UnTwisted

by Elise Allen

  His voice cracked. He ran his hand over his bald head and let his breath out in a whoosh.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I just want to say that I know where you’ve been. We weren’t royalty, of course, but still…I know. And I know how hard and scary it must have been for you to take the stand you did and tell the truth. People like my brother and me…we owe you a lot. That’s why it’s an honor to meet you. Not because of your title. That.”

  Flissa’s chest swelled as she suddenly understood why she was here—why it was so important she and Sara had come to Maldevon Academy, and why they needed to stay, no matter how confusing or difficult things got.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It’s an honor to meet you too. Truly.”

  It didn’t seem like enough, but Flissa had no good words to express how she felt. If Lazando wasn’t her teacher, she would have hugged him.

  For a second Teacher Lazando looked like he might cry, but then he cleared his throat. “The bell will ring soon,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve made you late for your next class. Good thing it’s with my brother; I’ll send a bubblegram to let him know you have an excuse. That way you won’t get detention.”

  “Thank you,” Flissa said. “And thank you for the class—it was wonderful!”

  “The royal seal of approval!” she heard him crow as she raced away. “Thank you, Your Highness!”

  This time Flissa didn’t blush; she smiled.

  Sara had finished her third-block class and was walking through the crowded main atrium to get to her fourth when she heard it: a rumbling sound so low and loud that it shook the floor.

  The screams came next.

  Everyone in the atrium froze and looked at one another, searching for answers in each other’s faces. Was it the building? Had the mixed magic caused some kind of horrible disaster?

  “It’s in the courtyard!” someone shouted, then someone else pushed open the thick, misshapen front doors, and Sara was borne along with the crowd and rushed outside.

  What she saw there made her stomach turn inside out.

  It was the bronze statue of Gilward, the one in the middle of the courtyard. He was still there, still standing majestically with his legs apart and his hands outstretched, but now his lips were moving and he bellowed out the words, “GENPOS BEGONE!”

  He said them over and over again, in a booming deep voice that sounded nothing like his own. A crowd of students had gathered to watch, and from her spot atop the front stairs Sara could see them all. Most watched in mute horror as the statue spoke, though Sara saw a group of girls she recognized from the palace who were screaming with their hands clamped over their ears. Sara saw other faces in the crowd twisted in anger, and fists balled up at people’s sides. And though they tried to hide it, Sara also saw people smirking, or giggling behind their hands.

  To Sara they were all just background. She was looking for only one person, though she fervently hoped he had a class out of earshot on the back fields or the outdoor classroom and didn’t even know what was happening.

  Her heart sank when she saw him. Galric was diagonally below her, at the bottom of the stairs, and he looked furious. His lips pressed together in a thin line, his nostrils flared, and every time the statue started another round of “Genpos begone,” his jaw clenched tighter.

  Sara pushed through the crowd to get to him. “Sorry…’scuse me…sorry…”

  “Ow! Hey—stop!” snapped Krystal. She was right next to Galric, and she wasn’t budging to make room for Sara. Fine. Sara moved to Galric’s other side and stood at the edge of the stair just above his, making them the exact same height. Galric didn’t look at her, but he clearly knew she was there.

  “He wouldn’t say that,” Galric said tightly. “He would never say that.”

  “Never,” Sara said. “I know.”

  Gilward was a Mage, but Galric was a Genpo, and Gilward loved him more than anything. Never in a million years would he say anything like what his statue was bellowing now.

  Krystal reached out and gripped Galric’s upper arm. “I see the magical signature. Look at the corners of his mouth.”

  The statue stood tall on its dais; there was a long distance between it and their spot on the stairs. Sara had to squint to see what Krystal meant, but finally she did—a faint purple mist wisping from the sides of Gilward’s mouth.

  “Purple mist,” Sara said. She was excited; now they could do something instead of just standing here. “I see it. We just need to find out who has that signature, and—”

  “I know who has that signature,” Krystal said. “It’s Skeed.”

  “Seriously?” Sara said. “Great! I mean, not great that he’s doing it, but great that we know. We can go tell Amala. Come on!”

  “No!” Krystal snapped. “I’m not telling Amala anything. She’s probably loving this. She’d shout the same thing if she wouldn’t get in trouble. And I’m not busting Skeed. He’s my friend.”

  Sara’s jaw dropped. “Your friend? Your friend is doing this? And you’re okay with that?”

  “No, Princess, I’m not okay with it, but I’m not running to Amala either.”

  “Just stop,” Galric said. “Nobody has to tell Amala. She’ll see the signature and figure it out.”

  A blast of orange scent whooshed through the court-yard, so strong it made Sara’s eyes water. The statue stopped speaking and froze in its regular pose. As a rule, magic could only be removed by the Mage who cast it, but there were exceptions. A very strong Mage could undo someone else’s magic—especially magic from a weaker Mage. Skeed may have been strong enough to move a statue’s lips and make it speak, but there was no way his skills came even close to Amala’s.

  As it had this morning, Amala’s voice boomed over the courtyard.

  “The bell has sounded and fourth block has begun,” she said. “If you leave right now, your tardiness will be excused. Any student who does not leave immediately will receive detention.”

  “That’s it?” Sara said, stunned. “That’s all she’s gonna say? ‘Go back to class’?”

  “Told you,” Krystal said. “She hates Genpos.”

  Half the crowd dispersed, but a lot of people didn’t move, and Sara could tell they were as upset as she and Krystal. Then the orange scent wafted up again. “As I assured everyone this morning,” Amala said, “even when you can’t see me, I see you. This insult will not go without consequence, but I will also not allow it to get in the way of your school day. Leave now and be excused; stay and get detention.”

  That seemed to help. Everyone slowly trudged out of the courtyard. Only Galric didn’t move, not even to answer the steady stream of people who acknowledged him, or clapped him on the shoulder as they walked past.

  “Not cool, man.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t believe someone would do that.”

  When only the three of them were left, Krystal put her hand on Galric’s arm again. It was like she couldn’t talk to him without touching him. “Come on,” she said. “We should get to class.”

  “You go,” Sara said. “I’ll stay with him if he wants to stay.”

  She wasn’t saying it to get rid of Krystal—at least, she wasn’t saying it entirely to get rid of Krystal—she was genuinely trying to be helpful.

  Krystal didn’t take it that way. “Big sacrifice,” she snorted. “Like they’d give detention to you, Princess.”

  Sara’s chest tightened. “Stop calling me ‘Princess.’”

  “Why?” Krystal asked, tossing her dark curls. “You’re the princess. I’m supposed to call you that. Would you rather ‘Your Most Royal Highness Majesty’?”

  She extended a leg in front of her and gave a deep bow with an ornate arm flourish.

  “No! And stop! I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

  Krystal was still bent low, but she picked up her head and looked at Sara with wide, sympathetic eyes and her lips in a pout. “You’re right,” she said. “The Princess of Kaloon deigns to
be nice to me, and I don’t fall to the ground and kiss her feet? What am I thinking?”

  Sara’s blood boiled. Her magic bubbled inside her, and she raised her hands to lash out and hit Krystal with a blast of who-knew-what…but the second she realized what she was doing, she gasped and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She took deep breaths, terrified about what she’d almost done. She’d never reacted to anyone like that, but no one had ever frustrated her like this. No matter what Sara said, Krystal found a way to twist it into something she didn’t mean.

  Suddenly Sara heard flapping, and she looked up to see three winged scrolls, just like the kind they’d received that morning with their schedules. When they flew close, Sara and Krystal both grabbed theirs, while Galric’s scroll had to flap into his cheek several times before he finally turned away from the statue of Gilward to snatch it.

  “Detention,” Sara said, reading the scroll she’d unrolled. “Today after school.”

  “Huh,” Krystal said. “Who knew? I guess princesses can get detention.”

  Sara gritted her teeth. In her head she was still playing out what would have happened if she’d unleashed her magic on Krystal. She imagined the girl in the infirmary, cursed and withered like her mom after Mitzi’s curse. Amala would be able to remove it, but how would Sara live with herself if she’d attacked someone like that? How could she face her parents and Flissa?

  She had to keep better control of her emotions. There was no other choice.

  Galric looked down at his detention scroll, then up at the statue of his father. He ran his hand over his forehead, as if pushing back the lock of hair that used to hang over his eyes. “We should go to class,” he said. Then he turned to Sara. “Krystal and I have Magical Botanicals. You?”

  “Same. Guess we’ll all be together,” Sara said as her stomach twisted into a knot. “Fun.”

  * * *

  Magical Botanicals was exactly zero fun.

  The teacher, Dame Yentley, was a short, round dumpling of a woman whom Sara knew because she hung around the palace. Literally “hung around the palace,” because the woman’s face was in many of the ballroom’s portraits—not because she was so close with the royal family, but because every time she was at a banquet and saw a portrait being painted, she’d jump in and pose with the subject. Sara was positive Dame Yentley had never asked her, Flissa, or her parents a single question and knew nothing about them at all, but she loved to tell people they were “like family” to her and would cite all the portraits to prove it.

  “Princess Sara!” Dame Yentley had gushed when Sara walked in. “I’m so thrilled you’re in my class! You should know,” she added, turning to the room, “that I’m practically an aunt to Princess Sara. I’ve spent so much time at the palace, my face is practically their wallpaper!”

  She laughed far too loudly. No one joined in.

  “I’m sorry we’re late,” Sara began, but the woman waved off her apology.

  “Nonsense! No excuses among family. We’ve already picked lab partners, so why don’t your two friends work together, and you can work with me! Won’t that be scrumptious?”

  Sara bit her cheeks to stop from grinning. Flissa’s biggest pet peeve about Dame Yentley wasn’t her social climbing, it was how she always used terms like “scrumptious,” “delicious,” and “yummy” to describe things that weren’t food or drinks. It made Flissa crazy.

  “Delectable,” Sara replied, catching Galric’s eye. She knew he’d get it, and she smiled as he bent his head and covered his laughing fit with a cough.

  That part was fun, but then Sara spent the period stuck with Dame Yentley at the front of the room while Krystal and Galric huddled together at a lab table in the back, chatting and laughing the whole time. Now it was lunch, and as the three of them walked to the dining grounds, Galric and Krystal were still laughing about something having to do with a toadstool and a slimy bug that didn’t seem funny to Sara at all. She considered walking ahead of them and just going to find Flissa—she couldn’t wait to tell her about yummy Dame Yentley—but she knew Galric would want to sit with Flissa and Loriah too, so she figured she’d grit her teeth and wait out the walk.

  Finally they made it to the plains between the athletic fields, the dorms, and the orphanage, where a multitude of picnic tables, troughs, bird feeders, and slop bins had been magically arranged—it had to be magically; there was no other way for everything to appear so quickly. Since they’d come all the way from the greenhouse, Sara, Galric, and Krystal were among the last to arrive, and Sara was amazed by the sheer number of people and animals. The crowd was at least three times the size of the ones at Weekly Addresses, and the noise of everyone chatting and eating was almost deafening.

  Sara craned her neck. “Do you see Flissa anywhere?” she asked Galric. “Or Loriah?”

  “No,” Galric said. He and Krystal were scanning the crowd too, then Krystal jumped up, waving her arms.

  “I see a table!” she said. “Come on!”

  She grabbed Galric by the wrist and pulled him after her. Galric looked helplessly over his shoulder at Sara. “I guess we’re going this way,” he said.

  Sara considered not following, but what if she couldn’t find Flissa and Loriah? Then she’d just be wandering all by herself and friendless for the entire lunch period. Just thinking about it made her stomach clench so hard she lost her appetite. Better to stick with Galric and Krystal; at least one of them wanted her around. She followed them to a picnic table set for six, but only three people were sitting there, two guys and a girl. Krystal pulled Galric to the side with two free spots, leaving Sara to take the remaining seat on the other side of the table. It placed her directly across from Galric, which made the whole thing a little less awful.

  “Hey, look!” Krystal bubbled to her friends. “I brought Galric!”

  The people on Sara’s side of the bench perked up at the sound of his name and greeted them. The boy next to Krystal said hi too, but he looked more like he was talking to his plate. He had long blond hair and wore as much kohl around his eyes as Sara’s friend Princess Blakeley of Winterglen, who could go through a full stick in a week.

  The table was filled with big dishes of stew, potatoes, vegetables, and biscuits, and Krystal was already loading up her plate when the boy next to Sara said, “Krystal, rude much? Weren’t you gonna mention you brought the princess too?”

  “What?” Krystal acted surprised, like she genuinely hadn’t realized the omission. “Oh. Yeah. Princess Sara.”

  Krystal went right back to the stew, while Sara turned gratefully to the boy. He had round black glasses, spiky purple hair, and a very slight slouch that reminded her of the way Galric used to carry himself. “Hi,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” he said. “Your sister was in two of my classes already. She’s pretty fierce at Dodge ’Em.”

  “She’s pretty fierce at everything. Good luck taking her on in a joust.”

  The boy laughed. “Not so much the jousting type. I’m more of an art guy. Skeed.”

  Sara froze. She recognized the name immediately. Apparently Galric did too.

  “Skeed,” he said. His eyes were dark and cold. “The one with the purple mist. You’re the one who cursed my dad.”

  The kohl-eyed boy lifted his head. “That was you? Not okay, dude.”

  The girl on Skeed’s other side leaned forward, equally scandalized. She had a ring through her nose and a bowl cut that sat so high on her head, it looked more like a hat than her hair. “How could you do that to Galric? He’s, like, a hero.”

  Skeed held up his hands. “Seriously? I didn’t do anything to Galric. Or to his dad. The statue’s not actually Gilward. I just wanted to make a point.”

  Krystal threw a biscuit at him. “It’s a bad point,” she said. “Everyone here except the Princess is a Genpo—you want us all to ‘begone’?”

  “I do if you keep throwing food at me,” Skeed said. He ripped open the biscuit and slathered it w
ith butter. “But no, you’re not the specific Genpos I want to begone.”

  Galric caught Sara’s eye. “We should go. We’ll find Flissa and Loriah.”

  “Great,” Sara said, but Krystal quickly jumped in.

  “Wait,” she said. “Don’t go.”

  “Yeah, for real,” Skeed said to Galric. “I have no beef with you, and I’m sorry about your dad. I wasn’t thinking about you when I did the charm.”

  “So what were you thinking about?” Sara asked.

  “You really want to know? Okay.” He gestured to Krystal and her friends. “I’ve known these guys since birth, right? None of them knew I was a Mage until Kaloonification. I couldn’t tell them. Stay in the closet, or end up in the Twists like Drew’s brother or Galric’s dad. You think I wanted that? I was scared out of my mind every day.”

  Drew, the boy with the eyeliner, sank closer to his plate, and Sara had the horrible feeling that his brother hadn’t come back to the family after Kaloonification. She didn’t dare ask; maybe she’d ask her parents and see if they knew. Instead she turned back to Skeed. “But that’s over now,” she said. “The Twists are gone. Your friends all know you’re a Mage.”

  “Yeah, and they’re cool with it, but that doesn’t mean everyone is. I hear what people say. I see the looks some Genpos give me when I do magic. The Twists are gone, but lots of people wish they weren’t. They still hate me, they just know it’s not cool anymore to say it out loud. So yeah, I did some magic to mess with the Genpos. Those Genpos. I didn’t hurt anybody, I just wanted to scare them a little like they scared me.” He looked across the table at Galric. “You get it, right? We okay?”

  Galric’s jaw was still working, but the fire had drained from his eyes. He ran his fingers through that missing lock of hair and sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re not wrong. It’s all pretty messed up. Just…from now on leave my dad out of it, okay?”