by Zandra Pope
“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded.
“Me?” I was indignant. “You’re the one who insisted that our secret is totally safe. You’re the one who told me not to worry so much. I simply took your advice.”
“Drama much?”
“As long as you’re okay with execution.”
Chase had the unfortunate luck to walk past us just then. At the sound of me saying ‘execution’ his head snapped up, face creased with worry.
“Hey there,” Ava gave him her thousand-watt smile. “Just chatting with my sister.”
She hung her arm around my neck and we stood there until Chase walked away. He walked way too slowly and kept casting backward glances at us.
Keeping her arm around my neck, Ava dragged me into a study carrel, shutting the door behind her. “Have you lost your mind? Saying that in public?”
“Have you lost yours? We have to be more careful. We have to change the way we’ve been living our lives if we want to stay alive.”
“We’re seventeen, Greta. We need to live our lives, be free.”
“Ava, what happens if you go rock climbing or get into a magic duel or go to a party, now? What happens if you fall or get hurt?”
“I get it. It means you don’t have any magic. But, Greta, life is full of risk; that’s not going to change if you lock yourself in our room. If we both go, if we do everything together, which we basically already do, I’ll shield both of us. We can look out for each other.”
“Ava, I need to leave the school. For both of us,” I tried to plead my case, but she crossed her arms, her face hardening into a mask of stubbornness.
“You’ve got to stay. If you leave now, you’ll make people suspicious.”
She had a point. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself. I bit a fingernail while I thought.
“Listen, there’s a party tonight. It’s at the barn. I want to go. Will you come with me? Try it?”
I wasn’t one for parties. I never had been. That was Ava’s scene. I hated being the ugly duckling, watching all the cute boys circle adoringly around my gorgeous sister. It had a way of making me feel — well — ugly.
“Can we be home by midnight?” I heard myself ask her.
Her face lit up. She clapped her hands and hugged me. “I love you, Greta! You’ll have the best time. I couldn’t leave you behind. You’re way too stressed. It will be good for you to cut loose. I promise. You’ll have a great time!”
She left the study carrel in a flash of pink and fairy dust. Literally, she flashed out and transported herself to some other place. I blinked, and she was gone.
I didn’t realize that I had clenched my teeth until my head and neck started to ache. I tried to relax. She took her power for granted, and was starting to think she was invincible. The farther she slipped into that hole, the more vulnerable I was.
Still, I couldn’t stay mad at Ava. She was my lifeline. She was the only reason I wasn’t under arrest.
12
Dread grew inside me for the rest of the day. I returned to the dorm angry. Ava was forcing me to go to a party that could expose our secret crime.
Heavy choices circled me, like sharks in the water after blood had been spilled. They would devour me if I didn’t get out of the water and quickly. I didn’t feel like getting into it with Ava again. I had to figure out what I was going to do about the party. Sure, I could stay holed up in my room for the night. But parties were risky. They could be dangerous. What if there was underage drinking and Ava lost control?
What if people tried out new magic? Magic defenses had to be updated like computer virus software. There were always new illusions and spells being introduced, innovations being made. Even though Ava was powerful, she didn’t know shield spells to every threat.
Why didn’t Ava see the danger? What had gotten into her that had made her reckless? She understood the stakes as well as I did. She knew she would be executed for her cooperation in falsifying my magic.
Fuming, I stormed into our shared living room without any purpose. Giving myself over to my negative thoughts and worry, I stomped around the room, opening cabinets and slamming them shut; opening the fridge and slamming it closed.
“Problem?” Tabby stood in her bedroom doorway. She was wearing an Illysian Forever t-shirt and shorts and her gym bag was slung over her shoulder. Her dreadlocks were pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Curly tendrils surrounded her face giving her a saintly, almost angelic look.
I snorted. “Ava the Perfect. You don’t understand what it’s like to be her sister.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” She motioned toward a chair in the room. “We can talk about it.”
I shook my head noting her gym bag. I didn’t want her to waste her precious work-out time in a therapy session with me. “It’s okay. I’m over it.”
Tabby shook her head. “Get your sorry-for-yourself rear end into that chair right now.”
In no mood to follow anyone’s orders, I dropped into a different chair and sat facing her. Crossing my arms and scowling, I grumbled, “I’m sick and tired of being Ava’s shadow.”
Tabby leaned in, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked right into my eyes. “Greta, you’re a unique person. You’re not Ava’s shadow. You have gifts and talents all your own. I’m going to tell you something that you’re not going to want to hear, but you need to hear it. You’d be much better off if you started to live your own life. You’re come across as — mean and insecure.”
Her words were like a knife through my heart. Me, mean? “I’m not mean.”
“You don’t try to be mean. It’s just, you’re so defensive.” Tabby’s face was nothing but openness and sympathy, and yet all I felt toward her was rage.
“Defensive? Of course I’m defensive. My sister can do anything. Perfectly. The first time. I’m the screw up, the afterthought, the pity party.”
“People pity you because you’re so closed off. No one thinks Ava is better than you.”
I snorted. My face twisted. I couldn’t keep the ugliness at bay. “You live under a rock, Tabby. Or you’re blind. There isn’t a guy on this campus who doesn’t want to date Ava. There isn’t a girl who doesn’t want to be her.”
“Project much?”
Enraged, I clenched my hands into fists and stood up. “I’m not staying here to have you shame me.”
“Greta, the only person who wants to be Ava is you.”
“You’re wrong,” I yelled. “Dead wrong.” I couldn’t keep the tears at bay. Embarrassed and humiliated, I ran into my dorm room, slamming the door behind me.
Ava found me a little while later. I was lying on my bed, crying into my pillow feeling sorry for myself. She sat on the edge of my bed and put her hand on my back.
“Go away,” I said into my pillow.
“Nope.”
“Go away,” I said louder.
“You don’t have to go to the party,” she said.
I sat up and wiped the tears from my face with my pillowcase. “Really?”
She nodded, staring at the floor. “You were right. It’s not a good idea. Not today, anyway.”
“You’re the best.” I crushed her with a bear hug.
She giggled.
“Why did you change your mind?”
“You knocked some sense into me, I guess. I mean, you were right. With the new law, it’s a lot more dangerous now. I was coming back from the library and I saw new security walking the grounds. There’s been a change. If I reach out with my magic, I can feel it. It’s like electricity crackling in the air — only not good electricity — not like light and warmth. It’s black and slick and creeping.”
“Creepy?”
She didn’t elaborate on the creepy factor. She just said, “So, I agree. For now. Let’s skip the party and stay in. Watch a movie. Eat popcorn.” She paused and then said. “The other thing that occurred to me is that we need to work harder on getting your magic to come to the surface.”
“I’ve
been working on it,” I protested. Though, I had to admit that I practiced bringing my magic up like you might practice piano — it was half-hearted at best most days.
“I’ll be your coach. We’ll work together after classes every day at the barn.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay. Do I have to keep using the candle?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. That’s elementary magic and the best way to bring your power to the surface. Magic loves light. You know that.”
I did. We all did. It was the first law we learned. Magic loves light. It is drawn from light and to light. We didn’t mess with the magic that came from the darkness — like water witch or vampire magic.
I sighed and rested my head on Ava’s shoulder. “Okay, fine. We can keep using the stupid candle.” I gave her another hug. “Thanks.”
She hugged me back. “You’re welcome.”
We grinned at each other, the gargoyle and the princess friends once again.
Ava and I met at the barn in late afternoon. The sky was stained a light persimmon and the color was growing brighter and more dramatic as the sun set. It would have been beautiful had I not been convinced I would be tried and executed in a matter of days.
The barn smelled of dusty hay, rich red clay, and worm-eaten wood. My shoes crunched over the loose rocks that used to form a gravel road here. Once upon a time, before the National Zoo existed, this barn stood on the land near a marsh, and not much else. The Slip gave us back the space we needed by “slipping us” into a place as it had existed in the past. There was no other way we could live in major metropolitan areas. Our sprawling school grounds could never exist inside D.C. otherwise.
Inside the old barn, under a hole in the roof from which sunlight streamed, was a candle squatting on a wooden crate and a stack of books. And Ava.
“Hey,” she said with a weary smile. “Rough day.” She leaned back, placing the palms of her hands into the hay. I tried not to touch the floor. No telling what had pooped on it all those years ago. Or even last week. There were signs of mice all over the place.
I spread a brightly colored blanket on the floor. Trying not to hate the candle on the crate, I fought the negativity inside of me. Since our Freshman year Ava and I had met periodically in this barn and tried to get my magic to light that thing. I had grown to hate it. I had shoved so many of my hopes into that candle. Day after day, trial after trial, all I wanted was to light it.
Ava could do it in a flash. The blink of her silver eyes and the flame flickered to life. That was just the tip of the iceberg as far as her powers were concerned. She could do the most amazing things. Our first year here, for our birthday, she had conjured an entire zoo of animals -- with the ability to talk — roaming school grounds. A choir of otters sang happy birthday to me. They’re my favorite animal. It was very sweet. It made us popular with everyone, well almost everyone, Valerian and his gang of miscreants apparently didn’t like otters.
“You going to sit here dreaming forever? I thought you’d be more motivated to get your magic on,” teased Ava.
“I’m motivated.” I reassured her. “I even put my hair in a ponytail.”
She laughed. I wore my hair in a ponytail most of the time because I meant business, unlike her. Ava was a free spirit and she almost always wore hers down and flowing like a sexy shampoo commercial model.
“I’ll make forward progress on your mousey look if it kills me,” she said.
“It might kill you, you know. Hanging out with me is a capital crime.”
She got serious and nodded. “Right. You’re hanging out with me and I’m the forger, so I’m the one who would be executed.”
“That’s a terrible defense, Ava. I’ve already worked out a plan if I’m discovered. No one will know where my magic came from.”
“Oh right,” Ava cut me off. “Like I wouldn’t be an automatic suspect.”
“If we get our story straight, only one of us will end up dead, Ava. It should be me anyway. I’m the Void.”
Ava grabbed my hand, her eyes glinting like steel. “Don’t you dare say that in front of me,” she hissed. “You’re my sister. You are fierce. You are tough. You are loyal. You are strong. I love you. You will not be discovered. I’ll never let you fall, Greta.”
Passion flowed out of her and nearly knocked me over. I was glad it didn’t because — poop on the floor. Needless to say, I was moved by her words.
“Ava, I can’t let you keep putting your life on the line like this. It’s not a game anymore. This is the real deal. It’s very serious. If we get caught, we die. That girl was only fifteen, and she had been faking for two months. What would they do to us? There are two of us working together and we have been for seven years. YEARS! It’s a capital crime.”
Ava pointed to the candle. “Light it up. Then we don’t have to worry about it.”
I sighed and focused my breathing though it was harder than ever.
“Reach inside of yourself, Greta. Try to find it.” Ava’s words washed over me. I’m pretty sure a little of her magic did, too. She was giving me a little boost today, to find what I was missing, what my heart longed for more than anything else in the world.
If I had magic, I would fit in. I would be secure in who I was. I would have real friends, not pretend friends who liked me just because I was faking magic. I would be able to do my homework. I could do things I couldn’t do now like play team sports.
Team sports were out of the question for me because I wasn’t able to magically enhance my performance and the games moved too quickly for Ava to do it from the sidelines consistently. So I ran cross country. The good thing was, I loved running, and I loved cross country. At least that part of my life wasn’t screwed up.
I pushed, searching within me for a glimmer of light, a spark of hope, something different that hadn’t been there for the last seven years, but all I saw on the inside of my eyelids was darkness. All I heard in my ears was the sound of the wind rustling the leaves as they died on the trees outside.
“Come on, Greta. I know it’s in there,” urged Ava.
I pushed myself harder. I reached my hand toward the candle and opened my eyes. If I could shoot laser beams out of my eyeballs to light the fire, I would have done it. I wanted to do something, anything, supernatural. I pushed and pushed. My will, my soul, my mind, my body — I gave myself over to lighting that candle.
It was an ugly candle. The melted wax on the sides of it had yellowed unevenly. It was squat and sturdy like me.
“Greta focus,” whispered Ava.
Anger and impatience flared inside my chest. Those feelings hurt my heart and suspended my concentration. Sweat beaded on my forehead and pooled under my arms. The air in the barn was suddenly stuffy and close. Black dots swam in front of my eyes.
“Breathe,” said Ava.
I gasped and cool air flooded my lungs. Gripping the sides of the blanket, I waited for the waves of dizziness to subside.
“It’s not going to happen,” I said, my voice breaking. Embarrassed, I said nothing else. Even though Ava and I had been though so much together, I didn’t want her to see me cry. Not tonight. Not when the day had already been so full of anxiety and concern.
“You’ll get this, Greta,” she whispered patting my shoulder. “Let’s go over a few basics and try again.”
I wanted to refuse. Any other day I would have, but I needed to do this not just for me, for her. I needed my magic to work for both of us if we had any chance at a future.
After some time had passed and I just couldn’t push myself any more, I asked Ava to have mercy on me and let me rest. She agreed reluctantly, and we sat together as the cool dusty breeze blew through the barn.
“What does magic feel like?” I asked Ava after a long silence between us.
Funny how in seven years, I had never considered asking my sister what it felt like to shoot bolts of light from her fingertips. Sure, I wished for magic, hoped for magic, prayed for magic, but I never thought about having magic.
What did it feel like?
Ava, tilted her head to one side. She did this when she thought about things difficult to explain. Her auburn hair caught the sunlight and coppery highlights shimmered. She closed her silver-gray eyes and pursed her pink-glossed lips. I could smell the strawberry from where I sat.
“It’s not a feeling exactly.” Her perfect brow furrowed, elegant eyebrows moving closer together. “It’s a knowing. Or a being.” She opened her eyes and smiled, her pearly white teeth glowing. “It’s beautiful.”
She paused. “If it feels like anything, and it hardly does, it’s like my body is carbonated, filled with little bubbles inside and out. You know that feeling you get when you put your face close to a glass of soda that’s just been poured? Dancing bubbles tickle your nose and lips? That’s what it feels like.”
I sat back my hands planted behind me on the blanket. Little bubbles! That sounded so cool. “I can’t wait,” I sighed.
But, I had to wait. My stupid body, which apparently had something against magic, forced me to wait. I was nearly eighteen and so totally and completely normal that I wanted to barf.
To make things even worse, I looked like a troll. Ava, my beautiful, magical twin sister, looked like a cross between a sorceress and a super model. She was tall and willowy like a sapling on growth hormones. I was squat and a tiny bit wide, like a shrub that hadn’t been pruned in a season or two. Even though I ran a ton, I couldn’t get my body to do what Ava’s had.
Ava always smelled like strawberry or chocolate. Always. She could run a marathon and she’d still smell like a box of candy. My feet smelled like Parmesan cheese. I had acne — on my back, my face, my neck.
I wasn’t just plain, I was gross. I was ugly. I knew this because pictures of my sister and me lined the walls of our house, her desk at school, my grandma’s house, the yearbook. The troll and the supermodel side by side. What an awesome duo.
Twins didn’t run in my family, but they happened a lot more often inside the magical world than outside. Ava and I were non-identical, identical twins. The first of our kind, a medical anomaly, a scientific curiosity. We shared the same DNA. We shared the same everything — on paper. The blood work always came back the same — identical twins.
