Just then, Oliver felt a vibration in his overalls. He pulled out his plastic timetable. The coordinates had changed, indicating that he was required on the fourteenth floor. There wasnt any time to rest at all. No time to absorb anything hed just learned. Everything at the School for Seers was go, go, go!

Wed better hurry, Ralph said, placing his own vibrating timetable back into his pocket.

Oliver felt a sense of dread as he followed them across the rapidly moving walkway. He felt like hed bitten off far more than he could chew. Maybe he wasnt supposed to be here at all. Maybe he didnt belong.

Everyone piled into the elevator, riding it up to the fourteenth floor. Then they headed to another classroom. On the door, the word Transformation flashed in soft white letters. Oliver gulped.

They went inside and Oliver saw that it was decked out just like a science laboratory, but not like the type at school with wooden benches and a handful of Bunsen burners. It looked more like the high-tech laboratories of a medical or chemical company. The place was gleaming white.

Students, take your seats, the teacher said. He was a young man with a moustache.

Thats Mr. Lazzarato, Ralph said, leaning in to Oliver.

Oliver nodded, trying his best to absorb yet more information into his very saturated mind.

Mr. Lazzarato began to speak. Last week, our top student was Miss Kerr. She was the only student who managed to successfully rearrange the chemical matter she was given to create a small fire. So lets all give a hand to Hazel.

Everyone clapped, and Oliver looked over to see Hazel beaming.

Mr. Lazzarato continued. Today Im hoping for some good things from Mr. Black. With a biological specialism, this task should be easiest for you.

Oliver saw Ralph blush deeply. From what hed told Oliver, he struggled with his powers. Not much came easily to Ralph.

Walter huffed then. I swear, having a magnetic specialism is the worst, he grumbled. Weve never done a single task where Ive had the chance to excel.

Mr. Lazzarato continued. Mr. Cavendish, he said, looking at Simon. Can you hand out the worksheets? And Mr. Branner, please hand out the boxes.

Simon went up to the front of the class and collected the stack of papers. At the same time, Edmund headed toward a cart that had several small thermoplastic boxes on it.

What are those? Hazel mused aloud, squinting to try and see into the boxes.

Oliver craned his neck. In each box there appeared to be a small, white mouse.

Mice! he told her. Were not going to dissect them, are we?

Simon appeared then with their worksheets. Oliver quickly read the title and saw that far from dissecting mice, their task was to rearrange their anatomical components.

Ill never be able to do this, he stammered.