CHEATS!” ACCUSED THE DU VILLAINE TWINS, storming over to where Cas, Warrior, Paws and Fenix were celebrating with their supporters.

They stood huddled in a gaggle of beaming grins and giggles. Artemis Grover and Diana Rosales had raced down from the stands at the sound of the final whistle and smothered Paws in kisses, whilst Warrior was being spun around in circles by Mrs Crane, and Cas was doing a high-kicking jive with Mogget. Even the usually reserved Fenix stood on the edge of the crowd, smiling shyly and whooping.

“It’s not fair!” said Sam Du Villaine angrily.

“It is too!” retorted Warrior once Mrs Crane had stopped spinning her about. “If anyone cheated, you did. Aubria tripped me at the finish line!”

“There’s nothing in the rules that says I couldn’t,” Aubria spat.

“Well, there’s nothing in the rules that says I can’t now,” growled Warrior, lunging forward.

Cas reached out and pulled her back.

“You freaks should’ve never been allowed to enter,” snarled Lucille poisonously, glowering at the Abnormies from behind her brother. “Why do we deserve to be placed next to the likes of you?”

Something snapped inside Cas. “Get lost, both of you.”

“Language, Casander!” reprimanded Mrs Crane, pretending to clout him on the ear.

“Sorry, Mrs Crane. Get lost, both of you, please.”

Mrs Crane smiled. “Much better.”

“Enough!” said a low, throaty voice as Headmaster Higgles blundered into view. He was hotly tailed by Mr and Mrs Du Villaine, looking furious, as well as Dr Bane, numerous spectators and the squat, spotty-faced reporter from The Threadly Times. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s them, sir,” said Lucille vehemently, jabbing her finger towards the Abnormies. “They cheated. They shouldn’t have been allowed to compete. It’s a disgrace to the school!”

Warrior balled up her fists again, but suddenly Fenix’s voice broke through the clamour.

“There’s, um, nothing in the Mini Questial rules that says an Earthshaper, an Airscaper, a Wavebreaker and a Firetamer have to compete,” he said, wringing his hands. “I’ve read the handbook cover to cover. Technically we haven’t done anything wrong.”

Everyone considered Fenix uncertainly for a moment, but Cas grinned warmly at his friend.

Of all the people to stand up for the Abnormies in the middle of the chaos, it was Fenix. Quiet, placid Fenix. Peacekeeping Fenix.

The King of Handbooks and Rules.

“See,” said Cas, gesturing to the Firetamer boy. “We came second place, sir, fair and square.”

“Not fine,” growled Mr Du Villaine, his fingers digging so hard into his son’s shoulder that Sam Du Villaine looked on the brink of tears. “Being what you are … Abnormies … you had an unfair advantage out there, an edge nobody else could match. Such a close result is embarrassing for our children. We demand a rematch.”

“Fine.” Warrior sniffed. “As long as you don’t mind that we might beat you next time.”

The Du Villaines froze. They clearly hadn’t considered this.

Cas shot a glance towards Fenix. When Eupholous Du Villaine had used the word Abnormies, Fenix had shrunk back. He was hanging his head in shame, like he thought they didn’t deserve their second place now too. Like he also thought he had cheated by gaining the Abnormies their massive lead in the first leg.

Cas glared at Mr and Mrs Du Villaine, his blood boiling.

He had never hated anyone more.

Mr and Mrs Du Villaine stared back at Cas and his friends with a predatory gaze. They reminded Cas of their sabre-toothed wyverkeys. Except, no, Cas thought, that isn’t right. They aren’t like the wyverkeys; they are the sabre teeth. All paleness, sharpness and harsh, cutting angles, from their silver hair and alabaster skin to their pointy elbows and cheekbones hewn to slice ice.

Eupholus Du Villaine was a rapidly balding man with a long, kinked handlebar moustache, whilst Yvaine Du Villaine had slick, greasy hair the colour of moonlight cascading down to her hips.

“Let it go, Eupholous,” said Dr Bane defensively, stepping forward to place a fatherly hand on Warrior’s shoulder. Cas recognized that the gesture wasn’t simply an act of protection. Bane was holding Warrior back.

“We didn’t cheat,” she said again, huffily.

“We didn’t, sir,” concurred Cas, changing tack and looking at Headmaster Higgles imploringly. “Fenix is right. We read the rules and earned our placing. I’m the Foretold, why would I lie?”

The Du Villaines couldn’t make Headmaster Higgles take their victory away. They just couldn’t.

“Yeah,” another voice joined the fray. Dewey Cricket’s strawberry-blond head bobbed into view as he stepped out from the spectators that had gathered from the school. “Cas is right. I’ve read the rules too.”

“And me,” said Bracken Moonstrike.

“And me,” agreed Neerja Gill.

“Me too,” chipped in Laula Spinks.

Too many other “and me”s echoed out for Cas to count. Their fellow students were supporting the Abnormies’ claim to second place. Clearly they wanted to see the Du Villaines knocked down a peg as much as Cas did.

Headmaster Higgles let out a bellowing belly laugh, as if this had all been one big jest. “Of course I believe you, my man.” He slapped Cas hard on the shoulder. “I just had to indulge the Du Villaines’ complaint for formality’s sake. Well done on second place!”

The crowd around them cheered. Headmaster Higgles smacked his hands together and declared, “Now who wants to wander back up to the school for a spot of tea and some boulder cakes? I hear Professor Everglade has prepared some specially.”

As one, the gathering of teachers, students and parents departed, until only Cas, the Abnormies and the Du Villaines remained.

“Despicable.” Mr and Mrs Du Villaine shot a filthy look at their children, before tilting their chins haughtily and flouncing off, The Threadly Times reporter scrambling in their wake.

For a moment, Cas nearly felt sorry for the twins.

Then Sam opened his mouth.

“You’re … Abnormies,” Sam sneered. “It’s embarrassing. We didn’t deserve to win next to the likes of you. The Mini Questial isn’t for your kind; it’s for us – proper Others.”

“What was the point of this?” said Lucille. “They aren’t going to let people like you compete when the next real Questial comes around.”

“A once-in-a-decade event,” mused Cas, tapping his chin. “Sounds exactly like something I’d love to be a part of. Maybe we’ll even end up on a team with you.”

It went without saying that the thought of doing anything with the Du Villaines made Cas want to be sick. But he knew his comment would rile them.

“Today we proved we’re just as worthy as you,” he concluded, before they could get another malicious word in edgeways.

Sam scoffed. “You didn’t prove anything. The Snouts and that ridiculous Crestbourne girl were slowing me down.”

“Why weren’t you competing?” said Warrior, turning her attention to Lucille.

Lucille blanched. Cas still hadn’t told anyone that he had caught her staring at the Airscaper training aids at Christmas, but as her eyes flashed to his, he knew they were both thinking about it.

“Th-there was only one Airscaper spot, Abnormies,” stammered Lucille.

“I’m sure you could’ve been creative,” said Warrior. “We were. Or are you Airscapers by name, air-headed by nature?”

This seemed to strike a nerve.

“I want a rematch,” said Sam, moving so he and Cas were facing off against each other. “Tonight. Meet me in the Airscaper training room in the Sky Tower. Nine o’clock. Riff-Raff can be your partner, unless you’d rather replace her with Furball or Phoenix Boy over there.”

“My partner?” said Cas, trying not to sound too puzzled.

“I challenge you to a Scuffle. A double Other duel.”

Paws and Fenix gasped. Even Warrior sucked in a sharp breath.

“You can’t,” whispered Paws, tugging on Cas’s sleeve. “Scuffles are forbidden, even outside of Wayward.”

Cas shook her off. “You’re on.”

He refused to back down to Sam, who smirked. “Let’s settle who the real winners are, once and for all.”

Waiting for the clock tower bells to chime nine that evening felt like an eternity.

Cas wasted away the hours pacing the length of the Attic, trying to stay firm about not wimping out. He didn’t know what a Scuffle was exactly, but it must be some kind of fight as Sam had called it a “duel”.

Paws and Fenix weren’t helping matters.

“Don’t do this,” urged Paws. “What’s the point? We’ve already proved ourselves to everyone today, including the Du Villaines. They’re probably just trying to get you in trouble.”

“There are wardsmen patrolling the corridors now,” said Fenix. “Even if they don’t catch you in the middle of a, erm, dangerous Scuffle and throw you in Nowhere Prison, you might still get caught out of bed after hours.”

“Getting expelled will only make it easier for the Master of All to find you.”

“No Wayward, no wards. No protection.”

“What good will that do the rest of us, then?”

But when the bells tolled, Cas stopped repeatedly fastening and unfastening his new cloak and looked at Warrior. “Ready to go?”

She nodded. “Beating the Du Villaines will feel like Waywardmas has come early this year.”

The second-floor corridor was eerily deserted when they emerged from the spiral staircase. An eight o’clock curfew for students to be in their dorms was in place, so stalking along the hall in the shadows felt like entering a sinister spectral plane. There wasn’t another soul to be seen. They crept past a snoozing Mrs Crane and stuck close to the walls. The stone floor was ice cold beneath Cas and Warrior’s bare feet. They had taken their shoes off so their footfalls wouldn’t be heard, but every now and then the looming shadow of a tree branch or the howling wind rattling the windowpanes made them hold their breath, waiting to be caught.

Cas hoped that if they were, he wouldn’t be expelled. He was the Foretold. That had to count for something.

But he also knew that relying on being the Chosen One to offer him any kind of protection was extremely arrogant.

They crouched in a sliver of impenetrable gloom outside the Calligraphy and Cartography classroom and waited until one of the wardsmen had passed, before sneaking down the marble steps to the entrance hall. From there, they headed east until they reached the Sky Tower: a tall turret that disappeared into the cloudy night sky above. The unlocked door groaned open with a gentle shove. After putting their shoes back on, Cas and Warrior headed towards the training room.

Without warning, something moved in the blackness.

“Quinnberley?”

Cas jumped as the Wavebreaker prodigy appeared out of thin air. Dressed in a periwinkle cloak, she held a firefly lantern up to her face and pressed a trembling finger to her lips. “What are you doing here?”

Quinnberley Crestbourne didn’t say anything for a moment, as if she was warring with herself about whether she should. Then at last, she murmured, “I came to warn you.”

Cas sucked in a quick breath. “Warn us? About what?”

“Nothing,” said Warrior scornfully, swatting the girl’s lantern down. “Can’t you see it’s a trick? She’s one of them.”

But Quinnberley shook her head, panic and fear swelling in her glassy, tear-filled eyes.

“No, please, listen,” she pleaded, her voice splintering. “Don’t go in there. It’s a trap.”

“Trap?” said Cas, confused. “It’s not a trap. We agreed to meet Sam and Lucille for one of those things. A Scuffle.”

Quinnberley kept shaking her head. “It’s not just them,” she choked out. “They’ve got Maxwell and Aubria with them … they think The Threadly Times are going to write something awful about them after the Mini Questial, so they want to make you pay … they tried to get me to help too…” She burst into tears, her gulping, snotty sobs echoing around the room. If the Du Villaines hadn’t known Cas and Warrior were already here, they certainly must now. “I – I don’t want to hurt you … it’s not a fair fight … you’re going to lose…”

“Don’t worry,” said Cas soothingly. “We won’t tell them you warned us.”

Warrior caught Cas’s eye. “Yeah, thanks, Quinnberley,” she muttered. “But we’re doing this. You should lay low for a while, stay away from the Du Villaines and the Snouts.”

Quinnberley swallowed hard, sniffling and blowing her dripping nose on the corner of her sleeve.

“Good luck,” she whispered, finally stepping back from the entrance. Then, just like an ocean tide ebbing away, Quinnberley was gone.

Warrior swore. “Those whatsit-munchers,” she said, once they were alone in enemy territory once more. Hobdogglin appeared from nowhere at her side, growling.

She was ready for a fight.

Cas couldn’t even bring himself to sigh. He should’ve expected as much from the Du Villaines.

They nudged open the training room’s door.

“Ah, well, well,” crooned Sam Du Villaine’s voice, “the Abnormie freaks have arrived at last.”

The Airscaper training room was a circular room, with padded mats on the floor, as well as targets and faceless dummies set up for practice.

Lucille took one look at Hobdogglin and cringed. Cas knew that the quirky illusion was a sore spot for her. Many times, Warrior had sent the creature nipping at the twins’ heels between classes, and he supposed that kind of torture was hard to forget.

“You’re late,” said Lucille pettily, pretending Hobdogglin wasn’t there.

“And you’re pathetic,” said Cas, gesturing towards Maxwell and Aubria Snout cracking their knuckles beside the twins. “Scared to face us without your cronies? Four on two isn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“We can still beat you, though,” said Warrior, making sure they knew.

A muscle twitched in Sam’s jaw.

“We only brought them along as back-up,” said Lucille, jumping in to defend her brother. “In case you decided to pull any tricks on us. We know what you Abnormies are like.”

But Warrior had heard enough.

“Look, it doesn’t matter how many minions you have,” she said. “You can have the whole Airscaper Order behind you for all I care. Are we doing this or not?”

Sam and Lucille exchanged a stony look, as if speaking some secret telepathic twin language only they understood.

They stepped forward and readied themselves, waving the Snouts back.

Cas and Warrior did the same.

Sam Du Villaine begrudgingly stuck out his hand.

“Shake it,” said Warrior, elbowing Cas. “It’s proper Scuffling etiquette.”

Cas screwed up his face. “I actually have to touch him?”

Nevertheless, the boys shook hands. Both of them withdrew sharply after three shakes, as if they had touched something slimy in the kitchen sink.

Not taking their eyes off their opponents, the duos strode backwards five steps.

“Are you ready?” whispered Warrior. “On three, we attack. One … two…”

“Are we going on three or after three?” Cas hissed.

Before he got an answer, his body was hit by an enormous rush of wind that sent him flying into the stone wall. He slammed against it and slumped to the floor.

“Three!” shouted Warrior.

She threw her hands forward and Hobdogglin lunged, teeth bared and yapping at the twins. Sam waved his hand almost lazily and blew Hobdogglin aside with another whip of air. The imaginary creature vanished through the back wall in smoky, mist-like wisps.

“Is that all you’ve got, Freak Mould?” taunted Sam.

Cas’s bones ached but he pushed himself to his feet. “You wish,” he said. “Okuli.” He narrowed his eyes and focused on slipping the invisible blindfold over the pale boy.

For a moment, it worked. Sam stumbled back a few paces, grappling at his eyes, whilst Lucille fussed over him, trying to help. But as Cas stepped towards them, ready to capture Lucille under his power too, the fuzzy, tingling feeling started up in his leg and spread to his arm. He couldn’t control his movements. His knee buckled and he threw his hand out against a dummy to brace himself.

His funny leg made Cas’s concentration slip and Sam broke free from his spell.

“Why, you—”

Lucille flung her hands towards Cas, who felt nothing more than a gentle breeze curl around his ankles, feebly trying to bring him down, before Sam pushed her aside and redirected his attention to Warrior instead. The flimsy targets pinned to the training room’s walls fluttered as the air rose and swirled around Sam in a vortex. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the whirlwind barrelling towards Warrior. It snatched her up and she rose several metres off the ground, spinning wildly.

Just then, Hobdogglin reappeared through the far wall and sank his teeth into Sam’s leg.

“Get off!” hollered Sam, shaking his limb.

Hobdogglin didn’t let go. The creature growled and pulled Sam to the floor, pinning him in place. Sam’s focus broke and Warrior dropped to the ground as the miniature hurricane died. Aubria and Maxwell sprang forward to help, but Cas’s funny leg had stopped and he focused his attention on them.

“Muskuli,” he muttered under his breath, directing his power.

The Snout siblings froze like stone statues, their muscles rigid. The only one still standing, Lucille’s gaze flew between Cas and Warrior.

“Give up,” said Cas, regaining his stability and walking over. “We’ve won.”

Sam, though, wasn’t prepared to admit defeat. “Do something, Lucie!” he shouted. “Now!”

But Lucille’s hands were shaking. A weak breeze whipped about their ankles again, then she exploded into tears and ran crying from the room.

He didn’t know what made him do it, but Cas took off after her.

“Casander!”

Cas ignored Warrior’s cries as he charged up the rickety wooden staircase leading to the Airscaper dorms. Despite their new snoozing inhabitants, cobwebs still glistened from the ceiling. Only one dorm room door was slightly ajar, and he headed towards it, expecting Lucille to be inside.

She wasn’t.

The spare dorm was vacant apart from three beds covered in dust sheets and a balcony that overlooked the whole school. At first, Lucille was nowhere to be seen – but when Cas edged towards the balcony, he saw her sitting cross-legged, weeping, in mid-air.

“Lucille!” he yelled.

The girl was perched on nothing, suspended on the other side of the balcony’s railing. She craned her neck around when she heard his voice, her long silver hair fanned out behind her, but then her concentration broke. She had just enough time to let out a small scream before she fell.

Without thinking, Cas leant out and grabbed her.

His sweaty fingers closed around the cuff of Lucille’s blazer, as she dangled from the Sky Tower, a hundred feet above the ground. A look of surprise passed across her face before the terror set back in. Cas used all of his strength to haul her up, but as he did so, she became lighter than air and floated upwards until she was safely on the other side of the railings.

Together, they stumbled into the dorm. Cas’s jaw dangled open, speechless.

“Don’t tell anyone you saw that,” sobbed Lucille, clutching her arms protectively around herself. “I’ll – I’ll … make your life a living hell.”

Her threat was meagre at best.

“You can fly,” breathed Cas, amazed. He knew from his Order Studies lessons that Airscapers weren’t supposed to do that.

“Float,” Lucille corrected him. “But I told you not to say anything.”

Cas held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t,” he promised, “but not because it’s wrong, because you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Embarrassed?” said Lucille, swallowing her tears. “I’m an Airscaper who’s terrible at air magic. I can’t even generate a good wind. Instead, I have this stupid power – this useless, Abnormie gift – that I don’t know what to do with. I don’t even want it!”

Cas wanted desperately to say something. Despite their differences, he knew what it felt like to feel strange, out of the ordinary, an oddball.

But Lucille beat him to it.

“GO!” she shouted, burying her head in her hands and descending into tears again. “Just GO!”

Unsure of what else to do, Cas left the dorm and lumbered down the Sky Tower’s stairs.

Warrior was waiting for him at the bottom, looking hurt and furious. “Where did you go?”

“Um, nowhere,” Cas lied. “I tried to find Lucille to finish her off, but I lost her.”

Warrior’s hair turned from a gentle lobster red to crimson. “I didn’t say you could do that.” Her voice sounded more outraged and wounded than ever.

After what he had just seen, Cas ground his teeth. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

Warrior hesitated, her face flashing ghostly white. She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, as if she was about to spit back something harsh, but then decided against it. This was the first quarrel they’d ever had. Cas wondered if she felt as sick to her stomach about it as he did.

“I… I…” Warrior trailed off.

Moodily, they stalked back to the Attic in silence, dodging any wardsmen they saw along the way. The uneasy quiet that filled their journey made their victory against the Du Villaines feel hollow. Cas was aching to speak to Warrior and breach the void, but she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Was she really that mad at him? Had chasing after Lucille truly been such a terrible thing?

They reached the library and the passageway that led to the Attic, and skidded to a halt.

Mrs Crane was gone. Her empty chair lay on its side, her feather duster discarded.

“Do you think she’s gone to look for us?” asked Warrior, shattering the tension.

Cas shook his head, a suspicious sixth sense kicking in. “Something’s wrong.”

Forgetting their fight, they pressed their eyes against the library’s keyholes, wondering if Mrs Crane was inside.

At once, their blood ran cold.

Mrs Crane was inside all right. Pressed fearfully up against the library’s counter, her knees knocking together, she cowered in front of the purple-and-white figure in front of her. The figure spun around and glanced towards the door, their face obscured by a silver mask.

Only one person wore that look.

It was the Master of All.