Master Rockmaple, who had been holding his whistle in one hand, twirled it thoughtfully. "These tests aren't all obvious," he said. "At least try, Callum. If you fail, we move on to the next one."
Call threw up his hands. "Fine. Fine." He stalked toward the rope ladder and put one hand on it. He deliberately put his left leg on the lowest rung and braced his weight on it, reaching up.
Pain shot up his calf and he dropped back down to the floor, still gripping the ladder. He could hear Jasper laughing behind him. His leg ached and his stomach felt numb. He looked up the ladder again, toward the red rubber ball at the very top, and felt his head start to throb with pain. Years and years of being made to sit on the bleachers, of limping behind everyone when they were running laps, rose up behind his eyes and he glared furiously at the ball that he knew he couldn't reach, thinking, I hate you, I hate you, I hate -
There was a sharp boom, and the red ball caught on fire. Someone shrieked - it sounded like Kylie, but Call hoped it was Jasper. Everyone, including Master Rockmaple, was staring as the red ball burned merrily away like it had been full of fireworks. The stench of burning chemical nastiness filled the air, and Call jumped back as a big lump of melting plastic meteored to the floor. He scrambled away as more of the goop began to drip from the burning ball, a little of it splattering the shoulder of his T-shirt.
Ink and goop. This was a great fashion day for him.
"Get out," Master Rockmaple said as the kids started to choke and cough on smoke. "Everyone, get out of the room."
"But my turn!" Jasper protested. "How am I going to get my second turn now that the freak has totally destroyed the ball? Master Rockmaple -"
"I SAID GET OUT," the mage roared, and the kids surged from the room, Call bringing up the rear, intensely conscious of the fact that both Jasper and Master Rockmaple were glaring at him with what looked a lot like hatred.
Like the smell of burning, the word freak carried through the air.
MASTER ROCKMAPLE marched angrily, leading the whole group down a hallway, away from the testing room. Everyone was moving so fast there was no way for Callum to keep up. His leg hurt more than ever and he smelled like a burning tire factory. He limped along behind them, wondering if anyone had ever messed up this badly in the history of the Magisterium. Maybe they'd let him go home early, for his sake and for the sake of everyone else.
"You okay?" Aaron asked him, dropping back so he could walk alongside Callum. He smiled good-naturedly, like there was nothing strange about talking to Call when the rest of the group was avoiding him like the plague.
"Fine," Call said, gritting his teeth. "Never better."
"I have no idea how you did what you did, but that was epic. The look on Master Rockmaple's face was like -" Aaron tried to approximate it, furrowing his eyebrows, widening his eyes, and making his mouth gape.
Call started to laugh but stifled it quickly. He didn't want to like any of the other kids, especially not super-competent Aaron.
They turned the corner. The rest of the class was waiting. Master Rockmaple cleared his throat, apparently about to scold Call, when he seemed to notice Aaron standing beside him. Biting off whatever he had been about to say, the mage opened the door to a new room.
Call scrambled into the room along with the rest of the group. It was a boring industrial space like the one they'd been in for the first test, with rows of desks and a single sheet of paper resting atop each one.
How many written tests are there going to be? Callum wanted to ask, but he didn't think that Master Rockmaple was in the mood to answer him. None of these desks had names, so he sat at one and folded his arms over his chest.
"Master Rockmaple!" called out Kylie, sitting down. "Master Rockmaple, I don't have a pen."
"Nor will you need one," said the mage. "This is a test of your ability to control your magic. You will be using the element of air. Concentrate on the paper in front of you until you are able to lift it off the desk, using only the energy of your thoughts. Lift it straight up, without allowing it to wobble or fall. Once that is accomplished, please rise and join me at the front of the room."
Relief washed through Call. All he had to do was make sure the paper didn't fly up into the air, which seemed simple enough. His whole life, he had managed not to make pieces of paper fly around classrooms.
Aaron was sitting across the aisle from him. He had his hand on his chin, his green eyes narrowed. As Call darted a sideways glance toward him, the paper on Aaron's desk rose into the air, perfectly level. It hovered for a moment before fluttering back to the desk. With a grin, Aaron got up to join Master Rockmaple at the front of the room.
Call heard a chuckle to his left. He glanced over and saw Jasper take out what looked like a regular sewing pin and prick his finger. A drop of blood appeared, and Jasper shoved his finger into his mouth, sucking on it. What a weirdo, Call thought. But then Jasper slumped back in his chair, in a casual, I-can-do-magic-with-my-hands-tied kind of way. And it seemed like he could, since the paper on his desk was folding and crumpling - rolling itself into a new shape. With a few more folds and tucks, it became a paper airplane, which zoomed off Jasper's desk and flew across the room, hitting Call directly in the forehead. He swatted it away and it dropped to the ground.
"Jasper, that's enough," Master Rockmaple said, though he didn't sound as annoyed as he could have. "Get up here."
Call returned his attention to his paper as Jasper sauntered up to the front of the room. All around him, kids were staring and whispering at the papers on their desks, willing them to move. Call's stomach tightened uneasily. What if a gust of air came along and picked up his paper? What if it just … fluttered on its own? Would he get points for that?
Stay put, he thought savagely at the paper on his desk. Don't you move. He pictured himself holding it down against the wood, fingers splayed, preventing it from twitching. Man, this is stupid, he thought. What a thing to do with your day. But he stayed where he was, concentrating. This time, he wasn't alone. Several other kids were unable to move their papers, including Kylie.
"Callum?" said Master Rockmaple, sounding weary.
Call sat back. "I can't do it."
"If he can't, he really can't," said Jasper. "Just give the loser a zero and let's go before he creates a blizzard and we all die from paper cuts."
"All right," said the mage. "Everyone, bring me your papers and I'll give you your marks. Come on, let's get this room cleaned up for the next group."
Relieved, Call reached for the paper on his desk - and froze. Desperately, he scrabbled at the edges of it with his fingernails, but somehow, he didn't know how, the paper had sunk into the wood of the desk and he couldn't get a grip on it. "Master Rockmaple - there's something wrong with my paper," he said.
"Everyone under the desks!" said Jasper, but no one was paying attention to him. They were all looking at Call. Master Rockmaple stalked over to him and stared down at the paper. It had well and truly become fused to the desk.
"Who did this?" demanded Master Rockmaple. He sounded flabbergasted. "Is this someone's idea of a prank?"
Everyone in the class was silent.
"Did you do this?" Master Rockmaple asked Call.
I was just trying to keep it from moving, Call thought miserably, but he couldn't say that. "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I don't know. Maybe the paper is defective."
"It's just paper!" the mage shouted, and then seemed to get control of himself. "All right. Fine. You get a zero. No, wait, you are going to be the first aspirant in Magisterium history to get a negative score on one of the Iron Trial tests. You get a minus ten." He shook his head. "I think we can all be grateful that the final test is one you do alone."
By that point, Callum was most grateful that it would all soon be over.
This time, the aspirants stood in the hallway outside a double door and waited to be called inside. Jasper was speaking to Aaron, looking over at Call like he was the subject they were discussing.
Call sighed. This was the last test. Some of the tension drained out of him at the thought. No matter how well he did, one last test wasn't going to make that much of a difference to his terrible score. In less than an hour, he'd be heading home with his dad.
"Callum Hunt," called a mage who hadn't introduced herself before. She had an elaborate snake-shaped necklace wound around her throat and was reading off a clipboard. "Master Rufus is waiting for you inside."
He pushed off the wall and followed her through the double doors. The room was large and empty and dim, with a wooden floor where a single mage sat next to a large wooden bowl. The bowl was filled with water and there was a flame burning at its center, without wick or candle.
Call stopped and stared, feeling a little prickle against the back of his neck. He'd seen plenty of weird things that day, but this was the first time since the illusion of the cave that he'd really felt the presence of magic.
The mage spoke. "Did you know that to obtain good posture, people used to practice walking around with books balanced on their heads?" His voice was low and rumbling, the sound of a distant fire. Master Rufus was a large, dark-skinned man with a bald head as smooth as a macadamia nut. He stood up in one easy motion, lifting the bowl in his wide, callused fingers.