Twinchantment
Page 1
Copyright © 2019 by Disney Book Group
Designed by Jamie Alloy
Cover illustration by Maike Plenzke
Cover design by Jamie Alloy
All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.
ISBN 978-1-368-01296-6
Visit www.DisneyBooks.com
To Maddie, who continues to astound me each and every day.
I’m so proud to be your mom.
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
The Kingdom of Kaloon Magic Eradication Act
Prologue
Chapter 1: Sara
Chapter 2: Flissa
Chapter 3: Sara
Chapter 4: Flissa
Chapter 5: Sara
Chapter 6: Flissa
Chpater 7: Sara
Chapter 8: Flissa
Chapter 9: Sara
Chapter 10: Flissa
Chapter 11: Sara
Chapter 12: Flissa
Chapter 13: Sara
Chapter 14: Flissa
Chapter 15: Sara
Chapter 16: Flissa
Chapter 17: Sara
Chapter 18: Flissa
Chapter 19: Sara
Chapter 20: Flissa
Chapter 21: Sara
Chapter 22: Flissa
Acknowledgments
About the Author
In acknowledgment of the grievous harm visited upon King Lamar by practitioners of the Dark Art of Magic, the following rules shall now and forever forward be enforced in the Kingdom of Kaloon:
1. Only designated Keepers of the Light may practice magic, and only as part of their duty to protect Kaloon.
2. There shall be no other practice of magic within the Kingdom’s limits. To ensure this, those with magical abilities must vacate the kingdom immediately.
3. Should a person develop magical abilities, they must report directly to the Keepers of the Light, register their skills, then prepare for mandatory relocation outside the kingdom.
4. All magical amulets, charms, and other talismans are strictly prohibited.
5. Children born with physical evidence of a propensity for magic may not be raised in the kingdom, and instead shall be surrendered to the Keepers of the Light for re-homing. Such physical evidence includes:
a. Polydactyly—extra fingers or toes
b. A caul over the face at birth
c. Left-handedness (should it persist after active retraining)
d. Twinhood
These rules are absolute. Any defiance will be answered with swift and certain punishment, ranging from life imprisonment, to exile, to execution.
So it is written and sealed from this day forward.
Magic had brought the dark times to the kingdom of Kaloon. And only magic—tightly controlled magic—could sweep them away again.
Every Kaloonian knew the story. The nobles of the castle, the merchants of the village, and the farmers of the vast countryside had all taught it to their children. Anyone could describe how the Dark Mage Maldevon hid his true nature for years. He pretended his magic was simple and harmless. He won everyone’s trust performing tricks at local festivals and making mystical poultices to heal wounds and ailments. Even the great King Lamar had admired Maldevon—had even invited him to live in the castle.
It was a fatal mistake.
At exactly midnight on the day of King Lamar’s son’s Ascension Day—the day Prince Alistair turned twelve and would officially take his place in the royal line—Maldevon and his followers swept through the castle, unleashing spells and curses that extinguished the lives of everyone in their path. By the time King Lamar understood what was happening, many in the palace had already fallen. The king immediately summoned his army, but their strength and weapons were nothing in the face of Maldevon’s hateful magic. With a flick of a finger or a muttered syllable, the mage could steal the air from their lungs or thicken the blood in their veins.
Despite the danger, King Lamar wanted to fight Maldevon himself, but his personal guard wouldn’t let him. Though the king raged and fought against them, his guard overpowered him and brought him into a secret chamber of the castle for his own protection.
It should have been a pointless ploy. Hidden nooks and tunnels were no match for Maldevon. His very senses were magical. He had the power to find anyone he wanted and destroy them with barely a thought.
And he would have succeeded, had it not been for a single man. A mage who only used his power for good.
As Grosselor would later tell it, he was reading in bed when he heard the commotion. Not with his ears. He was miles away. Back then, he had already lived a very long life and found simple happiness on a sprawling farm on the outskirts of Kaloon, surrounded by others like himself. He was a mage, but unlike Maldevon, he didn’t want attention or accolades. He only wanted to spend time with his friends and family, other mages with the same philosophy. They could create anything they needed, so they lived together in harmony and left the rest of Kaloon alone.
Yet on this night, anguish seared like lightning through Grosselor’s head. He heard terrified screams and felt each life ripped away as if it were part of his own soul. He knew instantly what was happening, and although he’d never dreamed of approaching the castle, he knew what he had to do.
Humble Grosselor would always decline to talk about what happened next. Stories passed down through the years simply said that Grosselor and his allies appeared at the palace out of nowhere. What they did is a mystery, but by the time they were done, Maldevon and all his followers were in Grosselor’s custody, and King Lamar was safe.
His family, however, wasn’t so lucky. Most of them had perished. His wife, his siblings, his children. Even Prince Alistair, who’d just turned twelve that day.
Only one member of King Lamar’s family survived: the second of his six children, Prince Regland. Just one year younger than his older brother, Prince Regland was now the one who’d have an Ascension Ceremony at age twelve, but King Lamar swore no dark mages would get in the way this time. He enacted the Magic Eradication Act, forever banning all magic from Kaloon, except that which would be used to protect it. He insisted Grosselor take charge of securing the kingdom at all costs. At His Majesty’s decree, Grosselor formed the Keepers of the Light.
From the beginning, this group of magical men and women dedicated themselves to eradicating all dark magic from the land. Hand in hand with the royal family, Grosselor and his Keepers kept Kaloon safe for generations. Dressed in their yellow cloaks and doublets, they were like glimpses of the sun, and gave Kaloonians the same warm feeling of comfort.
Kaloonians born in the years after the Magic Eradication Act couldn’t even imagine a world where magic was allowed to run rampant, nor would they want to. The very idea was terrifying. Grosselor himself was the only person old enough to remember that time clearly, and his stories made it sound terrible. Of course, Grosselor didn’t look his age, nor did any of the older Keepers. Their timeless youth and vitality were the only outward signs of their powerful magic. They didn’t boast about this or showcase it, though. None of the Keepers spoke about magic. They saw the power as a duty to bear, one to protect the kingdom they loved.
Like when they saved the life of King Lamar’s great-great-grandson’s firstborn child, Princess Flissara.
It happened at a party in Queen Latonya and King Edwin’s high-ceilinged throne room. The space was so stuffed
with celebratory banners and bunting, it was a wonder there was any room for people; yet its stone walls seemed to echo with the voices of the whole kingdom. Men, women, and children crammed together, sweating in their finest hand-stitched brocade dresses and tunics. They ignored the oppressively thick air and stood on tiptoe, the ones in the back stretching and straining to see the king and his very pregnant queen on their rich purple thrones.
With the exception of the Keepers in their ever-present yellow, purple was the color of the day. It was Queen Latonya’s favorite, and everyone wanted to please her. She and King Edwin were the most beloved royal couple ever to rule Kaloon—the only royal couple who had married for love. King Edwin had met his bride while shopping in the village. Her family owned a cheese shop. One look at her mane of dark curls, laughing brown eyes, and sparkling smile and he was smitten. Latonya had loved him just as much but wasn’t sure she could trust the fancies of a king. He wooed her tirelessly for an entire year. When she finally said she’d marry him, the whole kingdom celebrated for weeks.
Now, nearly nine months later, she glowed with joy as she rested one hand on her giant belly and addressed her people.
“Friends, family, fellow Kaloonians. I am so honored you’ve all joined King Edwin and me today to share our happiness as—”
What happened next moved too quickly for anyone to intervene. Gilward, the court jester and a lanky noodle of a man, somehow muscled to the front of the crowd. In a single motion, he ripped his hands from his pockets, thrust his arms out like talons, and screamed arcane words at the top of his lungs.
Bright light filled the throne room, so intense it hurt, and everyone shut their eyes and turned away. When they opened them again, the light was gone, but Queen Latonya stood on the dais staring down at her swollen belly in horror as a thick green mist swirled around it. The king leaped to his feet and drew his sword. “What did you do?” he roared down to Gilward. “What did you do?!”
In an instant, Grosselor magically appeared at Gilward’s side. His whole body sparkled with his unique magical signature, and those same sparkles glistened on Gilward as he slammed to his knees, his forehead banging on the floor and his arms jerking painfully behind his back. He rose as if yanked by the elbows, until he hung a foot off the floor…and then he changed. As those around him watched in a mix of awe and horror, Gilward shrank within his purple unitard. His skin crumpled closer to his bones, suddenly crepe-thin and wrinkled. Eyes wide with terror, he turned desperately to Grosselor. “What are you doing to me?” he croaked in a suddenly ancient voice.
“Nothing,” Grosselor said impassively. “Whatever’s happening to you, it isn’t me.”
And it wasn’t. Every witness said Grosselor’s magical signature, those sparkles, glistened only around Gilward’s elbows, from which the jester dangled as if on a hook. They were nowhere else on his swiftly deteriorating body.
Just then, Mitzi, a young woman from the kitchen staff, shrieked from across the room, “The mist!” She thrust her arm out to point at Queen Latonya. “It’s going into her body!”
King Edwin gasped and ran to his wife as she looked down at her belly and screamed. Mitzi was right. The thick mist that had been swirling around her was now seeping through her gown and into her womb. The queen tried to claw it away, crying out in panic, but it wouldn’t stop. It sank into her, until every wisp was gone.
Then Latonya jolted upright as a bolt of white-hot pain shot through her body. She yowled in agony.
No one saw anything else after that. The royal nurse, Katya, heaved her enormous body onto the dais and ushered Queen Latonya away, King Edwin by her side the whole time. Grosselor blinked onto the dais to join them, leaving Gilward to be ushered out of the room in the grip of a craggy-faced Keeper named Rouen. Within moments, everyone involved with the incident was gone, leaving only a handful of Keepers to stay with the crowd and keep them calm and quiet, as everyone anxiously waited to hear what had happened.
When Grosselor reappeared on the dais an hour later, his smile glowed almost as brightly as his yellow doublet.
“May the Light keep us all,” he said. “The queen is fine…and so is her new baby girl. Long live Princess Flissara!”
BONG! BONG! BONG!
Again and again the bell in the castle’s highest turret bonged, and with each repetition, the knot in Sara’s stomach tightened.
She was late. Supremely late. Un-princessly late, and there was absolutely no way she could make it across the fields, past the stables, through the gardens, and up the endless steps to the throne room’s balcony before the tenth bong of the bell.
No way at all. Unless she ran faster than she’d ever run in her life. She took a deep breath, then sprinted, top speed—
—for about a second. Then she tripped over the hem of her skirt and belly flopped onto the grass.
“Ugh!” she groaned. “This is the worst!”
She dragged herself to her feet and peered down at her favorite rose-red dress.
Grass stains all down the front. Of course.
“Worser than worst!”
For a second, Sara considered blowing off the Weekly Address entirely, but that would be an even huger disaster. Every time she went to one of Kaloon’s county festivals and spent time among her people, they always told her how much they loved the Weekly Address. They said they eagerly awaited that reliable break in their workweek, which made them feel connected to the royal family, even when there was nothing to report. If Sara didn’t show up, Kaloonians would worry. And they’d talk. And no matter how much Kaloon loved her, some people would definitely spread stories about where Princess Flissara had been instead—and Dad would hate that.
Of course, the truth was, they’d talk anyway once she flew in with a stained dress and nightmare hair that burst from its braids like straw from an overstuffed mattress.
Still, better to be there than not. Sara gripped her skirt in her fists and ran with her eyes pinned to the ground so she wouldn’t miss any stray roots or holes. She was a princess by birth, but as her mother never failed to point out, Sara was also Queen of Uncoordination.
She cursed herself for letting time get away. She hadn’t meant to. She’d spent the morning with a sketch pad in the rose garden specifically so she’d be close at hand while she waited for the Weekly Address. But then she’d heard high-pitched giggles and looked up to see two little kids playing hoodlehoop. Hoodlehoop! How fun was that? The small boy and girl each had a hoodlehook and used it to roll the hoop back and forth between them, and they just looked so free and happy that Sara wanted to capture it on paper…but then the kids ran off, rolling the hoodlehoop as they went, and the only way Sara could finish her drawing was to chase after them!
Normally she’d have needed a cleverly crafted plan to slip away from all the servants and Rouen, the family’s officially assigned Keeper, but when Sara looked around, she realized that for this one blissful moment, she was alone.
Was someone slacking on the job? Was something exciting going on somewhere else in the castle that had everyone’s attention?
Sara didn’t know, and she didn’t care. She tucked her sketch pad and charcoals into her satchel, slung the bag over her shoulder, and ran after the kids. Keeping a safe distance, of course. She wanted to catch them in full hoodlehoop action, not losing their minds over their princess. She ran until they lost their breath and collapsed, red-faced and panting and giggling in the grass, which was an even better picture than the game, so Sara ducked into a cluster of bushes and drew as quickly as she could. When she was done, she still should have had plenty of time to get back, but it turned out that the bushes she’d hidden in were covered in thorns. And while she’d sketched, they’d hooked into her braids. The second she’d tried to stand, the thorns yanked her back by the head. She’d spent an eternity slowly unhooking herself and wincing and sucking her fingers as the barbs pricked her skin, but finally, finally, she got free.
And that’s when the bells started bonging.
Sara stared at the castle, still so far ahead. She twisted her skirts around her fists one more time, hoisting them just a little higher. She couldn’t trip again. Couldn’t lose more time. She just had to pass the stables, and then—
Sara saw the boy a second before she slammed into him. He was nothing but a flash of black clothes and light skin coming out of the stables, and she had no time to stop before—
“OOF!”
They both tumbled to the ground, Sara flat on top of him. Which was good, she guessed, because at least her dress wouldn’t get any dirtier.
“Hey, get off!”
“Sorry-sorry-sorry!” Sara said. She tried jumping lithely to her feet, but the move turned into more of a rolling flop and ungainly crawl. Then she looked down at her victim, sprawled spread-eagle on the grass.
She gasped. “Galric?”
The boy’s eyes grew to giant moons and his milky face turned five shades paler. He scrambled up awkwardly, a wild jumble of knees and elbows, then backed away several steps and bowed low.
“Princess Flissara,” he said. “My humblest apologies. I never should have spoken to you that way. Or at all. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Sara said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
And yet she flushed as she said it because of course his father had done the worst possible wrong, and they both knew it.
“You can get up,” Sara said. “It’s okay.”
Galric rose, but he kept his head down so his stringy black hair stayed flopped over his face. He was a few inches taller than Sara, and she knew he was a couple years older.
“I should go,” Galric said. “People could be watching.”
“The Keepers of the Light?”
Galric flinched so violently Sara had to laugh.
“It’s not like they come when I call. Or, I mean, I guess they would, but I’m not calling.” She leaned closer to Galric, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t like them either.”
Now it was her turn to flinch. It was treasonous for even a princess to say such a thing, and Sara knew better than to blurt out everything she thought, even if she wanted to.