by Elise Allen
Krystal returned the greeting, then they just stood there, silent, like they both knew it didn’t make sense for the two of them to be together without Galric. An eternity passed, then Krystal took one of her curls between her first and second fingers. She stretched it out, then let it boing back into place. “Sorry about what I said back there, about it being cool to get out of class,” she said. “I really am sorry your friend got hurt.”
Sara braced herself. Krystal hadn’t said anything at all upsetting, but Sara felt like any second now things would take a bad turn. “Thanks,” she said warily.
“Yeah,” Krystal said. She stretched out her curl again. “And, I, um…I’m sorry I wasn’t so great to you before. Like, just, generally before. I’ve been hanging out with Galric and he’s been telling me lot about you and…I dunno, I guess you’re a lot cooler than I thought.” She made a goofy face, like she smelled something strange. “That sounded weird. I just—”
“He told me stuff about you too,” Sara said, remembering their conversation after the first day of school. “Good stuff,” she added, when Krystal looked nervous.
They heard leaves rustle, and Galric tromped into the topiary garden. His face was flushed. “Sorry,” he said. “Amala nearly walked right by me. I had to hide until she left, then I got here as fast as I could. What’s up?”
Sara guessed it was good that Galric had taken so long; she felt a lot more comfortable including Krystal now. “You know how yesterday you both left detention before me?” she asked.
They nodded, so she launched in and told them everything: about Amala’s session with the Ambassadors, about Loriah, and about how Amala tried to explain everything away. She almost left out the parts about Flissa because it seemed disloyal to say anything about her to Krystal, who didn’t know her well. Yet in the end she included everything, because Galric and Krystal could only help if they knew the whole story. She told them that Flissa said almost the exact same thing as Amala about the Ambassadors session, but that Flissa had also lied to Amala about Zinka and Loriah having drama last night.
Krystal’s eyes lit up as Sara spoke and she bounced on her toes. “Yes! It all makes sense. Amala’s the Cleaner. She wants to get rid of Genpos, and she’s using the Ambassadors to do it. I had a feeling. I asked Skeed about it last night. I asked him, ‘What do you talk about in the meetings?’ and he was all, ‘We talk about unification and we talk about the ball,’ but of course that’s what he said. No way would he tell me the truth, ’cause I’m a Genpo. I knew it!”
“You specifically knew Amala was using the Ambassadors to go after Genpos?” Galric asked, incredulous.
“Not that speficially,” Krystal admitted, “but of course that’s what she wants. That’s what she’s always wanted.”
Sara nodded. She even picked up on Krystal’s energy and bounced a little too. “Exactly! You see it, right? But the stuff she and Flissa said—what do you think of that?”
Krystal shook her head. “I don’t buy it. I buy that your sister believes it; I mean, I don’t know her, but she’s supposed to be super smart, right? But I think it’s an excuse. Even back then lots of people didn’t believe Amala had really changed. My grandmother had all these old diaries and I’ve read them—everyone thought she was just saying she changed to make Maldevon happy. They were actually surprised she didn’t become a Keeper of the Light.”
“Okay, but she didn’t become a Keeper of the Light,” Galric said.
“’Course not,” Krystal said. “Maldevon was her husband; no way would Grosselor ever trust her. She went to the Twists, she became a Shadow, and now she’s on the inside doing exactly what she always wanted: plotting against the Genpos.” Then she spun to Sara. “So what do we do about it?”
Sara stood a little taller. She liked that Krystal was looking for her to lead the way. She just wished she had a good answer. “I don’t know.”
“Do we tell our parents?” Galric suggested.
Sara smiled; she always smiled when Galric called Rouen and Katya his parents. His suggestion made sense—their parents were among the most powerful people in Kaloon—but Sara wasn’t sure it was the right call, since all four of them truly believed in Amala. They wouldn’t take any accusations seriously unless there was something concrete to back them up.
“Not yet,” Sara said. “I think we find out more information first. Krystal, keep talking to Skeed, see what you can find out. Galric, think you can talk to Nikkolas and Anastasia?”
“I don’t even know them,” Galric said.
Krystal smacked his arm and rolled her eyes. “You’re a hero, remember? You can talk to anyone and they’ll be psyched about it. Just flash ’em your battle scars.”
Galric blushed. “I’m not flashing anybody anything. But sure, I’ll try to talk to them.”
“Great,” Sara said. “I know Jentrie; I can talk to her. And I’ll see if I can find out what Flissa and Zinka are hiding.”
“You really think Zinka cursed Loriah and Flissa’s protecting her?” Galric asked.
He sounded dubious, and Sara understood. She couldn’t believe she was even thinking it, but Galric hadn’t seen the way Flissa looked at her. The cold daggers in her eyes.
“I don’t know,” Sara said. “Maybe. Maybe it’s just a hoodle thing that got out of hand. Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with Amala’s Genpo plot. But it’s something. And I want to find out what it is.”
“We’re with you,” Krystal said.
She put out her hand—the one with the tattoo on the back. Sara smiled and placed her own hand on top of it, then Galric set his on top of theirs.
“It’s on,” Sara said.
“You genuinely don’t remember anything?” Flissa asked.
It was lunchtime, and Loriah was in a bed in the infirmary, propped up with pillows and munching popcorn from a bowl in her lap. She played checkers while she ate; the infirmary staff had given her a magical board that made its own moves against hers. They liked sick kids to have something to do while they recovered. Loriah didn’t feel even remotely sick, but if she got to hang out, snack, and play games instead of going to classes, she was happy to stay all day long.
“Nothing,” Loriah said. “Same as I told Amala and everyone else who’s been in and out of here asking me. I remember going to the orphanage and giving dandelions to those kids, then next thing I know I’m banging my head on the floor.”
“On pillows,” Flissa said. “Sara and I made sure you had pillows under you when you fell.”
“Cement pillows?” Loriah asked. “’Cause falling on them hurt. HA!” she shouted as she jumped three of her invisible opponent’s checkers. Then she took another handful of popcorn. “Where’s Zinka? She’s too cool to come see me?”
Flissa’s throat closed a little at the sound of Zinka’s name.
“She’s with the hoodle team,” Flissa said. “She knew they’d be worried, so she wanted to tell them all together. They’ll be here soon.”
“So they’ve got no idea who jacked me up, huh?” Loriah asked.
Flissa shook her head. “No magical signature. You recovered too fast. You’re sure you don’t remember anything from last night?”
Loriah turned to her, completely deadpan. “Flissa, I swear if you don’t tell me whatever it is you think I should know, I will pour this bowl of popcorn on your head. And then I will pick the kernels off your head and eat them, because popcorn.”
“Okay. Last night you went to Zinka’s room and you saw…” Flissa looked around to make sure no one was looking, then she ducked close to Loriah and whispered, “She has a cat.”
“A WHAT?!” Loriah boomed, and the nurses huddled at the other side of the room jumped. Flissa panicked. She shouldn’t have said anything. Now Loriah was going to tell, and Zinka would lose Teddy and it would all be Flissa’s fault and—
Loriah grinned. “Couldn’t help it, you were all scared and quiet.” She waved to the nurse and said, “Sorry, checkers thing.” Imitating
Flissa, she then leaned close and whispered back, “Why do I care if she has a cat?”
Flissa had no idea if she should even continue. There could be a million reasons Loriah didn’t remember the cat.
Or maybe she didn’t remember because that was part of the curse. Maybe Zinka was so afraid Loriah would turn her in, she took drastic steps to make sure Loriah couldn’t.
That would be horrible, and Flissa didn’t want to think Zinka could do anything like that, but she also didn’t have a better explanation. She’d wanted to ask Zinka, but when they left the girls’ dorms, they’d run into one of the men who’d tried to take Loriah to the infirmary—Loriah had pointedly run off and taken herself so the men weren’t needed—and he’d walked them to their first-block class. Then second block was Magic Lab, and she certainly wasn’t going to say anything in front of Amala—or Sara, who kept giving her odd searching looks the whole block.
It was fine, though. Flissa didn’t need to ask, because she didn’t actually believe that Zinka would hurt Loriah—not on purpose, at least.
Besides, there was another explanation for what happened to Loriah…but it was so wild that Flissa chided herself for even thinking it. Still, it would make her crazy if she didn’t at least mention it, and time was short—other people would be in to visit any minute now.
“The cat,” Flissa whispered, “it wasn’t just any cat. It had flaming yellow eyes. Just like…you know…”
All the mirth drained from Loriah’s face. She knew.
“I freaked out,” Loriah said.
“Yes! You remember!”
Loriah shook her head. “I just know I’d freak out. I hated those eyes. And these nurses keep making me think about them. ‘Do you have nightmares?’ they ask. ‘Do you have a lot of nightmares?’ ‘How bad are they?’ ‘Tell us about them; go into detail.’” Loriah gave Flissa a dead-eyed look. “’Cause yeah, that’s what I need—to think about all the stuff that keeps me up at night during the day, when I’m actually okay.”
Loriah went back to her game. Flissa could tell she wanted to change the subject, but Flissa couldn’t, not yet. “The way you reacted when you saw the cat,” she said, “it wasn’t just that it had eyes like…you know. It was that you acted like you thought she was…you know. And then you got cursed, so…”
Flissa let the silence hang, waiting for Loriah to finish her unspoken thought, or at least show she understood. Loriah didn’t. She kept playing checkers, then finally asked, “So…what?”
Flissa blushed and squirmed in her chair. She didn’t want to say it out loud. Then Loriah’s eyes widened, and for a second she looked just as young and terrified as when Flissa first saw her surrounded by the Keepers of the Light.
“You think…she cursed me?”
“I…I don’t know,” Flissa stammered. “I mean, I don’t. Not really. From everything I’ve studied, magic doesn’t work like that. You can change things about how you look—like your hair or your clothes—or a curse could ravage your body, like what happened to my mother, or Gilward, or Mitzi…but you can’t change the basic structure of who you are. I don’t even know of a Shadow who can do that, never mind a Magical Animal. Most Magical Animals can’t even do magic at all, but with the way you acted and then getting cursed right afterward, I just can’t get it out of my head that maybe…”
Flissa saw the furrow appear in Loriah’s forehead as she considered it. Then Loriah shook her head. “It’s not her. There’s no way she can turn herself into a cat. If she could, she’d have done it all the time, to sneak through tiny pipes or underground tunnels and spy on other Mages. Since she was too big, she had me do that stuff. Sometimes I’d get stuck, and she’d complain that we lost so much time getting me out, it’d be better to leave me to rot. I kinda always thought she might.”
Flissa could imagine Loriah wedged tightly in a pitch-black underground tunnel, unable to see or move, waiting to see if Raya would rescue her, or if this was the time she’d remain helplessly buried alive. Just thinking about it made Flissa’s heart thump, and she inhaled deeply, suddenly desperate for breath. She wanted to comfort Loriah, to reach out and squeeze her hand, but she knew by now that was the last thing Loriah wanted when she was thinking about her days in the Twists. Flissa just had to wait and know her friend would keep talking when she was ready.
“So no,” Loriah finally said, “she can’t turn into a cat. Maybe I freaked out, but no way it’s her. Besides, I know what getting cursed by her feels like. If I felt it again, I’d remember it.”
“Hail to our fallen comrade!” Zinka cried out as she stormed into the infirmary. The rest of the hoodle team were behind her, and they all swarmed Loriah’s bed.
“Brought you biscuits from lunch,” Dallie said, holding out a lumpy, napkin-wrapped bundle.
“Yes!” Loriah cried, snatching it out of her hand. “If anyone brought me honey, I will love you forever.”
Rosalie lifted a wing to reveal a squat honey pot tucked underneath. “I closed the lid up tight,” she said, “but sorry if there’s any feathers in it.”
“Don’t even care,” Loriah said, greedily opening the honey pot and dipping in a biscuit. “Just psyched to have it. I’d say I’d share with the rest of you, but I’d be lying; they’re mine.”
As everyone spoke at once, Zinka sidled up to Flissa. “Can we talk a sec?” she whispered.
Flissa nodded, and they slipped out together, tromping through the copse of trees behind the infirmary until they were well out of earshot of anyone near the building. Zinka had been all smiles inside, but now she looked desperately worried and Flissa could see the deep circles under her eyes were even darker.
“Did she say anything?” Zinka asked, her voice a whisper. “About Teddy?”
“She didn’t even remember you have a cat,” Flissa said. “I had to remind her.”
“Why?” Zinka asked. “Why would you remind her?” She put her fist to her mouth, and Flissa wondered if that was why her knuckles were so red and raw, from pushing them against her teeth.
“It’s okay,” Flissa said. “She didn’t really seem to care. She didn’t say she’d turn you in.”
Zinka nodded, but she didn’t take her knuckles out of her mouth. She was obviously worried, and Flissa didn’t want to make things worse, but now that Zinka was here in front of her and they were alone, she had to know the truth.
“Zinka…last night…you said if Loriah came near your room, you’d destroy her. You didn’t…”
Zinka whipped around and punched the tree behind her.
“I knew you’d ask that!” she snapped. She pushed her knuckles into her forehead, then wheeled to Flissa. “Is it because I’m from the Twists? You think I’m violent and that I’ll curse anyone who makes me mad?”
Flissa’s heart thudded. “No!” she said, though in her head she was already wondering how she’d protect herself if Zinka struck out at her. Would she be strong enough to repel a curse without Sara next to her?
Zinka’s nostrils flared…then her eyes suddenly welled with tears. She leaned back against the tree and slid to the ground, burying her head in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired. I don’t sleep a lot…. Nightmares, you know? But Teddy helps; she keeps me calm when I remember stuff from…. And I was so afraid I’d have to give her up because of Loriah…but I didn’t curse her. I swear I didn’t. I won’t lie—I might’ve, if she’d come to my room and tried to take Teddy. I wouldn’t have done that to her, but I might’ve tried to shock her or set off a stink spell or something to keep her away. But I didn’t see her after you left, and I didn’t do anything to her.”
Two seconds ago Flissa had been terrified of what Zinka might do, but now she saw her for what she really was: just a girl, a couple of years older than Flissa and Sara, who’d suffered through things the two of them could only imagine. Zinka wasn’t dangerous; she was in agony. Her pain was so intense she couldn’t slee
p and she chewed at her nails and her knuckles, but she still fought to put on a good show and make friends and build a life for herself.
Flissa sat down next to her against the tree trunk. “I believe you,” she said. “I’m sorry I ever thought anything else.”
“I guess it would be strange if you didn’t,” Zinka said. “But thanks.”
She took a deep breath, rubbed the tears from her eyes, then jumped up and shook herself out before reaching out to Flissa. Zinka helped her up, and held out a scratched-up fist.
“Right fist, left fist, both fists, both hands,” she said.
Flissa wasn’t sure what she meant at first, but she followed Zinka’s lead and fist-bumped their right then left fists, then both fists, then slapped both hands. Zinka smiled.
“Hoodle handshake,” she said. “We came up with it on the way to the infirmary. Like it?”
Flissa beamed. “I do,” she said.
* * *
Flissa spun the hoodlehoop on her hook and ran as fast as she could, dodging to avoid a block from Dallie.
“Yeah, Flissa!” Zinka roared from the sidelines. “You go!”
They were playing a three-on-three scrimmage, and while as a starter Zinka would normally be in the thick of it, she stayed on the sidelines since she’d had to miss the first part of practice for her Ambassador of Kaloonification meeting. Coach Rian had received a bubblegram from Amala at the beginning of practice telling her this would be an everyday thing, and while none of the other players spoke ostrich, Rosalie’s feathers blushed bright red when she heard her mother’s furious response. She kept her anger to herself, though; her reply bubblegram to Amala simply said, “Understood.”
Zinka was a great player, and games were always better when she was on the field, but she was amazing on the sidelines too. She ran up and down almost as much as Coach Rian, constantly clapping and cheering them on.
“Yes, Trinni!” Zinka screamed as Trinni smacked the hoop off Flissa’s hoodlehook and ran toward the opposite goal. “You take that hook! You got this!”
“That’s right, you’ve got it!” came another voice…but this one made them put down their hooks and spin in disbelief.
