UnTwisted

by Elise Allen

  “It’s the only explanation for what I saw.”

  “Maybe,” Flissa said. “But let’s just look for others. I’m not saying you’re wrong, I just want to see.”

  “Sure.” Sara folded her arms over her chest. She didn’t like this game, but if Flissa needed to do it in order to see the truth, fine.

  “Okay,” Flissa said again. “First, if she really wanted to go after Genpos, why bring them to the meeting in the first place?”

  “Easy,” Sara said. “So it wouldn’t be obvious. She had to pick troublemakers from every group so it looked like she wasn’t anti-Genpo. She knew she could knock out the Genpos so they wouldn’t hear anything bad.”

  “But your detention was an hour, right?” Flissa asked. “You didn’t hear the beginning of the meeting, you heard the end. Maybe there were things in the beginning that helped the end part make sense.”

  “Like what?” Sara asked. “Anything she said in the beginning was probably fake—just stuff she wanted the Genpos to remember before she magicked them out and had her real meeting.”

  Flissa took her braid out of her mouth and worked it through her hands as she paced. “Tell me again what Amala said. As close to word for word as you can.”

  Sara closed her eyes so she could put herself back there. She tried to remember the exact words. “She said, ‘What you have to understand is that Mages are naturally superior to Genpos. Look how helpless they are; they’re no match for you at all’…then she went through all the ways she could hurt them, like turning them into trees or taking them over or sending them away…then she said Anastasia, Zinka, and Skeed could have that power too. She said she chose them for a reason, she’s counting on them, and she wanted them to spread the word to the right people and animals. Then it was ‘If we work together, we can change everything. We can make the world we want.’”

  Sara opened her eyes. Flissa stopped pacing and bit her lip. “‘If we work together, we can change everything. We can make the world we want,’” she echoed.

  She was still for a long time, looking out at nothing and playing with her braid. Then her eyes widened. “What about this?” She sat back on her bed, crossed her legs, and leaned closer to Sara. “It sounds like ‘We can make the world we want,’ is one without Genpos, right?”

  “Because it is,” Sara said. This game was getting frustrating. “That’s the world she wants.”

  “If she was lying to everyone,” Flissa said. “What if she wasn’t? What if the world she really wants—the world she wants them to want—is the same world we want, where everyone gets along?”

  “Okaaaay,” Sara said dubiously. “It’s not, but sure, play it out.”

  “Wait-wait-wait,” Flissa said. She rose up on her knees and walked on them to the wall by her bed, which was a massive, floor-to-ceiling bookcase. After Kaloonification, Flissa had spent an entire week reorganizing the books, placing the old, outdated ones filled with lies about Mages on the harder-to-reach shelves by the ceiling and under the bed—worth keeping for historical perspective of the Dark Times, but not worth having close at hand—and shelving lots of new books written in the immediate aftermath of the Battle for Kaloonification. She searched the shelves, then grabbed one of these newer books and started flipping through it.

  Now Sara was getting annoyed. “I know what I saw, Flissa,” she said. “You don’t have to look for the answer in a book. You can get it from me, right here.”

  “This isn’t just any book,” Flissa said. “It’s the reason Mother and Father believed Amala had changed. It’s why they and the General Council were interested in her for head of school. This is a reprint, but Amala wrote the original centuries ago, right before the Dark Magic Uprising where Grosselor framed Maldevon.” She smacked her finger down on a page. “Listen to this: ‘In a way, I was right all along. Mages are superior to Genpos. That’s not a value judgment, it’s simply an empirical fact. We have superior powers. My mistake was thinking that meant we’re owed more than them, when in fact the opposite is true. As exceptionally endowed beings, it’s our duty to use our skills to protect those without the same abilities. We Mages must be like parents of small children, sheltering and helping those who can’t do the things we can. Genpos might chafe at this comparison and believe I’m saying they’re inferior. To the contrary, I believe Mages and Genpos are equal in many ways. Yet it is an incontrovertible fact that Mages have more power and thus the responsibility to use it to help those without the same advantages.’”

  Flissa looked up at Sara, her eyes dancing. “You see?”

  “That Amala has a big head even when she’s not projecting it over the lunch area? Yeah, I do.”

  “No!” Flissa said. “I think you saw Amala doing exactly what she said she was going to do right here. She’s not grooming Zinka, Skeed, and Anastasia to get rid of the Genpos, she’s grooming them to step up and take care of the Genpos!”

  Sara shook her head. “Uh-uh. Doesn’t make sense. Why have the Genpos there at all? Why put them to sleep and talk about all the terrible things she can do to them?”

  “Didn’t you hear what I read? She knows Genpos will think her philosophy sounds insulting—”

  “It does sound insulting.”

  “But she doesn’t mean it to be. True or false: as Mages, we have superior powers to our parents?”

  Sara grimaced and opened her mouth to say of course that wasn’t the case…but the truth was they did. It didn’t mean she and Flissa loved or respected their parents any less, or that they wouldn’t listen, but the reality was they had magic, so they could do things their parents could never dream of doing.

  Flissa smiled. “See? And my guess is the part of the meeting you didn’t see was Amala talking to all of them about working together, but then she had a special message for the Mages, and she knew the Genpos wouldn’t hear it the right way. You know Jentrie. She would have a fit and break everything in the office if she heard Amala say Genpos were like children for Mages to foster. But if you know where Amala’s coming from, it’s a lovely message about everyone taking care of one another…just tailor-made to appeal to Mages.”

  Sara considered it, then she shook her head. “No. You weren’t there. You didn’t see her. You didn’t hear her.”

  “I don’t have to hear her,” Flissa said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. If Amala truly wanted to banish all Genpos from Kaloon, why wait until now? She had the perfect chance. We were in chaos when the Shadows rose up. She didn’t have to come to our side. She could have rallied the Shadows to join Grosselor and the Keepers and other like-minded Mages to take Kaloon for themselves. Instead she went to our parents, the king and queen, two Genpos, and offered her services and loyalty. I’m right about this, Sara. I know I am.”

  “Or you’re blinded because you have a bright and shiny new friend,” Sara said.

  Flissa frowned. “A what?”

  Sara put on a high-pitched voice and tossed her head from side to side like she had a long braid. “We’re so good on the hoodle field together! We spent the whole evening together! I’m Flissa and I have a brand-new friend named Zinka!”

  Flissa’s face darkened, and Sara inwardly congratulated herself for popping Flissa’s happy little bubble. Maldevon Academy wasn’t all fun and happiness and looking on the bright side, and it was about time Flissa saw that too.

  “Why are you acting this way?” Flissa asked. “Yes, I made a friend. I made a few; I’m on the hoodle team now, I have a whole group of new friends. You make friends all the time—all of Flissara’s friends were your friends. You should be happy for me.”

  “Oh, I’m totally happy for you,” Sara said. “I’m totally psyched that you’re so thirsty for friends you can’t even see that one’s evil and working with Amala to take down the Genpos.”

  Flissa reared back as if Sara were radioactive. “‘Thirsty for friends’?” Then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “You’re jealous!”

  “What?!” Sara said. “N
o. Jealous of what?”

  “You’re jealous that we’re at a brand-new place, we’re our own people, and I’m the one who already made new friends.”

  “That’s…” Sara had no good comeback for that, so she just shook her head. “You’re wrong. You’re totally wrong.”

  “I’m not! You are jealous. And I have never, ever been jealous of you. Ever. All our lives, even though you were so much better at so many things. You could always talk to people and make friends and be sure of yourself…and I wasn’t jealous at all! I admired it. I respected it. And yes, I maybe wanted some of that too, but I wasn’t jealous of it, I was happy for you! And if you woke up tomorrow and you were incredible on horseback or a master jouster, I wouldn’t be jealous of that either. I’d be excited for you.”

  Sara didn’t know what to say. She’d wanted to make Flissa feel bad, but now it was out of control and everything Flissa was saying was true. Sara felt small and petty and awful. She wanted to take it all back and start over, but she didn’t know how. “Flissa…” she started, but she had no idea how to follow that up.

  “I had a great day today,” Flissa said. “A strange day, for sure, but mostly a fantastic day. And you know what I was thinking the whole carriage ride home? That I couldn’t truly enjoy it, that it wouldn’t actually be real until I shared it with you.” Flissa’s voice broke, and she pursed her lips as she blinked tears from her eyes. “Because that’s how we work. That’s how I thought we worked.”

  Sara’s heart ached. She regretted every second of the conversation.

  “It is how we work,” she said. She moved closer to Flissa, but Flissa shook her head. She wouldn’t even look Sara in the eye.

  “Please get off my bed.”

  Ouch. “Flissa, wait—”

  “Get off my bed,” Flissa said more forcefully. “Please.”

  Sara did. “There, okay? I’m off the bed. Now—”

  A massive blast of cream-colored mist appeared in front of Sara’s eyes. When it faded, a cream-colored, floor-to-ceiling wall separated Flissa’s side of the room from Sara’s.

  “Oh, come on!” Sara said. She banged her fist on the door. It was hard and solid. “Ow! Okay, that’s pretty awesome magic, but take it down! I get the point!” She banged again, but this time she didn’t use her knuckles. “Flissa!”

  Flissa didn’t respond. Sara wasn’t even sure her sister could hear her from the other side of the wall. Sara knew she could have said she was sorry, but she was only sorry for some of what happened. She was incredibly sorry for hurting Flissa’s feelings, but she wasn’t sorry for accusing Amala. The Shadow was up to something, and she was using the Ambassadors of Kaloonification to make it happen. And if Flissa wouldn’t help Sara figure out what was going on, she’d find someone else who would.

  In the meantime, she’d go to bed. She hated to think about Flissa falling asleep mad at her, but her sister would be calmer in the morning, and Sara was sure she could make everything better then.

  * * *

  The next day, Sara woke to Primka screeching into her ear. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

  Sara groaned, then remembered last night’s fight and her eyes snapped open…but all she saw across the room was Flissa’s perfectly made bed. The cream-colored wall was gone, but so was her sister.

  “She left early,” Primka said, correctly guessing Sara’s thoughts, “which means you have to leave early too.”

  “What?” Sara asked. She let her head flop back on the bed. “That’s not true. We’re not the same person anymore. We don’t have to do the same things at the same time.”

  “You didn’t do the same things at the same time when you were the same person! That would have defeated the purpose, wouldn’t it? Now wake up!”

  Sara sat up and looked at the clock on the wall. It was still early. If she got up and dressed now, she’d still have lots of time before class. “Whyyyyyy?” she whined.

  “Because your sister was studying this morning at breakfast, and she left her Literature book behind. It’s not like her. Something’s clearly on her mind. Probably she’s excited about the hoodle team and it all went to her head,” Primka said.

  Sara sat up straight. The hoodle team could be on Flissa’s mind, or Flissa could be upset because of their fight. Maybe so upset that she was ready to talk to Sara and give her a chance to make up. “I’ll take the book to her,” she said.

  Primka rolled her tiny eyes. “Yes, that was the point. That’s why I’m waking you up, so you can get to school and take the book to Flissa well before classes start. Now get dressed and ready and I’ll give you everything you need.”

  “Everything I need?” Sara asked as she rolled out of bed. “Don’t I just need her book?”

  “More to it than that,” Primka said, “but I don’t want to tell you till you’re all ready to go so I know you’ll remember everything. Now get ready and meet me downstairs right away!”

  Primka zipped off through one of her holes in the ceiling, and Sara rushed to get dressed and ready. One of the great things about her short hair was how easy it was to style, so she was washed, groomed, and in a soft turquoise dress in no time. She threw her satchel over her shoulder and ran downstairs, where Primka met her and fluttered along as she walked to the front door. In her feet Primka held a canvas bag ten times her size—one she’d never have the strength to carry if she weren’t magic.

  “Take this,” Primka said. “Inside is Flissa’s book, some egg tarts for breakfast, and a signed note from your mother. You’ll need to show that to the Dorm Fairy so they let you in.”

  “The Dorm Fairy?” Sara asked. It sounded made up, like the Wishmas Owl.

  “Yes,” Primka said. “Flissa told your mother she was meeting Zinka at her dorm room this morning. So you need to go to the girls’ dorm, show the Dorm Fairy the note, then go up to the third floor and turn left. Zinka’s name is on her door.”

  Sara was impressed. “Do you just know everything? How do you know so much about the girls’ dorms?”

  “Your mother sent a bubblegram to the school to get the information,” Primka said, shooing Sara out the front door and toward a waiting carriage. “Now go. Your sister needs you.”

  Your sister needs you.

  Sara thought about that during the long carriage ride to school. Did her sister need her? She’d always thought so. Flissa had always relied on Sara to help her make choices, and brave new situations, and meet new people…but now it seemed like Flissa was fine doing all that herself. Sara hadn’t seen Flissa pull out her coin once since school started, even though she had a million new choices to make every day.

  Maybe Flissa didn’t need her. But maybe if Sara got the chance to apologize, she could make Flissa want her again.

  When the carriage arrived at school, Sara jumped out so quickly she forgot Primka’s canvas bag. She had to run after the carriage driver, shouting and getting pelted by pebbles kicked up from the wheels, so he’d stop and she could clamber back in and grab it. Then she ran all the way to the main building and hurled herself against the door before she remembered it stayed shut in the mornings so everyone could gather in the courtyard. Already exhausted, she considered sitting right there on the steps to wait for Flissa, but then she wouldn’t have the chance to talk to her. She needed to find her sister with as much time before class as possible so she could try to make things right, so she took a deep breath and started the long run around the main building, then across the fields to the dorms.

  Sara’s legs ached by the time she faced the three houses beyond the back fields. She had no idea which house was the boys’ dorm, which the girls’, and which the orphanage, but there were a bunch of girls sitting on the porch of the house in the middle and that seemed like a good sign. Sara didn’t know any of the girls, but she called out a breathless hello as she tromped up the porch steps, then put her head down so she could watch her feet, and ran full speed up the staircase until her head bonked into a solid wall.

 
“OW!”

  Sara reeled back, one hand on the banister, one on the top of her head. She looked in front of her and saw absolutely nothing, but her skull pounded. When she saw a pink streak of light she thought she was hallucinating, until the light coalesced into a fairy flitting in front of her. The pink fairy looked irritated, like Sara had interrupted her morning. She had her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently in midair.

  “Hi, um…I think I hit my head on something, but I don’t see…”

  Sara reached her hand out to the emptiness in front of her…and her fingers tapped something hard.

  The fairy raised an eyebrow. Sara suddenly understood.

  “Got it. Magic wall,” she said. Then she remembered what Primka had told her. “Right, the permission slip.” She rummaged in Primka’s canvas bag, then pulled out the parchment her mother had written out and signed, asking the Dorm Fairy to allow her upstairs by order of the queen. The fairy didn’t take the parchment—it was bigger than her entire body—but she read it over while Sara held it up. She fixed Sara with a long stare before she nodded and flew away.

  “That’s it?” Sara asked. “Am I okay to go?”

  The fairy was already gone. Sara edged her way up the stairs, hands outstretched…but when she reached the first landing without hitting anything, she poured on the speed. Keeping her skirts clenched in one fist and her other hand on the banister, she raced up and up and up, only tripping twice.

  “Third floor…” she panted. “Why does she have to live on the third floor?”

  Finally, she got to the top of the stairs and staggered out to the left. She leaned against a wall to catch her breath and took in her surroundings: a long hallway with identical windows lining one side, and identical doors lining the other.

  A really long hallway. It would take her forever to inspect the nameplate on every door until she found Zinka’s. No way would she have time to get Flissa her book and talk to her before school started. She should have ignored Primka and stayed asleep.