---
Master Venn moved. He did not run. He did not shout. He made a shape with his fingers and flicked his wrist. A chalk stub appeared like a magic trick, but it was no trick. Chalk went everywhere with him. He jumped off the last step and hit the ground in two quiet strides.
Master Hale lifted her right hand, palm down. The guard at her side was already moving. The other guard along the rope had sped up. The brown-haired proctor near Fizz was one step away now. He reached out a hand.
"Stop," the proctor said to Fartray, and his voice was not loud, but it had the weight of a rule inside it.
Fartray did not stop. Pride had its hands on his ears now. He lifted his water shield higher and pulled his right hand back to throw.
John's dark ball sank a little. It pulled a breath. Pebbles near his boot rasped on the path. The football-sized shadow rolled forward in the air like a slow, heavy cat about to pounce.
