I am an anomaly in the magical world. Magic is genetic, inherited, passed down from parent to child, so it isn't like it can just turn up unexpectedly in a family of non-magical mundanes. And the magician community is tightly knit—it has to be, since there are so few of us. There are adopted and orphaned kids of course, but they go to group homes and foster homes run by other magicians. Every child is accounted for, even the unwanted ones. No one slips through the cracks, not ever.

Except for me.

As far as I understand it, my mother ran away for some reason, left the magical world years ago. It happens from time to time, just often enough that it isn't even clear who she was—Wolfe appears to have been a fake name. What made my case different was that she died when I was still little, before I had learned anything about controlling my magic. She was on her own, completely separated from any other magicians, and I was suddenly alone, left in the care of the mundanes, and my magic turned inward.

And here I am today, the most dangerous person in the magical world.

Ms. Cross took me under her wing, gave me a chance when half of the rest of the Council wanted me stripped of my magic and returned to the mundane world. She believed in me when no one else did, and she continues to fight for me and my rights and my future, because she believes I can be fixed.

I can't look at her, because with every passing day, I become more and more convinced that she's wrong.

But she’s still watching me. “I have some plans thought out—just tentative plans, nothing needs to be decided now—but some plans for what you can do after graduation, Adam.”

My head snaps up. I’ve been avoiding thinking about what my future after graduation might hold. There’s no way in hell that I’ll get into one of the few magical universities in the U.S. I can't do anything, my magic is crap and I'm not much good at mundane subjects either. I’ve been half expecting to wind up as a janitor or something, hoping that maybe Ms. Cross would let me stay on so I can mop St. Bosco's floors until I reach retirement age.

“After graduation?” I repeat, uncertainly. “Like what?”

“You've made good progress since first coming here, that's true. You have much better control, and since the incident with the gazebo you haven't lost control in a major way again.”

I wince at the memory.

“Unfortunately, you still seem to be struggling with wielding your wand. Mr. Donovan tells me that you can manage most simple spells fairly well without a wand, about fifty percent of the time. Unfortunately, the more you use wandless magic, the less contained your magic seems to become, and the more prone you become to casting spells without intentionally meaning to. But when you use your wand, your success rate drops to only ten or fifteen percent, and the strength is often so weak that it leaves you overflowing with an excess amount of magic—which also leads you to casting spells without intentionally meaning to.”

I shift awkwardly in my seat.

“I have been speaking to Mr. Donovan about it, and we agree that wandless magic is perhaps your best opportunity to gain control over your power.”

“But... no one does wandless magic,” I say.

“Not many, not anymore,” says Ms. Cross. “Historically, most magic was done wandlessly, and much of it without spoken incantations. Nowadays wand use pervades most countries and cultures, the same way cars and television and McDonald's restaurants do. But there are still a few people out there who choose to perform magic the old way, the way their ancestors did. Unfortunately, many of these groups are distant; or the only remaining traditional practitioners are very old and don't have the resources to take on your... unique situation. However, Mr. Garcia met an elderly Maya magician in Yucatán who still practices wandless magic while visiting his family earlier this summer. He spoke to her about you, and she expressed an interest in meeting you, perhaps working with you once she got a feel for the condition of your magic. You took Spanish as your foreign language, is that correct?”

I nod, my mind spinning with the implications of what she's telling me. “Just... just two years though, I can't speak it much.”

“She only speaks Spanish and Maya, but if you are seriously interested in this opportunity, Mr. Garcia could always accompany you until you were settled in. Of course, I won't ask for you to make any decisions now. It is just something for you to think about, you have the rest of the school year. Your other option is to repeat senior year here—you don't have to look like that, Mr. Wolfe, you won't be failing senior year. I would simply keep you enrolled for an extra year so you can continue to work and improve. You wouldn't have to take any academic classes of course, only practical magic. Thaumaturgy; Meditation; perhaps give Household Magic another try... and you would be working extensively one-on-one with Mr. Donovan and myself in lieu of other classes.”

I slump in my chair, unable to respond.

Be abandoned in a foreign country for Merlin knows how long, or endure yet another year of all the classes I hate the most while all my friends, everyone I know, gets to move on with their lives?

It was like being asked to choose between death, or a slow and painful death.

“As I said, there is no need to make a decision now,” Ms. Cross says again. “Another option may present itself before the end of the year. But it is important that we have a plan for you, whatever it may be. The Council is becoming increasingly concerned now that you are so close to graduation.”

“They're afraid of me being set free?” I say, my head filling with the sudden image of myself as an untamed tiger, St. Bosco's my cage—for now.

“They are worried that you do not yet possess adequate control to leave the supervision of school,” Ms. Cross amends gently. “And... they do fear the amount of power you have access to, that is true.” She hesitates, as if she wants to say something else, but can't decide whether or not she should.

“You'll... you'll learn about this this year in Contemporary Magical History, and you may have already heard a little from your friends or their parents, or have seen it on the news. So I suppose it would be best if you had all the information yourself, and heard it from me.”

“What information?” I say slowly, afraid now, because Ms. Cross rarely ever seems doubtful or concerned. She's always composed, certain of herself and of her control of the world around her.

“The MRF—that is, the Magician's Revolution Front, has gained a certain degree of traction in the last few years.”

“I've heard about them,” I say uncertainly, trying to dredge up memories of news reports you could only tune in to by casting the right spell at one of the dead channels on TV. “They're a rebel group that opposes the Council, right?” At this exact moment, I can't say that I blame them.

“That's correct. They were founded in the late 1990s, out of the bones of many previous anti-Council groups that had come before them. They feel as though the Council does not have the right to act as a governing body for all Magicians, at least not in its current form. Some of their claims are valid. The Council is largely made up of older, wealthy families, and they hold all the political power in magician society, with full veto-power over any election outcomes, proposed bills, laws... And the fact that the Council is so small concerns the MRF, believing that a group of only thirteen magicians cannot accurately speak for all American Magicdom. They also believe that the Council, that no magician, should have the right to strip the magic from another living person, no matter the circumstances.”

“They don't sound too bad to me,” I mutter.

“In recent years, however, their views have been becoming increasingly extreme,” she continues as if I hadn't spoken. “They claim that no one has the right to set laws governing the use of magic, or punish offenders of those laws. That magic is in intrinsic part of of all magicians, and that punishing the use of it is as abhorrent as outlawing breathing or eating. They advocate for freedom in all things magic, which unfortunately includes using magic for violence.”

“So like... murdering a person with a knife would be illegal, but murdering someone with magic wouldn't be?” I ask.

Ms. Cross nods grimly. “Yes. And there are many among their numbers who do not believe that magicians should answer to mundane laws either. So while murdering a person with a knife, to use your example, is indeed illegal by mundane laws and anyone, magician or not, is liable to be punished under those laws; the MRF holds the belief that magicians are above the governance of mundanes. The most extreme even argue for a culling of the mundane population, until magiciankind is the majority.”

Ms. Cross shook her head. “But nowadays, with modern technology, a magician uprising could never realistically happen. The mundanes have armies, and despite our magic, we don't have the necessary numbers to conquer the mundane world. And when we inevitably lost that war, we would have revealed ourselves to the world and risk capture, imprisonment, and worse. The MRF don't think of it like that, however. They are convinced that with our efforts combined, the magical world could overcome the mundane one and put us in a position of power. They feel that we live beneath the heels of the mundanes, not alongside them as most magicians see it. They seek total political revolution, and they are under the assumption that the way to achieve that is to overthrow the Council. They believe that without the Council's control, the rest of the magical population would quickly learn to see things their way, and support a coup.

“I have little love for the Council myself. I am a strong supporter of the Reform movement myself. I feel that the Council needs a serious overhaul to continue to continue to keep the magical world safe and united. And ever since you have come under my care, those beliefs of mine have only strengthened. I see how the Council fears you, fears what you are capable of, and I have heard their own suggestions about what to do with you, and I see that there is no compassion there, no consideration for the individual, only the whole. Only themselves, if truth be told.

“And that brings me to the point of this tangent. The MRF know about you, Adam. Everyone in the magical world does, but they are as interested in you as the Council is afraid of you. In fact, the Council fears you because of the MRF's interest. The MRF sees you as the perfect weapon. Your power is uncontainable. Your magic is wild. And, most importantly, you have reason to hate the Council. They would seek to convince you to join their efforts, to fight for them, to help them overthrow the Council once and for all. The Council of course knows this, and that is why they treat you the way they do, why they threaten to strip you of your magic if you can't gain control of it. They are terrified of you falling into the hands of the MRF and coming after them, and are prepared to do whatever they can to stop that from happening. Of course, in their fear, they have only succeeded in making you feel isolated and hunted, at the risk of turning you right into the arms of the MRF who would be only too happy to promise you revenge on those who would seek to take your magic from you.”

Ms. Cross finally falls silent, allowing me a minute for all this information to sink in.

I already knew some of it, about how the Council is planning on stripping me of my magic if I prove to be too dangerous to handle, about how they think I might become a super villain intent on taking down the government.

I had no idea though that there is a specific group they already feared, a group that knows who am I and wants me to join them. I didn't realize that the Council's fears are so based in reality, not just paranoia.

“Are... are the MRF going to try to kidnap me or something?” I ask Ms. Cross.

She hesitates, which frightens me more than anything. “It's doubtful.”

“But possible?”

“It's possible,” she admits grudgingly. “But unlikely, at least right now. Their numbers are growing, but not enough that they could attempt a coup now. And bringing you over to their side so obviously, whether or not you were willing, would only make the Council respond with extreme force. The MRF won't want to risk that until they know they can withstand a direct assault. At this point in time, I think it more likely that they may send someone to try to talk you into joining of your own free will, to share their ideals with you in a way that entices you into their forces.

“I am not your mother. I am not your government either. I can't tell you that you can't join the MRF if given the choice. But I can tell you that I do not agree with their tactics or the way they propose to treat mundanes. I believe that they would not be afraid to resort to force to get you to join their ranks. As things are now, I can stand as a barrier between you and the Council, and while you are here at school I can do my best to keep you out of reach of the MRF. But you will be eighteen in a month, Adam, and free to do whatever you will after you graduate.

“Remaining here to continue your study post-graduation would keep you under my protection. Going to Mexico would remove you from the interest of both the Council and the MRF, and possibly offer you the best chance you will have to learn how to harness your magic. I know this is all overwhelming, and a terrible thing to have to tell you on your first day back to school. But I want you to have all the information. This is your life, and I want you to be able to make the decision you think is right for you. If you want to know my personal opinion, I will tell you, but I would prefer for you to think this over for a while yourself and consider both options fully before we discuss this again. Do you agree?”

I nod without saying anything. What could I say?

Ms. Cross gets up from her chair and leads me out of her office. I still hold a handful of starbursts, half forgotten in a loose grip.

“Don't forget to have dinner tonight,” the headmistress advises. “You're looking thin.”

I mumble something, a “yes, ma'am” or something like it, and shuffle down the hallway, my head still spinning.