Twinchantment

by Elise Allen

  They walked into Katya’s house and found Flissa already standing behind Katya’s chair, drumming her fingers anxiously on its back. Primka waited on her shoulder.

  “Finally!” Flissa said. “Who goes first?”

  “Did you know Katya’s married to Rouen?” Sara blurted.

  “What?!” Flissa exploded.

  “Of course!” Primka replied.

  “What?!” Sara and Flissa both wheeled on Primka.

  “For how long?” Flissa asked.

  “Like a year!” Sara responded. Then she turned to Primka. “How did you never tell us this?”

  “Frankly, it’s none of your business,” Primka said.

  Flissa looked at Primka and grimaced like she was nauseous. “Did you ever see them kiss?”

  “That’s what I asked!” Sara cried.

  “Girls?” Primka said. “A little focus? Saving your mother? Listen up, please. A mage needs to be in the chair to make it work, so Gilward and Galric should go together—with me, because they don’t know the royal quarters. But if the king is there, I don’t see him reacting well to the three of us appearing in his room first, so—”

  “I’ll go first,” Sara said. “How do I make it work?”

  “Sit in the chair, and think about where you want to go. Think hard.”

  Sara plopped into the chair, scrunched her eyes shut, and visualized every detail of her parents’ room.

  Then her stomach flipped upside down, and she had the strange sensation of being stretched apart without any pain. She opened her eyes, but everything was dark. Her ears filled with a rush of sound, like a giant was blowing into them, then ZIP—all her sensations returned to normal and she was just sitting in the chair…but in her parents’ bedroom.

  Katya blocked her view of the bed. She was on the side closest to Sara, leaning over the mattress. On the far side of the bed Sara could see her dad. He sat in a chair and leaned over heavily.

  He was sobbing.

  Sara had never seen her father crying like that. It ripped her in two. She desperately wished Flissa was already here so she could grab her hand.

  She stood and approached the bed.

  Her mom was a skeleton. All but three wisps of hair had fallen out. Her skin was thin and yellow-white as parchment. Sara could have counted the bones in her hands, her arms, her face. Her breaths rasped, and an eternity seemed to pass between when one ended and the next began.

  Her dad looked up and saw her, but he had no words. He rose…but then his eyes became hard steel, his face reddened, and the tips of his mustache reached out like barbs.

  Sara wheeled around. Flissa was right behind her, and Galric, Nitpick, Primka, and Gilward had just appeared in the chair. She hadn’t even heard them come in.

  “You…” the king seethed, eyes boring into Gilward. “You did this to her. You did this to her, and you’re going to take it back now.”

  “He will,” Sara said. “He’ll take off the curse. He can do it. But you need to know, he wasn’t the one who cursed her.”

  “We have proof,” Flissa added quickly. “It wasn’t him now, and it wasn’t him before.”

  Their father’s mustache twitched. He wouldn’t take his eyes off Gilward for a second. “I saw him do it. I saw the green mist. Then and now.”

  “That’s not his magical signature,” Sara said. “Galric saw it. Primka too,” she added quickly, knowing Galric’s word would hardly be enough for their dad.

  “Primka?” Katya asked. She had turned away from the bed and studied the group in the room.

  “It’s the truth,” Primka said soberly. “And you know I wouldn’t believe it unless I saw the proof with my own eyes. The man is innocent, but the girls are right—he can still help. He took a curse off me, even though he wasn’t the one to cast it. I believe he can do the same for Queen Latonya.”

  Katya looked to the king. “Your Highness.”

  The king didn’t look at her. He still stared daggers at Gilward.

  “Edwin,” Katya said gently. “She has very little time. We need to let him try.”

  The king nodded. His face remained menacing, but his voice was calm. “My daughters believe in you,” he said to Gilward. “And I believe in them. Cure her.”

  He nodded to the bed, giving him leave to approach. Leaning heavily on Galric, Gilward made his way to the queen’s side. Katya stepped away to make room for him. Sara barely breathed as she watched Gilward reach out and gently place his hands on either side of her mom’s head. He closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths.

  Very quickly, Gilward’s breaths came harder and faster, and his nostrils flared as he fought to suck in each one. His arms trembled…then his chest…then his whole body seized, his mouth opened wide, and thick green mist started streaming out of his ears and mouth.

  Then his eyes snapped open, but inside were only swirls of green.

  He screamed.

  “It’s the curse! It’s hurting him!” Galric cried. “We have to stop him!”

  “No!” the king snapped. “He has to save Latonya.”

  “I don’t think he can,” Flissa said shakily. “I think it’s too strong.”

  Galric grabbed Gilward around his middle and pulled.

  “Wait…” the king said, but his voice was small and broken. He looked plaintively at Flissa and Sara. “He has to keep trying. He has to heal her.”

  Sara wanted that too, more than anything, but she saw what was happening, though it nearly broke her to say it out loud.

  “It won’t work,” she said. “It’s killing him, Daddy.”

  Galric was still trying to wrestle Gilward away from the queen, but Gilward’s hands were welded to her face.

  “I can’t do it!” Galric cried. “I can’t get him off!”

  Then the green mist from Gilward’s ears started flowing into Galric’s.

  “Enough!” Katya shouted. She swatted Galric aside and yanked on Gilward herself. She strained; then there was a sick, sucking sound as Gilward’s hands ripped away from Queen Latonya’s face. Gilward reeled and tottered, then crumpled to the ground in a heap.

  Galric crouched down next to him, peering into his face. “Dad? Are you all right?”

  It took a moment, but Gilward caught his breath and his eyes fluttered open. They were back to normal now but filled with tears. “I’m so sorry,” he rasped. “I couldn’t do it. The curse is too strong.” He looked at Flissa and Sara and shook his head helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”

  The room suddenly felt very small to Sara, but everyone else seemed far away. The only person she saw clearly was her mom. She walked over to the bed and took one last look through her tears. “That’s it, then,” she said. “We couldn’t do it.”

  Flissa grabbed her arm. “That’s not true, Sara. It’s not over. It can’t be over.”

  “Flissa…” Katya said gently, but Flissa didn’t listen.

  “We have to think about it logically,” she said, pacing the room. “One person can still remove that curse: the mage who cast it. We need to figure out who that is, and we don’t have time to make a wrong choice.”

  Sara saw that Flissa’s upper lip had broken out in sweat. She was nervous, but it wasn’t slowing her down.

  “Who framed you, Gilward?” Flissa asked. “Who gave you those notes?”

  Lying on the floor, his head in Galric’s lap, Gilward shook his head. “I don’t know…. I never knew…. I’m so sorry….”

  “It’s okay,” Galric said, squeezing his father’s shoulder. “You tried.”

  “Another angle, then,” Flissa said. “There has to be something.”

  Sara realized there was. “The magical signature!” she said. “It’s unique to the mage that did this, right? So when else has anyone seen that same green mist?”

  The king had perched on the bed next to their mom and was holding her hand. He answered, but he kept looking at her face. “The day you were born,” he said. “No other time until this curse.”

 
Flissa stopped pacing. Her eyes widened. “Oh my heavens,” she said. “I’ve seen it. I’ve seen that mist. I saw it in the cave, when I ate all the food and fell asleep. I thought I was dreaming, but…Galric, it was coming out of you!”

  “Out of me?” Galric asked.

  “Yes.” Flissa staggered backward and sat heavily on a big tufted chair. “I remember…and I remember how sleepy the food made us…I thought at the time we were just tired, but…”

  Sara suddenly understood, but she didn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. Flissa was right, though, they hadn’t just been sleepy when they napped in that cave—they’d passed out, totally unable to function. And there was something else too….

  “Nitpick!” Sara gasped. “We offered him the frosting. He hissed and batted it away, remember? He knew. He wouldn’t eat any of it. And Raya said he was the only one awake when they came in.”

  Primka put a wing to her beak. “Oh my,” she moaned. “You’re right! How did I not see it?”

  Galric looked around at them, totally confused. “See what?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Our food, Galric,” Flissa said. “Our food was cursed.”

  “And Mitzi made the food,” Sara said, stunned to even hear the words in her mouth. “Dad, was Mitzi in the throne room that day? The day we were born?”

  “Yes,” the king said, “but Mitzi’s just a cook. Why would she possibly—?”

  “We don’t have time for why,” Katya said briskly. “Flissa, you’re positive about this? The mist from the food was the same as the mist from the curse?”

  “Absolutely positive,” Flissa said.

  “Then there’s hope,” the king said. He sprang to his feet and strode to the door, his mouth set in a stern line. “I’m having my Guards bring Mitzi up here.”

  “To the Residence?” Primka chirped.

  “I can’t exactly bring Latonya to her,” he snapped. Then he took a deep breath through his nose and let it out. “But if you’re right, she’s dangerous. I don’t want any of you in here with her. You need to go into Flissa and Sara’s room. Now.”

  No one moved.

  “All due respect, Edwin,” Katya said. “You can’t handle a powerful mage by yourself. You need me for this.”

  Her father opened his mouth to object, and Sara remembered that he had no idea how powerful Katya’s magic really was. He must have seen it in her eyes, though, because he set his jaw and nodded.

  “I don’t want to go either,” Sara said. “Flissa and I deserve to see this through. We all do.”

  Her dad’s mustache pronged out, pointing at her furiously, though his voice stayed calm. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Sara. But it’s too dangerous. I will not risk any more lives.”

  “We’ll hide,” Flissa said. “Behind the tapestry. She won’t hurt us if she doesn’t know we’re here.”

  “No,” the king said firmly, but still no one got up to leave.

  “You don’t have time to argue this, Edwin,” Katya said. “Everyone but me will hide. I’ll stay right here,” she added, sitting in the thick tufted chair Flissa had recently vacated, “but believe me, she won’t see me. And I won’t make a move except to protect you. No one can force a mage to remove a curse; she has to decide to do it on her own.”

  The king looked from Katya, to Flissa, to Sara, all of whom met his gaze with stony strength.

  “I understand,” he said. “Just stay hidden.”

  He strode out to talk to his Guards—Sara imagined Abrel was still stationed by the door to the Residence—and Sara, Flissa, and Galric helped Gilward hide with them, Nitpick, and Primka behind a billowy tapestry, which hung like a floor-to-ceiling curtain. They heard the sound of Primka chirping, though the bird stayed silent. Sara smiled.

  “Katya,” she said, acknowledging their nurse’s magical signature. And when she peeked out from the tapestry, she saw Katya had disappeared. She hadn’t left—she hadn’t been sitting in the traveling chair. Sara knew Katya’s magic had made her invisible.

  Sara slipped back behind the tapestry. She huddled closest to its edge, with Flissa right next to her, and Galric and Gilward farther back. Nitpick stood at alert on Galric’s shoulder, and Primka was perched on the kitten’s head. They all listened intently, but there was nothing to hear except the king coming back into the room and pacing back and forth while he waited.

  “I get that it’s Mitzi,” Sara whispered to Flissa as she puzzled it out, “but what was her plan? Was it just to kill Mom? I mean, how could she know for sure we’d go to the Twists?”

  “She probably didn’t know for sure,” Flissa said, and from the tone of her voice, Sara could tell she’d been thinking it through too. “She probably just hoped. She knew the green mist would point to Gilward. She had to know most people would never think he’d sneak back into the Twists once he got out, so Father would look here. But remember Blakely and Ivamore told me the rumor about Gilward going to the Twists with a Keeper?”

  Sara hadn’t remembered, but now she did. She nodded.

  “Blakely said Ivamore heard it from a ‘scruffy kitchen boy,’” Flissa said. “Mitzi works in the kitchen. If the rumor started there, I’m sure it came from her.”

  “And she knew you’d see Blakely and Ivamore, so she knew you’d hear it,” Sara said. “And she hoped we’d go.”

  Flissa nodded. “And when we asked for snacks late at night, she knew we’d taken the bait. So she cursed the food. And she hoped it would kill us.”

  “But it didn’t,” Sara said. “We ate it all. It didn’t kill us.”

  “We didn’t eat it all,” Flissa said. “We didn’t even bring it all. And we shared it with Galric, and Primka. And, Sara—she doesn’t know we’re twins. She may have packed enough cursed food for one princess to die several times over, but by the time we parceled everything out, even though we ate our fill…it wasn’t enough to kill us.”

  “So we’re alive because we were with our friends,” Sara said. “And because we’re twins.”

  Flissa smiled. “Exactly.”

  Sara grabbed Flissa’s hand and squeezed, then tensed up as they heard a knock on the door, and the creak of the doorknob.

  Abrel’s voice rang out.

  “Mitzi, Your Majesty.”

  As the door creaked open, Flissa wondered what was going through Mitzi’s mind. She must have been stunned to get asked to the Residence. Did she think the queen was dead from her curse? And if so, why would she imagine the king would call her of all people to let her know?

  Flissa didn’t hear footsteps. Mitzi and her father must have still been in the room’s entryway, where Mitzi couldn’t see the queen on the bed.

  “Your Majesty,” Mitzi said.

  The sound of her voice made Flissa’s mouth go sour.

  “I was so surprised to be called up to the Residence,” Mitzi said, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Is it the princess? Is she ill? I know how much she loves my cooking. If there’s anything I can do…”

  “There is something you can do,” he said, and Flissa was stunned by his restraint. He almost sounded polite. She and Sara exchanged looks, then both peeked out from behind the tapestry. Their father held Mitzi by her upper arm and guided her to the bed, where Mitzi caught her first glimpse of Queen Latonya.

  Flissa saw it flash over Mitzi’s face—a quick smile of smug satisfaction. Then she gasped.

  “Oh no!” she said. “I don’t understand…what happened to the queen?”

  “I believe you very much understand, Mitzi,” the king said. “You cursed Queen Latonya, and I need you to remove the curse immediately.”

  Mitzi looked at the king in utter, innocent disbelief. “Me? I swear, I don’t know what in the universe you’re talking about.” Then she bit her lip as if she might cry. “Poor, poor Princess Flissara. The dear must be heartbroken. Does she know?”

  Flissa should have seen it coming. She could feel Sara seething next to her, and she knew her twi
n well enough to realize Sara wasn’t just angry about what Mitzi had done, but about her own blind spot with the cook, and how much Sara had always loved her. Still, Flissa was totally shocked when Sara burst out from behind the tapestry.

  “The princess does know, actually,” Sara said. “And she’s pretty angry about it.”

  “Sar—Fli—Flissara!” the king stammered.

  Still peeking out from behind the tapestry, Flissa saw Mitzi’s eyes widen in disbelief. For just a second, her nostrils flared and her mouth became a hard line, before she contorted herself back into sugar and honey.

  “Flissara, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Mitzi gushed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days! You poor little thing. Come, let Mitzi give you a hug.”

  For a second, Flissa thought her sister’s head might explode. “A hug?! Seriously?! You cursed my mom! You tried to kill me—twice!”

  Sara was ranting, and all the while, Mitzi only shook her head like an innocent little bunny. They knew what Mitzi had done. They had proof, but she was giving Sara nothing. Flissa could tell it was making Sara lose it.

  “You’re worried about your mom, I understand,” Mitzi said gently. “That’s why you’re acting so strange.” She turned to the king to confirm it. “That’s why she’s acting so strange.”

  “AAAARGH!”

  Sara had reached the end of her rope. She lunged for Mitzi but tripped on the edge of the carpet and fell. Flissa heard the too-loud THUMP as her head banged against the bedpost.

  Flissa didn’t think. She ran out from behind the tapestry. “Sara!”

  She was so worried, she was on her knees and inspecting the fast-rising egg-shaped contusion on Sara’s forehead before she’d realized what she’d done.

  “Twins?!” Mitzi said.

  The sugar and honey was gone. Mitzi’s voice was now all venom and disdain. She wheeled on their father. “They’re twins. You’re harboring twins. In direct violation of the Magic Eradication Act.”

  “What I’m doing is none of your business, Mitzi,” the king said. “Now I want you to—”

  “None of my business?!” Mitzi railed. “Do you even know how I ended up at the palace?”