The Copper Gauntlet (9 page)

What if Alastair had failed, knowing that the mages would move the Alkahest out of the Collegium to a more secure location? What if he already knew the secure place that they were very likely to use — a terrain where he’d have the advantage?

Back at the house, beside the drawings of the Alkahest, there’d been a map of the layout of the airline hangar where the Trial had been held.

Call hadn’t wondered where Alastair had gotten that from, until now. Tamara’s parents said that Alastair was a great metal mage and Master Rufus had said that the Alkahest was safe, in a vault created by metal mages, below a place the kids had been before. The airplane hangar was made almost entirely of metal. Maybe Alastair — being a great metal mage — had been one of the people who’d helped build it, one of the people who knew exactly how to get into the hangar and to the vault that might be below it.

If all that was true, then Alastair hadn’t failed to steal the Alkahest. If all that was true, the Alkahest was more vulnerable than ever.

Call lay awake for a long time that night, staring into the dark.

Call went through much of the next day in a daze. He couldn’t pay attention in class when Master Rufus was trying to teach them how to levitate objects using metal and earth magic, and he dropped a lit candle on Tamara’s head. He forgot to walk Havoc, which had unfortunate results for the rug in his bedroom. In the Refectory, he got distracted by the fact that Celia was waving at him — and nearly tripped Aaron.

Aaron stumbled, catching himself on the edge of one of the stone tables bearing enormous cauldrons of soup. “All right,” he said firmly, taking Call’s plate out of his hands. “That’s enough.”

Tamara nodded fervently. “Way past enough.”

“What?” Call was alarmed; Aaron had become very businesslike, piling food briskly onto Call’s plate. Huge mountains of food. “What’s going on?”

“You’re being all weird,” said Tamara, who had piled her plate high as well. “We’re going back to the room to talk about it.”

“What? I’m not — I don’t —” But Call was caught up in his friends’ determination like a dust mote in a windstorm. Carrying plates, Tamara and Aaron marched him out of the Refectory, back down the corridors to their room, and pushed him inside still protesting.

They put their plates down on the table and went to grab cutlery. Seconds later they were gathered around the food, forking up lichen pizza and mossy mashed potatoes.

Hesitantly, Call picked up his fork. “What do you mean I’m weird?”

“Distracted,” Tamara said. “You keep dropping things and forgetting things. You called Master Rufus Jasper and you called Jasper Celia. And you forgot to walk Havoc.”

Havoc barked. Call looked at him darkly.

“Plus you keep staring off into space like someone died,” Aaron said, handing Call a fork. “What’s going on? And don’t say ‘Nothing.’ ”

Call looked at them. His friends. He was so tired of lying. He didn’t want to be like Constantine Madden. He wanted to be a good person. The idea of telling them the truth felt awful, but being good wasn’t supposed to be fun, right?

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” Call asked them. “You absolutely promise and swear on — on your honor as a mage?”

Call was kind of proud of that one, since he’d just made it up. Both Call and Tamara looked impressed.

“Absolutely,” said Tamara.

“Definitely,” said Aaron.

“I think it was my dad who tried to steal the Alkahest,” Call confessed.

Aaron dropped a plate of lichen onto the table. “
What?
”

Tamara looked absolutely horrified. “Call, don’t joke around.”

“I’m not,” Call said. “I wouldn’t. I think he tried to steal it from the Collegium and I think he’s going to try to steal it again. This time, he might succeed.”

Aaron gaped at him. “Why would your father do that? How do you know?”

Call told them what he’d found in the basement, how Havoc had been chained up, how he’d found the open books with the illustrations of the Alkahest in them. He told them about the map of the airplane hangar, too.

“He was going to cut out Havoc’s heart to power the device?” Tamara asked, looking green.

At his name, the wolf looked up at Call and whined. Call nodded.

“But you didn’t see it anywhere? The Alkahest itself?” Aaron asked.

Call shook his head. “I didn’t know it was a real thing. I didn’t know what he was doing or what he wanted Havoc for.” He didn’t mention the boy-size shackles on the wall. He was prepared to tell some of the truth but not all of it. He wasn’t sure where that fell on the Evil Overlord spectrum, but he didn’t care.

“Why would your dad want to kill Aaron?” Tamara demanded.

“He wouldn’t,” Call said quickly. “I am totally, completely sure my dad isn’t working for the Enemy of Death.”

“But then why would he — ?” Tamara shook her head. “I don’t get it. Your dad hates magic. Why would he be trying to power an Alkahest if he wasn’t trying to …”

Call was starting to panic. Why wouldn’t Tamara believe him? Some small part of him knew that missing the piece of the story where Call was the Enemy of Death, it was hard to come up with a reason Alastair might want the Alkahest that
didn’t
have to do with Aaron.

“He hates the Magisterium,” Call said, balling his hands into fists under the table. “Maybe he just wants to freak out the mages. Scare them.”

“Maybe he wants to kill the Enemy,” suggested Aaron. “Maybe he’s trying to get rid of him so you will be safe.”

“The Enemy’s been around for dozens of years,” said Tamara. “And Alastair just got this idea? And it’s a coincidence that the minute a new Makar shows up, he starts working on a Makar-killing device?”

“Maybe he’s trying to get rid of
me
so Call will be safe,” Aaron said, his green eyes darkening. “I nearly got both of you killed when they kidnapped me, and Call did agree to be my counterweight. That’s dangerous.”

“Like Call said, Alastair hates mages,” said Tamara. “I don’t think he cares about the war. If he brings the Magisterium down, then Call won’t have to go here anymore, and that’s what he wants more than anything.” She bit nervously on her thumbnail. “We have to tell someone.”

“What?” Call sat bolt upright. “Tamara, I swear, Alastair is not working for the Enemy!”

“So what?” Tamara said, an edge to her voice. “He’s trying to steal a dangerous magical device. Even if your dad just wanted to keep it around so he slept better at night, the Alkahest is too valuable and too deadly. What if the Enemy knew he had it? He’d kill your dad and take the Alkahest. Telling the other mages will help protect him.”

Call hurled himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth. “No. I’ll go to my dad and tell him I know his plan. That way he won’t be able to go through with it, and the Alkahest will stay safe.”

“That’s too risky,” Aaron said. “Your dad was going to cut out Havoc’s heart. I don’t think you should go anywhere near him alone. He threw a knife at you, remember?”

“He was throwing it
to
me,” Call said, even though he no longer knew if he believed that.

Tamara let out a long breath. “I know you don’t want to get your dad in trouble, but he did this to himself.”

“He’s my
dad
,” said Call. “I should be the one to decide.” He looked at Tamara. Her dark eyes were fixed on him. Call took a deep breath and played his last card. “You swore you’d keep my secret. You swore on your honor.”

Tamara’s voice broke. “Call! What if you’re wrong about him wanting to hurt Aaron? What if you’re wrong about your father? You might be. We don’t always know our family members the way we think we do.”

“So you were lying,” Call said. “You lied to my face. You don’t have any honor.”

Aaron got to his feet. “Guys, come on —”

“Look, I’m going to tell Master Rufus,” Tamara said. “I know you don’t want me to, and I know I said I wouldn’t, but I have to.”

“You don’t have to,” Call told her, his voice rising. “And if you cared about other things besides getting ahead in the Magisterium, you wouldn’t. You’re supposed to be my friend. You’re supposed to keep your word.”

“Aaron’s your friend!” she shouted. “Don’t you even care what the Enemy might do to him?”

“If Call says his dad isn’t working for the Enemy, I believe him,” Aaron said hurriedly. “I’m the one in danger, so it should be my choice —”

Tamara’s face was scarlet and there were tears in her eyes. Call realized that no matter what, she would always choose Aaron over him. “You’ll just let yourself be put in danger!” she yelled. “It’s who you are! And Call knows it.” She whirled on Call. “How dare you take advantage of that. I will tell Master Rufus. I will. And if something happens to Aaron because of the Alkahest, then it’s — it’s your fault!”

She turned and bolted out of the room. Call realized he was breathing as hard as if he’d been running. And in another second, he
was
running, racing after Tamara.

“Havoc,” he yelled. “Come on! Get her! I mean, don’t hurt her. Only maim her a little!”

Havoc gave a howl, but Aaron — after giving Call a thoroughly disgusted look — grabbed for his collar. The Makar threw himself on the wolf while Call skidded out into the corridor just in time to see Tamara’s braids whipping around the end of the hall. He started after her, but he knew that with his leg, he could never catch up.

Fury bloomed inside his chest as he ran. Tamara was untrustworthy and terrible. He’d expected his friends to be angry, but not to
betray
him. Fiery darts of pain shot up his leg; he slipped and fell to his knees, and for a moment — just a moment — he thought of what exactly he would do if he could have two working legs, if he could leave the pain behind him. What would he do for that? Would he kill for it? Would he stop caring about his Evil Overlord list?

“Call?” There was a hand on his shoulder, and then on his arm, pulling him to his feet. Alex Strike, looking put-together as usual, his uniform pristine, seemed concerned. “What are you doing?”

“Tamara —” Call gasped.

“She went toward Rufus’s office,” said Alex, pointing at a set of iron-and-copper double doors. “Are you sure you should —”

But Call was already darting around him. He knew exactly where Rufus’s office was. He pounded down the last corridor and threw open the door.

Tamara was standing in the center of the room, on the middle of a circular rug. Rufus was leaning against his desk, backlit by the glow of lamps behind him. He looked very grave.

Call skidded to a halt. He looked back and forth between Tamara and Rufus.

“You can’t,” he said to Tamara. “You can’t tell him.”

Tamara straightened her shoulders. “I have to, Call.”

“You
promised
,” Call said raggedly. He’d half thought that Aaron might have followed him, but Aaron hadn’t, and he felt suddenly and horribly alone, facing both Tamara and Rufus as if they were enemies. He felt a flash of rage toward Tamara. He’d never wanted to be angry at her, or hide things from Rufus. He’d never wanted to be in this position. And he’d never wanted to think he couldn’t trust Tamara.

“It seems that something serious is happening here,” said Rufus.

“Nothing,” Call said. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Rufus looked back and forth, from Call to Tamara. Call knew which one of them would be trusted. He even knew which one of them should be trusted.

“Fine,” said Tamara. “I’ll just say it. Alastair Hunt is the one who tried to steal the Alkahest, and if we don’t stop him, he’ll try again.”

Master Rufus raised his thin eyebrows. “How do you know that?”

“Because,” Tamara said, even as Call fixed her with eyes like daggers, “Call said so.”

T
HE MAGES SENT
Tamara back to her room. She went without looking at Call, her head down, her shoulders hunched. He didn’t say anything to her. He had to stay behind and answer endless questions about what he’d seen and hadn’t seen, about how Alastair had been behaving and whether he’d ever spoken about Constantine Madden. Call was asked whether he knew that his father and Constantine had once been friends, and especially about whether Alastair had ever spoken about Call’s mother, Sarah, in a way that suggested he wanted to bring her back from the dead.

“Is that possible?” Call asked. But nobody would give him a straight answer.

Call could tell that while Aaron — and even maybe Tamara — might have believed Alastair wasn’t in league with the Enemy, all the Masters were sure he was a traitor. Or crazy. Or a crazy traitor.

If Call had wanted to discredit Alastair, to make it impossible for anyone to believe him if he claimed Call had the soul of Constantine Madden, he couldn’t have done a better job. That part should have made him happy, but it didn’t. Nothing did. He was furious with himself and even more furious with Tamara.

It was late when they finally dismissed him, and Master Rufus led him back to his room.

“I understand now why you did not wish to see your father when he came for you,” Master Rufus said.

Call didn’t respond. Adults had an amazing knack for stating the obvious, and also for telling you whenever they figured anything out.

“You need to know that you are not in trouble, Callum,” said Rufus. “No one would have expected you to break your father’s secrecy, but this burden should never have been set on your shoulders.”

Call stayed silent. He’d been talking for hours and he had nothing more to say.

“Your father became very eccentric after the war. Maybe none of us was willing to see how extreme his behavior had become. Working with the elements as we do has many dangers. We can bend the world to our desires. But the toll on the mind can be great.”

“He’s not insane,” Call snapped.

Master Rufus paused and peered down at Call for a long moment. “I would be very careful about saying that where someone could overhear you,” Master Rufus told him. “Better the world thinks he’s mad than believes him to be in league with the Enemy.”

“Do you think he’s insane?” Call demanded.

“I cannot imagine Alastair in league with Constantine,” Rufus answered after a pause. “I taught them both. They were indeed friends. No one was more betrayed by Constantine’s eventual descent into evil than Alastair was. No one was more determined to bring Constantine down — even more so after Sarah was killed. There is no greater betrayal than that of a friend.”

Call looked at Rufus, feeling dizzy. He thought of Aaron, who had been born to defeat Call. Destined for it, even if he didn’t know it.

“Some people are meant to be friends, and some to be enemies,” said Rufus. “Eventually the universe rights itself.”

“Everything in balance,” Call muttered. It was an alchemical saying.

“Exactly.” Rufus laid a hand on Call’s shoulder, which was surprising enough to make Call jump. “Will you be all right?”

Call nodded and slipped into his rooms. They were empty; both Tamara and Aaron had gone to their bedrooms, the doors shut tightly. He went into his own room and lay down on the bed fully clothed. Havoc was already asleep on the blankets. Call drew Miri from her sheath and held her up where he could see her, could see the whorls and swirls of folded metal in the blade.
Peace.

He let his hand fall to the side and closed his eyes, too exhausted to even bother to undress.

He woke the next day to the wretched screaming of the first bell, which meant he was already late for breakfast. He hadn’t eaten much the night before and he felt queasy, as though he’d been punched several times in the stomach instead of just skipped a meal.

He pulled on a fresh uniform and tugged on his boots.

Neither Tamara nor Aaron was waiting for him in the common space of their rooms. Either they’d decided they hated him or they didn’t even know he’d returned the night before.

With his Chaos-ridden wolf trailing after him, Call began his stiff-legged walk to the Refectory. It was teeming with apprentices. Gray-clad Iron Year students milled around, still making faces over the fuzziness of the piles of different colored lichen and gaping at large mushroom slices toasting on a grill. A few of the Silver and Gold Year apprentices sat in clumps, back from missions and looking around as contemptuously as if they were already Masters.

Aaron was sitting at a table with some of the other Copper Years. Celia was there, along with Gwenda, Rafe, Laurel, and Jasper. The plates in front of them were clean.

Tamara was at another table with Kimiya and her friends. Call wondered if she was telling them all about Alastair and Call and what a hero she was, but at this point there was nothing Call could do about it. With a sigh, he started to put together a plate of stewed purple tubers that smelled a bit like porridge for himself and some bacony lichen for Havoc. He ate standing up, so he wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone. He wasn’t sure he’d be welcome anywhere.

When the second alarm sounded, Call headed toward where Master Rufus was sitting with the other Masters.

“Ah,” Master Rufus said, summoning Tamara and Aaron toward him with a wave of his hand. “Time to begin our lessons.”

“Hurrah,” said Call sarcastically. Master Rufus gave him a quelling look and rose to lead them out of the Refectory. Call, Aaron, and Tamara trailed after him like the tail of a reluctant and miserable comet.

“You okay?” Aaron asked, bumping shoulders with Call as Master Rufus led them down a set of stone stairs carved into the rock. The steps wound down and around in a spiral. Little glowing salamanders skittered across the ceiling. Call thought once again of Warren.

“That depends,” Call said. “Are you on my side or hers?”

He glanced over at Tamara, whose lips tightened. She looked as if she was thinking about pushing Call down the steps.

Aaron was visibly upset. “Does there have to be sides?”

“When she turns my father in, yeah, there has to be sides!” Call hissed. “Nobody who was really my friend would do that. She promised to keep a secret and she lied. She’s a liar.”

“And no one who was really Aaron’s friend would protect someone who was trying to kill him!” Tamara snapped.

“And again,
liar
, if you were really my friend, you’d believe me when I said that wasn’t what Alastair was trying to do!”

A look worse than anger crossed Tamara’s face. It was pity. “You’re not objective, Call.”

Neither are you!
Call started to yell, but Master Rufus had whirled around and was looming over all of them menacingly.

“Not one more word about Alastair Hunt out of any of you,” he said. “Or you’ll be sorting sand instead of having dinner.”

Call had spent his first week at the Magisterium sorting sand and privately thought he’d rather take on a chaos elemental. He shut his mouth, and so did Aaron and Tamara. Tamara looked grim and Aaron looked despondent. He was biting at his fingernails, which was something he did only when he was really upset.

“Now,” said Master Rufus, turning around. Call realized that they’d made their way into a large grotto without his even noticing. The walls were covered in springy blue moss the color of the sky. Master Rufus began to pace, his hands behind his back. “We all know that in order to use an element, you require a counterweight, something that keeps you in balance so an element won’t take control of you. Right?”

“It keeps you from being Devoured. Like that fire guy,” Aaron said, referencing the monstrous, burning being they had met in the deep caverns below the Magisterium.

Master Rufus made a pained face. “Yes, the being that was once Master Marcus. Or, as you put it, ‘that fire guy.’ But there is more to it, no?”

“It’s an opposite,” Tamara said, tossing her braids. “So it pulls you in the other direction. Like the counterweight for fire is water.”

“And the counterweight for chaos is?” said Rufus, looking hard at Aaron.

“Call,” Aaron said. “I mean,
my
counterweight is Call. Not everyone’s is Call. But the counterweight for chaos is a person. Just … not always Call.”

“Eloquent as always,” said Rufus. “And is there a problem with a counterweight?”

“It’s hard to find one sometimes?” Aaron was clearly guessing, although Call thought he had to be right. Finding fire seemed like it would be hard. Maybe adult mages all carried lighters.

“It limits your power,” Tamara said. Master Rufus nodded in her direction, indicating that she’d given the superior answer.

“Limiting your power is part of how it keeps you safe,” he said. “Now, what is the
opposite
of a counterweight?”

Tamara answered that, too, showing off. “What we did with the sand last year.”

Call wanted to make a face at her, but he was pretty sure he’d get caught. That was the problem with three-person classrooms.

Master Rufus nodded. “Sympathetic acceleration, we call it. Very dangerous because it draws you deeper into the element. It gives you power, but the price can be very high.”

Call hoped this wasn’t the beginning of a lecture about how he had been a problem back then and was still a problem now.

But Master Rufus moved on. “What I’d like you all to do is to practice using your counterweights. First, gather up something to represent each of the elements. Aaron, this is going to be especially challenging for you, as you have chosen Call for your counterweight.”

“Hey!” Call said.

“I meant only that working with a human counterweight is challenging. Now, go, find your counterweights.”

Call walked around the edge of the grotto, finding a rock. Air was all around him, so he figured he had that covered. Fire and water were harder, but he used magic to turn some of the water from the silty cave pool into an orb he kept floating near his head. Then he took a vine and resolved to light it on fire with magic when the time came.

He went back to where the others were standing. Of course, they’d completed the exercise before he had.

“Very good,” said Master Rufus. “Let’s start with air magic. I am going to use air magic to send each one of you up into the air — but keep hold of your counterweight. It’s going to be your only contact with earth magic. Come down once you feel you need to use the counterweight.”

One by one, they were sent up into the air. Call could feel it whistling around him, the exhilarating lure of flying making him giddy. Flying was his favorite part of magic. In the air, his leg never bothered him. He began to use air magic, forming patterns of color, making clouds and then flying through them. The more magic he expended, the more he understood how someone could be Devoured. It seemed to him that becoming part of the air wouldn’t take much. He could relax into it and be blown along like an errant leaf. All his worries and fears would be blown away, too.

All he had to do was drop his bit of rock.

“Call.” Master Rufus was looking up at him. “The exercise is over.”

Call twisted around to see that Tamara and Aaron were already on the ground. He reached down to his stone and let the weight of its connection to earth fill him, lowering him slowly until he was standing again, his leg aching as always.

Rufus gave Call a measured look. “Well done, everyone,” he said. “Now, Aaron, we’re going to try an exercise involving chaos. Something small.”

Aaron nodded, looking nervous.

“You shouldn’t be worried,” said Rufus, indicating that they should clear a space in the center of the room. “If I understand correctly, you defeated many Chaos-ridden when you fought Master Joseph last year.”

“Yes, but …” Aaron bit at a fingernail. “I did it without a counterweight.”

“No, you didn’t. Call was there.”

“It’s true,” Tamara said. “Call was practically holding you down.”

“You may have used his magic instinctively,” said Rufus. “The counterweight of chaos is a human being because the counterweight of the void is the soul. When you use chaos magic, you seek a human soul to balance you. Without a counterweight, you can easily use up your own magic and die.”