Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) Read online

  "It might not the next time." I gripped his upper arm and stopped him. "You need to tell me right this minute if I need to worry about more of your past acquaintances trying to kill us."

  Shelton regarded me for a long moment before nodding. "The guys who split my lip wanted money. Thankfully, I was able to take care of that. Like I said, there's bad blood between me and a couple of professors, but they pissed me off when I went to school here, so I got back at them after I graduated." His eyes went distant for a brief period as if trying to remember anything else. "Otherwise, I can't think of anything."

  "I am curious about this bad blood you mention," Cinder said. "Is the blood defective? Whose blood is it?"

  "It's slang," I said in an exasperated voice. I sighed. "Let's go. I'm bushed."

  "Yes," Cinder said, picking twigs from his shirt. "I also have bits of bushes on me from the forest."

  Shelton barked a laugh.

  "I take it you never had the chance to talk to your dad about the arches, did you?" I asked.

  Shelton shook his head. "Nah, between stalking Conroy and Zagg ambushing me, I forgot about it."

  "Well, it might not be necessary now." I told him about MacLean.

  "Holy dog balls in a turtle shell," Shelton said, shaking his head in wonder. "Talk about a blast from the past." He chuckled. "MacLean always loved watching spider bats chase terrorized coeds."

  When we arrived back at Science Academy, I took a long shower, put on clean clothes, and braced myself to talk to Michael. A huge guy, Elyssa's brother possessed the same ninja-quick reflexes as his sister and also like Elyssa, was a dhampyr. I'd only recently discovered he was working—or had been working—for Underborn, the most notorious assassin in the Overworld, not to mention a lying slime-ball who'd manipulated me and Elyssa every chance he had. Why Michael had worked for the man was beyond me.

  After mulling over the past for a good five minutes, I realized I was stalling and dialed him.

  "What is it?" said a deep voice from the other end after two rings.

  "Hello to you, too," I said in a cheery voice.

  Silence.

  When he still said nothing else, I cleared my throat and told him about Kayla.

  "You want me to help Shelton out of a mess," he said in a tone indicating it wasn't a question.

  "I know you don't care for Shelton or me," I said. "But if there's a chance Kayla is innocent—"

  "Okay, I'll do it."

  "Uh, really?"

  "On one condition."

  I tensed. Here it comes. "And that would be?"

  "Help me with Elyssa." For a moment, his low voice almost—almost—bore a sign of emotion.

  "She's still ticked about Underborn," I said.

  "Yes."

  "You know I can't make her do anything, right?" I tried to keep the crack of fear out of my voice. "Even bringing up the subject is like telling her I want to eat puppies for breakfast."

  "I know, but that's my price."

  Holy hell. I wondered how in the world I could ask Elyssa to mend fences with Michael and decided that he was only asking me to help, not to actually perform a miracle. "I'll help. But I can't promise you she'll listen."

  "I can't promise you Kayla is innocent. But I'll look into it." He went silent again, not even breathing loud enough to be heard over the phone. The man has ninja skills for sure.

  I decided to risk asking another question since it related to his problem. "Are you still working for Underborn?"

  "I'm out of his game." He paused. "Underborn isn't on anyone's side, but I thought I could protect Elyssa better from the middle. It worked out in some ways, but not in others. Underborn wanted her to know I was working with him. That's why he brought me along to see Elyssa that day. By the time I figured out who we were going to see, it was too late for me to leave."

  "Why would he want Elyssa to know?" I asked.

  "To show me who was in control. To show me he knew I was trying to manipulate his plans with regards to Elyssa." Michael hissed out a sigh, the first sign of emotion I'd heard. "I thought I was smart enough to avoid his traps and to turn them back on him. I was wrong."

  I didn't know what to say to that. If someone as capable as Michael couldn't outthink the assassin even when it knew it was coming, I had no hope of avoiding Underborn's traps when he blindsided me. "Thanks for being honest. I think that's what Elyssa really needs. She loves you and trusted you. Seeing you work with someone like Underborn destroyed that trust. If you're being completely honest with me, then it's obvious you wanted to protect her. You knew bad stuff was coming, and you did what you could to shield her."

  "Yes."

  "I'd do anything to protect her," I replied. "Maybe that's not the same as being her brother but—"

  "I think you understand. I'll look into your issue."

  The line went dead.

  "That went better than expected," I said to myself since Shelton had gone out for food, and Cinder was off doing whatever golems did when they had nothing better to do.

  I dropped into a chair at one of the desks in the room and spotted the class schedule Miles had given me. Beneath the schedule, he'd listed the books I would need in a neatly quilled scrawl. A nervous cramp gripped my stomach. I'd almost forgotten about classes and hadn't even thought to buy books. I texted Lina and asked her where I could buy books. While I waited for a response, I lay down on the bed and looked at pictures of me and Elyssa.

  Most of them were selfies, with me holding the phone out and snapping the picture with one hand. Elyssa crossed her eyes in one and kissed my cheek in another. My heart felt like a chunk was missing, and it hurt. I hoped her trials were going well, but the selfish part of me wished she'd just hurry the hell up and come give me a kiss.

  I woke up with a start. Looked around the room in confusion. Checked the time. It was almost seven-thirty, an ungodly hour to even think about waking up. I closed my eyes, but something nagged at me. After a moment, I grunted and sat up. A sheet of parchment slid off my chest, and my brain made the connection between what was nagging me and the time. My first class started at eight.

  "Crap!" I said and jumped out of bed.

  Shelton, snoozing on the bottom bunk, mumbled something about me shutting up, and rolled over to face the wall.

  My mind ran a quick calculation on how long it would take me to shower, dress, cross over to the university in the shuttle, and possibly eat along the way. I was pretty good at math, so it only took a moment to realize I had to cut something out of that list. Since I wasn't about to traipse around the school emitting a ripe odor, I decided against cutting a shower from the list. I slid on my flip-flops, wrapped a towel around my waist, and ran into the shared bathroom. Steam filled the tiled space, and all the shower stalls looked occupied. Time ticked on as I waited. To save time, I brushed my teeth and shaved. I heard a curtain slide open and cut off another guy as he made a beeline for it.

  "Sorry," I said in response to his exclamation of surprise.

  After showering at supernatural speed, I rushed back down the hall, nearly busting it on the slick tile floors thanks to my wet flip-flops, and got dressed. I made it to the shuttle station and watched as it drifted away from the platform, jam-packed with students. I knew from yesterday that the Arcane University flying stagecoach had just left from across the valley.

  I checked the time. Fifteen minutes to go. Another stressful thought kicked me in the stomach. I had no idea how to get to class. I checked my notifications and saw an unread text from Lina.

  Download the University guide app on your phone. It'll tell you where everything is.

  Thanking the heavens, I went on the Arc Store and downloaded the app she recommended. I searched for where to buy books, and it traced a winding route that led to the university book store. Then I searched for my first class, Elementary Magic. By the time the coach arrived, I knew I'd have no time to buy books and also make my class in time.

  I piled into the coach along with the othe
r students, my nerves taut and a cold sweat breaking out. This was not the way I wanted to start my college career. The second the shuttle set down on the other side, I jumped off and followed the outlined route. When I reached the end, I looked at the sign outside the closed door and realized it was not Elementary Magic, but Elementary Enchantment. Chest tight, I scanned the nearby rooms and finally spotted the right one. Apparently the app wasn't completely accurate, but it had at least brought me to the right area.

  I eased open the door. It betrayed me with a loud creak. A thin-faced woman with a stern face glared at me as she wrote something in the air with her wand. I gulped and stepped inside.

  "Well, well. The late addition arrives late." She looked me up and down. "This will be your one and only tardy allowance, Mr. Slade. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

  Giggles erupted from the class. I stepped past a partition blocking my view into the room and horror washed over me. The classroom sign hadn't been kidding. This was elementary all right. Miles had put me in a class with little kids.

  Chapter 23

  Humiliation must have turned my face fifty shades of red as I hunted for a desk sized for an adult and failed. Every one of them was built for a munchkin, not a teenager.

  "Find a seat now," the teacher said.

  "But—"

  "Sit!" she said, pointing to an empty desk in the last row. A girl with odd silvery hair sat in the far back corner, isolated by empty desks to either side of her.

  I took the desk to the girl's right, wedging myself into the ridiculously small seat. My knees bowed out to either side, and I had to slump.

  "Very good," the teacher said and turned back to her writing.

  I glanced up at the writing and saw her name. Ms. Crab. What an appropriate name.

  "Now, I want everyone to turn to page ten in their textbooks," Ms. Crab said. Her eyes fixed on me. "Mr. Slade, please read the first paragraph."

  Every head swiveled my way.

  I cleared my throat and glanced helplessly at my empty desk. "I, uh, don't have a book yet."

  Her eyes narrowed. "Stop mumbling and speak clearly, young man."

  "I don't have a book, Ms. Crab."

  She nodded, as if that statement told me everything she needed to know. "I think it's obvious what sort of student you are, Mr. Slade."

  "Please, I'm usually a lot better—"

  "I did not say you could speak," she said in a deadly quiet tone. Her eyes went to the other students. "What is the punishment for being lazy, class?"

  "The dummy cap!" they all shouted at once.

  I almost opened my mouth to ask what they were talking about when a rainbow-colored cap with a spinning propeller atop it floated through the air and landed on my head. My hands automatically went to pull it off, but Ms. Crab flicked her wand, and my hands slapped atop the surface of the desk. Try as I might, I couldn't move them an inch.

  "You, Mr. Slade, are a lazy boy. Until you prove otherwise, you will wear the dummy cap. If you do not have your book tomorrow, or if you show up late, you will wear the cap again." She narrowed her eyes to laser focus. "Do I make myself clear?"

  I gulped and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Yes, Ms. Crab," she said in the slow tone someone usually reserved for a particularly dim-witted student.

  "Yes, Ms. Crab," I said, forcing the words between clenched teeth as anger simmered in my blood.

  "Do not use that tone of voice with me, young man, or I will evict you from this class in a heartbeat."

  I drew in a deep breath, reaching hard for the happy place hiding inside me, and with a fake smile, said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Crab. It won't happen again."

  She gave me a look indicating she didn't believe a word out of my mouth, turned back to the class, and commanded someone else to read the paragraph.

  The girl sitting next to me gave me a shy smile and angled her book so I could read from it, even with my hands still glued to the desk. By the end of class, I wanted to kill Miles. And Shelton. And probably Ms. Crab, too. The class revolved around defining magic, how to use it safely, and that one should always ask permission from their parents before spell casting. I estimated the educational level to be about fifth grade, judging from the ages of my classmates.

  After class ended, Ms. Crab waited until everyone else had filed out before flicking her wand and releasing my hands. "I only allowed you in here because Miles told me you have exceptional potential, young man. But if you think for an instant I'll allow insubordination or tardiness, you had better adjust your attitude." She flicked her wand again and the dummy cap flew from my head and landed neatly on a hat rack in the back corner of the room.

  "Yes, Ms. Crab," I said, resisting the urge to defend myself, curse at her, or pick her up and break her over my knee. The woman's wrinkled face looked tough as old leather—a perfect match for her attitude.

  I shuffled out of the classroom, head hanging low. What a horrible start to the school year.

  I checked the schedule and saw my next class, Elementary Meditation, started in five minutes, which meant I still couldn't go to the book store. Thankfully, the room was just down the hall. Bracing myself, I stepped through the door and into a room reeking of incense. Instead of desks, rugs of various shapes, sizes, and designs lay at regular intervals on the floor.

  A hand touched my arm. "Oh, you must be the Slade boy," said a middle-aged woman wearing what looked like a sari. She pushed back curly rings of brown hair from her face and looked me over with bright blue eyes. "Miles told me all about you." Her voice was soft and dreamy, but excited all at the same time.

  "Nice to meet you, Professor."

  "Belinda, please," she said smiling. "Here, let's get you a foundation and a totem." Before I could say another word, she led me to the wall where even more rugs hung. "Close your eyes, and let the universe guide you, Justin."

  "Uh—"

  "Close your eyes," she repeated in the voice a hypnotist might use and slid her hand across my eyelids. "Now, let the universe tell you which is the right foundation. Hold out your arm."

  "Like this?" I said, keeping my eyes closed and extending an arm straight out in front.

  "Exactly." She turned me around once. "Now walk forward and find your foundation."

  I took two steps, tripped on something, and stumbled forward, barely catching myself on the wall.

  Belinda exhaled a pleased sigh. "Open your eyes, and claim your foundation."

  I followed her instructions and found myself leaning against a black rug with pink cats frolicking on it. "This one?"

  She nodded. "And grab a token from the barrel next to the door without looking inside."

  I pulled the rug from the rack on the wall and walked to the barrel. Avoiding the temptation to look inside, I reached in a hand and pulled out a plastic cat.

  What is it with me and cats? I couldn't help but think of Stacey and Nightliss.

  "How interesting," she said. "Now, please find a place for your foundation, take off your shoes, and relax."

  I saw familiar faces in the room and realized it was the same group from first period. I set my rug next to the silver-haired girl in the back corner of the room. Again, I noticed the clear space around her.

  "I'm Justin," I said, holding out my hand.

  "Hi, Justin," she said, in a quiet voice, glancing at my hand, but not shaking it. "I'm Morgana."

  I knew I was probably freaking her out, thanks to the huge age difference. I realized how Barry Papadopoulos must have felt back in grade school, and not because his name looked impossible to pronounce. He'd been homeschooled for years, but apparently his education hadn't been up to par. Instead of fifth grade, he'd been stuck all the way back in first grade with my group.

  To us, he'd practically looked like a grownup, and we used to ask him all the hard questions: Where's the best place to buy candy? Which superhero has the coolest outfit? Why are girls so dumb?

  I had a feeling these kids wouldn't be a
sking me for advice, especially after my humiliating first impression in Ms. Crab's class.

  Once class started, it only got weirder. Belinda told us to stop, listen, and feel Gaia. It seemed more like a new age class than anything about magic. About the only feeling I got from Gaia was a cramp in my left butt cheek from sitting on the floor too long.

  Arcane History came next. When I entered the room, the teacher looked up from a textbook and did a double take. My chest tightened. It was Zagg.

  He narrowed his eyes and came over to me. "You have news?"

  I nodded. "But that's not why I'm here."

  "Wait a minute." Zagg's eyes went wide. He shuffled through a stack of papers and pulled out one with my name on it. "You're the late addition?"

  My face heated up. "Yeah."

  His eyebrows rose. "Sorry, but this is just, well, pathetic. What's someone your age doing taking Elementary Arcane History?"

  "I don't know, but I'm sure my advisor had a good reason." If he didn't, I was going to kill him.

  Zagg looked at the desks around the room, took one look at how tall I was, and shook his head. "There's an empty classroom just down the hall with adult desks."

  I thanked him and went down the hall to grab one, moving an empty midget desk in the back row to make room. By the time I returned, my classmates filled the room, buzzing with chatter. I saw Morgana sitting in her usual back corner. She seemed to be the only person not talking.

  The bell rang, and Zagg closed the classroom door. "Who's the founder?" he said in a loud, exuberant voice.

  "Ezzek Moore!" everyone shouted.

  "What was his favorite color?"

  Shouts ranging from gray to pink went up from the kids.

  Zagg laughed. "Did he like chocolate?"

  Kids giggled and looked around at each other, obviously unsure of the answer.

  Zagg regarded them with an amused look for a moment and then said, "Of course he loved chocolate. Who doesn't?"

  What did chocolate have to do with anything? Screw this elementary education. What was next on the menu—hand puppets?

  Zagg leapt atop his desk, a staff gripped in his hand. "Today you're going to hear about Ezzek's fight with Giuseppe Garibaldi. Can anyone tell me who Giuseppe was?"