Sticks & Stones

by Emily Jenkins

  For our Fuzzies: Al, Jamie, Ivy, Maya, Mirabelle, Alisha, Hazel, Chloe, and Anabelle. Treats and hugs forever. (And yes, of course you can each get a unicorn for your birthday!)

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  When Nory Horace turned into a koat, she had the body of a black kitten and the head of a tiny goat. She could jump from the floor to the kitchen counter. She could root through the laundry and nibble on yummy socks. She was good at chasing butterflies.

  Her koat was a pretty awesome animal, actually, but Nory’s aunt Margo didn’t like it.

  Koat-Nory ate Aunt Margo’s flowers.

  And her carpets.

  And, of course, her socks.

  Yesterday morning, Koat-Nory ate all the Fruity Doodles breakfast cereal, plus the box it came in.

  Plus the tablecloth, two loaves of bread, and a part of Aunt Margo’s couch.

  Nory was a Fluxer. Her magic talent was that she could change into animals. But most Fluxers transformed into ordinary creatures like cats and dogs and rabbits. Nory was different. She could become ordinary animals … but they didn’t stay ordinary for very long.

  Aunt Margo had specifically asked Nory not to flux into a koat today, because Margo’s boyfriend, Figs, was coming over for dinner and Margo wanted the place to stay clean. Also, kids weren’t supposed to do magic without supervision until they grew up and got licensed. (As if anyone followed that rule.)

  Nory loved Aunt Margo and didn’t want to let her down. She planned to stay in plain old girl form. Brown skin, bright eyes, big hair, lucky purple jeans, new red sneakers.

  Aunt Margo had left early for her taxi job, so Nory was alone. She was standing on the porch of Margo’s small clapboard house in the town of Dunwiddle, waiting for her friend Elliott. She figured this way, even if she did flux into a koat by accident, the house would stay clean.

  Nory and Elliott usually walked to school together.

  But today turned out to be different. Today, Elliott was late.

  Nory noticed a butterfly flapping overhead and wondered if she could change into a koat really quickly and then change back. It felt so good to chase a butterfly as a koat.

  No, no, no, Nory told herself. No koat this morning. No unsupervised fluxing.

  The butterfly fluttered above her face.

  No, no, no koat! Don’t flux!

  As with most people, Nory’s magic had bubbled up when she was ten. Before that, she’d gone to ordinary school, as everyone else did. Starting in fifth grade, kids went to magic school.

  Her new school, Dunwiddle, was a public magic school. That meant anyone could go there, unlike the private academies, which were expensive and hard to get into. Dunwiddle offered classes like math and literature and gym, as well as standard magic classes for the five categories of regular magic students—Flyers, Flares, Fluxers, Fuzzies, and Flickers. Flyers flew. Flares had fire magic. Fluxers turned into animals. Fuzzies could communicate with animals. Flickers could become invisible or turn other things invisible.

  But not every kid had regular magic. Nory didn’t, for example. So there was a problem for schools: Where should they put the students whose magic was unusual?

  As an answer, Dunwiddle had started offering a new class. It was called Upside-Down Magic. Nory’s father had sent Nory to live with her aunt just so she could be in it. There were seven other fifth-grade kids in the class. Like Nory, all of them had something wonky about their talent. Only they weren’t supposed to say wonky. Their teacher, Ms. Starr, wanted everyone to say different or unusual instead.

  Nory wished the kids in the regular classes would follow that rule, but most of them didn’t. Lots of them called the UDM kids wonky. Or they called them Flops. A group of fifth-grade Flares were the worst. They called themselves the Sparkies, and they teased the UDM kids as much as possible. “Look, there’s that wonko who turned into a skunkephant and smelled up the whole cafeteria,” they told anyone who would listen.

  (And, yes, Nory had turned into a skunk-elephant earlier in the year. She had smelled up the whole cafeteria. But did the Sparkies need to rub it in? No.)

  Nory bounced on her toes. She turned her head from right to left, searching for Elliott. Instead, she spotted a skinny dark-haired boy skidding around the street corner and running her way. He was flushed and sweaty. He wore a baseball cap and a navy shirt with white lettering that read CIDER CUP POLICE SQUAD. It was Bax Kapoor, another UDM kid.

  “You’re going to be late!” Bax called as he dashed by.

  Yikes. He was right.

  “Hey, wait!” Nory called, sprinting after him.

  Bax looked over his shoulder but kept going.

  Then, whoa!

  His feet flew up. His head whipped forward, his arms windmilled, and he went down hard.

  BAM!

  Nory cringed and slapped her hand over her eyes. She peeked through her fingers, already knowing what she would see.

  Yep, Bax had turned into a rock.

  That was his upside-down magic. Bax was a Fluxer, but he didn’t flux into animals. He fluxed into a rock. He did it every day, and pretty much never on purpose. Always he turned into the same enormous gray rock. Well, once he’d fluxed into a leash, but that was an exception. Every other time? Enormous. Gray. Rock.

  Nory raced over. “Bax! Are you all right?”

  She was met with silence, since Rock-Bax couldn’t talk. Also, Rock-Bax couldn’t flux back, which made Nory feel really bad for him. It would be dreadful, she thought, to flux into a rock—with no mouth, no arms, no ears—and to be stuck like that. For him to change back, somebody had to take him to the nurse’s office for an icky green potion that did the trick.

  Nory’s shoulders sagged. Today, she would have to be that somebody.

  They were both going to be really late for school.

  Bax’s head hurt. His feet hurt; his arms hurt. Even his earlobes hurt. Why did it hurt so much after he fluxed?

  Bax never knew what went on when he was a rock. Other Fluxers kept their human minds when they changed into animal forms. Well, most of the time. Keeping control over your human mind was an important Fluxer technique, but Bax had zero control over anything when he fluxed. He hated it.

  Bax remembered running to school, and he remembered tripping. After that, everything was a blank.

  Now he found himself in the nurse’s office.

  “Good morning, good morning,” Nurse Riley said, smiling.

  Bax blinked and tried to get his bearings. He was sitting on a cot. A scratchy blue blanket was draped over his shoulders, and his tongue felt slimy. It was because of the Burtlebox, the icky green potion Nurse Riley used to turn him back into a boy.

  Bax hated Burtlebox. It tasted like rotten lettuce. And how did it end up in his mouth? Nurse Riley applied it to Rock-Bax with a paintbrush.

  Nurse Riley was cool, though. He had sideburns and an easy grin, and he acted as if it were perfectly normal to paint Bax with green smelly stuff on a daily basis.

  “You fluxed on the way to school,” Nurse Riley said.

  “Who brought me here?”

  “Nory Horace. Delivered you in an old-time baby carriage, if you can believe it.”

  “A baby carriage?”

  “Wasn’t that resourceful? Nory got it from
her aunt’s garden. Her aunt uses it to hold potted plants.”

  Bax had been in Nory’s backyard. Now he noticed the carriage in the corner of the room. It was just as he remembered it: large and curved, with spindly wheels.

  Nory had pushed him to school in it. She’d pushed him to school like a doll.

  “I might throw up,” he said.

  Nurse Riley handed him the trash can. “I could get you a Jell-O cup if you’d like. To settle your stomach?”

  “That’s okay.” Bax waited till the nausea passed. Then he stood up. The blue blanket slid off him. “I should go to class.”

  “Ah, yes, you should,” said Nurse Riley. He clapped Bax on the back. “I’ll see you this afternoon, most likely.”

  Bax moaned.

  Nurse Riley put his hand to his heart and staggered back, pretending to be wounded. “I never mind a visit from you, Bax. You’re one of my favorite patients.”

  “It’s not you. It’s just—I’m turning into a rock more than ever.”

  “I don’t know. You did the leash that one time. And Ms. Starr says you’re making good progress. She says your headstands are getting stronger.”

  “She is crazy about headstands for kids with upside-down magic,” said Bax. “Someone should get her a headstand for her birthday.”

  Nurse Riley laughed.

  Bax left the infirmary and walked slowly to class. The halls were lined with bright red fire extinguishers to keep Flare problems in line.

  Neatly printed signs were everywhere:

  NO FIRES EXCEPT IN THE FLARE LAB.

  RECKLESS FLYING PROHIBITED.

  FUZZIES MAY NOT BRING MICE, RATS, OR SNAKES TO SCHOOL WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION.

  Bax spotted a couple of new school-spirit posters on the lockers. There were sign-ups for the Dunwiddle kittenball team and other after-school clubs. Fly-ball. Invisible diving.

  Bax passed the regular fifth-grade Fluxer class and saw students sitting at their desks, taking notes. Regular Fluxers were expected to master a black kitten within the first month. After that, they worked on adding colors to their kittens: calico, ginger, tabby, and so on.

  “Persians are difficult because of their long fur,” Bax heard the teacher say. “Long fur requires sustained control, and of course it’s hard to keep neat.”

  Bax paused at the edge of the door. He watched the teacher climb onto a table in her human form.

  “Is everyone watching?” She fluxed smoothly into a fluffy white Persian cat with a squished face. Then she fluxed back. “The flattened facial features take practice,” she said. “And that leads me to your homework for tonight.”

  Bax trudged on. He would never be in that class. He would probably never flux into even the simplest black kitten. The other Fluxers would never stop thinking he was weird.

  At the far end of the hall was a giant glass collection jar labeled PENNIES FOR POTIONS. It was a school-wide charity drive that had been going on for a week. Kids brought in their spare pennies, and when the jar was full, the school would donate the money to fund potions for a medical clinic in a poor neighborhood. Bax fished in his pockets, but came up empty.

  Sheesh. He’d meant to bring pennies, but he’d forgotten.

  He promised himself he’d come in a little earlier and bring some tomorrow. There was a big spare-change bowl on the kitchen counter at home, and Bax was sure his dad wouldn’t mind him taking a handful of pennies.

  When he got to the Upside-Down Magic classroom, he found Ms. Starr swirling a Hula-Hoop around her waist. She wore a hot-pink blouse and matching sneakers.

  “You concentrate with your body, not your mind,” she said as Bax walked in.

  There was a pile of colorful plastic hoops on the carpeted area of the classroom. “Just like headstands,” Ms. Starr said, still hooping. “At first, you think. Then you do. But with practice, you begin to do without thinking. It’s a wonderful way to connect to your own unique magic.”

  Ms. Starr was always having them do things that seemed strange and silly. Headstands. Interpretive dance. Balancing poses. Deep breathing. Trust exercises. Sharing their feelings.

  Secretly, Bax admired her. A lot. But he tried to be cool and not show it.

  Ms. Starr waved at Bax to say hello, but didn’t interrupt the lesson to ask him where he’d been. Probably because she already knew. Nory had likely told the entire class about how she’d heroically rescued Bax in a baby carriage.

  His skin grew hot. How many people had seen him in it?

  Bax dropped into his seat and tried to stop thinking about it. He glanced around. Besides him and Nory, there were only four UDM kids in class today.

  Andres floated on the ceiling. He was an Upside-Down Flyer.

  Sebastian saw invisible things. He was an Upside-Down Flicker.

  Pepper frightened animals. She was an Upside-Down Fuzzy.

  Marigold shrank things. Nobody knew what Marigold was.

  There were two students missing: Elliott, an Upside-Down Flare who made ice, and Willa, an Upside-Down Flare who made it rain indoors.

  Ms. Starr talked more about the symbolism of circles. Then she made all the students stand up and get Hula-Hoops. There was room for everyone in the carpeted section of the classroom.

  “Hey! Bax!” Nory said in a low voice. “You feeling better?”

  Bax pretended he hadn’t heard.

  “Bax! Can I tell you something?” she persisted.

  “We’re supposed to be hula-hooping,” said Bax.

  “I put a towel over you and brought you in the back door of the school.”

  “You what?”

  Nory shrugged. “I would hate it if I fluxed and couldn’t change back. And I would hate it even more if someone saw me arriving at school like that. I figured you wouldn’t want anyone to see you in the c-a-r-r-i-a-g-e.”

  “Everyone here can spell carriage, Nory.”

  “Okay, but nobody saw. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”

  Bax knew he should say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he said, “You’ve never gotten stuck. You’re always able to flux back after you turn into something.”

  Nory paused for a second. Then she said, “Did I tell you that once I fluxed into a puppy with squid legs?”

  “Ew.”

  “I smeared squid ink all over my dad’s slippers. Then I chewed them. I attached myself to the bathroom wall and squirted ink at my brother, too.”

  “Nory! Bax!” said Ms. Starr. “Less lips, more hips. Get hooping!”

  Both Nory and Bax picked up their hoops, but Bax couldn’t focus on his “mind-body connection,” or whatever it was Ms. Starr was hoping they’d work on. The only thing on his mind was that he’d pick puppy with squid legs over rock any day. No contest.

  Elliott and Willa showed up during math.

  “Where were you?” Nory mouthed at Elliott.

  “Tutoring,” Elliott whispered.

  “Again?” Nory waved her hand at her teacher. “Ms. Starr? How come Elliott and Willa get two tutoring sessions before the rest of us even get one?”

  The students had been studying upside-down magic skills with Ms. Starr since the start of the school year, but now they were each beginning tutoring for their particular talents, twice a week. Elliott and Willa were paired together because they were both Upside-Down Flares. Sebastian would have a Flicker tutor, since his magic was related to invisibility. Nory and Bax would work together because they were both Fluxers. Andres would have a Flyer tutor, since he couldn’t get down from the ceiling. And Pepper would see a Fuzzy tutor, since she had upside-down animal magic.

  Ms. Starr answered Nory: “It takes time to organize with the various tutors. The Flare tutor has a very flexible schedule, so Elliott and Willa were able to begin right away.” She clapped her hands. “Kids, get out your poetry books. We will begin with the poem about a phoenix on page thirty-eight, and after reading it and discussing, we will do interpretive dance. Except for Nory and Bax.” She winked at N
ory. “You two are excused now, for tutoring with Mr. Vitomin.”

  Nory jumped out of her seat. Zamboozle! She was excused from interpretive dance and she had a tutor!

  “Have you found anyone for me yet?” Marigold asked.

  “Not yet,” Ms. Starr answered. “Your shrinking magic is wonderfully different, which makes it tricky to find a tutor who’s a good fit. But rest assured, we will.”

  “Yesterday I shrank my toothbrush while I was brushing my teeth,” Marigold said. “I almost swallowed it. I’m worried I’ll accidentally shrink a person one of these days. Then what would I do?”

  “Give him your tiny toothbrush,” Andres replied from the ceiling.

  Ms. Starr put her hand on Marigold’s shoulder. “You have an extraordinary talent, Marigold,” she said. “Don’t lose faith, okay?”

  Nory closed the classroom door behind her. She and Bax went down the hall and up the stairs to the second floor. Mr. Vitomin’s office was decorated with sports trophies and pictures of fierce-looking wildcats: lynxes, panthers, and lots of tigers. There was a mini fridge at one end. On the other end, a counter was covered with bags of nuts, dried fruit, and other healthy-looking food. The room smelled like herbal tea.

  Mr. Vitomin himself was a short, pale, bald man. He had rosy cheeks and big muscles. The muscles bulged and made the fabric of his T-shirt strain across his chest.

  He pointed at Nory and Bax in turn. “Let me get this straight. You’re Elinor and you’re Box?”

  “I go by Nory, and he’s Bax,” Nory said.

  “I thought it was Box. You a boxer, boy?” Mr. Vitomin bounced around like a prizefighter.

  Bax didn’t say anything.

  “For the love of carrots, speak up, son!” said Mr. Vitomin. “Oh, hey, are you both eating seaweed snacks and protein? Good nutrition is the basis of good fluxing. All my students eat a carrot, two sardines, and a handful of pumpkin seeds before every lesson. And we all drink pomegranate juice and ginger tea.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Mr. Vitomin, but you can call me Coach.”

  He pumped Nory’s hand vigorously, then Bax’s.

  “I’m the coach of the upper-grade kittenball team, the Dunwiddle Catnips. I think this year we’ve got the finest group of swatters in the county.” He grinned. “We’re starting a kittenball club this year, too, for beginners to learn the sport. Can’t wait. You watching the game tomorrow night?”