Shelving those feelings, I lead the way up the stairs to Joakim’s classroom. It’s dark, but the light from our phones is enough to stop us from tripping over each other. Before we go in, we pause to catch our breath and listen for sounds of being followed.

Hearing nothing except the moans and groans of the pipes in the walls, we slip inside. The phone flashlights turn all our faces into horror masks, but we need the light to navigate the clutter and don’t dare turn on the main overhead ones.

Containment sigils, protection charms, wards for wood and glass, metal, ceramics, and even plastic are all daubed on pieces of paper and haphazardly stuck to the walls with no sense of order.

“I’ve never actually been in here,” I say.

“Me neither,” Sini adds.

“What a shambles.” Aysha’s nose puckers in disgust.

“If Joakim teaches the way he decorates it’s no wonder bogles end up being summoned.” Ekaterina is wearing her usual sour expression.

“Joakim is all right, if a bit disorganized,” Morgan says. “Containment stuff is back here.”

He moves toward a door marked Storeroom, except the only visible letters are st and oo courtesy of screeds of incantations printed and stapled to the door. Not even stuck, stapled. Can’t help wondering if my mom knows Joakim is damaging school property.

Morgan closes the door behind us and flips on the storeroom lights.

“How on earth does he find anything in here?”

The storeroom is a disaster. Jars of various sizes teeter on lopsided shelves, inexplicably sharing space with homework assignments from two years ago, which have yet to be graded. Outdated textbooks lie back-to-back with current ones. There are even damaged books—some clearly singed by spells gone awry—nestled alongside several broken jars.

“Where do we even start?” Aysha’s mouth hangs open as she surveys the mess.

“We start from the door and move along each shelf.” My gaze slides from one hideously shambolic shelf to the next. My fingers itch to sort and straighten, but the last thing we need is Joakim knowing someone has been snooping.

“What’s that up there?” Sini points to the topmost shelf.

“Bingo!” Morgan smiles, and I catch Aysha staring at him with a look I hope I never ever gave Natalie. It’s so obvious she’s into him.

“Glass would probably work best, and those jars look like they haven’t been touched in years. Joakim won’t notice one of those missing,” he says.

Even from the floor, I can see a thick layer of dust coating the shelf, turning the clear jars grimy.

“Are they warded?” Ekaterina asks.

“Won’t know till we touch one.” Morgan takes advantage of his height, stretching his arm to full extension, but he doesn’t quite manage to reach.