FIVE.2

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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.

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