THE DOORS TO WAYWARD SCHOOL SWUNG OPEN before the final knock.

A shrivelled old prune of a lady stood in the doorway, dwarfed by its great size, with a pinched face and pursed lips, like she had just eaten something very sour.

“Miss Bane,” she crooned in a raspy voice. “You’ve decided to join us at last.”

Warrior didn’t wait to be invited inside. She simply ducked under the woman’s arm, before saying, “Miss Grubbly, pleasure to see you as always.”

The lady scowled. “It’s Miss Grimbly,” she sneered, “and you know it, you wretched child. Or rather, it should be ma’am to you.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m too young to be a ma’am,” Warrior quipped back.

Miss Grimbly scowled even harder and shook her fist. Her wrinkled face bore a striking resemblance to a cat’s puckered bum hole.

“I’ll let Headmaster Higgles know you’re back, shall I, you ungrateful madam?” she snapped. “Goodness knows where you’ve been this summer. We were doubting whether you’d return for your second year at all.”

“And miss our delightful chats like this? Never.”

Dodging the daggers Miss Grimbly glared her way, Warrior flounced off down the hall, occasionally spinning merrily on her heel as if to agitate the old woman further.

They both seemed to have forgotten that Cas existed.

“Just wait until I fetch the headmaster,” Miss Grimbly threatened.

“No need,” said Warrior, her voice as sweet as syrup. “I spent the summer away on Dr Bane’s orders. He needed my help with something.”

“Well, I’ll inform Bane of your arrival then.”

“Again, don’t hurry to toot the trumpets – I’m on my way there now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to deprive Headmaster Higgles of his wonderful secretary’s company.”

Miss Grimbly made a noise that was somewhere between a huff and a growl. Then she turned back to Cas still lingering like a lemon in the entrance, and said, “Are you coming in or not, boy? You’re letting all the blasted heat out.”

Cas wasn’t sure there really was any heat in the vast, airy building, but he didn’t want to infuriate the secretary any more. The old woman looked on the verge of either exploding or scratching someone’s eyes out, so he nodded silently and popped inside.

The elegant entrance hall was made of the same cream stone and sweeping marble as the outside of the building, with ivy climbing the inside walls too. Platinum-trimmed flags bearing the five sigils hung from the ceiling, whilst a colourful mosaic of the Balance Lands and the Normie world smooshed together like conjoined twins decorated the floor. Arched doorways lined the hallway, leading to countless classrooms and study halls, and a grand staircase with another adjoining ramp stood proudly at the far end.

Unsure of what else to do, Cas awkwardly half shuffled, half ran after Warrior, who was ascending the stairs.

“Be careful spending time with that girl,” Miss Grimbly moaned after him. “She has a nasty tongue and no manners to boot. No wonder her own mother dumped her on Wayward School’s doorstep before she could talk.”

Cas was pretty sure Miss Grimbly also said something that began with in my day and ended with strung up by your earlobes, but he didn’t hang around to find out what.

“Grumbly’s a wrinkled old sourpuss,” said Warrior, clearly not having heard Miss Grimbly’s remark. Dusk was beginning to fall, heavy and purple outside the first floor’s windows. Glowing lanterns lined the walls, casting long, skeletal shadows across their path. “She hates everyone, even Headmaster Higgles who she works for. In fact, I think she only took the job because he doesn’t mind Gripely keeping her children in the office.”

“Her children?”

“Polly and Pieter. Two parakeets about as cranky and ancient as she is. She lets them nibble on her sandwiches and everything.”

Cas grimaced. “Is that who you’re taking me to?” He was desperate to finally get some answers. His head was spinning from all the new sights, sounds and information.

“Who? The parakeets?”

“No, Headmaster Huggles.”

“Higgles,” Warrior corrected him, before shaking her head. “Hopeless Higgles probably doesn’t even know that I left at the beginning of the summer, and it’ll likely be next week before he clocks that you’re here. No, Dr Bane is the one who sent me to the Normie world – to find you – so he can explain everything best. Right here.”

They reached a single stone archway set at the end of the first-floor corridor. Unlike many of the doorways, this one didn’t look like it belonged to a classroom. The dim lantern light broke through the gloom to illuminate a solid wooden door laden with latches, bolts and a double bird knocker. Warrior banged her fist below a silver plaque engraved with the words: Dr C. M. Bane, Wayward Professor, Doctorate in Deathmaking (First Attempt, Astounding Standard).

Around them, the school was deathly silent. Cas wondered whether the school year had started yet. Or was that what all the hubbub in town was about?

Regardless, the ominous emptiness made his skin prickle.

Abruptly, the door in front of them groaned open—

“Dr Bane! Dr Bane, I’ve found him!”

The words burst out of Warrior so loudly and violently that Cas jumped out of his skin.

A tall, greying man stood silhouetted in the entrance. Dr Bane instantly reminded Cas of a quick, silver fox. He had a shaggy mane of shoulder-length, silver-speckled hair and a wiry, grey beard, both of which were shot through with streaks of auburn. His amber eyes were crinkled and kind, but also smart and sharp, and he wore a neat plum suit under a matching cloak – not too dissimilar to the ones the hooded men had worn, except his was plain purple with only a hint of silver thread. His twilight-coloured garb contrasted starkly with the many pewter rings bejewelling his fingers, which twinkled and drew attention to the tattoos on his hands. The ink scrawls were variations of the same five symbols strewn around the school.

“Warrior, my dear,” said Dr Bane, holding up a hand as if to soothe her. “Take a deep breath. Let’s start over and say that again … calmly this time.”

Warrior didn’t bother to heed him. “Dr Bane, I’ve found him,” she said breathlessly, gesturing to Cas. “It’s him – it’s really him. The One we’ve been looking for.”

Dr Bane cast her a dubious stare. “Warrior,” he warned, drawing her name out in a cautionary tone. He gave Cas the once-over. “I know you’ve been kind enough to assist me all summer – and that you’re desperate to stay at Wayward for the entirety of this year – but if this is another of your waifs and strays, a ruse or pretender to persuade me not to send you back to the Normie world…”

“No, sir,” insisted Warrior. “It’s him. Honestly, I swear. The Heretics were hunting him and everything.”

“Well, have you seen them? His powers?”

She nodded, nudging Cas in the ribs. “He brought a dead raven back to life—”

“Actually, it was more of a big crow,” Cas chipped in unhelpfully.

“And his Deathmaker ones?”

Deathmaker ones?

“Um, no … not yet… But, sir—”

Dr Bane let out a long, weary sigh. “Then you must be mistaken. He can’t be the Foretold,” he said. “I’m sorry she’s wasted your time,” Dr Bane apologised to Cas, before rounding on Warrior. “I don’t know what you think you saw, or how you’ve convinced this poor boy to pretend, but I thought you understood how important our mission is, Warrior. Send your friend on his way and get some rest before school starts tomorrow. We’ll discuss when I’ll next be sending you back to the Normie world in the morning.”

At those last words, Warrior’s hair turned as chalk white as her cheeks. She took a frantic step forward to plead with Dr Bane, but he promptly and firmly shut the door.

Cas felt more lost and confused than ever.

Turning away, Warrior’s shoulders sagged as she began to trudge off in defeat.

But Cas was done.

Done with people speaking at or around him, not to him. Done with having no idea about what had happened in the curiosity shop. Or where he was. Or why he was here.

“Enough,” he said, reaching out and catching Warrior’s elbow. His voice sounded much braver and tougher than he felt. “Just because Dr Bane won’t tell me what’s going on, it doesn’t mean that you can’t.”

There was a moment’s hesitation – but then his words seemed to spark something inside her. Gone was the silly schoolgirl who had been banished to her bedroom, and back was the bold, courageous one who had jumped into the River Thames and faced off against two hunters to save him.

“You’re right,” said Warrior, throwing her shoulders back and tilting her chin up. Her cheeks grew brighter again, before she added in a low whisper, “But not here, Cas.”

Maybe if his stomach hadn’t been doing acrobatic somersaults at the thought of finding out the truth, Cas might have found it strange how Warrior knew his name, when he was certain he had never told her.

Nevertheless, he didn’t protest when she grabbed his hand and led him back along the corridor. Their shadows trembled apprehensively as they scurried past the glowing lanterns, which, Cas now realized, were filled with real fire-producing fireflies. Without stopping, they sped up to the second floor, passing a vast array of unusual classrooms, many of which had odd symbols and sketches drawn on the blackboards and even one which had a small, solitary rain-cloud suspended in mid-air, drizzling away in the corner of the room. Warrior tugged Cas into a secret passageway, hidden behind a rather disturbing statue of someone crushed under a pile of books (the plaque on the room next to it read: THE LIBRARY). It led to a spiral staircase so thin and narrow that Cas had to suck in a breath to fit, and they climbed endlessly upwards, until they emerged in a room on the very top floor of the school.

The words THE ATTIC were roughly hand-carved into the doorway.

The Attic was a squat, stuffy room that closely resembled a forgotten loft. The floorboards creaked ominously under their shoes, while low beams criss-crossed overhead, causing Cas to duck to avoid banging his head or getting a mouthful of cobwebs. The room was sparsely decorated with four single beds and four trunks. The beds sat in pairs on either side of a cold, draughty bay window, and a fat, grey mouse scampered out from under one of the pillows when Cas sat down.

They were utterly out of earshot and alone.

“Sorry it’s a bit small and shabby,” Warrior mumbled.

“No need,” said Cas, glancing around. Compared to waking up on the cold, wet pavement outside the shop, it was brilliant. “So, where do you want to begin?”

Warrior shrugged. “How about with the fact that I think you’re the Chosen One?”

The Chosen One.

“Well, not the Chosen One. The Foretold.”

She said the words so nonchalantly that it took everything inside Cas not to laugh. That was what Dr Bane had called the person who he, Warrior and the Heretics had been looking for.

But that was absurd.

“Nice try,” Cas chuckled half-heartedly. “But really, what’s going on?”

Warrior fixed him with a pointed stare. “How much do you know about the Balance Lands, Cas?”

“In case you couldn’t tell by my incredibly blank face, nothing.”

“And what about our kind, the Others?”

Before today, he hadn’t known there was an our kind.

“Zilch. Not a dicky bird. Outside the curiosity shop is all I’ve ever known.”

Warrior looked at him, bewildered. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” said Cas, imploring her to understand. He mulled over his words for a moment, thinking how best to explain. “My funny leg isn’t the only thing wrong with me. I have a terrible memory, too, probably the worst in the world. All I can remember is waking up this morning on the pavement outside, then getting drenched in the rain until the incident with the bird happened. And I can only assume that’s what every other day has been like too. I wake up and I know who I am, and how the world works, but yesterday is a mystery. It’s like I never existed before today. I don’t have a home. Parents. A family. Or at least, not that I know of. I can’t even remember what I last ate for supper.” He glanced down at his knees, fidgeting. “I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” said Warrior shortly, considering this. “There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re just different. Everyone is. Some of us with more unusual magic are simply more different than others.” She shot him a whisper of a smile, her eyes shining. “Speaking of which, when did you first come into your powers? You know, like the one to bring things to life?”

Cas blinked at her. “I didn’t … I mean, I don’t.”

She cocked an eyebrow, giving him a please-take-this-seriously look. “You do. I know what I saw. How else can you explain what happened in the shop?”

Cas opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for a clever excuse, but instead he found himself saying, “In that case, I didn’t know that I had powers. Not before the raven.”

“Big crow,” said Warrior, grinning.

Cas couldn’t help smiling too. “Yeah, that. Look, for all I know, I could’ve always had this … ability. Or never had it.”

“Interesting.” Warrior began pacing the room. “Very strange.”

Is it? thought Cas. Was bringing something back to life not normal in this world? Was that why the Heretics were chasing him?

Typical, he thought. Even in a world of impossibilities, I still can’t be ordinary.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” said Warrior, flopping down on the bed opposite. A dust plume poofed into the air. “Like I said, right now we’re in the Balance Lands. A mirror of the Normie world in every way except one. Here, people are born with powers. We call ourselves the Others. Each Other belongs to one of five Orders, depending on what powers they possess. Together, it’s our job to maintain the balance of nature – both in this world and the Normie one.

“Every cataclysmic event or natural disaster that’s been averted in the ordinary world can be linked back to us. Those bush fires that rage on for days, then suddenly go out; those tsunamis and earthquakes that destroy everything in their path until they’re miraculously stopped – us, us and us. The Orders each play their role and work together. You have the Earthshapers, the Airscapers, the Wavebreakers and the Firetamers. Those four Orders are easy enough to understand, but there’s also a fifth Order – the Lifemakers and Deathmakers. The rarest, most powerful and most dangerous Others.”

“And that’s where I belong?”

“Steady, grasshopper,” warned Warrior. “Sort of. You see, when an Other belonging to the fifth Order is born, they’re either born a Lifemaker or a Deathmaker. Never both.

“Or at least, that’s how it was until he came along.”

Cas felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Who?”

“The Master of All. The most terrible and terrifying Other alive today.”

Cas swallowed hard. Fear prickled through him from the tips of his fingers to the points of his toes.

“No one calls the Master by his real name any more. He’s not really an Other, not like the rest of us now. The Master of All is an Other who was born a Deathmaker, but somehow managed to steal another’s Lifemaker abilities for himself. Honestly, it’s not surprising. Deathmakers are the Others who are most likely to turn bad. But what’s scary is that the Master of All is the first person to do it. To be a Lifemaker and a Deathmaker. To have power over both life and death.”

“And that’s such a bad thing because…” Cas trailed off unknowingly.

Warrior threw her hands up, exasperated. “Didn’t you hear me?” she said, tension rising in her tone. “The whole reason the Others and the Balance Lands exist is to protect the balance of nature. Life and death are two sides of the same coin, but they’re different. Sure, Lifemakers and Deathmakers are in the same Order because in many ways their powers overlap. They both control how the body works, how things come together or apart. But being both defies the very idea of balance. Their ultimate goals aren’t the same. Lifemakers heal, whilst Deathmakers hurt. Lifemakers care, whilst Deathmakers kill. The Master doesn’t just want to stop there, either – he’s been tyrannising and wreaking havoc in our world, determined to find a way to take the other four Orders’ powers for himself too.

“Ever since the Master of All stole those Lifemaker abilities, the balance of nature has been disrupted. The threads that make up the existence of everything in the Balance Lands and the Normie world are already beginning to unravel. If he succeeds, who knows what could happen – it could bring about the end of both worlds.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me,” Cas prodded insistently. The end of the worlds sounded dire and all, but Cas was still equally – if not more – perplexed than before.

Surprisingly, Warrior’s rigid, tense expression turned ecstatic.

“Around the same time the Master turned bad,” she explained, finally getting to the crux of the matter, “the Oracle – an all-knowing Other in our world – made a prophecy that he could only be stopped by the Foretold. A Chosen One born sometime in the next twelve years with power equal to, or greater than, his.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. “And you think that’s me?”

Warrior snapped her fingers. “Bingo.”

Unfortunately, Cas wasn’t convinced.

“I can’t be,” he blurted out. “It doesn’t make sense. The prophecy said that the Foretold, the person born to defeat the Master, would have power at least equal to his, right? Well, I don’t. I still can’t believe that what I made happen in the shop was real, but even if it was, surely I can only be a Lifemaker? I’m not a Deathmaker. I would never hurt anyone!”

“You don’t understand,” said Warrior, leaning forward, her face alight with excitement. “Bane might not believe me about the raven, but I know what I saw. Just being able to do that is proof enough. Normally, an equal number of Others is born into each Order. But when the Master stole those Lifemaker powers, a tear was created in the balance of nature. There haven’t been any new Lifemakers or Deathmakers born in the seventeen years since. And nearly all of the current fifth Order have lost their powers, too.”

“Do you mean—”

“You’re the first new one we’ve found.”

Cas took a minute to let the revelation sink in.

It felt like someone had just sent an electric shock through him. His heart raced. His breathing quickened. His palms turned slick and sweaty.

But he couldn’t understand how she could be sure.

He was Cas. Just Cas.

The mystery boy who lived outside the curiosity shop. The boy with a funny leg and the worst memory. The boy who had made something extraordinary happen and had no explanation for it but this.

Except he couldn’t be the Foretold.

He could barely tie his own shoelaces, let alone take on and defeat the great, dangerous and ambitious Master of All.

A second realization settled on him then.

“That’s why you rescued me from those hunters, wasn’t it? Because you thought I was the Foretold. You’d never spoken to me before.”

Warrior gave him a coy sideways glance. “Well, I did think it was odd that you were on your own like that. You always seemed to show up when I was there. It was a bit weird. Besides, I’m not exactly in the habit of sticking my neck out for anyone.” She tapped her throat. “In all fairness, it is a pretty good neck to lose.”

Cas frowned. This time, it was his turn to shoot her a please-take-this-seriously look.

“All right, all right,” said Warrior. “Look, I may have only rescued you because I think you’re the Foretold – but it wasn’t like I hadn’t been keeping an eye on you before that. That’s why Dr Bane sent me to the Normie world – to look for the Foretold. For some reason, Crane’s Curiosities seems to attract stuff like that.”

“The objects inside the shop are magical, aren’t they?” said Cas. “I mean, they come from this world.”

“Like calls to like.”

“But why spend so much time in the Normie world if you live here?”

“Because,” Warrior admitted, half reluctantly, half excitedly, “people in the Balance Lands have been searching for the Foretold for the last twelve years.”

“Including those hunters – the Heretics?”

“Yes, the Heretics are the Master of All’s followers. After the Oracle made the prediction, our leaders – the Grand Council – ordered every corner of the Balance Lands to be scoured for the Foretold. Of course, the Master of All got wind of this and set his minions to the same task. But Dr Bane thought the Grand Council might be missing something. Others born and living in the Normie world are exceptionally rare, but it happens. As the deadline for the prophecy drew near, and he heard that the Heretics seemed to have the same idea, he started sending me to the Normie world every now and then on a secret mission to look for you. I – I had to find you,” she said, her voice cracking and growing dimmer with each word. “For the sake of the Balance Lands. For Bane, because I – I owe him. He took me in when my parents abandoned me. When nobody else would.”

One by one, the puzzle pieces slotted together in Cas’s head. Miss Grimbly’s snide remark about Warrior’s mother. Dr Bane’s comment about the waifs and strays Warrior had reportedly brought to Wayward School. Her passionate, resolute, stubborn determination that Cas was the one she had been seeking.

“But now that I’ve found you,” said Warrior, raising her eyes hopefully, “I can finally come home.”

Cas didn’t share her enthusiasm. Quite the opposite – he felt like the room was spinning.

“What if I’m not who you think I am? How do we know for certain?”

Warrior jumped to her feet and rummaged around in the trunk at the end of her bed. “We don’t,” she said begrudgingly. “At least, not yet. There’s only one way to know for sure. That’s why” – she pulled a tatty old blanket and oversized pyjamas out of the trunk, before tossing them at Cas – “we’re going to gatecrash the Oracle’s Order Trials tomorrow.”

Cas winced. “Why do I have no idea what that is, but still hate the sound of it?”

Warrior placed her hands on her hips. “How dare you. My plans are always genius, I’ll have you know.”

Cas regarded her doubtfully.

“Whenever a powerful Other is born, the Oracle senses it, and at eleven years old that person is invited to try out for Wayward School. It’s called Wayward School for Most Prestigious Others for a reason, though. Everyone would sell their granny to get in, however only the most talented students do. Not everybody who arrives here has fully come into their powers yet, so that’s where the Order Trials come in. At the start of each new school year, the Oracle tests the first years, the Wayones. First, she uses her uncanny abilities to sense the strength of your power, then she tells you your Order.”

“And we’re going to make her test me?”

“Ding ding.” Warrior shot Cas a gleaming, toothy smile. “Once we’ve snuck in, the Oracle will confirm that you have both life and death magic. Technically, you’re not allowed into the Order Trials unless you’re being tested or a teacher… I’m a second year, a Waytwo, so that might be a little tricky … but we’ll find a way. Then, Dr Bane will have no choice but to admit you’re the Foretold and let you come to school.”

“What if the Oracle doesn’t confirm it?” challenged Cas. “What if she says I only have life magic? Or no powers at all?”

Warrior matched Cas’s stare with her own. Faint ghosts of fear and worry flickered there. “Then I hope you like travelling through waygates, because you’ll be sent back to the Normie world. And as I won’t have found the Foretold, I’ll probably be forced to go with you.”

That night, Cas couldn’t sleep.

Not because he was worrying about the Order Trials and if he was a Lifemaker and Deathmaker in one. Nor because he was concerned about whether he was the Foretold, and what that would mean for his future – and the future of the Balance Lands.

No, he couldn’t sleep for two very different reasons.

Firstly, what if Warrior was wrong? What if he wasn’t the Foretold? It would be his fault if she got sent back to the Normie world. He could return to Crane’s Curiosities the same person as before. He would likely forget that any of this had ever happened by the following morning – but he could see that Warrior wanted to stay at Wayward. If she was sent back to look for the Foretold again, when she clearly belonged here…

The other reason Cas couldn’t sleep was his forgetfulness. He didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and not remember that this had all happened.

For a brief moment, Cas allowed himself to imagine that he was the Foretold. The Chosen One, with a purpose and a destiny. The One who, for once in his life, was wanted and special. A small spark of hope ignited inside him – and despite how hard he tried to calm the flame, all he wanted to do was hold on to this feeling. To let it grow.

Eventually though, Cas couldn’t fight it any more. His eyelids grew heavy, his limbs became limp, and slowly he drifted off into a soundless, dreamless sleep.