Woad was part of the cabbage family. As far as vegetables went, it was an underdog. Eaten by peasants. Shunned in establishments of fine dining. Sylvie never understood why it got such a bad rap. She’d always been fond of cabbage.Stuffed. Shredded. Braised.
But in this moment, it was something more. It waspower.
The Commis Contest
BY THE TIMESYLVIE AND THE OTHER KIDS STEPPED BACK OUTSIDE, the sky was dusted with pink and orange hues. Shimmering banners hung across the trees, sparkling like strings of Christmas lights:WELCOME TOBRINDILLE’SANNUALCOMMISCONTEST.
Rows of colorful tents dotted the courtyard and flyers drifted through the air. Grown-ups wearing visitor badges were streaming through. A little boy giggled as his dad hoisted him onto his shoulders.
Sylvie was now marching with Georgia, and the other first-year students, in rows of two toward the Brindille gates, where the parade would soon begin.
Her elbow pressed against the bag in her pocket. The only reason she was here, taking in this scene, was because of Flora’s quick thinking. In the cellar, Kitty had proven to be more than just a quirky instructor. When poked too hard, she turned into a protective lioness. After Bass and his agents had cleared out, Sylvie had prepared herself for an onslaught of questions. But instead, Kitty had launched into a speech about Jingles, an amazing tabby cat—turned frog—of unknown breed. At the end, she reminded everyone that greatness doesn’t come from your background. Like a recipe, it’s made one step at a time, action by action.
But the lack of suspicious questioning had somehow left a void. Now, it was filling Sylvie with guilt.What if Bass is right? What if I am wrong?Part of Sylvie wanted to toss the woad away. To make a different choice.But then what?Bass had left no doubt about his intentions. The game was rigged. He wanted Sylvie out.
“So, how exactly does this licorice stick thing work?” asked Georgia, waving the FizzleFott’s Fire Wand.
Sylvie blinked. “Sorry. What was the question?”
“This thing that looks like licorice, how does it work?” Georgia stared at the crimson rope with the same look of curiosity and suspicion she’d given the cwtch.
Funny, until now Sylvie hadn’t even noticed.It really does look like a piece of licorice. Red and twisted.But there was one major difference. This had sparks bursting in the center, like tiny fireflies.
“It’s a FizzleFott’s product,” said Sylvie. “Remember the candy company I mentioned? Anyway, they make loads of wacky stuff. Fizzing fruit candies. Edible chocolate banners. Sour Stick pins … flavored fireworks.”
Georgia paused. “Flavoredfireworks?”
Sylvie nodded. “They actually let youtastemetal salts… . I like Galactic Grape best… . The Fire Wands may look like licorice, but they taste more like Hot Tamales.”
Georgia pinched the stick tentatively between her fingers. “And I thought thefirebit was just because of the flames inside… . Spicy foods make me sweat.”
“Seriously? Hot Tamales aren’t spicy,” said Sylvie, as they wound their way across the grounds.
“Maybe not to you,” said Georgia, eyeing a girl who was setting up her booth.
Orange orbs floated over her head like a string of jack-o’-lanterns, forming the words:Latika’s Laddoo.
“Don’t worry. We’re not eating these today. They also work as sparklers,” said Sylvie, pulling her gaze back toward their marching procession. “Once we toss them into the air, they’ll fuse together, like a giant bundle of shimmering sticks.”
“Ah! The Brindille school symbol … I get it now,” said Georgia.
The line of students came to a halt in front of the iron gates.
Kitty, who was standing at the front, turned to face them. “The parade will begin here shortly. Once it does, we’ll wind our way back up the path. Your partner is the person marching next to you. Please be mindful of your Fire Wands. They are designed to fuse togetherwhen tossed.However, last year, we had someone trip. His fused around his leg. I’d rather we don’t have a repeat of that mess. Now, on my signal, each pair of students will throw their wands into the air, like this.” Kitty released the two she’d been clutching. They spun upward, splitting into pieces and then reforming in a dazzling display.
“Wow!” exclaimed Georgia. A giant bundle of shimmering sticks floated into the sky like an array of balloons. “The sparklers we have back home just throw a few sparks, then fizzle out.”
Sylvie had to admit, “This is cool.”
“Now, we’ll begin with you two,” said Kitty, pointing to a scrawny boy with glasses and a girl with a thick tawny braid. “About every twenty feet, you’ll see a white marker. That signals the next pair to toss their Fire Wands up.” She pointed to Sylvie and Georgia. “Except for you two. Pips will release their wands at the very end, once Godard is on the stage. Understood?”
Sylvie and Georgia nodded. Somewhere in the distance, music started to play.
“Good. Now, that’s our cue. Remember. Walk. Smile.” Kitty gesticulated. “Wave and toss. Here we go!”
With that, they were off, marching back in a festive procession. Sylvie did her best to smile and wave as the school song started to play.
Stronger when we stand together.
