Twinchantment

by Elise Allen

  Raya’s magic had retaken Flissa’s body and she’d been dragged upright again. Frozen in place, she watched the tears run down Ponytail’s cheeks. For the first time, she noticed the scars all over the other girl’s skin. Deep scratches from claws or thorns, a thick uneven gouge on her leg that looked like it came from a serrated knife, and a long line of puckered and burned skin that stretched across her collarbone. Flissa tried to fit this image with the innocent, doll-like child Flissa had seen romping through the grass with her friend.

  It was almost impossible.

  “I’m sorry,” Flissa said.

  Ponytail sniffled, big and wet. “I didn’t want that to happen to her. Or her family. They were always so nice to me.” She tried to rub away her tears with her forearm but only smeared them across her unwashed face. “She was my best friend.”

  “I know,” Flissa said. “I could tell.”

  Flissa wished she could offer more comfort to the girl, maybe even put an arm around her, but she wasn’t sure she could fight Raya’s magic long enough to make it work.

  She did have something to offer, though, Flissa realized. She could open up and share something that might make the girl feel better…but the girl could also use the information against her. Flissa didn’t think Ponytail would do that, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Flissa’s frozen fingers itched for her locket. More than anything she wanted to open it up and flip the coin to help her decide…but she had to make this choice for herself.

  “I did the same thing,” Flissa offered. “You all thought my sister attacked your friend with the nose ring, but that was me. And I didn’t try to do it. I didn’t even want to do it. I was just so mad, I didn’t have control.”

  Ponytail looked up at her, her face blotchy from tears but her eyes curious. Flissa took a deep breath and went on.

  “I was so scared when I saw what you did,” Flissa admitted. “It made me hate magic more than ever. But now I know what it feels like. For the first time…I understand what happened to you that day.”

  Ponytail snorted ruefully. “So I guess we both belong in the Twists.”

  “Maybe,” Flissa admitted. “Or maybe no one does. Maybe if magic was allowed in Kaloon, mages wouldn’t have to fight so hard to keep it in. And then it wouldn’t be so hard to control when it came out.”

  “Sure,” Ponytail agreed. “But that’s not how things work.”

  “It can be,” Flissa said. “My sister and I want to change things in Kaloon. We want to get rid of the Twists, and we want to take the kingdom back from the Keepers. I don’t know if we’ll succeed, but we’ll never have a chance if you turn us in.”

  Ponytail narrowed her eyes. Flissa saw hope there but also doubt, and she wished there were something else she could do to earn the girl’s trust.

  Only one idea came to mind. She looked around, then lowered her voice and did something she’d never done before.

  She introduced herself.

  “My name is Flissa.”

  Ponytail blinked. “Half of Flissara, I get it.” She gave a half smile. “I’m Loriah. And I’ll keep your secret.”

  Flissa felt a triumphant grin split her face. Loriah rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited. Whatever you’re doing, it’s probably a suicide mission, so I’m not sticking my neck out. I’ll keep my mouth shut, that’s it. I can’t do anything about Raya’s spell—you’re standing there like a board, so you know it’s still on you. It’ll make you walk right to Kravein, and I have no clue how you’ll get away from him…but I won’t get in your way.”

  “Thank you!” Flissa cried. She was so grateful she dove down for a hug, but it was like swimming upstream against a powerful current, and a single shove from Loriah sent her right back into her upright, head-back, cemented-arms stance.

  Loriah got to her feet and leaned in close. “I don’t do hugs,” she said. “And I don’t do favors. So if you get out of this, you’d better do what you promised.”

  The words were tough, but Flissa could see Loriah’s half smile.

  She couldn’t help but smile back.

  Sara had tried looking for Dorinda as Black Boot led her through the marketplace, but it was impossible. Not only was she unable to turn her head, but people were constantly right in front of her, blocking her view, or jostling into her. Someone even yanked off her velvet pouch, though she had no idea when it happened, and Black Boot was continually pulling her by the arm to keep her on her feet.

  Even still, for all the shoving and the yelling and the being-held-captive-ing, there was something…well…magical about the marketplace. It teemed with vendors and stalls—some dilapidated tents, some mini palaces that shot off fireworks—and each one offered something more impossible than the next. A six-fingered man made spun sugar shaped like unicorns out of thin air. A woman transformed her long black curls and sparkling blue gown into a cap of green straight hair and a bright pink tunic and tights. A crowd of people cheered for two mages in a boxing ring, each of whom controlled a battling dragon made of sparking red-and-orange light.

  Sara also saw flashes of yellow-robed mages in the crowd. Keepers of the Light, watching over everything. Sara remembered what Katya had said, that Keepers also roamed the Twists without their robes, which meant they could be anywhere. She imagined Flissa’s voice in her ear, and she tried her best to pull her head farther back into her hood.

  For a second, Sara wondered which would be worse, getting turned over to Kravein, or being spotted by the Keepers. Raya said Kravein’s magical tests were terrible, but Galric had told her the Keepers’ tests were too. And while Kravein might torture Sara, Flissa, Galric, Primka, and Nitpick horribly, the Keepers would probably extend their vengeance and punish her parents, and Katya…maybe even Mitzi and everyone else they loved in the palace.

  Kravein was probably the better deal…though to be honest, Sara hoped she and her friends would find a way to escape them all.

  Sara jumped as something lit on her arm. Raya’s magic snapped her back into position almost immediately, but Sara cast her eyes down as she walked and saw a tiny glowing girl in a green tunic and tights, with silvery wings and eyes and bright red hair. The fairy shook out her hair, smiled, and waved to Sara, then flew back off into the crowd.

  “A fairy!” Sara squealed. “I can’t believe it—it’s a fairy!”

  Next to her, Black Boot grunted. “So what? They’re everywhere.”

  Sara’s heart jumped. These were the first words Black Boot had spoken to her. If she could keep him talking, maybe she could convince him to help her instead of taking her to Kravein. Maybe he’d even help her find Dorinda!

  “So…” Sara said, searching desperately for a topic he might find fascinating. “There’s a ton of people around. What happened to the Rule of Three?”

  “Doesn’t hold in the marketplace.”

  He didn’t elaborate. Sara looked around for inspiration.

  Not far off, a group of children were playing some kind of game, running around waving brightly colored ribbons. A couple of adults looked on indulgently. It almost looked like a party, which was weird after all the terror Sara had experienced here so far. Could some exiles be happy in the Twists? Or were they happy in spite of them?

  A small child squealed, delighted, as he toddled across her path and into his mother’s arms, and Sara gasped as she realized he might not be an exile at all. The Twists had been around for generations—long enough that some people were probably born there, and never knew Kaloon at all. What could that possibly be like?

  “A lot of kids around,” she said, trying again to engage her guard. “Seems like kind of a weird place for kids, right? I mean, with people magically dragging other people off to evil dark mages and all.”

  Sara winced. She was usually much better at this kind of thing. Clearly the Road to Doom wasn’t her best venue for brilliant party banter.

  Black Boot shrugged. “Same deal. No Rule of Three. Lots of people can get together. Kids too.”
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  Aaaand he was done again, while Sara’s magically controlled body still led her jerkily toward Kravein.

  “I know it’s night,” she tried again, “but it’s so bright here.” She rolled her eyes up so she could see the sky, which was full of tiny lights—thousands of them—so bright it hurt to look at them. Each light shone for several moments, then flickered off again, but there were so many that the light in the marketplace remained steady. “Are the lights magic?”

  “Magical creatures,” harrumphed Black Boot, his eyes still staring dead ahead. “Brightening bugs. Mages let them out at night to light up the square.”

  More silence after that. Sara waited a moment, then tried to ask if he knew any good glassblowers in the marketplace—possibly one with raven hair and one glass eye—but he cut her off the second she made a sound. “No more talking,” he said. “Gives me a headache.”

  So much for Black Boot becoming an ally. Sara would clearly have to rely on herself to find a way out. She mused that it was probably good she didn’t have to think about controlling her body. It freed her up to concentrate solely on a brilliant plan to escape. She tuned out everything else and fled into the deepest recesses of her mind to scheme.

  “We’re here,” Black Boot said several minutes later. “Kravein’s tent.”

  Sara came back from the deepest recesses of her mind…with absolutely no ideas whatsoever.

  Black Boot nodded ahead of them, and she followed his gaze.

  She blinked, disoriented.

  It was like she’d stepped back into the palace.

  The “tent” was a sparkling golden pavilion encrusted in jewels, so enormous that the entire throne room could have fit underneath. The ground beneath it was marble, but it looked like the starry sky, with constellations slowly moving around one another in a languid dance. It was filled with people and animals—too many to take in with a single glance. They laughed and talked in groups, and Sara saw many of them completely change their hair or clothes mid-conversation, with just a wisp of colored smoke or some other magical signature Sara couldn’t see or hear or smell to signal it.

  Sara jumped and lost her footing when she heard a loud growl, lower and fiercer than Raya’s. She fell into Black Boot, who propped her back up. “Kravein’s pet dragons,” he said by way of explanation. “He brought two of them tonight.”

  She followed his gaze to a cage. Two dragons, just like the ones that had chased them earlier, were muzzled and chained inside. They thrashed against the bars and roared. Sara hated to see them locked up, but would rather someone free them far away from her.

  “Looks like he’s feeding them tonight,” Black Boot said.

  He pointed to another cage hanging from a post. It looked like a glass case, teeming with tiny, glowing winged boys and girls. Sara recognized them immediately. “Fairies!” she gasped.

  “Uh-huh,” Black Boot said. “Told you they were everywhere. Good dragon food.”

  Sara’s stomach turned as she watched the fairies fly around furiously, looking for an escape. Then she gasped. Her fairy—the beautiful glowing girl with silvery wings and bright red hair—was in the cage too. Unlike the others, she stayed perfectly still, pressed up against the glass and staring at the dragons. Tiny rainbow tears pooled at the corners of her silvery eyes.

  Sara’s eyes welled up too. Suddenly she wasn’t scared of Kravein—she was furious with him. She glared around the tent, but he wasn’t hard to find. The mage sat on a gilded throne lined with plush red pillows. It floated in the air, and just like in her parents’ throne room, people gathered on either side, men and women eager to gain favor and get closer to their leader.

  Then one of them turned her way, and Sara’s breath stopped.

  Katya had been right. Keepers in the Twists didn’t always give themselves away by wearing yellow robes. Sometimes they gave themselves away by having a face like a fist, pockmarked and swollen and as craggy as an orange with a loose, bumpy peel.

  It was Rouen. And he was staring right at her.

  Sara quickly turned away and shrank further into her hood, but it was too late. Rouen had seen her. She knew he had.

  Then Raya strode into the tent and moved in front of Kravein’s throne. She gracefully bowed her head. “Presents from the field.”

  Raya’s tail flicked. Sara saw blue sparks dance over her body; then it moved of its own volition to kneel in front of Kravein. Galric and Flissa moved into line to kneel next to her, and Nose Ring set down Nitpick and Primka to finish the row.

  Raya gave them all a lethal feline grin. “Don’t do anything foolish when I remove the spell. There’s far more magical power under this tent than you can possibly imagine. It would be a shame to make it all the way here only to be rent to pieces.”

  Blue sparks flew, and Sara’s shoulders slumped blissfully as the magical chain holding her upright gave way. She saw the same thing happen to Galric and Flissa, and the box, leash, and collar that had been confining Nitpick disappeared. He meowed loudly, and jumped into Galric’s arms.

  “Mmmm-MMMMPH!” Primka wailed through a closed beak.

  Raya gave a growling chuckle. “Ah, yes, my bite-sized little friend. I believe you’re fine just the way you are. Besides, I’m hoping Kravein will let me keep you. Songbird’s my favorite snack.”

  The lion licked her chops. Primka continued to scream through her closed beak, and rocked back and forth as she tried in vain to move her wings.

  Though the magic had released Sara, her skin prickled with nerves. Without getting anyone’s attention, she tried to lean forward and catch Flissa’s eye, to warn her about Rouen. It was hard, but that was okay—it meant Flissa’s hood hung far over her face, keeping it in shadow. Rouen had definitely seen Sara, so he knew Princess Flissara was in the Twists, but at least he wouldn’t know they were twins.

  On his throne, Kravein looked them over appraisingly. “Thank you, my dear huntress. You never cease to amaze,” he said. “I look forward to testing them all. In the meantime, perhaps a special treat as a reward?”

  He flicked a hand and one of his followers raced to the fairy cage. He opened the door for just an instant—enough time for a single bright blue fairy boy to frantically fly out.

  Raya’s haunches flexed, preparing to pounce. Sara felt dizzy with horror, but she wouldn’t give in to despair. While everyone else in the tent looked on, transfixed, as Raya chased her meal, Sara reached out and squeezed Flissa’s hand. When Flissa looked her way, Sara darted her eyes toward Rouen, to warn her.

  It was a bad idea.

  Flissa turned…and gasped out loud. Rouen’s eyes immediately flickered to them. The pair of them. And despite the cover of their hoods, his eyes narrowed and Sara knew he had seen them both.

  It was all over. Any second now, Rouen would step forward and take them away. They were already in the Twists, but Sara was sure he wouldn’t just leave them here to punish them. She and Flissa were princesses. If the Keepers were planning a second Dark Magic Uprising, she and her sister had just saved them the trouble. The Keepers would make them an example and use them to take down the entire royal family.

  Sara thought about the pit of Forever Flames beneath the castle, and the box where the Keepers had held Galric as a boy.

  Is that what would happen to her and Flissa? To all of them?

  Thunderous applause and cheers echoed through the tent. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raya bow, triumphant, before slinking to Kravein’s side. Inside the fairy cage, the girl with the red hair had collapsed down to the floor, where she sobbed, her head in her hands.

  Sara’s throat closed as she realized this might be the last thing she’d see before the Keepers locked her away forever. Her sister and friends, trapped in the Twists, surrounded by powerful and cruel mages, at least one traitorous Keeper of the Light, and a crush of innocent fairies doomed to become dragon food.

  Their whole mission had been in vain. They wouldn’t save their mother, they wouldn’t save their fat
her, and they wouldn’t save themselves. They had accomplished nothing.

  Sara thought that; then her heart thumped heavily.

  No.

  It couldn’t be for nothing. They’d gone through too much. She had to do something to make things better, even if it was small.

  She looked at the cage of fairies, the redheaded girl sobbing.

  That fairy was not going to be eaten by a dragon. Not if Sara could help it. She needed to act quickly, before anyone noticed and stopped her. She summoned all her will, then ran and lunged for the fairy-cage door.

  In her mind, she saw herself grabbing and opening it and freeing every fairy inside.

  In reality, she tripped. Her legs tangled up like always, and she fell into the cage post, knocking it to the ground. She heard a crash; then she slammed to the ground herself, her head banging against the hard marble floor.

  Everything went swimmy. Then she had the strangest sensation…she thought she smelled lavender. A whole field of lavender. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a rush of fairies zooming out of the smashed-open cage. Sara smiled and shut her eyes.

  Time passed. At least, Sara thought it did. She wasn’t sure. She thought she maybe heard noises, voices, but mostly everything was black and thick with silence.

  “Princess. Princess.”

  The gravelly voice was oddly familiar, and it hissed in her ear. Then she heard other sounds too—chaotic sounds. People screaming and things breaking, but none of it made any sense.

  Then something hideous attacked her nostrils, and she bolted upright.

  “Smelling salts,” Rouen explained, tucking the tiny vial into his cloak.

  Rouen. Rouen was right in front of her, in her face. She scrambled to get away, but he took her hand.

  “The fairies,” Rouen explained. “You saved them. And in return they bought you time. They released their fairy flame on the whole tent. Your mage friend and I were the only ones who reacted quickly enough to shield our eyes—and yours.”