Delaney Blake's Guide to Detention

Step #9: Complete A Round Trip

We crowd too tight in a circle, huddling around the slip of paper despite how Milo is the only one who can read it. There's no way I can make out cursive upside down and I doubt Emma is much better at reading sideways. Milo's lips move as he reads each ritual recipe to himself, searching for something useful.

"I think I found the mirror portal incantation," he says.

"That is awesome," I say, "but..."

There are no mirrors in this classroom. The cabinets are all cheap pressed wood. I have a lighter stuck in my pocket, but do we have five candles or candle substitutes to create a burning pentagram? Do I have to slice myself up on a letter opener? Or maybe a nice paper cut off a dictionary?

Milo makes a face, continuing to read off the page. What do we have going for us right now?

I am in a room with two pretty smart people. Smart enough to keep a necessary page out of a textbook. Smart enough to research important information about occult practices. These two smart people are stuck with useless me.

"This might be something..." Milo mumbles, tapping his finger over a neat step-by-step instructions to something, "it looks like a portal within worlds. Like maybe something to practice while she was working her way up to inter-dimensional travelling."

"That's something," Emma offers encouragingly. I shift. It should be me offering the encouragement, but I can't find my voice. They're both too good a sport, too okay with what is happening right now, too far away from breakdowns.

I slide in even closer, brushing shoulders with both Emma and Milo as I try to read the instructions for this portal creation. Emma recoils, falling out of the circle as she avoids me. There it is. Exactly what I expected. Emma's calm is part act. She may be able to think her way to better odds, but she's not cool that I'm here trying to help, trying to probably make things worse because what else have I done here? She wouldn't have got dragged into a glass cabinet if I hadn't split us up.

"So, there's the words," I say, trying to make out the Latin. Emma still only lingers near us, not nearly as close. "Is there anything extra we need?"

Milo nods, running his finger along the line. "We need to mark out our portal with a smudge of ash."

"Oh." I say. This is not a science classroom. There aren't random jars of chemicals and former creatures locked within cabinets. Our resources are limited, but one thing I can perform is the miracle of fire. I dig my lighter out of my pocket. "I can handle that."

Emma scurries, digging trashed loose leaf from the recycling bin and laying it on the desk in front of me like an offering. A sacrifice, even. Yes, this doth please the lady of the flame.

I kind of get why Ms. Isaakov would get into this kind of thing. It's pretty exhilarating having Milo and Emma watching me intently, waiting for me to strike my lighter and burn these bits of paper. It feels so official and vaguely spiritual, like we are performing something deep. I mean, literally all I do is flick a flame on and hold it to the corner of some old notebook paper and wait for it to catch. The fire eats at the paper, turning it thin and black as it works its way over the blue lines. I pull away, letting the fire do its work, moving over the stack. The other pages catch, but it is not a swoosh of burning all at once. It disintegrates slowly, letting us watch in rapt attention as it creates this one ingredient.

"How much do we need?" Emma asks.

"Just enough to draw a door," Milo answers.

The stack of pages turns from homework to black ash and Milo scoops up a handful, dusting his clothes black in the process. I follow him to the wall next to the door, Emma trailing a foot behind me, like she can never come closer than that again.