Twinchantment

by Elise Allen

  “The magic freeze thing came right over us,” Galric said, answering her unasked question. “It froze everything. But we were okay ’cause we’re in the ball.”

  Sara looked harder at the icescape just outside the sphere. “So…we’re stuck here,” she said.

  Galric grinned. “We’re not. It moves with us.”

  He strode to the edge of the sphere and kept going like he’d walk right through it, but just before he’d hit the edge, the entire sphere turned to give him more room.

  “I made a toy like this for a mouse once. So I could run around and play with him outside and he wouldn’t get hurt. He was a cute little guy, gray and fluffy. That’s what I named him. Fluffy.”

  The name was almost as adorable as the way Galric lit up when he told the story. “Awww,” Sara cooed, but Nitpick wasn’t as amused. He rowred and swatted Galric on the head.

  “Ow! Claws!” Galric complained. “And don’t worry. I didn’t love him as much as I love you.”

  He pulled Nitpick off his head and cuddled the kitten in his arms.

  “Charming story,” Primka said drily. “Now shall we find a way out? We still have much to accomplish.”

  Galric blushed, and Sara bit her cheeks so she wouldn’t laugh.

  “Let’s keep going this way,” she suggested. It felt weird to stride toward the orange wall. She couldn’t help but wince as she got closer, positive she’d either slam right into it or walk through the transparent glow and into the frigid tunnel. But just like it did for Galric, the ball rolled forward for her, and she led the group farther into the unknown.

  Flissa wasn’t sure what was worse: that they were walking inside a magical ball, in the middle of a magically frozen tunnel, deep inside a mountain very similar to the one she saw implode when they first arrived in the Twists…or that thanks to Galric’s story, she currently felt like a mouse.

  They’d been walking inside the ball for…honestly, she’d long since lost track of time, but far too long. Long enough that she wondered if the tunnel would ever end, or if they’d just reach a solid block of ice and have to walk all the way back to the cave where they’d started.

  Flissa shook the thought from her head. The coin had said they should leave that cave and take this tunnel. There had to be a reason.

  An odd thumping sound got her attention. It was Sara. She’d been limping since they’d first arrived in the cave, but now it was far more pronounced. Sara leaned heavily to the right, trying to take the weight off her injured left ankle.

  Flissa quickly slipped under Sara’s left arm to steady her. “Your limp is worse. Does it hurt?”

  Sara nodded, and Flissa saw spots of red high on her sister’s cheeks. Clearly, her ankle hurt more than she wanted to say.

  “We should stop and rest,” Flissa said. “We just have to find a good spot.”

  “What about right here?” Galric asked. “We’re in a ball. We’re good.”

  “Uh-huh,” Flissa retorted. “And what happens if there’s limits to the magic Katya put in the ball? What if it runs out and pops?”

  Flissa saw Galric’s eyes take in the frozen walls all around them. He paled. “We find a good spot, then,” he said. “Good plan.”

  They kept walking, and Sara leaned even more heavily on Flissa’s shoulders. Galric stepped to Sara’s other side and helped her too, and Nitpick climbed out of Galric’s shirt to curl comfortingly on Sara’s shoulder. Primka was worried too, Flissa could tell. She didn’t say anything, but she fluttered just above Sara’s head making nervous clucking sounds.

  Despite what Flissa had said about the ball running out of magic, if they didn’t find another option soon, they’d have to stop where they were and risk it.

  “Oh!” Primka cried. “I see something! I do! Another tunnel, up ahead on the right.”

  Primka had far better eyes than her, but after what seemed like an eternity, Flissa saw it too—a large, triangular gash in the tunnel wall, which opened to another craggy tunnel. When they got close, Flissa peeked inside. Her heart quickened.

  “It’s not frozen in there! The magic—it only went down the one tunnel. We’ll be safe!”

  In a split second, every magical horror they’d already witnessed flashed through her mind.

  “Safe…ish,” she corrected herself.

  They turned down the new tunnel, and the orange ball rolled with them. Through its transparent glow, everything changed. Instead of a frozen white landscape, the rocky walls seemed to glow with bright purple light.

  “Sunlight,” Sara said. “It’s purple sunlight.”

  They moved faster, despite Sara’s injury, until the tunnel opened into a massive cavern, with walls that stretched up high and curved toward each other but didn’t meet, leaving the top open to the sky and the purple sun. Flissa felt woozy, and she flapped her cloak away from her body. The combination of the hot sun and the hotter orange ball made it almost impossible to breathe.

  “How do we get out of this?” she asked.

  Sara threw back her head. “No more heat!” she cried.

  In an instant, the ball around them collapsed into itself, until it was just a clear ball again, sitting in Sara’s palm. She held it to the mouth of her pouch. “Inside,” she said. It whooshed back in.

  “I could get used to this magic thing,” Sara said with a grin.

  Flissa rolled her eyes. The sooner they accomplished their mission and got away from magic, the happier she’d be.

  With the orange ball out of the way, Flissa could see the cavern more clearly. The walls were striated with green, purple, and yellow bands of rock, and several smaller passageways branched in every direction from what was clearly a main atrium. None of the other passageways showed any signs of ice. If there were magic traps in them, Flissa imagined they were different from the one they’d left behind.

  “I’ll pick where we go next,” Sara said. She limped farther into the giant room, but almost immediately tripped on a divot and turned her left ankle—the same one she’d already hurt. She sucked in her breath, and instantly Flissa and Galric were by her side, holding her up.

  “We’re not going anywhere next,” Flissa said. “Not yet. We said you’re resting a little, remember?”

  “Yeah,” Sara said. She put her foot down and winced. “I mean, I remember now.”

  “It’s the only choice,” Primka said, flittering in Sara’s face. “And to be honest, it’s probably good for all of us. We’ve been out here awhile, and we still have a long journey ahead. It’s wise to rest and eat a little something.”

  Flissa hadn’t even thought about food until Primka mentioned it, but now she was ravenous. “Good idea,” she said, and for the millionth time, she was grateful that Primka had come along. She and Galric walked Sara to the nearest wall and leaned her up against it. Flissa’s heart hurt as she watched Sara slide painfully to the ground, but then she realized something so obvious she could have smacked herself in the head.

  “Of course!” she blurted, then reached a hand into her own velvet bag. “I need medicine for a twisted ankle!”

  SMACK! She felt something hit her palm. When she pulled it out, she gripped a small cork-stoppered glass jar, filled with some kind of paste.

  “Brilliant, Flissa!” Primka crowed. “Of course Katya would pack first aid. She’s your nurse!”

  Flissa beamed proudly until she pulled the stopper out of the jar. The paste smelled like a combination of menthol and a privy chamber. The odor smacked them in their faces, and they all started coughing.

  “Is she trying to heal us, or torture us?” Sara asked.

  “It is pungent,” Flissa admitted, “but if Katya gave it to us, I’m sure it’s only because it works.”

  Flissa pulled off her sister’s boot and rolled up her pants, then took large fingerfuls of the horrible-smelling paste and rubbed it all over her ankle. Flissa used very little pressure, but the pain still brought tears to Sara’s eyes. It was awful to see. By the time Flissa finished, e
ven Galric, Primka, and Nitpick were staring at Sara with big sad eyes.

  “Don’t look so tragic!” Sara laughed. “I’m fine! Let’s eat. We’ll have a cave picnic!”

  Flissa thought “picnic” was an awfully frivolous way to describe what they were doing, but she wasn’t going to complain. Together, the two of them reached into their pouches and called out all of Mitzi’s delicacies: tiny sandwiches, vegetables carved to look like flowers, and the mini tea cakes and scones in flavors no one else would dare try, like lavender and honey. Plus the butter, jams, and other spreads. And while none of that would do for Nitpick, Katya had of course seen to his well-being—Flissa found some corked glass jars of minced meat just for him. Flissa took off her cloak and set all the food on top of it, and the whole room seemed to rumble with the sound of their growling stomachs.

  Sara laughed. “We must be seriously hungry to want to eat with this paste smell around.”

  “Starving,” Galric confirmed. He dove in and started chowing down. The rest of them unabashedly did the same.

  Sara raised a tea cake up high. “To Mitzi!” she said. “For making the most incredible food in the entire universe.”

  They all echoed the toast—Nitpick with a meow—and ate…well…like royalty. For the briefest of moments, Flissa almost forgot where they were and what they were doing. Much as she hated to admit it, it felt like a picnic. They all chatted as they ate, but not about their mission. Galric told ridiculous stories that couldn’t possibly be true—stories about Balustrade and how unsophisticated he acted when he and Galric were alone. Primka talked about how hard it was to get Flissa to learn to speak when the twins were little, because Sara liked talking for both of them. And Flissa and Sara each revealed their favorite hidden spots in the castle. Then Sara decided the feast should be a celebration of their progress thus far, and everyone but Nitpick touched tea cakes in a toast. Nitpick couldn’t be left out, of course, so Galric offered him the frosting off one of the cakes. Nitpick took one sniff, then arched his back, hissed as if the tea cake were attacking him, then batted the cake right out of Galric’s hands. They all laughed; clearly Mitzi’s frosting was no match for Katya’s minced meat. They uncorked another jar and let him eat his fill.

  Flissa suddenly couldn’t help herself. She yawned so loud and long she sounded like a lowing cow. It was mortifying! She turned bright red and smacked both hands over her mouth. The whole thing made Sara laugh so hard she snorted the juice she was drinking out of her nose.

  “Manners, Sara!” Primka scolded.

  “Flissa started it!”

  “I did,” Flissa admitted with a smile. “And I’m sorry. I’m just so…exhausted all of a sudden.”

  “It’s catching,” Sara said through a yawn, but Flissa barely heard her. She was even more tired now. It was as if she could feel the energy draining out of her—the opposite feeling from when she’d eaten Katya’s puffy gingersnap. Her eyelids were lead weights.

  “I apologize,” Flissa said. “I honestly don’t think I can keep my eyes open.”

  “Strange,” Primka agreed, stifling a yawn of her own. “I’m also rather spent.”

  Nitpick looked at them all curiously. He meowed several times and batted Sara with a paw.

  “I’ll get you more food later,” Sara said, her words slurred. “After we nap.”

  “Mm-hm,” Flissa agreed, her words equally slurred. “Nap. Just a short one.”

  “Perhaps someone should stay on guard, though,” Primka suggested as she lit down to the ground and fluffed the pillowy feathers under her wing. “Galric?”

  Galric snorted and jumped at the sound of his name. “Huh-wha-huh? I’m up. I’m awake.”

  Sara and Flissa both laughed, but it sounded like they were underwater. “I bet we can all sleep,” Sara said. “Just for a little. It’s safe. Katya even said we might nap, right? Look.”

  As proof, she reached into her pouch and asked for two bedrolls; then Flissa followed her lead and asked for the one in her pouch as well. Flissa tried to arrange the three bedrolls neatly next to one another, but just touching their puffy softness was too tempting. She closed her eyes and lay down. She heard Sara and Galric collapse down next to her, and she thought she heard Nitpick wail—was he pawing at her arm?—then she fell fast asleep.

  She did wake up at one point, or at least she thought perhaps she did. Her eyes fluttered open, but they couldn’t stay that way. They were too heavy, and her whole body felt thick and drained. She propped up the littlest bit to see if anyone else was awake, but it was hard to tell. Everything looked blurry. And wavy, like she was underwater.

  She let her head thump back down on her pillow. The only person in view was Galric, just a couple feet away. He looked blurry, but he also looked…misty. Flissa squinted, and as Galric breathed out, she saw a dark green mist flow out of his mouth and cover his body. A mist like the one she saw over her mother after she was cursed. It was strange, and Flissa knew she should be alarmed, or at least look more closely, but her body wouldn’t listen. That was fine. Flissa was obviously dreaming. And she liked the dream. The mist was beautiful, really, coming out of Galric in long tendrils with each loud snore. Like ocean waves. Flissa watched it ebb and flow, in and out of Galric’s body, waves and waves of misty green…until her eyelids thumped down again, whisking her off to yet another dream.

  The next thing Flissa heard was gruff laughter, and it did not sound like something out of a dream. Her eyes snapped open, but the only thing she saw was a giant thick-soled black boot with silver rivets right in front of her face. She sat up with a gasp, only to find a wooden spear with a razor-sharp metal tip pointed at her face. Black Boot was holding it. In addition to the boots, he wore a rough-hewn tunic and short pants tattered enough to reveal the enormous muscles on his arms and legs. His black hair was scraggly and hung down to his shoulders, and he smiled at Flissa with several silver teeth.

  “’Mornin’,” he said.

  Flissa could have disarmed him. She knew the exact moves she would use. She would lean back on her arms and leg-swipe the spear out of his grip, then bound upright and grab the spear herself. She would have it pointed at his throat before he even knew what was happening.

  But Black Boot was not alone. Flissa darted her eyes around and saw an equally burly, equally scruffy, equally…everything man, except this one wore a black leather eye patch.

  Twins. Identical twins. They had to be. Eye Patch even held a spear identical to Black Boot’s, but his was pointed at Galric’s heart. If Flissa made a move, Eye Patch could stab Galric immediately, and there would be nothing she could do about it.

  Eye Patch moved his spear and gently scraped the tip of it against Galric’s cheek. “Wakey-wakey.”

  Galric was still half-asleep. He tried to roll over and swat what he probably thought was an insect, or just part of a dream. If Eye Patch moved the spear away, that would be fine, but if he didn’t…

  Flissa’s heart thudded. She wanted to say something to wake him, to warn him, but what if that was the thing that made Eye Patch so upset he attacked? She bit her lip and let out a mewl smaller than any of Nitpick’s.

  Eye Patch did move the spear, and Galric didn’t get cut as he stretched and smacked his lips. But then he opened his eyes, and Eye Patch grinned down at him. Unlike his twin, his teeth were gold. “Hiya.”

  Galric screamed and scooted back against the wall, as far away from the spear as he could get. His shriek woke Sara and Primka, but the minute they opened their eyes, two other people stepped forward. These weren’t twins. One was younger than the men but tall—a head taller than Galric—with long tangles of dark hair and a ring through her nose. The other guard looked like a feral girl—maybe no older than Flissa. She dressed in a patchwork of leather scraps and skins with fingerless gloves, and her piercing blue eyes glinted ferociously. Her dirt-streaked white-blond hair was shaved in intricate patterns except for a single high ponytail at the back of her head. One look and Flissa knew to ta
ke both of them very seriously—especially since they both held short thick daggers with serrated blades with the easy confidence of people who knew how to use them.

  In one swift motion, Nose Ring knelt down by Sara, while Ponytail crouched next to Primka. They both pointed their daggers at their victims’ throats.

  “What’s going on?” Sara cried, curling away. “Fl—”

  “I’m right here,” Flissa said quickly, before Sara blurted out her real name. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Crackling laughter echoed through the atrium. “You really think so? That’s sweet. Sweet…but very, very wrong.”

  Sara pushed her body back closer to the stone wall—anything to get away from the blade that Nose Ring flicked toward her. The throaty voice that had echoed through the atrium now filled it again. “You picked the wrong place to nap, my sweet morsels.”

  Sara heard nothing, but she felt something moving closer. Something large, with musky breath that sucked the air out of the room.

  Then she appeared: a lioness, sleek and sinewy and silent on her paws. Her flaming yellow eyes danced over Sara and her friends as she paced in front of them, licking her fangs.

  Sara couldn’t breathe. Her pulse thudded in her ears, and she had to fight not to pass out. She focused on the sharp edge of the dagger in her face and forced herself to stay alert.

  “Now let’s see what we have,” the lioness said, pacing in front of the group. Her eyes rested on each of them in turn, then narrowed. “Four of you. Five, if you count the puny excuse for a feline.”

  There was something terrible in the way the lioness spat the words, and Sara heard the terror in Galric’s voice as he cried out. “Nitpick! Where is he? What did you do to him?!”

  Galric leaned forward to try to see for himself, but Eye Patch waved him back with his spear, nearly taking out Galric’s eye.

  “You’ll want to stay calmer around me and my pride,” the lioness purred. “Bad things happen to those who act rashly. The cat is fine.”