Mirroring Tassadu, Aissaba held the pebble to her forehead. Immediately, she could hear Cassandra and Orion making very little sense – as if they were speaking in code.

“Magpie,” said Cassandra. “Goldfinch,” said Orion. “Robin,” said Cassandra. “Wood…” said Orion. “...Pecker” said Cassandra. And they both burst into laughter.

Aissaba made a face at Tassadu that said, What?

He gave back a shrug and a raise of the eyebrows that said, Kid language?

In their fourth year, Aissaba and Tassadu had designed a language for their year-long project – one that the Master of Language himself had dubbed, “Not terrible” (and he was hard to please.) The phonemes consisted entirely of facial expressions – or at least, that had been the plan. They’d grudgingly allowed other bodily movements, gestures, and even the occasional grunt. It had received the equivalent of a B- and was full of flaws, but it was theirs.

“Better now?” said Cassandra.

“It’s just that I always lose at rock, paper, scissors,” said Orion glumly.

“You didn’t lose!” said Cassandra.

“Yeah, but I could tell you wanted it more,” he said. “And you’re a girl, so they were going to let you go first anyway.”

“So… you threw all your pebbles at once?”

In the silence, Aissaba’s face said, Why no talking? to which Tassadu replied Making faces? And sure enough, both twins burst into giggles that went on for several minutes. Whenever Aissaba thought it was over, one of them would snort and set the other one off again. She could tell from Tassadu’s face that he was disturbed. Yes, they had their own inside jokes and private language. Yes, they’d shared plenty of contagious laughing fits. But listening to twelve year olds do it was uncomfortable – calling into question whether Aissaba and Tassadu might, in fact, be too old to keep doing it themselves for much longer.

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When the snorting contest concluded, Orion admitted, “I guess I just wanted to jump off the cliff, you know? Because it was there. And nothing was stopping me.”

“I know,” said Cassandra. “But next time you see a cliff with no railing, just pretend I’m Dad.”

Orion snorted but thankfully failed to restart the giggling world championships. “He’d find my body at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and still ground me for life.”

“And take away the Sega,” said Cassandra.

“I mean it’s his old Sega,” said Orion. “The Sega is (and always will be) a privilege not a right.” Orion said this in a gruff voice that did cause a giggle meltdown.

Behind Tassadu, down the hallway of vines and flowers, Aissaba saw a massive shadow emerge from one of the classrooms. She blinked. It was the Master of Life. There was no way this was a coincidence – two of the Masters in one day? This never happened.

Sure enough, the Master of Life began to approach, coming down the hallway as quickly as a woman with a thousand tentacles can. In Aissaba and Tassadu’s secret language, the word for Master was a scratch behind the ear, which Aissaba did quite vigorously now, flinging her eyes over Tassadu’s shoulder.

You joking? said Tassadu. The word for “joke” was a bite of the lower lip, raised eyebrows forming the question. Seeing a dragon bite his lip was the kind of thing that might have sent Aissaba into her own giggle meltdown under different circumstances.

She bit her lip back at him and shook her head.

“Aissaba!” called out the Master of Life with one of her many mouths, “You’re looking splendid these days!”

Aissaba deflated. Would it be appropriate to dart into the bathroom? Sling some nonsense with the Johnsons? Magpie, goldfinch, Sega, snort. It was tempting – letting Tassadu absorb the encrypted compliments. Two reminders in one day that she was “looking splendid” and “doing so well” these days was two too many.

But the Master of Life was already upon them, tentacles everywhere, hugging her with them and running them affectionately through her hair. Ambushed by a monstrosity of kindness. A hundred mouths, a rain of compliments – some directed at her, but most at Tassadu, who had been her star student, once upon a time.