what was Flissa supposed to do? Did Jentrie really think she’d take her side and sit out class?
“You can wait on the bleachers, Jentrie,” Teacher Lazando said. “Just know this is a class, so if you don’t participate, I’ll need you to spend the block writing me an essay about why you made that choice. If you opt out of that, I’ll have to give you detention. So you decide on that, and meanwhile…we’ll start picking teams!”
He said it with a rousing fist pump, like he expected everyone to cheer. No one did.
“Okay, team captains,” he continued. “Skeed and Your Royal Highness Princess Flissa, step right up.”
Teacher Lazando gave a bow as Flissa and the other captain, Skeed, the boy with glasses and spiky purple hair from her History of Kaloon class, stepped forward. Sara would have had no problem standing in front of everyone, but Flissa felt exposed. She wanted to stare at the ground, but she knew her mother wouldn’t approve of that. Flissa was supposed to set an example and be welcoming, so she forced herself to look at all the other students and try to catch their eyes. Most of them just looked away.
Skeed had first pick and chose Zinka, while Flissa picked Jentrie. She thought that might make things better between them and that getting picked first might make Jentrie excited about playing the game.
“Thank you, Princess Flissa, for your faith in me,” Jentrie said coolly, “but like I said, I’m sitting out.”
Flissa blushed and moved on to her next choice. She felt bad that she didn’t know anyone’s name. She knew some faces—either from the palace or royal events or her trips around the kingdom—but without the names all she could do was point and say “You” each time she picked someone. Each time she did it, she felt like she was letting the person down, and they were insulted their princess had no idea who they were.
Finally everyone was divvied up between the two teams. Then Teacher Lazando waved an arm, and Flissa heard a swarm of bees buzzing. When the sound faded, she and the rest of her team wore thin-knit forest-green vests over their clothes, while the other team wore similar vests in blue—the colors of Maldevon Academy, and a way to tell the two teams apart.
“Here we go!” Teacher Lazando shouted.
He threw his arms in the air. More buzzing, then six round balls appeared and bounced onto the field. The game was on, and all Flissa’s worries melted away. She was on a field, ready to play; that meant she was home. As she raced to grab a ball she listened to Teacher Lazando shout out the rules: hit someone from the other team with a ball and they’re out, last person standing wins for their team. No hitting in the head, catch a ball before it bounces and you get the thrower out, deflect a ball with another ball and you’re safe.
Flissa was the first to snatch a ball, and instantly hurled it at Skeed, thwacking him in the leg. The second she looked up, she spotted another ball zooming toward one of her teammates, who wasn’t paying attention. “Look out!” Flissa cried. She sprinted across the field, but Zinka got there first. She lifted Flissa’s shocked teammate off her feet so that the ball hit the girl’s backside.
Flissa smiled. “Nice move.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay, that’s legal this time and Larissa’s out,” Teacher Lazando shouted from the sidelines, “but from now on no picking people up and smacking them into the ball. Didn’t really think I’d have to say that explicitly, but lesson learned. Play on!”
Flissa saw a ball on the ground and raced for it. A second before she arrived, Zinka somersaulted in front of her. She grabbed the ball midroll, then grinned wickedly at Flissa.
“Better run, Princess.”
Flissa did. She serpentined between members of Zinka’s team so Zinka couldn’t hurl her ball at Flissa without risking someone on her own side.
Zinka wasn’t the only one after Flissa. Balls zoomed around in every direction, and it seemed like everyone’s first priority was knocking the princess out of the game. That was okay; Flissa loved the challenge. She did a handspring over one ball and a diving tumble under another. She saw a blue-vested boy throw a lobbing arc and raced top speed, then jumped as high as she could to snatch it in midair.
“Out!” Teacher Lazando pointed to the boy who threw the ball, but Flissa had already wheeled to face her next threat. She wielded the ball in her hands like a shield, deflecting one, two, three other balls before they could hit her, knocking them down by her feet. She grinned down at the balls. “Thanks for the ammunition, blue team!”
The blue team ran, but Flissa’s aim was excellent. Wham-wham-wham-wham! Every ball hit its mark.
While Flissa decimated the blue team, Zinka did the same to the green. Before long, only the two of them were left on the field. They each had a ball, with two others at their feet. They stood facing one another, Zinka towering over Flissa.
“This is where you go down, Princess.”
“That is where you’re mistaken, Zinka.”
Flissa was patient. She wouldn’t move until the time was right. They stood for what felt like an eternity, staring into each other’s eyes, both swaying to stay light on their feet. Then Zinka faked a throw, palmed the ball, and instantly threw it to where Flissa would have lunged to get away, but Flissa hadn’t taken the bait. While Zinka was hurling all her weight into a bullet-throw doomed to miss, Flissa gently lobbed her own ball…which hit Zinka in the hip.
“WINNER!” cried Teacher Lazando, throwing his arms in the air. “Princess Flissa!”
The bell in the main building chimed. The period was over; they had five minutes before their next class.
“Thank you, everyone!” Teacher Lazando called out as they streamed away from the field. “Great class today, right? And, Jentrie, since you didn’t write your essay, expect a scroll—I look forward to seeing you in after-school detention.”
Flissa looked for Skeed, her opposing team captain, to tell him good game, but he was already long gone. She saw him running toward the main building, clearly eager to get to his next class on time.
Jentrie bobbed up to Flissa with a huge smile on her face and pulled Flissa close, then she hissed in her ear. “You shouldn’t hang out with the Untwisteds. They might act like your friends, but they hate everyone who got to live in Kaloon, even Mages like you.”
When Jentrie pulled away, her smile was big as ever, and she even waggled her fingers at Zinka as they passed.
/> “She’s weird,” Zinka said when Jentrie walked off, then she clapped a hand on Flissa’s shoulder. “Cool game, though. You should try out for hoodle with me after school today.”
Before Flissa could respond, Teacher Lazando was at her elbow, his hands already pressed together for that little bow he couldn’t stop doing around her. “Princess Flissa,” he said, “Your Highness…may I have a word?”
“Find me at lunch,” Zinka said. “Or I’ll find you.”
She loped off, leaving Flissa with Teacher Lazando, who rolled forward expectantly on his toes and tapped his still-tented fingers together. “I won’t lie,” he said. “It’s a real honor meeting you.”
Flissa blushed. Again. “Honestly…I’m just another stu-dent. I’m really not looking for any kind of special treatment.”
“Have you had Ethics class yet?” Teacher Lazando asked.
Flissa furrowed her brow. Did he think she was being unethical? “Um…no. No, I have that next.”
“Ah. Well, when you do, you’ll meet my brother. He’s also named Lazando, because my parents weren’t as clever as yours and didn’t give us two names we could push together.”
Teacher Lazando grinned as if he’d just told Flissa a big secret, but if he had, Flissa didn’t get it…until suddenly it clicked and she understood. “Ohhh,” she said. “You and your brother are identical twins. And you…you pretended to be the same person?”
“Our entire lives,” he said. He had stopped bouncing on his toes. His voice was somber now, and in it Flissa felt the weight of every one of those years. “It’s how we were raised. It was the only way my parents knew to keep us and our family out of the Twists. Not just them; we didn’t have a better answer either. We stayed one Lazando even after our parents passed away. Only one of us could go to their funerals, of course.”