Blaze was not particularly happy that he was being forced to go to Sir Mallard's school. Volunteering shouldn't be forced, he thought grumpily as he walked down the New York City streets. The air was heavy with humidity and the sky was thick with dark clouds. Blaze's shirt clung to his skin, sticky and irritating, and the feeling did not improve his sour mood. Other New Yorkers seemed on edge as well; they walked briskly, clenching closed umbrellas and briefcases as they sped down into the subways.

When Blaze reached the Starbucks, there was already a long queue of men and women waiting for their morning coffee. But there were also a surprisingly large number of boys milling around a crossing light outside. One of them—a blond about fourteen—spotted Blaze approaching, and his eyes widened. "Blaze?" the boy cried in confusion. "What are you doing back here?"

"Hey Bobby." Blaze knew the boy; he was the younger brother of his friend, Jake Miller. Blaze hadn't seen Jake in a few months. He had gotten a job in a London spell bookshop immediately after graduation, and neither of them was too good at keeping in touch. "I'm helping out around Sir Mallard's today."

"Community service?"

"Kind of. Not voluntary though."

"What did you do?" asked a small boy with dark curly hair. He couldn't have been older than ten.

Blaze did his best not to wince. "I accidentally blew up that building where the Congregation was staying."

"No way," another little boy gasped, gazing up at him with a look of wonder. "That was you?"

"Of course it was him!" Bobby said with a grin. "He and my brother, when they went here... they knew how to mess things up."

Blaze tried to laugh, but he wasn't sure if Bobby had been giving him a compliment.

"Hey, it's ten of," one of the boys said with a glance at his watch. "We're going to be late." He grabbed the door to the Starbucks, pulled it open with a tug, and they all piled inside.

The café greeted them with a blast of air conditioning. Blaze joined the queue of adults, reaching into his pocket for some spare change as the younger boys headed for the bathroom. One at a time, they disappeared behind the swinging door.

Blaze kept an eye on the bathroom as he waited. Sure enough, just a few seconds later, the door swung open and the boys strode out, beelining out of the café—but their postures were a little too perfect, their smiles a little too wide, and their steps a little too fast.

Maybe they'll let me tweak the return illusions, Blaze thought as he watched the "boys" leave the coffee shop. Sir Mallard's School had set a spell over the restroom door that created a temporary illusion of any wizard who entered its doorway. This precaution was meant to dispel any suspicion about the several young boys with backpacks that would enter the bathroom in the morning and not come out until mid afternoon. Blaze had always admired the craftsmanship of the spell, even if it had gotten a bit glitchy over time. It was rumored that the famous illusion-crafter Joseph Beckett had placed the initial spell on the door himself.

After depositing some coins into the tip jar—a sort of thank you for letting us use your business as a school entrance—Blaze headed into the bathroom himself. He pushed against the swinging door, but as soon as his foot hit tile, he felt his skin ripple with a jolt of magic. The floor disappeared, his stomach flew up into his chest, and a whirl of color whooshed in front of his eyes. A second later, the floor reappeared under his feet, harder than he had anticipated. Losing his balance, he tumbled to the ground.

"Damn it," he muttered, his body pressed to the linoleum.

The snickers of students made him look up. The portal had dropped him off in the east wing where the walls were made entirely of glass. Past the large windows, he could see marbled grey skies and New Yorkers rushing by, oblivious to the school that lingered between dimensions.

"So, someone came back to pay Sir Mallard's a visit?"

Blaze craned his neck upwards. A young male teacher stared down at him with a hint of amusement. Blaze recognized him instantly. "Mr. Celivari!"

The teacher grinned. "I thought only Level One students trip after the portal ride?"

"I haven't been through that thing in over two months. Cut me some slack."

Mr. Celivari chuckled. "I'm just giving you a hard time. That portal has been acting wonky this week; maintenance is set to fix it tomorrow." He held out his hand and pulled Blaze into a standing position. "How have you been? What have you been up to?"

"You mean besides blowing up buildings?"

Mr. Celivari winced. "I heard about that." He shrugged. "But hey, it happens. When I was fifteen, I accidentally started a forest fire. Almost wiped out a couple hundred squirrels."

"But did that force the Congregation out of the state?"

Celivari shook his head and lowered his voice. "When the Congregation finally gets the balls to stand up to a seventeen-year-old, they'll come back to New York."

Blaze couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Celery."

He sighed. "Why did your grade start calling me that? Now all my ES students do."

"Maybe it has something to do with your ridiculous last name?" Blaze answered with a laugh. "Still teaching the Everyday Spells courses then?"

"Of course," Celery answered, glancing at his watch. "And my Gamma class starts in three. We better get going."

"We?" Blaze repeated, joining him as he started down the hall. "Am I helping you today?" He couldn't help but sound hopeful; Celery had been his favorite teacher.

But Celery shook his head. "Unfortunately not. You and Helio are supposed to help out Mr. Duval in Spell Lab 3."

Blaze frowned. "Helio's here today?"

"According to the teacher's lounge gossip."

Blaze did his best not to groan. "Great. And who's Mr. Duval?" Blaze couldn't recall his face. "What does he teach?"

"Level Four AS."

"Advanced spells?" This time Blaze actually groaned out loud.

Mr. Celivari shot him an incredulous look. "Oh come on, Blaze. It's Level Four. AS for them is even easier than my class."

"But it's full of ten-year-olds that can barely use their powers," he protested. "Something exploded in nearly every AS class I took before I turned thirteen."

"Are you sure that wasn't just because you were there?" Celery asked with a grin, and Blaze was unable to come up with a retort.

They soon reached a section of the school where the walls were no longer made of glass. Instead, twisted metal beams formed a crude archway, and the joints were welded together and embedded with sparkling stones. "Here's my room," Mr. Celivari said at the first door, and then pointed down the hall. "Mr. Duval's room is three down on the right."

"Thanks Celery."

"Anytime." The teacher opened his classroom door. Blaze could hear the sound of fourteen-year-old boys laughing, and he even spotted Bobby Miller bobbing his head to some joke. "Take care, Blaze," Celery said. "It was nice bumping into you!" And with that, he disappeared into his classroom, forcing Blaze to head down the hall and enter Mr. Duval's room.

Blaze vaguely recognized the classroom when he stepped inside. It was dimly lit and had two rows of black tables that ran its length. Ten-year-old boys dangled over the backs of their chairs like monkeys, shouting to their friends. Blaze noticed that the little boy with curly hair was deep in conversation with the other boy at his table.

"Mr. Merg, I take it?" Mr. Duval asked from behind his desk. He was a very old man, with pure white hair, a humped back, and an ugly sweater vest.

"Yes sir," Blaze answered, instinctively straightening up. The other students seemed to notice Blaze now and, as if on cue, they lowered their voices.

Mr. Duval nodded his head stiffly. "I was told I was going to have two assistants today, you and a Mr. Helio Ruke?"

"Yeah, that's what I heard," Blaze said. "But I haven't seen him."

Mr. Duval nodded again, his lips forming a thin line. "Fine. We'll start without him for now." He turned his watery blue eyes to the class. "Okay, settle down!" Blaze thought his voice sounded like a cross between a frog's croak and a scratchy record player. "Today we're moving onto a new subject: ignis. For those who need a brush up on their Latin, ignis translates into fire."

Exclamations of joy echoed throughout the room. Mr. Duval spent a moment waiting for the boys to quiet down before continuing.

"One of the most important things to know about fire is that it needs oxygen to thrive. So you need to take the surroundings into account when—"

The sound of the door opening made the teacher pause. He turned to his right, his eyes brushing over the figure standing in the doorway. It was a teenager with jet-black hair and a casual smirk: Helio.

"You're late," Mr. Duval said bluntly.

Helio shrugged off his words, his hazel eyes blasé. "I was visiting someone."

Mr. Duval's face reddened and his hand started to shake. "You're here to help out, Mr. Ruke. Not socialize!"

"Sorry, sorry," Helio dismissed, strolling over to where Blaze stood besides the front desk. "Geesh," he whispered, "what's up his ass?"

"Shut up," Blaze warned quietly. Luckily, the teacher was too deaf to hear Helio's jibe; instead, he turned to the class and continued with his lesson.

"So," Helio whispered, leaning in so that his mouth was inches away from Blaze's ear, "I heard you almost made the Congregation flee the country. You better at least have made it to second base to have caused a national state of emergency."

"Shut up," Blaze repeated in a sharp hiss. "What are you even doing here today? I doubt you came here out of the goodness of your heart."

Helio didn't respond, but the flush on his face gave Blaze just the tiniest hint of satisfaction.

Blaze and Helio spent about twenty minutes standing awkwardly in the front of the room before Mr. Duval dropped his chalk back onto the ledge. His wrinkled fingers were coated in white film. "All right. Everyone pair up and start drawing the rune circle. I'll be walking around the room to observe your progress."

Blaze watched as the kids slid out of their chairs and crossed the room. Most of them picked a different partner from the one at their table; obviously they knew by now who was a good rune-drawer. Blaze had stuck with Jake Miller for an entire year even though they both couldn't draw runes to save their lives. With all the various injuries, fires, and accidents they had caused, they had had a fairly exciting, if not entirely productive, year.

"Um, Mr. Merg?"

Blaze looked down. The curly haired boy was in front of him, fumbling with a green notebook.

"Yes?"

"Um," the boy started, his eyes locked onto his sneakers, "I was wondering if you'd be my partner?"

"Me?" Blaze asked incredulously. Helio snickered at his side.

"That sounds like a great idea!" Mr. Duval croaked from behind them, startling Blaze. Then the teacher's eyes flicked over to Helio distastefully. "And I think that you, Mr. Ruke, would benefit from helping out young Mr. Wormwood with his rune."

Helio scowled, but didn't dare refuse. "Yes, sir," he murmured, slipping his hands in his pocket as he went over to the only other boy without a partner.

Blaze glanced back down at the kid in front of him. His dark hair was thick and curly, and his skin was a warm brown. He cradled a green notebook in his arm, and gripped a piece of chalk in his right hand.

"You don't have to call me Mr. Merg," Blaze said finally. "Blaze is fine."

"Okay." The kid smiled. "I'm Carlos."

"Nice to meet you," Blaze nodded, following the boy as he made his way to a free section of floor.

Carlos plopped down on the ground and flipped open his notebook, revealing a drawing similar to the one on the board. Blaze settled down next to him, trying not to sit on the other ten-year-olds who sprawled around him. He watched as Carlos started drawing; the boy's hand shook as he formed the first symbols on the slate floor.

"Your infinity loop isn't connected," Blaze said, his finger hovering an inch above the chalky lines. "Don't draw it like two overlapping circles. Try making a sideways eight instead."

Carlos nodded, smudging away his mistake and trying again. He didn't talk much; he was focused on the task at hand. The only time he spoke was to ask Blaze to check his work. On the whole, Blaze was fairly bored, but he served his punishment dutifully, if not a bit unenergetically.

"Draw the freaking ckarik!" Helio suddenly shouted, causing Blaze to jerk his head in his direction. Helio's partner, a small redhead, was holding back tears as Helio cried, "God, it's not that hard!"

Blaze groaned. "Come on, Helio. Give the kid a break."

Helio glared at him. "You're just standing up for him because you couldn't cast anything when you were ten. But he should know how to draw a basic ckarik by now!"

Blaze had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but Carlos announced "I'm done!" and he was forced to turn away. Chalk dusted the crown of the boy's head, and his cheek was streaked with white powder. He looked tired, but there was a smile on his face. "How does it look?"

Blaze glanced over the rune one more time. "Looks good. Now what?"

Carlos wiped at his forehead. "Mr. Duval makes us wait until everyone's done, and then we'll all read the spell together. He says that there's a higher chance for us to tap into our magic if we read as a group."

"Have you gotten anything to work yet?"

He frowned, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Not in this class. But last week, in ES 4, I managed a Lifter Spell." He looked up at Blaze, gauging his reaction.

Blaze nodded. "That's cool."

Carlos frowned, looking down at the rune he'd just drawn. "We only levitated pencils, but it was my first time, and I was pretty proud."

Blaze immediately realized that his casual response had upset the kid. "You should be proud! I didn't manage my first spell for years. Helio was right; I couldn't tell you what a ckarik was when I was your age, let alone draw one."

"Really?"

Blaze shrugged as if it didn't matter, although the old wound still ached.

Carlos still seemed unsure. He lowered his voice. "A lot of kids got their pencils to race each other across the room. They were really good at it."

"Listen," Blaze said. "You just have to find your niche."

"What?"

"Niche. It's like the thing that works best for you. I'm not the best with most spells, but I can make a pretty decent illusion and I didn't learn that until ES 8 with Celery. But once I did, everything just clicked. You just have to find what you're good at and run with it."

"I guess." Carlos looked over at the rune wistfully, the white markings staining the stone floor.

"It'll happen one day," Blaze said, staring off into space. "You just have to keep trying to find where you belong."