I do show up to class the next day, and he does keep his promise of variation. He instructs me in something he calls ‘negative space’. According to him, if I master this, it means that I will learn to move air instead of things - however lighter it is, it still has mass, and mass I can move - and that will mean that people will no longer feel me grabbing hold of them. I can see how this could be useful in the War Room or Fight Club for examples, but not so much in dressmaking - except perhaps for testing how it’ll react in wind conditions. So I sit in my corner again as the others practice blind navigation.

“How is it going down here?” the professor asks me just before lunch.

“Can I have some water?” I inquire.

“Of course, I think that’s a brilliant idea actually. You can just get some yourself, right?” I instantly summon the water. I close my eyes again and concentrate on making the water into a unicorn figurine. Air is basically a really, really thin liquid, isn’t it? At least objects act relatively alike in both air and water, only water is denser - easier to practice on. I sense professor Holt crouch down and open my eyes to see him bend over with a hand over his heart.

“Everything alright Professor?” A few heads turn back towards us, eyes open.

“Pam,” he whispers, collects himself for a second, and runs off with a “Stay here,” hanging in his trail. I close my eyes quickly and follow him up the Eastern stairs. Floor 7, floor 8, floor 9, floor 10, floor 11 and turning to the right. He stops up to catch his breath. There’s something in the room next to him, something big. I try to feel around for whatever it is, but it senses me and lashes out. I open my eyes and look down at the long, bloody marks on my arm. Claw marks. Claw marks that can hurt me physically even though I’m only there mentally.

I get up and hurry to the door. I didn’t check the room number, but the floor matches and it was the correct side of the fortress. It was room 1126, I’m sure of it.

“He said to stay here,” challenge boy reminds me.

“Because he doesn’t want to see us hurt, not because he doesn’t need assistance.” I run across the hall and make my way up the stairs as fast as I can. I make my way through the hallway to the open door of room 1126. The sight that meets me almost makes me run back. Pam is on the floor next to the door, deep scratch marks on both her arms like she used them to cover her face. Professor Holt is standing with his back to her, facing the giant beast taking up most of the room. He looks behind him at the sound of me entering.

“Take care of her,” he orders in an oddly soft voice. The sound and the momentary lack of focus allows the beast to move forward. He only just manages to avoid the jaws clenching down on thin air. “Stop the bleeding,” he says me, this time keeping his eyes on the beast. I kneel down next to her but watch the beast instead.

“Easy, easy.” I hear the professor say. “She won’t hurt you, she’s not dangerous.” His voice is calm and steady, and somehow reminds me of the rare occasions when I was a kid when it was the Sergeant who read me the bedtime story. The calming power of a usually strong and demanding voice suddenly turned soft and understanding, no longer commanding, there’s nothing quite like it. “It’s okay, it’s all fine.” He assures the beast again, and it crosses my mind that he isn’t talking to a beast at all, he sees something different. He sees someone scared, not someone dangerous. For the first time, it crosses my mind that he has got a handle on this, no one could handle this better than him. I shift my focus to Pam instead. There’s blood everywhere. I try to hold her steady, support her head. I have no idea what to do about the wounds, liquids are harder than firm surface objects. I try to put pressure on it and stop the bleeding, and I kind of manage that on her right arm, but the left keeps bleeding, and much more than the other. I wipe some of the blood away and see a huge bitemark, the diameter of each tooth about half an inch. I can’t even guess what the depth is.

“Negative space,” professor Holt reminds me calmly, still looking only at the furball in front of him. Negative space. Move the air. If I can wrap the air tightly around her arm the blood has nowhere to go. If I can keep the air still around her the blood can’t escape. I close my eyes and focus. I couldn’t manage this in class. I couldn’t even make the water do anything. I couldn’t make the blood stop flowing. How am I supposed to shape air? I take a deep breath.

“It’s going to be okay.” I hear the professor say, unsure if he’s speaking to me of the fur ball. I lift my hand up and hold it over her arm. I feel the fear pumping through my own veins. What if I can’t do this? What if I fail? Can she still make it? The blood dripping down on my skirt tells me it’s unlikely. I try to keep my hand steady, to do the job I’ve been assigned. I can feel her troubled breath and focus on that. I feel her breathe out, and pay attention to her breathe in. I imprint the feeling on my mind, feel it brush against my mentality. I take a deep breath, and I shift my focus to the air around her arm. It’s not moving, it’s not hot, and it’s a lot harder to get a feel of. I lean in and blow on the wounds as if I was dealing with Nico’s scraped knee. That helps. I get the feel of the air, and I hold it there. I press it against her arm and hold it there. Or I think I do at least, as soon as the heat and movement disappear, I no longer know if I’m actually holding anything.

“What happened?” a scared voice asks.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine now,” professor Holt says. I keep my focus on Pam.

“Did I do that?” the voice asks. I hear the professor turn and look at us.

“She’s going to be okay, see, her friend is taking care of her. Everything is going to be fine.” I open my eyes, still keeping my focus on Pam. The beast is gone, and instead, there’s a little girl in the middle of the floor. The professor takes a blanket off one of the beds and wraps it carefully around her. She can’t be more than 10.

“Stay here with Pam,” he tells me. “I’ll send someone up for you.” He leads the girl with him from the room. He holds her hand, and she practically hugs his to her, looking terrified at the blood. I look down at Pam who’s passed out. What in the name of sanity just happened?