UnTwisted

by Elise Allen

  “Loriah!” Odelia cried.

  Within seconds, they’d dropped the game entirely and swarmed Loriah, each one of them jumping in for a hug and bombarding her with questions.

  “When did they let you out?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Are you clear to play?”

  The last question was from Coach Rian, all business.

  “Got a note to prove it,” Loriah said. She handed the coach a scroll. “Turns out I wasn’t cursed.”

  “Seriously?” Zinka asked.

  The question was for Loriah, but she was looking at Flissa.

  Flissa didn’t believe it either. She shook her head.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Flissa said. “We saw you. You must have been cursed. That’s the only way that would’ve happened.”

  “That’d be true if she were a Genpo,” Coach Rian said as she re-rolled the scroll. “But she’s a Mage. The scroll says the nurses did all kinds of tests, and they couldn’t find any traces of a curse. They think it was self-imposed. The result of a nightmare.”

  “You cursed yourself?” Trinni asked in her too-loud voice.

  “Oh yeah,” Dallie said, nodding her bright blue head of curls. “Spell terrors. We talked about that first day, in my section of Magic Lab. It’s not really a curse, though—more like you’re acting out something in a dream. But like a really hard-core majorly bad dream.” She raised three fingers on her right hand and met Loriah’s eyes. “I feel you, sister.”

  Zinka and Trinni, the other Untwisteds on the team, nodded somberly. Hard-core majorly bad dreams were something they clearly all knew well.

  Flissa knew she shouldn’t be excited about the news that Loriah was plagued with dreams so terrible they’d made her hurt herself in her sleep…but she was. Even though her Magic Lab section hadn’t talked about spell terrors the first day, the concept sounded familiar, and Flissa knew she must have read about them somewhere. She wished she’d remembered them sooner, because it made perfect sense. It wasn’t that Zinka cursed her; and it wasn’t that Raya had defied all laws of magic and become an evil rogue kitten. What happened was so much simpler than that: Loriah had seen eyes that looked just like Raya’s, and they gave her a nightmare so horrible she’d had spell terrors. It should have been obvious.

  Loriah blushed red enough to show off the skein of thin scars all over her face. Flissa was sure Loriah liked the support from the other Untwisteds, but she also knew Loriah hated anyone feeling sorry for her. She wasn’t surprised when Loriah quickly changed the subject.

  “So you read the note,” she said to Coach Rian. “Can I play?”

  Coach Rian ended the scrimmage and ran drills so all nine of them could participate. They played until dark, and by the time Flissa collapsed in a carriage to go home, her legs were noodles and her arms jelly. She’d bubblegrammed ahead to let her parents know she was leaving, so when she arrived, her mother and father were waiting in the ballroom, along with a feast from Filliam. Queen Latonya jumped up when Flissa staggered in and wrapped her in a big hug.

  “My poor baby,” she murmured into Flissa’s hair. “You must have been so scared.”

  Her father was on his feet too and wrapped his arm around Flissa to lead her to the table. “Spell terrors,” he said. “Amala gave us her full report. I’m glad that’s all it was.”

  “We told Sara,” her mother said. “She already ate and went up to do homework. I’m sure you’ll want to talk to her about it.”

  Flissa had just shoveled a generous helping of stuffed pheasant and curried brussels sprouts onto her plate, but she froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

  She hadn’t even thought about talking to Sara about it.

  It’s not that she didn’t want to. She would, of course, and now that their mother said something, she was dying to talk to Sara because the spell terrors proved Zinka was innocent.

  Still, this was the first time ever that something major had happened, and talking to Sara about it hadn’t been her first thought. Or even her second. It was strange, and Flissa didn’t know how to feel about it.

  Since her parents already knew the biggest parts of Flissa’s day, she filled them in on the rest of her classes and hoodle as she ate a second helping of dinner, then excused herself and ran upstairs to her and Sara’s room. Knowing Sara was aware of the situation, she dove right in.

  “Spell terrors!” Flissa said as she zoomed through the door. “That’s all it was!”

  Sara was standing by the window, where a bubblegram floated in and popped in front of her face. “I asked Skeed to tell me everything about the Ambassadors meeting today, but he didn’t give a lot of detail,” a female voice said. “He’s definitely leaving stuff out. I know he’d never do anything to the Genpos he knows, but I don’t think he gets that Amala won’t let them pick and choose. I don’t trust her. I don’t trust Anastasia or Zinka either.”

  Flissa frowned. “Who was that?”

  Sara didn’t answer. She climbed onto her bed and settled herself on a pile of laundry, then crossed her legs and took out her own vial of message milk. “This message is for Krystal,” Sara said.

  “Krystal?” Flissa asked. “Galric’s friend Krystal?”

  Sara spoke into the message milk loop. “Thanks for the update. Good work with Skeed. End.”

  The bubble broke off the cone and floated out the window. Only then did Sara turn to Flissa. “What did you say?”

  Flissa scrunched her face quizzically. “Why are you sending bubblegrams to Krystal?” she asked. “I thought you didn’t like her.”

  “We’re good now,” Sara said, just as another bubblegram—this one the size of Sara’s head—flew through the open window and popped in front of her.

  “I can’t actually believe it,” Galric’s voice said, “but the hero thing worked. Nikkolas thinks I’m his cool little brother. He made me have dinner at his house with his family, and they all wanted to touch my scar, which was weird, but he told me all about the Ambassadors meetings, except not about the parts where he was knocked out and floating ’cause he has no idea that’s a thing, which, I mean, no surprise. Everything he’s heard is all about the ball and working together and one Kaloon, but I guess we kinda knew he wouldn’t have a lot to tell us. I’ll try talking to Anastasia tomorrow. And I might have to go to a party next week. Nikkolas said it’s his birthday and he wanted his ‘little hero bro’ there. I know, it’s weird. Anyway, that’s what I’ve got. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Flissa was stunned. “What are you doing?”

  “One sec,” Sara said. She opened her message milk again and sent a bubblegram to Galric, thanking him for the update and saying she’d see him tomorrow, then she turned back to Flissa. “We’re investigating.”

  “Investigating?” Flissa said. “Investigating what?”

  “Amala’s plans for the Ambassadors,” Sara said. Then she tilted her head. “And speaking of Amala, how come you and Zinka lied to her today? You told me last night Loriah and Zinka had drama, but when Amala asked you if anyone was mad at Loriah, you didn’t say anything.”

  “Because it didn’t matter,” Flissa said. “Zinka didn’t curse her. No one cursed Loriah. It was spell terrors, Mother and Father said they told you.”

  “They did,” Sara said. “And it’s great Zinka didn’t curse Loriah because now everything makes more sense. The Ambassadors and Amala are scheming to get rid of Genpos, not Mages.”

  Flissa gaped. “I explained to you why Amala put the Genpos to sleep during the meeting. I read you that part of the book!”

  “You did,” Sara agreed. “And Amala told me about it too.”

  “You talked to Amala about it?”

  Flissa heard her voice jump up an octave, but she couldn’t help it. Nothing Sara was saying made sense.

  “She talked to me about it,” Sara said. “After you and Zinka left the girls’ dorm, she told me she knew what I’d seen, and she exp
lained it to me.” Her eyes darted to the window, where another bubblegram was floating in. “One second.”

  The bubblegram popped in front of Sara’s face. “Your Highness!” a voice chirped, and Flissa immediately recognized it as Jentrie. “I was beyond thrilled to receive your bubblegram and would of course be honored to have lunch with you tomorrow. Maybe I can get your advice on the Kaloonification Ball; I’d love to make it as magnificent as the balls at the palace!”

  Flissa opened her mouth to speak, but Sara held up a finger asking her to wait. Then she sent a chirpy bubblegram to Jentrie, saying she was thrilled too and that she looked forward to tomorrow. When the bubblegram was safely out the window, she turned back to Flissa.

  “Sara, this is ridiculous!” Flissa exploded.

  “No it’s not. Galric, Krystal, and I don’t think Amala’s being honest, so we’re doing something about it.”

  “But—”

  Sara held up her finger again. “I know you’ll say we’re wrong, but that’s why we’re investigating. We’re talking to all the Ambassadors to see what we can find out. If you want to help us and talk to Zinka, that’d be huge. She’s the one we trust the least, for sure.”

  Flissa couldn’t believe Sara was acting so matter-of-fact—as if this wasn’t a huge deal, she wasn’t completely ignoring everything Flissa had told her, and she wasn’t insulting one of Flissa’s friends.

  “Why? Why do you trust her the least?”

  Sara tilted her head to the side, considering. “Okay, we kinda don’t trust Anastasia just as much, but she’s less dangerous because she’s a pig—boar—and her magic isn’t as strong. But Zinka set off the stink spell, so we know she’s not into Kaloonification, and she doesn’t have a lot of close Genpo friends like Skeed.”

  “There are Genpos on the hoodle team!” Flissa said. “She loves Trinni and Odelia!”

  “She was also the first one to shoot magic at the fake Keepers when they marched into the lunch area,” Sara continued as if Flissa hadn’t said anything. “And something’s going on with her, have you noticed? She has these dark circles under her eyes, like she’s keeping a horrible secret and it’s not letting her sleep.”

  Flissa thought about Zinka and her poor battered knuckles and ravaged fingernails. How she curled up by the tree, pouring her heart out while she fought not to cry.

  “Or,” she said icily, “it’s like she spent her whole life in the Twists and saw and did horrible things, and that’s why she can’t sleep. And maybe also because people like the Princess of Kaloon think she’s capable of anything just because she’s an Untwisted.”

  “I’m fine with Untwisteds!” Sara shot back. “Just not Untwisteds who are scheming against Kaloon!”

  “You’re the only one scheming!” Flissa said. “You and Galric and Krystal. Amala and I both told you the truth about what’s going on, and you won’t believe us!”

  “I won’t believe her,” Sara said coolly. “I believe you believe what you read in Amala’s book, but I also believe you’re mistaken.”

  Sara was so wrong, and at the same time so confident, Flissa felt like her head would burst into flames. She stomped to her own side of the room and poured all her fury into creating another solid cream-colored wall to separate herself from her sister.

  It was the one charm she’d officially mastered.

  * * *

  Flissa thought she’d feel better about everything in the morning, but when she woke up, took down her magic, cream-colored wall, and saw her sister tangled up in her usual mix of bed linens and laundry, she only seethed. It felt wonderful to get out of the palace before Sara even woke up, and deliciously satisfying to run up to Loriah’s room and unload about every single thing Sara was doing that made her crazy.

  “Okay,” Loriah said, completely unmoved by Flissa’s diatribe.

  “‘Okay’?!” Flissa echoed. “You had spell terrors from the stuff you went through in the Twists. You think it’s ‘okay’ for Sara to come after Zinka because she doesn’t like it that Zinka can’t sleep?!”

  Loriah made a face. “Unless you told the story wrong, that’s not really what she said.”

  “Whatever, there was the other stuff too,” Flissa admitted. “But still, doesn’t it make you mad?”

  “Nope,” Loriah said. “If that’s what Sara and Galric think, that’s what they think. They can investigate whoever they want. Don’t let it bother you so much.”

  But it did bother her, a lot, and while talking about it with Loriah was infuriating—how did she not see the problem?—just being with Loriah and the rest of her hoodle friends was wonderful, and it was definitely more fun than being with Sara. Flissa stretched the day out as long as possible so she wouldn’t have to go home and see her twin. Of course she stayed for hoodle practice after school, but then Zinka rallied the team to stick around and have dinner in the girls’ dorm kitchen, then a bunch of them stayed even later and sprawled out in the common room to do their homework together. Every assignment took a million times longer because they’d stop to tell stories or laugh about something.

  It felt so easy just being herself with these eight other girls. Flissa was amazed because, aside from Loriah, they were all brand-new friends, but she already felt like she’d known them forever. It was as if instead of one sister, she now had a team of eight.

  Still, none of her hoodle friends were Sara, and even though Flissa was angry with her, by the end of the day she could feel the rope from her heart to her twin’s tugging them back together. She again raced through an evening snack and chat with their parents, then ran up to their room, bubbling over with stories she couldn’t wait to tell.

  She found Sara cross-legged on her bed, one of Flissa’s old history books spread out in front of her, juggling bubblegrams from Galric and Krystal as she read. She didn’t say hello when Flissa came in, she simply fixed her with a stare and asked, “Did you know that the year before Amala married Maldevon, she declared her village a Genpo-free zone, and magically harassed every Genpo who lived there until they left?”

  It turned into a huge fight. It didn’t end until Flissa re-erected the cream-colored wall and went to bed.

  After that, Flissa forced herself to spend as much time away from the palace as possible. She even spent most of the weekend at Maldevon Academy; not only did she have hoodle practice both days, but Zinka had rallied the team to help the Ambassadors prepare for the Kaloonification Ball, which was now three weeks away. When they weren’t practicing, Flissa and her friends joined Zinka, Jentrie, Skeed, and Anastasia on the Athletics field to make posters for the event. Amala was there to supervise, and she even opened up the main building so they could hang the posters all over the school.

  “Sara and Galric would love this,” Flissa told Loriah ruefully as Loriah magically added dancing sparkles to a poster. “All their investigation ‘targets’ in one place.”

  “Invite ’em to come,” Loriah said, and Flissa reminded herself that if she wanted someone to be snide and bitter with her, Loriah was the wrong person to ask.

  Flissa didn’t like avoiding Sara, but since fighting with her was far worse than keeping her distance, she went with the easier option. When the school week started, Flissa didn’t even consider waiting for Sara for breakfast. She got up, washed and dressed in a flash, hugged her parents goodbye, then was out the door and on Balustrade’s back early enough to surprise her friends on dorm with a basket of Filliam’s egg tarts the second they woke up. Unlike Sara, Flissa’s teammates were thrilled to see her, and in the bustle of their morning conversation Flissa could almost forget she was fighting with her sister.

  It got even easier to forget when the school day started, and everyone saw the Kaloonification Ball posters. It made the event seem real, and suddenly it was all anyone could talk about. Flissa constantly heard people buzzing about it in the halls, and she was glad Zinka had made sure the hoodle team was involved. It made Flissa feel special, like she was on the inside of something big an
d important. That was especially true when the ball-posals started—that’s what everyone called it when someone made a big deal out of asking someone else to the ball. They began with Nikkolas, who hijacked morning announcements by jumping onto the stairs of the main building along with four of his completion-year friends. They sang a cappella in front of the whole school, even though Nikkolas couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, and at the end of the song Nikkolas got down on his knees, threw out his arms, and in a warbling tenor asked Zinka to go to the ball with him. The whole school applauded when she said yes.

  “See?” Flissa whispered to Sara that day in Magic Lab. “Zinka’s going to the ball with Nikkolas, a Genpo. She’s not scheming against them.”

  “Maybe not,” Sara said while magically twirling a lead ball high in the air. “Or maybe she just said yes to cover up her real plans.”

  Flissa didn’t even bother arguing. She huffed and turned back to her own lead ball, which she couldn’t budge from the floor.

  After Nikkolas, the ball-posals came fast and furious—people and animals asking each other to the ball with songs, dance routines, bubblegrams that magically exploded into fireworks, brightening bugs spelling out the question in midair…Flissa had never experienced anything like it before. She’d been to all kinds of royal balls as Princess Flissara, but people didn’t really ask one another to those. Everyone with a title just showed up with their families. Now everyone walked around school on pins and needles, either planning their own ball-posal, or eagerly awaiting the next one, and wondering if it would be for them.

  Only Loriah seemed immune to the excitement, until that weekend, when the team had their first hoodle match against a team from the kingdom of Winterglen. When the whistle blew for halftime, Loriah tried to run off the field, but then a flute tooted, and her path was blocked by a single rose that sprouted up from the ground and grew as high as Loriah’s chest. Flissa looked around to see who did the magic, and found a third-year with long red curls holding up a sign that read Loriah, will you go to the ball with me?