Natalie mouths “sorry,” letting herself get swept away by the others, already chatting about a weekend shopping trip to Stockholm. Natalie hates shopping. Maybe Aysha would figure that out if she ever let Natalie get a word in edgewise.

Off they go, the formidable foursome, leaving me feeling as hollow as the rotten oak clinging to the edge of the path and casting gaunt shadows across the school’s entrance. It’s barely standing, just a shell of gnarled bark with nothing on the inside but bird poop and an abandoned squirrel’s nest. Yip, that’s me.

Useless, pathetic, waste of space, the little voice at the back of my mind starts to whisper. I hate that voice, but no matter how tightly I squeeze my fists and will the voice to shut up, its words play on repeat. That voice wasn’t nearly so loud back when Natalie was my friend, back when she was still new to the school, fresh and shy from her home in Johannesburg.

All that changed last year, and I mean, I get it. Natalie wants friends like her, friends who share her magical abilities, not some useless, pathetic, waste of space like me. I can’t blame her, but it doesn’t make the knot of thorns in my chest any less prickly when I think about it.

Studying the muddy path, I keep my head down and hood up as Emmi leads us into the forest around the back of the school, away from the lake.

Ridiculous weather. Ridiculous trees and ridiculous leaves clinging to my boots. I stomp my feet but only succeed in splashing mud onto my ankles. I hate everything about this day. I don’t understand why my parents force me to go to this horrible school where no one wants me.

“Right, class. Today we’re going to practice sourcing and storing natural energy,” Emmi begins and everyone groans. “Divide into your houses.”

The others grumble even as they gather in their elemental groups. I study my hands, imagining what it must feel like to control electricity the way Ekaterina does. Well, technically it’s lightning thanks to her great-great-great-times-infinity-grandfather being Perun, the Slavic god of storms. All I can do is watch as Ekaterina and Natalie join the other fire mages in House Fajro.

Natalie straightens her shoulders in her red jacket with white faux fur on the hood. She tugs her matching beanie down over her hair. My cheeks heat as I remember how she used to let me help her tie it in puffs and how she used to braid mine back before I cut it all off.

“Right, Fajro, let’s do this.” Natalie assumes leadership given she’s the most gifted fire wielder in the whole school. And we’re not talking some ordinary pyrokinesist here, but a genuine fire mage thanks to Muspellian genes from her Norwegian mom. Natalie controls elemental fire as easily as others breathe.