UnTwisted

by Elise Allen

  “Look how helpless they are. They’re no match for you at all.”

  Sara’s skin prickled. The voice was coming from a room just ahead and to the left. She sidled closer and peeked around the doorjamb.

  Inside was what must have been a formal ballroom in Grosselor’s days. The once-ceiling-now-floor was beamed with gold and covered in intricate oil paintings, while the once-floor-now-ceiling was covered in diamonds of silver, gold, and white marble. Amala stood in the center of the room, with Zinka, Anastasia, and Skeed in front of her, their faces rapt.

  Floating in the air were Jentrie and Nikkolas. Both were on their backs, completely prone, mouths open and eyes closed. They were unconscious.

  “With a thought, I could take over their bodies and have them do my bidding. I could turn them into trees. I could whisk them far away from Kaloon, so far they could never come back,” Amala said. “You could have that kind of power too. Even you, Anastasia, with the right training. There’s a reason I chose the three of you. I’m counting on you. I need you to work with me and hone your skills. I need you to spread the word to the right people and animals. If we work together, we can change everything. We can make the world we want.”

  Sara’s heart thudded.

  She had just stumbled into the real truth behind Amala: The Shadow hadn’t changed at all. She was still the Cleaner. She still planned to get rid of all the Genpos.

  And she was going to use Zinka, Anastasia, and Skeed to do it.

  Flissa stood on the hoodle field, knees bent and ready to run. She was already panting and sore, but she felt energized, not tired. She was glad Zinka had urged her to try out for the team. Flissa loved sports, and Maldevon Academy offered several—some separated by gender, some by age, some that required magic or were for animals only. In theory Flissa could have taken her pick, but she never would have had the courage to try out at all if it weren’t for Zinka.

  Hoodle at Maldevon had four different teams, two for girls and two for boys, both separated by age. Flissa was going out for the Girls’ Firsts-through-Fourths (FTF) Team, and while she’d never even played hoodle before today, she picked it up easily. She’d played hoodlehoop, of course, but that was very different—a child’s way to have fun with the same equipment their parents and older siblings used.

  A hoodle field was about the length of a jousting field, with a goal at each end. Yet unlike a jousting field, which was perfectly flat, a hoodle field had natural obstacles built in—different ones at every field. They could include hills, boulders, mud pits…One person in the group said she’d played on a field in Winterglen that had a stream running right through the middle. All these obstacles were part of the game, and using them was part of the strategy.

  A game started when two centers faced off, and a referee threw a hoodlehoop between them. Once a center caught the hoodlehoop on her hoodlehook—a long stick with a crooked end—the game was on.

  The rules were simple: Players had to stay inbounds, they couldn’t touch the hoodlehoop with their hands, and they had to keep the hoodlehoop spinning on their hoodlehook. To get the hoodlehoop, players could hook the hoop off someone else’s hook, intercept a passed hoodlehoop, or slam someone else’s hook with theirs so the hoop fell off and the slammer could take it. The aim was to get the hoodlehoop around the opponents’ goalpost. The team with the most hoops on the other team’s goalpost at the end of the game was the winner.

  Flissa twirled her hoodlehook in her hand and waited for Coach Rian to start the game, but the ostrich was in no hurry. She wandered the field, examining the players, checking to see if she’d made the right choices for this final scrimmage.

  Twenty girls had come to try out—twenty-one counting Zinka, who had a bubblegram excuse from Amala and joined in late. Twelve were on the field now, six per side. Only nine would make the team.

  Flissa was slotted at right forward. Next to her, Loriah stood poised to strike at left forward. She’d sworn she wouldn’t go out for the team, but Flissa had promised her a basket of Filliam’s blarnage muffins if she agreed. Loriah might have joined in reluctantly, but once she was on the field, she was too competitive to do anything but fight.

  Zinka stood in front of them, their center. She’d been acting tense and snappy all day. Flissa had noticed at Magic Lab that a few of her nails were broken down to the quick, and she had dark circles under her eyes. During class, Flissa had assumed Zinka’s stress was because she was worried about juggling her Ambassadors meeting and hoodle tryouts, but that wasn’t an issue anymore. She was here on the field, but she was still rubbing her eyes and shaking her head like she had to snap herself back to reality.

  “Zinka…you okay?” Flissa whispered.

  “I’m fine!” Zinka hissed. “Now get ready to play. I don’t want to get cut ’cause we’re not paying attention.”

  Flissa set her jaw and moved back into her stance.

  “Here we go,” Coach Rian declared. “Game on!”

  She picked up a hoodlehoop and twirled it on her wing, then tossed it in the air between Zinka and the opposing center. The other girl caught it easily…until Zinka slammed her hook with her own and jarred the hoop loose. It rolled on the ground, and Zinka scooped it onto her hook and spun it down the field. Flissa and Loriah both ran full speed, each eager to get open in case Zinka needed to pass. Beverly-Ann, a chimpanzee, was all over Flissa, but Flissa feinted left, then ran to the right, losing Beverly-Ann just as Zinka hurled the hoop her way. Flissa jumped up and snagged it out of the air. When Beverly-Ann barreled after her, Flissa raced up the nearest boulder, leaped over Dallie, who was playing blocker on the other team, and hurled the hoop to Loriah, who was wide open near the goalpost. Loriah flung the hoop with the perfect touch—it didn’t even tap the post as it soared down over it and smacked to the ground.

  “YES!” Zinka roared. She ran to Flissa and high-fived her, then did a double fist pound with Loriah, who cried out, “Killin’ it, sister!”

  “‘Sister’?” Flissa asked under her breath as she and Loriah trotted back into position for the next toss.

  “What?” Loriah said. “It’s a battle. We’re winning. Doesn’t mean I like her.”

  Whether they all liked each other or not, Loriah, Zinka, and Flissa made a formidable offensive trio. By the time Coach Rian rang the finishing gong, their side had clobbered the other team, twelve to two.

  “Good game, everyone,” Coach Rian said. “Time to line up.”

  The players all stood in a line as the ostrich paced, looking them up and down. Flissa’s heart thumped. She wanted this. Badly.

  “You all played well,” Coach Rian said, “but you can’t all make the cut. Here’s who I want. Center, Zinka.”

  Zinka smiled and nodded, like she knew it was coming and wouldn’t have accepted anything less.

  “Right blocker, Beverly-Ann.”

  “Yes!” the chimp pumped her fist.

  “Left blocker, Trinni.”

  Trinni hollered as she fell to her knees and gave a fist pump. Flissa didn’t know Trinni well, but she was fearless on the hoodle field. She had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and possibly the loudest voice Flissa had ever heard.

  “Goalie, Dallie.”

  “Yeah-yeah-yeah!” Dallie ran at Zinka, leaped into the air, and chest-bumped her.

  “Left and right forward, Flissa and Loriah.”

  “We did it!” Flissa cried, grabbing Loriah’s arm. “We did it, we did it, we did it!”

  “Uh-huh,” Loriah said. “And now you’re squeezing my arm, which I need to play the game, so…”

  Flissa let go. “You’re happy, though. I can see it. You’re smiling.”

  “Am not,” Loriah said, smiling wider.

  “Three alternates, Nichelle, Odelia, and Rosalie. And yes, I’m well aware Rosalie is my daughter, but she’s also exceptionally good, so I don’t want to hear it. Everyone else, better luck next time. Those of you who made it, first practice after school tomorrow.” As the g
irls who were cut walked off, Flissa saw Coach Rian smile for the very first time that day. “Congratulations, team,” she said. “Rosalie, come on. We’re going home.”

  “Congratulations, everyone!” Rosalie cried as she ran off with the coach.

  Everyone called out their goodbyes to Rosalie, then hugged or high-fived or fist-bumped one another, introducing themselves to anyone they didn’t already know. They started heading out after that. Dallie and Odelia walked back to the dorm; Beverly-Ann, Nichelle, and Trinni made their way to the front entrance to catch carriages. Flissa was about to say goodbye to Loriah and join them when Zinka approached.

  “Hey,” she said to Loriah. “I know we had some issues yesterday—”

  “You had issues,” Loriah clarified, setting her jaw. “I was right.”

  Flissa was pre-exhausted just thinking about helping these two have a conversation. “Maybe let her finish first,” she suggested. “It sounds like she’s trying to apol-ogize.”

  “Wrong. I’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Zinka glared at Flissa long enough to let that sink in, then she turned back to Loriah. “But since we’re on the same team now, it’s fight together or die.”

  “Fight together or die,” Loriah agreed.

  They looked brutally serious and wouldn’t break from each other’s gaze.

  “Metaphorically die,” Flissa noted. “And metaphorically fight, if we’re being honest. I’m quite positive the rules of hoodle don’t actually let us—”

  As if answering to a signal only they heard, Loriah and Zinka suddenly reached out and hugged each other.

  “Wow,” Flissa said, stunned. “Okay. That’s…that’s great. You’re friends now.”

  “Comrades,” Loriah corrected her.

  Zinka nodded. “Sisters-in-arms. Come hang in my room. Both of you. We’ll celebrate.”

  Flissa wasn’t sure if they were celebrating making the team or Zinka and Loriah’s newfound sisterhood. Either way was fine, but she had no idea how long carriages stayed outside the school to take people home. “I’d like to,” she said, “but I don’t know if I can.”

  “‘Sure you can,” Zinka said. “Bubblegram your parents and tell them you made the team, so you’ll be a little late. Or better—tell them you made the team, but you’ll be late because you’re ‘interfacing’ with an Ambassador of Kaloonification.”

  “That’s good,” Loriah said. “And you should definitely do it, because even though Zinka and I are blood now, I still don’t like her that much, so it’s better if you’re with us.”

  Zinka nodded like this wasn’t insulting at all, and Flissa once again marveled at how time in the Twists turned all social norms on their head.

  “Okay,” Flissa agreed. She pulled out her vial of message milk and sent the bubblegram to her parents, letting them know where she’d be. She did toss in the part about the Ambassador of Kaloonification, though she didn’t say “interfacing,” and she left out the part about making sure Loriah and Zinka didn’t kill each other. She was going to add that she’d send a bubblegram to the stables when she wanted to come home, so whoever was on duty could send a carriage, but Zinka and Loriah told her there was a carriage depot on campus. All she had to do was send a bubble-gram there and a carriage would take her home.

  With that done, the three of them walked across the fields to the girls’ dorm. As Flissa had noted yesterday when she saw Maldevon Academy from above, there were three buildings at the far end of the school’s dell. All of them had been stand-alone mansions when Grosselor was in power. A mint-green building off to their right housed the orphanage. It looked bright and cheery, with a sweet picket fence around a newly mowed lawn, a sandbox, a swingset, and a jungle gym. Several little kids ran around the yard, giggling and squealing as they played and chased one another. Two of the kids—little girls who had to be around seven years old—saw them walking and ran up to the fence to watch. One of the girls was blond and the other had reddish-brown hair. Their fists were filled with dandelions gone to seed.

  Flissa broke out in chills. She whipped around to see if Loriah saw the same thing she did, and knew instantly the answer was yes. Loriah stared right at them, wide-eyed and unblinking.

  The girls looked just like Loriah at that age, and her childhood friend Anna. The way they were the day Loriah lost control of her magic and accidentally hurt Anna. The day Flissa saw it all and inadvertently sent Loriah to the Twists.

  “Hi!” the girls shouted. They waved, but the reddish-brown-haired girl accidentally waved the hand with all the dandelions, and its seeds flew everywhere. That made the other girl squeal with delight, and she shook her flowers too so they could both dance in the seed-storm.

  “Hey!” Zinka waved back to them. Flissa waved too, but she didn’t trust her voice not to break. She reached out and squeezed Loriah’s hand—the one with the sickle-shaped scar on the back—and Loriah squeezed back before quickly pulling away.

  “Gimme a sec,” Loriah said.

  She loped to the orphanage and plucked all the dandelions outside the fence, where they girls couldn’t reach them. “Every one’s a wish,” she said as she handed the massive fistfuls to the beaming girls. “Just close your eyes and blow. And make sure you share.”

  “Thank you!” the girls chorused.

  “I didn’t know she was such a softie,” Zinka said as Loriah walked slowly back.

  “Only sometimes,” Flissa said.

  They continued to the girls’ dorm, a pastel-blue mansion with stairs leading up to a wide wraparound porch. The porch held a few tables and chairs, two hammocks, built-in benches, and a porch swing. Several girls sat out there chatting, playing games, or doing their homework, and Flissa thought there was something lovely about all of them just casually being in one another’s space. It gave her an odd pang for Sara.

  Several of the girls looked up to say hello as Flissa, Loriah, and Zinka passed, and while Loriah of course didn’t reciprocate, Zinka and Flissa did.

  The front door of the dorm was painted bright red, in quirky contrast to the pastel-blue exterior, and Zinka flung it open and walked inside. Flissa, then Loriah, followed, and from the main foyer Flissa caught only a quick glimpse of a hallway branching off to a kitchen and several other rooms before Zinka led them all up a staircase. It went up half a flight, then reached a landing and changed direction before heading the rest of the way up.

  It was on the landing that Flissa slammed into something hard.

  “Ow!”

  Loriah laughed.

  “Stop laughing—that hurt!” Flissa said. She looked in front of her. There was absolutely nothing at all there, but her nose stung.

  “Well, yeah,” Loriah said. “You just walked into a magic wall.”

  “A magic wall?” Flissa sniffed the air, looking for traces of lavender, Loriah’s magical signature. “Is this a joke?”

  “Not a joke,” Zinka said. “You’re not allowed above the first floor unless you live here. You have to get permission first. Otherwise the wall stops you. Sorry—forgot about that.”

  “And you didn’t feel the need to warn me?” Flissa aked Loriah.

  “I kinda wanted to see what would happen.” Loriah turned her palms up.

  As Zinka pulled out her vial of message milk and sent a message to the Dorm Fairy on Duty, Flissa poked her finger at the empty space in front of her and it made a clonking sound.

  “It doesn’t like you,” Loriah said. “But me? I can go in…” She reached right through the empty space. “And I can go out.” She pulled her arm back, then stuck it through a few more times. “In…and out. In…and out. It’s so fun! Wanna try?”

  She smirked wickedly at Flissa, who rolled her eyes back. “No. I don’t.”

  A bright pink fairy zipped downstairs, a pink contrail in her wake. Flissa had heard that several fairies from the Twists had found employment at Maldevon Academy, and only now she realized this was the first she’d seen. Apparently they worked at the dorms as opposed to th
e actual school. She wondered if they worked at the orphanage too.

  This particular fairy looked irritated, and Flissa had a feeling that even though she was the Dorm Fairy on Duty, she hadn’t thought she’d have to do anything for a while. She wore a bathrobe, her hair was in tiny curlers, and she flitted in the air with one hand on her hip.

  “Sorry to bug you,” Zinka said, “but Flissa’s my guest. She’s allowed up, and she can come into my room.”

  “Same for me,” Loriah said. “She’s my guest too. Room thing too. Standing invitation. She can come anytime.”

  “Seriously? Is this a contest?” Flissa asked.

  “If it is, I’m not losing,” Zinka said. Then she turned back to the fairy. “Standing for me too. Room and all. Anytime.”

  Zinka gave a so there look to Loriah as both the fairy and Flissa rolled their eyes. Then the fairy flew in front of the three girls and stared at them. She looked them carefully up and down, then nodded and zipped away, leaving another trail of pink.

  “That’s it?” Flissa asked.

  “She just wanted to get a good look at you,” Zinka said. “Now you’re in their system.”

  Flissa believed her, but she didn’t want to slam her nose again. She held out her arms first, but even after they went through the no-longer-solid invisible wall, she moved slowly and winced against the potential impact.

  “You look ridiculous,” Loriah said. “There’s nothing there anymore.”

  “I know,” Flissa said. “I just don’t…you know…know.”

  She didn’t fully relax until she’d made it up the second half of the stair flight. After that she had no problem racing up two more levels with Loriah and Zinka to the third floor, where they stepped into a long, wide hall that branched off to the left and right. Square windows with a view of the academy lined one side of the hall. The other side was lined with identical bluish-gray doors, all spaced at regular intervals from one another. Zinka led them down the hall to their left. As they walked, Flissa saw each door had a gold nameplate with the resident’s name on it.

  “Here we are,” Zinka said when she got to her own. “Dorm sweet dorm.”