Elliott and Willa showed up during math.

“Where were you?” Nory mouthed at Elliott.

“Tutoring,” Elliott whispered.

“Again?” Nory waved her hand at her teacher. “Ms. Starr? How come Elliott and Willa get two tutoring sessions before the rest of us even get one?”

The students had been studying upside-down magic skills with Ms. Starr since the start of the school year, but now they were each beginning tutoring for their particular talents, twice a week. Elliott and Willa were paired together because they were both Upside-Down Flares. Sebastian would have a Flicker tutor, since his magic was related to invisibility. Nory and Bax would work together because they were both Fluxers. Andres would have a Flyer tutor, since he couldn’t get down from the ceiling. And Pepper would see a Fuzzy tutor, since she had upside-down animal magic.

Ms. Starr answered Nory: “It takes time to organize with the various tutors. The Flare tutor has a very flexible schedule, so Elliott and Willa were able to begin right away.” She clapped her hands. “Kids, get out your poetry books. We will begin with the poem about a phoenix on page thirty-eight, and after reading it and discussing, we will do interpretive dance. Except for Nory and Bax.” She winked at Nory. “You two are excused now, for tutoring with Mr. Vitomin.”

Nory jumped out of her seat. Zamboozle! She was excused from interpretive dance and she had a tutor!

“Have you found anyone for me yet?” Marigold asked.

“Not yet,” Ms. Starr answered. “Your shrinking magic is wonderfully different, which makes it tricky to find a tutor who’s a good fit. But rest assured, we will.”

“Yesterday I shrank my toothbrush while I was brushing my teeth,” Marigold said. “I almost swallowed it. I’m worried I’ll accidentally shrink a person one of these days. Then what would I do?”

“Give him your tiny toothbrush,” Andres replied from the ceiling.

Ms. Starr put her hand on Marigold’s shoulder. “You have an extraordinary talent, Marigold,” she said. “Don’t lose faith, okay?”

Nory closed the classroom door behind her. She and Bax went down the hall and up the stairs to the second floor. Mr. Vitomin’s office was decorated with sports trophies and pictures of fierce-looking wildcats: lynxes, panthers, and lots of tigers. There was a mini fridge at one end. On the other end, a counter was covered with bags of nuts, dried fruit, and other healthy-looking food. The room smelled like herbal tea.

Mr. Vitomin himself was a short, pale, bald man. He had rosy cheeks and big muscles. The muscles bulged and made the fabric of his T-shirt strain across his chest.

He pointed at Nory and Bax in turn. “Let me get this straight. You’re Elinor and you’re Box?”

“I go by Nory, and he’s Bax,” Nory said.

“I thought it was Box. You a boxer, boy?” Mr. Vitomin bounced around like a prizefighter.

Bax didn’t say anything.

“For the love of carrots, speak up, son!” said Mr. Vitomin. “Oh, hey, are you both eating seaweed snacks and protein? Good nutrition is the basis of good fluxing. All my students eat a carrot, two sardines, and a handful of pumpkin seeds before every lesson. And we all drink pomegranate juice and ginger tea.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Mr. Vitomin, but you can call me Coach.”

He pumped Nory’s hand vigorously, then Bax’s.

“I’m the coach of the upper-grade kittenball team, the Dunwiddle Catnips. I think this year we’ve got the finest group of swatters in the county.” He grinned. “We’re starting a kittenball club this year, too, for beginners to learn the sport. Can’t wait. You watching the game tomorrow night?”

“What game?” asked Nory.

“Tigerball. Professional league. Friday. First game of the season!”

“I’m watching it,” mumbled Bax.

Nory didn’t know much about tigerball. She had played soccer in ordinary school, before she’d moved in with Aunt Margo. But back when she lived with her father and brother and sister, only her older brother, Hawthorn, ever watched sports.

She did know that tigerball was a team sport, and that high-level Fluxers played it with huge balls of yarn—in tiger form. Kittenball was the kid version.

Mr. Vitomin high-fived Bax. Bax winced.

“Best sport in the world, yeah, son?” Mr. Vitomin said. “Who’s your team?”

“San Antonio Stripeys.”

“Nah, the Stripeys never take it. It’s gonna be the Pouncers all the way this year.” Coach rubbed his hands together. “Now, show me what you two can do.”

“As Fluxers?” Nory asked.

“Of course!”

“But, Mr. Vitomin—”

“Coach,” he corrected.

Nory swallowed. “But, Coach Vitomin—”

“Just Coach. Say it with me: Coach.”

“Coach?” Nory said.

“Yes?”

“Didn’t Ms. Starr tell you about us? Our magic’s upside down.”

Coach waved his hand dismissively. “She might have given me your files. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. You’re fifth graders, so we’ll start with kittens. And I’m tooting my own horn here, but I’m a darn good feline Fluxer. Darn good. Do you know how many different house cats I have in my repertoire?”

Nory tried to catch Bax’s eye.

“Go on, guess,” Coach urged.

“Six?” Nory said.

“Nineteen!” Coach banged on the table and grinned. “Persian, Maine Coon, Siamese, Munchkin, domestic shorthair in twelve colors, Bengal, Burmese, and American Curl.”

“Wow,” Nory said. But she was thinking, We can’t start with kittens. Bax doesn’t do kittens. Bax does rocks. Or rather, just one rock, same rock, every time. Does Coach not understand?

Coach drew himself up. “Want to see my house cats? All righty, then!”

The air shimmered. Coach Vitomin’s muscles bunched and twitched, and … zwoop! He went through all nineteen breeds of cat, finishing with the black cat that most people learned as a beginner animal.

Then he shifted back to his natural form.

Nory clapped.

Bax did not.

“Now you, Nory,” Coach announced. “Let’s see your kitten.”

Nory could do a kitten. A black, beginner kitten, like most fifth-grade Fluxers could. Yes, her magic was upside down, and yes, she often made mixed-up animals like the koat. She could usually hold her kitten shape, though. Usually. She could also keep hold of her human mind while she did it. It had taken a lot of practice, but earlier in the school year, she’d learned.

But it didn’t take much for Nory to mess up. She’d add in a goat and become a koat. Or she’d add in a beaver and become a bitten. Or a dragon, and become a dritten.

Now she did what Coach asked. She concentrated. Her heart beat faster. Pop! Pop! Pop! Her body stretched and shrank.

Hurrah! She was Kitten-Nory. So far, so good. She swished her tail. She hopped up on the table and licked her paw.

“Very nice,” Coach said. He walked around her, examining her from every angle. “You have better whiskers than a lot of first-year Fluxers. And you can hear me? You’ve got the human mind?”

Nory nodded.

“Well, what’s gone wonky, then? Why are you in the upside-down magic class?”

Kitten-Nory looked at him reproachfully. Coach shouldn’t say wonky. He should say unusual.

“You don’t want to know,” said Bax, sullen.

“Oh, but I do,” said Coach. “I’m the tutor! Go on, let’s see it, Nory!”

Nory nodded. Then huge, violet dragon wings sprouted from the middle of her spine, and sharp claws curved from her kitten paws. She was a dritten.

She roared, and Coach jumped. She flapped her great wings and flew into the air, circling twice around the small office.

Then she hit the ceiling fan and crashed into the counter. She sent seaweed snacks, bags of nuts, and explosions of protein powder flying across the room.

Oops.

Embarrassed, she popped back into Girl-Nory again. She was sprawled on the floor, covered with almonds.

“Sorry,” she said in a small voice.

“That was fantastic!” cried Coach, helping Nory up. “Ever think about kittenball? With fluxing powers like yours, you’ll have a tiger by early high school, I bet! Good for college applications! And that creature you fluxed into: I wonder if it counts as a kitten, what with the wings and the claws and everything.”

“It’s a dritten,” said Nory. “Dragon-kitten.”

“Outstanding,” Coach murmured. “And it could be fair play on the kittenball field.” He rested his hand on his chin. “You had the kitten body. You had all four paws. I’ll have to look at the rule books.”

Nory glowed. Her own father hadn’t wanted her at his magic academy. But here was Coach, who knew tons about magic, saying he thought her powers were special. Could she really become a tiger by high school? Or maybe even a dragon-tiger—a driger?

Coach was the best tutor ever.

*  *  *

Coach was the worst tutor ever. He didn’t like Bax. Bax could tell.

Well, fine. Bax didn’t like Coach, either. Kittenball? Nineteen house cats? Pomegranate juice and ginger tea?!

He wasn’t going to be able to help Bax.

He didn’t even know Bax’s name.

He was going to be tutoring Nory all the time, when Nory barely needed help. Her wonky magic wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Bax’s was.

Coach loomed over Bax now. Bax backed away.

“Let’s see your kitten, Box! Don’t be shy. Kitten, and whatever you’ve got after that!”

Bax stared at the floor.

“Son, wake up!” Coach said. “Show me your kitten.”

Bax looked at the floor some more.

“You can do a kitten, can’t you?” Coach asked.

Bax shook his head.

“How about a partial kitten? Can you give yourself a tail, say? Some fifth graders start out with just the tail.”

“No.”

Coach sighed. “Fine. Whatever you do, just show me.”

Bax chewed the inside of his cheek. If he turned into a rock, he wouldn’t be able to turn himself back. Then he’d have to take the Burtlebox again. He’d had a dose already this morning, not more than two hours ago.

“I’m here to help, for sardine’s sake,” said Coach. “Don’t you want help with your upside-down magic?”

Bax did, actually. He hated turning into a rock! He disappeared. He had no way of knowing what happened while he was in rock form.

Where did he go, the part of him that made him Bax?

So yes, Bax wanted help. But he didn’t think Coach would even know where to start.

“All students can get better at fluxing, but only if they try,” Coach said. “Are you willing to try, son?”

“I’m not your son,” Bax snapped.

Coach ran his hand over his bald head. He was silent for a full minute. Then he turned to Nory and said to her: “Listen up. Monday is the start of after-school sports, including the beginner kittenball club. In the club, you won’t compete, but you’ll learn the sport, meet new people, and have a lot of fun. Mondays and Wednesdays. What do you say?”

“I say okay.” Nory grinned widely.

Bax just stood there.

He didn’t flux into a rock. Yet even so, he’d managed to disappear.