Bianca had never been on a plane, much less left the state. Their class field trip to Washington, DC, to see all the monuments didn’t count.

“Bianca?” Leila prodded her. “Where to?”

Bianca held up her phone. There was no service in the djinn plane, obviously, but her phone’s wallpaper would do just fine. “Here,” she said. “The Sydney Opera House.” The unique scalloped roof of the building glowed in the dark of the desert. She’d read about their special production of Sweeney Todd, where they handed out free ponchos and sprayed fake blood on audience members. She’d been obsessed ever since.

Leila shook her head. “Wow, you really picked the place farthest away from Ayers, huh?” Leila looked at Bianca’s phone clock. “Australia’s way ahead of us. It’ll be broad daylight!”

“There’s a tree over there in the photo. Just port us behind that,” Bianca huffed. Why did Leila have to make everything so complicated?

“I’m still in my muck boots,” Leila protested.

Bianca could tell Leila was stalling, that her sister was scared of seeing just how far she could push herself. “Leila,” she said, gripping her sister’s shoulders. “You can do this, okay? You just took down a dozen djinn, told off your boyfriend, and teleported us to the djinn plane. Australia will be a piece of cake.”

Her irises began to grow gold with power. “Okay,” Leila exhaled.

“Okay,” Bianca repeated for moral support.

“Lemme see your phone.” Leila held out her hand and stared at the screen. She clenched Bianca’s upper arm. “Sydney, Sydney, Sydney,” Leila repeated to herself.

Bianca watched their feet. Sure enough, flames began to dance over their shoes. “Oh, hell yes,” Bianca said, more to herself than to her sister. “Sydney, here we come!”

And then they were gone.

Bianca blinked, her eyes adjusting from the dark to the hot December sun.

“Gah!” a jogger yelled, surprised by the twins stepping out from behind a tree. But the jogger kept chugging past, shaking their head as if Bianca and Leila were just mere annoyances and not supernatural appearances.

“Phew,” Bianca said. “That was close.”

Leila said nothing, her jaw slack, her eyes wide. There stood the Sydney Opera House in all its glory. Leila looked fresh off the turnip truck, gawp­ing in her cold-weather farm getup as a truly surprising number of joggers flowed past them.

Bianca followed Leila’s gaze to the building, but instead of feeling as awestruck as her sister, she just felt wrong. Maybe it was the same teleportation sickness she’d had when they’d gone to the djinn plane, but instead of feeling elated, Bianca just felt unmoored. This wasn’t Ayers, this wasn’t Virginia, this wasn’t even the United States. Everything felt too bright and overwhelming, the hot sun making her dizzy, the shining water behind the opera house twinkling too brightly. Where were the kudzu vines? Where were the mountains to orient her?

“Excuse me!” another jogger shouted. The twins quickly stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass. They stood right where the photo from Bianca’s wallpaper must have been taken, yet instead of marveling over the fact that they had gone thousands of miles in a matter of seconds, all Bianca could think was Even the grass feels weird here.

“Come on,” Leila said, noticeably more psyched than Bianca. “Let’s go take a look.”

“Okay,” Bianca said, trying to sound positive. But she couldn’t help it. Leaving Ayers was supposed to solve everything, so why did Bianca feel the same? “Let’s go.”

They walked up to the opera house steps and looked at the harbor. It was odd seeing Christmas lights strung up in the sweltering heat. She’d never seen Santa in a swimsuit, but there were ads and decorations with a very sunburnt St. Nick. She flinched at the parrots in the trees, which felt unnatural to her. Everything felt off, and even the poster for the Sweeney Todd production couldn’t cheer her up.

What is wrong with me? she wondered. I finally get out of Ayers and all I want is to go back.

“Bianca?” Leila prodded her, her eyes still sparkling from all the new sights and sounds. “You okay?”

Bianca shrugged. “Can we go back now? I don’t feel great.” She gestured to the pools of sweat under her long-sleeved black shirt, making it seem like the heat was really the problem, and not this empty feeling of getting what you wanted and realizing it wasn’t what you thought it would be. Not even a little bit.

Leila gave her a concerned look. “Okay.” She stared longingly back at the harbor, at the glittering boats and the gorgeous bridges and at one girl who had an entire eight-pack on display as she jogged past them. Bianca stared too. What was it with Australia and its joggers?

Leila led Bianca to a tiny alcove around the side of the opera house. It was already the morning of Christmas Eve here, and the building still hadn’t opened. She found them a tiny crack in the shade. “Home,” Leila said to herself, closing her eyes. Bianca did the same, grateful for this seasick feeling to finally go away.