Gordy sighed as his Bunsen burner fried a section of gum wrapper. It smoldered and smelled like burnt rubber. He scrubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. He was no closer to unlocking the door now than he was an hour ago, when Zelda’s lesson had begun. Max was playing a game on his phone, and Pedro snored in the corner of the room, with his socks covering his eyes. How Pedro could stand the stench was quite an accomplishment.

With an angry groan, Sasha shoved her cauldron and glowered at Zelda. “You’re wasting our time. My mom will hear about this.”

Zelda’s nose twitched. “Your mother’s watching you right now.” She gestured to the security camera nestled in the corner of the room near the ceiling, identical to the one Gordy had seen in the Brexils’ home. “But it makes no difference. Unless I’m replaced as your instructor, which I don’t think will happen, my rules are all that matters.”

“I’ve never seen my mom brew anything with dirt!” Sasha’s voice echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls. Pedro stirred on the floor, and one sweaty sock dropped from his eye.

“Are we finished? Did we do it?” Pedro mumbled.

“Zip it, Pedro!” Sasha snapped.

Zelda shuffled up behind Gordy and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Your time is almost up,” she said. “If you fail this assignment, I will have to place it in my report, which could delay your training for weeks or months or . . .” She shivered and smiled forlornly at Gordy. “In your case, indefinitely.”

A feeling of helplessness crept over Gordy. “This is impossible.”

“It’s not,” she answered. “You have all the necessary ingredients here”—she pointed to the containers on the table— “and here.” She poked Gordy in the temple with a fingernail. He recoiled and rubbed the side of his head with his palm. “Think about what you need. Think about the motions required. And make these ingredients work for you.”

Gordy puffed out his cheeks. He couldn’t just transform dirt into honeybee wings or lint into coneflower petals. And yet there had to be a way. Zelda had allowed this charade to go on far too long for it to be just some elaborate joke.

“Next time, Rivera can take my place,” Max said, yawning.

And then Gordy had an idea, one he knew he shouldn’t even consider entertaining. What if he Blind Batched his way out of the room? Is that what Zelda was trying to coax out of him? It hadn’t gone so well for Gordy at the Brexils’ house, but maybe this was different. Maybe while in the safe zone of the B.R.E.W. training room, Blind Batching could be an acceptable practice. However, Gordy had only ever created new potions. He didn’t know how the process would work with something that already existed. Would he just be spinning in circles?

“Time’s running out,” Zelda said with a high-pitched trill in her voice.

Max blew a raspberry with his lips. “Thank goodness.”

Sasha sighed exaggeratedly and tossed a test tube into Zelda’s eyewash sink. They were finished, and she had no intention of playing this game anymore.

Gordy closed his eyes, and the sounds in the room dimmed, even Sasha’s frustrated mumbling, but it was difficult not to think about everything that had happened recently. He had to push his mom’s being fired from B.R.E.W. and Adilene’s vanishing potion into some dark corner of his brain.

In order to leave, Gordy needed a way out.

Selecting the container of tap water, Gordy emptied half the contents into his cauldron. He turned the knob of his Bunsen burner up to a seven and sprinkled in some dirt, which he then stirred with his glass wand. The water and dirt turned to a mud, but Gordy kept the heat on high as he removed the wooden pieces from the pencil shavings with a knife and added only the graphite tips to the cauldron. Gordy imagined the doorknob to the room disassembling in his hands, the metal latch crumbling into pieces.

The graphite-mud mixture suddenly began to sparkle.

Gordy held the piece of lint under his nostrils and sensed faint traces of nickel and copper. The lint had once been in contact with coins. Gordy clasped the lint with his tongs and redirected the flame of the Bunsen burner away from his cauldron. With deft hands moving almost of their own accord, he disconnected the fuel line of the burner and doused the fuzzy substance with butane. Gordy heard Zelda cluck her tongue, which could have meant she disapproved of his technique, but he continued regardless.

Gordy then scraped the waxy coating from the gum wrapper with his fingernail and kneaded it together with the oiled piece of lint until it rolled into a tiny ball. Next, he pinched a few pieces of the grass clippings and stuck them into his mouth.

“Dude!” Max exclaimed from somewhere close by, though to Gordy it sounded as if he were several rooms away. “That probably came from a yard with a dog.”

Gordy ignored him.

With the grass gnashed to a pulp, Gordy combined the ingredients in the cauldron. Lastly, he took the knife and pricked his finger, adding a single drop of his blood to the potion.

And then he exhaled.

Gordy wasn’t entirely sure he had breathed at all during the brewing phase, but he felt winded, and his chest ached.

Wordlessly, Gordy scooped out the sparkling mixture onto a sheet of parchment paper and then moved to the door. Careful not to spill a single drop, Gordy applied the entire Blind Batched potion to the doorknob and stepped back.

He sensed the others behind him, waiting for something to happen. Even Sasha was crowding close, her whispers doubtful. But it didn’t matter what they said or thought. Gordy knew what would happen. He could feel it in his heart and see it in his mind as though it had already worked.

The knob produced a deafening pop as the potion dislodged it from the door, and it clattered to the ground. Gordy looked over his shoulder at Zelda, who stood in silence, a baffled look etching her features. He glanced at the others, who had huddled together, looking equally shocked and surprised. Then their mouths all dropped open, but they weren’t applauding. Gordy frowned and turned back to see what was wrong.

The muddy mixture had multiplied and now spread up the door, devouring wood, glass, and metal. Gordy leaped back, heart thudding in his chest as his potion traveled on, crumbling the lintel. The fluorescent lights above him shattered, and Zelda grabbed Gordy’s shoulders, pulling him out of the way as a section of ceiling toppled to the floor.

Through the doorway, Gordy could see a commotion as Elixirists fled from their offices, scrambling, bumping into each other, and reaching for vials of potions.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to—” Gordy tried to explain, but an overhead claxon unleashed a blaring emergency alarm, drowning out his voice. For the second time in one week, B.R.E.W. Headquarters was being evacuated. Only this time, it was entirely Gordy’s fault. How could this have happened? Gordy had only used basic ingredients. Was he that powerful? Or worse—was he that dangerous?

A crack split the floor and gobbled up squares of tile, traveling from the hallway into the training room beneath Gordy’s feet. He leaped to one side, grabbing Max by his collar to keep him from falling. The crack was wide enough that Gordy could see to the floor below, the main level where more Elixirists had gathered near the entryway of B.R.E.W. Headquarters.

“What did you do?” Sasha screamed. “Are you crazy?” Wires and rebar poked out from the floor, and water sprayed from busted pipes. Red lights flashed overhead as the alarm blared relentlessly.

“It was an accident!” Gordy shouted back. No way could he have done this. He had only meant to open the lock.

Through the widening crack in the floor, Gordy watched in horror as the far wall of the main entrance suddenly imploded. The Elixirists downstairs crowded together, clutching their weapons. Where would he be sent for his banishment? Antarctica? He would never survive on his own.

“Run, children!” Zelda commanded. “We are under attack.”

Smoke rose up from the collapsed wall. Gordy could see shadows in the cloud. Forms of figures appeared from the outside as a barrage of glass and colorful potions showered through the opening. At least a dozen Elixirists dropped stiff and still to the floor, while another half dozen struggled in the grasp of vines.

Sasha leaped awkwardly over the crack and tore off down a side hallway, heading in the direction of the elevators, Pedro trailing close behind. Zelda had yet to move, but she nodded at Gordy and Max.

“Keep yourself hidden,” she warned.

As Gordy grabbed Max by his sleeve and turned to leave, he saw something that made his blood run cold. There, stepping through the crater and across the threshold of B.R.E.W., was his grandfather, Mezzarix Rook.