The school bell that signaled the end of the day was met with a rush of activity. But while students gathered their notebooks and rushed out of the classroom, Helio and Blaze remained behind, scrubbing the inactivated chalk runes off the floor with wet sponges.

"Why can't we use a rune to clean these up?" Helio asked as he washed off another shoddily drawn circle.

"A bit of elbow grease never hurt anyone, Mr. Ruke," Mr. Duval said as he slipped on a thick rain jacket. "Thank you both for your help today. Once you finish up with those, make sure the door is shut and you are free to go." He nodded and then hobbled out into the hallway.

"Thank God he's gone," Helio muttered, standing up and chucking his sponge into a bucket. "I thought today would never end."

Of the ninety or so kids that had done the activity throughout the day, only two had managed the spell. The partners, both in the Alpha class, had drawn a neat rune and had said the spell with just enough magical edge to create a small flame.

Then they had collapsed.

Beside that small incident, the day had been rather uneventful, and Blaze was glad to be leaving.

"Later," Helio said, his strides long as he headed for the door. He stepped out into the hallway without a single look back.

Blaze took a second longer, making sure the floor was clear of chalk dust before grabbing his jacket and heading out into the hall.

The corridor was completely filled with children, their bodies pressed against one another in a strange mosh pit of colored t-shirts and backpacks. Blaze joined in, tall enough to see over most of their heads, and was swept along in the rushing current towards the east wing.

The weather had turned from dreary humidity into a monsoon. Rain slammed down on the sidewalk, splattering the New Yorkers who ran by the window.

Blaze winced as he stared out the windows, imagining the fifteen-minute walk home. It wouldn't be fun. Unless...

Turning on his heels, Blaze started the other way, pressing against the current of students until he reached a single door at the very end of the hall: a second exit. This area of the hall was said to be muddled by fickle magic, as evidenced by the ever-changing walls. One day there would be a row of glowing emeralds jutting out at eye level; the next they would vanish, replaced by smooth concrete or hunks of obsidian. The exit was just as unpredictable. You could find yourself up a tree in Central Park, under a cardboard box in an alley, or shoved in an empty elevator in a neighboring building.

Or right across the street from my apartment, Blaze thought. It was a gamble, but he figured he didn't have too much to lose. So he tugged at the doorknob.

Immediately he felt a heavy pressure on his chest, and he was falling into an abyss. Magic tugged on all parts of his body, pricking his skin as locations flashed before his eyes: green trees, grey buildings, blue water. It was disorienting and more uncomfortable than usual, and he couldn't wait for it to stop.

A moment later, he landed on his feet hard, but miraculously remained standing. The rain felt like ice on the back of his neck.

Blaze looked around and recognized where the portal had dropped him off. It was the same construction spot where he had drawn the transport runes to New Jersey. He recognized the building façade, the blue plywood walls, and the fizzled security camera.

It's strange to be back here, he thought, glancing at the ground as if he could still see the rune he had so painstakingly drawn on the sidewalk. Of course it was gone, but he could still imagine it in his mind's eye and the way it had subtly glowed as he had been whisked away.

"Agh!"

A crashing sound and a strangled sob made Blaze wheel around, his hand reaching instinctively into his pocket for a piece of chalk. "Who's there?" Blaze called out.

"Ow," was the response he got.

Blaze recognized the voice. "Carlos?" he asked, jogging towards a crumpled heap on the ground behind a pile of two-by-fours. The boy looked up at him, an embarrassed smile on his face.

"Hi Mr. Merg."

"Blaze," he corrected, helping the boy to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you use this exit, and I've never used it before, so I decided to try it out." He looked around. "Where are we?"

"A construction site. But I've been here before," Blaze said. He could feel the rain weighing down his hair and seeping through his clothes. "We better get a move on if we don't want to start melting."

"Huh?" Carlos asked, wrapping his arms around himself as he followed Blaze out the plywood door.

"It's a non-er joke," Blaze explained. "There's a movie, The Wizard of Oz, with an evil witch who melts when she touches water."

"That doesn't happen."

"I know."

They continued down the sidewalks, sliding past people as they walked home. Or at least, Blaze walked home. He couldn't tell if the boy was following him or just happened to live nearby. Blaze glanced back at him; the young boy's face was contorted and he hugged his body, shivering in the cold.

"Here," Blaze said, slipping off his jacket and handing it over. "It's a bit wet, but it should help."

Carlos paused for a moment, unsure of what to do, before finally accepting it and slipping it on. "Th-thanks," he said gratefully.

"Don't mention it," Blaze said, although now he was freezing. It was hard to believe that it was summer; he was thankful that his building was only a few blocks away.

"You know what would be good right about now?" Carlos commented, rushing alongside him. His voice sounded a bit grim. "A fire."

Blaze winced. "Still beating yourself up over that?"

"I just couldn't get the spell to work!" he complained as the wind ruffled his soaked hair. "I know I can do it. But sometimes it just doesn't happen."

"That's how it is when you're younger," Blaze said. And sometimes when you're older.

"I guess," Carlos murmured, his eyes downcast. He wrapped his arms around himself more tightly, a tremor running across his skin as the wind picked up. "Was I saying it right at least?" he asked. "I think the rune circle was fine, but maybe the incantation was wrong? "

"It sounded okay to me."

Carlos frowned. "It's only four words! I should be able to do it." He closed his eyes for a second and pressed his lips together. "Ignis i conjuro te."

Blaze paused as the incantation struck a familiar chord. The air stilled for a moment, as if absorbing the words, and his skin tingled with a reassuring vibrato. Magic.

And then, flickering in front of him, floating in midair like a will-o'-the-wisp, was a small flame of fire.

Blaze's eyes widened. "Carlos, you did it!" Blaze shook his head. "And without the rune or anything or...Carlos?"

The ten-year-old had frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes wide, his body stiff with excitement... or at least, that's what Blaze took his stance for at first. But then he noticed the way Carlos' eyes were bulging in his sockets and how his short fingers were clawing at the collar of the jacket, clumsily working to his throat.

"Carlos!" Blaze shouted, reaching for the boy as he gasped for air. He was suffocating, choking on something, and Blaze floundered to help. He pulled Carlos in close, attempting the Heimlich maneuver as the boy thrashed weakly in his grip, but whatever was obstructing his airway wouldn't budge. Carlos' chest swelled as he tried to draw air into his lungs, but after a few more frantic seconds, the boy went limp, unconscious.

"Carlos! Carlos wake up!" The boy was draped awkwardly in his arms, a ragdoll with paling skin and wet clothing. Blaze immediately laid him down on his back like he'd seen on the posters in public buildings, attempting chest compressions. But after a few tries, there was no visible change.

Blaze looked up, his eyes darting around. There weren't many people on the street, but a man talking on his cell phone under a black umbrella strolled by. Without thinking, Blaze jumped up, yanked the cell out of his hand, and clumsily pressed three buttons: 9-1-1.

Ignoring the man's protests, he spoke to the emergency operator, his voice unnecessarily loud. A small crowd started to form around Carlos' prone body, but Blaze paid them no heed. He kept a death-like grip on the phone, listening to the dispatcher, following her smooth commands as he clambered back to the ground. More chest compressions. An attempt at CPR. Repeat.

An ambulance and a police car arrived less than five minutes later, their lights cutting through the rain like lasers. Paramedics worked quickly, swinging Carlos up off the ground onto a stretcher; his arm hung limply off the gurney. He was still dressed in Blaze's long-sleeved jacket, though his bright yellow t-shirt peeked out from the neckline. Even his eyes were open slightly, as if he were just resting. But his pupils were glazed and his skin was as cold as stone.

Blaze stood as the paramedics worked, clenching his hands, hoping the pain of his nails digging into his palms would be enough to distract him from the pain tearing at his chest. He wished that the rain would drown out his sorrows, leaving him numb to an unjust world. A world that continued to rush around him, uninhibited by the death that had occurred no more than a foot away.