by Holly Black
Call was stung. “Lump?”
“Anyone would think you weren’t happy for Aaron. You’re not jealous, are you?”
She was so wrong that Call could do nothing for a minute but splutter. “Yeah, I want everybody standing there eyeballing me like — like —”
“Tamara?”
Jasper was waiting by their door, looking miserable.
Tamara drew herself up. Call was always impressed by the way she managed to make herself seem about six feet tall, when in reality she was shorter than him. “What do you want, Jasper?”
She sounded frustrated at being stopped from further interrogating Call. For the first time ever, Call thought Jasper might be good for something.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked. He looked so miserable that Call actually felt bad for him. “I’ve got a bunch of extra lessons and … I could really use your help.”
“Not mine?” Call asked, thinking of the night in the Library.
Jasper ignored Call. “Please, Tamara. I know I was a jerk, but I want to be friends again.”
“You weren’t a jerk to me,” she said. “Tell Call you’re sorry and I’ll think about it.”
“Sorry,” Jasper said, looking down.
“Whatever,” said Call. It wasn’t a real apology — and Tamara didn’t even know about the time Jasper had screamed Call out of the Library — so he didn’t think he had to accept it. But he figured that if Tamara went with Jasper, it would buy him some time to deal with the wolf. Time he desperately needed. “You should help him, Tamara. He needs lots, and lots, and lots of help.” He locked eyes with Jasper.
Tamara sighed. “Okay, fine, Jasper. But you have to be civil to my friends, not just me. No more little snide comments.”
“But what about him!” Jasper objected. “He makes snide comments all the time.”
Tamara looked from Call to Jasper. She sighed. “How about if you both stop making snide comments.”
“Never!” Call said.
Tamara rolled her eyes and followed Jasper down the hallway, promising Call she’d see him at dinner.
Which left Call all alone in his room with a squirming, Chaos-ridden puppy. Lifting the wolf and tucking it back into his coat, despite a few yipping protests, Call made for the Mission Gate, going as fast as he could without his leg giving him trouble. He was afraid the door to the outside of the cave would be locked, but it turned out to be easy to open from the inside. The doors of the metal gate were closed, but Call didn’t need to go that far. Hoping no one could see, Call let the wolf out of his jacket. It slunk around, looking at the metal nervously and sniffing the air before finally peeing on a frozen clump of weeds.
Call gave him a few more moments before he swept the wolf back up under his coat.
“Come on,” he told the pup. “We’ve got to get back before anyone sees us. And before someone throws away the leftovers from breakfast.”
Back through the halls he went, hunching over when he passed other apprentices so they wouldn’t notice the shifting shape under his coat. He barely made it back to the room before the wolf leaped free. Then it made itself at home by knocking over the trash and eating the remains of Tamara’s breakfast out of it.
Finally, Call managed to corral the wolf back into his room, where he brought it a bowl of water, two raw eggs, and a single cold sausage that had been left out on the counter. The wolf gobbled the food down, shells and all. Then they played a game of tug-of-war with one of the blankets from the bed.
Just as Call yanked the blanket free and the wolf pounced again, Call heard the outer door open. Someone came into their common room. He paused, trying to figure out if Tamara had once again realized Jasper was a jerk and had come back early, or if Aaron had returned. In that silence, he heard the distinct sound of something being thrown against a wall. The wolf hopped off the bed and slunk under it, whining softly.
Call padded to his door. Opening it, he saw Aaron sitting on the couch, taking off one of his boots. The other boot was on the far side of the room. There was a dirt mark on the wall where it had hit.
“Um, are you okay?” Call asked.
Aaron looked surprised to see him. “I didn’t think either of you were here.”
Call cleared his throat. He felt weirdly awkward. He wondered if Aaron would stay here with them now that he was the Makar or would be taken to some kind of fancy private hero-who-has-to-save-the-world digs. “Well, Tamara went off with Jasper somewhere. I guess they’re friends again.”
“Whatever,” said Aaron, without much interest. It was the sort of thing that normally he would have wanted to talk about. There were other things Call wanted to talk to Aaron about, too, like the wolf, and Tamara’s parents’ weird behavior, and the black stone in Aaron’s wristband, and what that meant about the band Call’s father had sent Rufus, but Call wasn’t sure how to start. Or if he should.
“So,” he said, “you must be really excited about all this … chaos magic stuff.”
“Sure,” Aaron replied. “I’m thrilled.”
Call knew sarcasm when he heard it. For a moment, he couldn’t quite believe it was coming from Aaron. But there Aaron was, staring at his boot, his jaw set. He was definitely upset.
“Do you want me to leave you alone so you can throw your other boot?” Call asked.
Aaron took a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just don’t know if I want to be a Makar.”
Call was so surprised that for a moment he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Why not?” he finally blurted out. Aaron was perfect for the role. He was exactly what everyone thought a hero should be like — nice, brave, and into doing hero stuff like running straight at a Chaos-ridden wolf pack instead of running away like a normal, sane person.
“You don’t understand,” said Aaron. “Everyone is acting like this is great news, but it’s not great for me. The last Makar died at age fifteen, and, fine, she pushed back the war and made the Treaty happen, but she still died. And she died horribly.”
Which went with everything Call’s father had ever said about the mages.
“You’re not going to die,” Call told Aaron firmly. “Verity Torres died in a battle, a big battle. You’re at the Magisterium. The Masters won’t let you die.”
“You don’t know that,” said Aaron.
That’s why your mother died. Because of magic, said Call’s dad’s voice in his head.
“Okay, fine. Then you should run away,” Call suggested abruptly.
Aaron’s head snapped up. That had gotten his attention. “I’m not going to run away!”
“Well, you could,” Call said.
“No, I couldn’t.” Aaron’s green eyes were blazing; he looked really angry now. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“What do you mean?” Call asked, but in the back of his head, he knew, or guessed: Aaron never talked about his family, never said anything about his home life….
“Don’t you notice anything?” Aaron demanded. “Didn’t you wonder where my parents were at the Trial? I don’t have any. My mom’s dead, my dad ran off. I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since I was two. I come from a foster home. More than one. They’d get bored with keeping me, or the checks from the government wouldn’t be enough, and they’d push me on to the next home. I met the girl who told me about the Magisterium in my last foster home. She was someone I could talk to — until her brother graduated from here and took her away. At least you’ve always had your dad. Being at the Magisterium is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to leave.”
“I’m sorry,” Call mumbled. “I didn’t know.”
“After she told me about the Magisterium, coming here became my dream,” Aaron said. “My only chance. I knew I’d have to pay the Magisterium back for all the good things it’s done for me,” he added quietly. “I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“That’s a horrible thing to think,” Call said. “You don
’t owe anybody your whole life.”
“Sure I do,” said Aaron, and Call knew he would never be able to convince Aaron it wasn’t true. He thought of Aaron up there on the podium, with everyone applauding, getting told he was everyone’s only chance. For someone as nice as Aaron, there was no way he was going to push that off on somebody else, even if he could. That was what made him a hero. They had him right where they wanted him.
And since Call was his friend — whether Aaron wanted him to be or not — he was going to make sure they didn’t make him do anything stupid.
“And it’s not just me,” Aaron said tiredly. “I’m a chaos magician. I’ll need a counterweight. A human counterweight. Who’s going to volunteer for that?”
“It’s an honor,” Call said. “To be the counterweight for a Makar.” He knew that much, at least. It had been part of Tamara’s excited babbling.
“The last human counterweight died when the Makar died in battle,” Aaron said. “And we all know what happened before that. That’s how the Enemy of Death killed his brother. I can’t see anyone lining up for it.”
“I will,” said Call.
Aaron abruptly stopped talking, his face cycling through expressions. At first he looked incredulous, as though he suspected Call of saying it as a joke or just to be contrary. Then when he realized Call was serious, he looked horrified.
“You can’t!” Aaron said. “Didn’t you hear anything I just told you? You could die.”
“Well, don’t kill me,” Call said. “How about our goal is not to die? Both of us. Together. Not dying.”
Aaron didn’t say anything for a long moment and Call wondered if he was trying to think of a way to tell Call that he appreciated the offer but he had someone better in mind. It was an honor, like Tamara had said. Aaron didn’t have to take Call. Call wasn’t anything special.
He was about to open his mouth and say all that when Aaron looked up. His eyes were suspiciously shiny, and for a second, Call thought that maybe Aaron hadn’t always been the popular guy who was good at everything. Maybe, back in the foster home, he’d been lonely and angry and sad, like Call.
“Okay,” Aaron said. “If you still want to. When it’s time, I mean.”
Before Call could say anything else, the door banged open and Tamara came in. Her face lit up when she saw Aaron. She ran over and gave him a hug that nearly knocked him off the couch.
“Did you see Master Rufus’s face?” she said. “He’s so proud of you! And the whole Assembly came out, even my parents. All of them cheering. For you! That was amazing.”
“It was pretty amazing,” Aaron said, finally starting to really smile.
She hit him with a pillow. “Don’t go getting a swelled head,” she told him.
Call met Aaron’s eyes over the pillow, and they grinned at each other. “No chance of that around here,” he said.
At that moment, from Call’s bedroom, the Chaos-ridden wolf began to bark.
TAMARA JUMPED UP and looked around the room like she was expecting something to leap out at her from the shadows.
Aaron’s expression turned wary, but he stayed seated. “Call,” he said. “Is that coming from your room?”
“Uh, maybe?” said Call, trying desperately to think of some explanation for the sound. “It’s my … ringtone?”
Tamara frowned. “Phones don’t work down here, Callum. And you already said you didn’t have one.”
Aaron’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you have a dog in there?”
Something crashed to the floor and the barking increased, along with a sound like nails scrabbling over stone.
“What’s going on?” Tamara demanded, walking to Call’s door and yanking it open. Then she screamed, throwing herself back against the wall. Oblivious, the wolf bounded past her out into the common room.
“Is that a —” Aaron stood up, his hand unconsciously going to the band at his wrist, the one with the black void stone in it. Call thought of the dark curling around the wolves the night before, taking them into nothingness.
He ran as quickly as he could to block the pup with his body, his arms held out wide. “I can explain,” he said desperately. “He’s not bad! He’s just like a regular dog!”
“That thing is a monster,” Tamara said, grabbing up one of the knives from the table. “Call, don’t you dare tell me you brought it here on purpose.”
“It was lost — and whimpering out in the cold,” Call said.
“Good!” Tamara screamed. “God, Call, you don’t think, you don’t ever think! Those things, they’re vicious — they kill people!”
“He’s not vicious,” Call said, sinking to his knees and seizing the pup by the ruff. “Calm down, boy,” he said with as much firmness as he could summon, bending so he could look into the wolf’s face. “These are our friends.”
The pup stopped barking, staring up at Call with kaleidoscopic eyes. Then it licked his face.
He turned to Tamara. “See? He’s not evil. He was just excited from being cooped up in my room.”
“Get out of my way.” Tamara brandished her knife.
“Tamara, wait,” Aaron said, coming closer. “Admit it — it is weird that it’s not attacking Call.”
“He’s just a baby,” Call said. “And scared.”
Tamara snorted.
Call picked up the wolf and turned it on its back, rocking it like a baby. The wolf squirmed. “See. Look at his big eyes.”
“You could get kicked out of school for having him,” Tamara said. “We could all get kicked out of school.”
“Not Aaron,” Call said, and Aaron winced.
“Call,” he said. “You can’t keep him. You can’t.”
Call held the wolf more tightly. “Well, I’m gonna.”
“You can’t,” said Tamara. “Even if we let him live, we have to take him outside the Magisterium and leave him. He can’t be in here.”
“Then you might as well kill him,” said Call. “Because he won’t survive out there. And I won’t let you take him.” He swallowed. “So if you want him out, tell on me. Go ahead.”
Aaron took a deep breath. “Okay, so what’s his name?”
“Havoc,” said Call immediately.
Tamara lowered her hand to her side, slowly. “Havoc?”
Call felt himself blush. “It’s from a play my father liked. ‘Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.’ He’s definitely, I don’t know, one of the dogs of war.”
Havoc took the opportunity to burp.
Tamara sighed, something in her face softening. She reached out her other hand, the one without a knife, to stroke the pup’s fur. “So … what does he eat?”
It turned out that Aaron had a bunch of bacon in the back of the cold storage, which he was willing to donate to feed Havoc. And Tamara, once she’d been drooled on and watched a Chaos-ridden wolf roll onto its back so she could pet its stomach, announced that they should all fill their pockets with anything vaguely meaty that they could get out of the Refectory, including eyeless fish.
“We need to talk about the wristband, though,” she said as she tossed a wadded-up ball of paper to Havoc, trying to get him to fetch. He took the paper under the table and began instead to tear off small pieces with his tiny teeth. “The one Call’s father sent him.”
Call nodded. In all the uproar about Aaron and Havoc, he’d managed to push the realization of what the onyx stone meant to the back of his mind.
“It couldn’t have belonged to Verity Torres, right?” he asked.
“She was fifteen when she died,” Tamara said, shaking her head. “But she left school the year before, so her wristband would be Bronze Year, not Silver.”
“But if it’s not hers —” Aaron said, swallowing, not able to say the words.
“Then it’s Constantine Madden’s,” said Tamara, with tight practicality. “It would make sense.”
Call flashed hot and cold all over. It was exactly what he’d been thinking, but now that Tamara had said it out loud, he
didn’t want to believe it. “Why would my father have the wristband of the Enemy of Death? How would he have it?”
“How old is your father?”
“He’s thirty-five,” Call said, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“Basically the same age as Constantine Madden. They would have been at school together. And the Enemy could have left his wristband behind when he escaped from the Magisterium.” Tamara pushed herself to her feet and started to pace. “He rejected everything about school. He wouldn’t have wanted it. Maybe your father picked it up, or found it somehow. Maybe they even — knew each other.”
“There’s no way. He would have told me,” Call replied, knowing even as he said it that it wasn’t true. Alastair never talked about the Magisterium except vaguely and to describe how sinister it was.
“Rufus said he knew the Enemy. And that bracelet was supposed to be a message to Rufus,” said Aaron. “It had to mean something to your father and to Rufus. It would make more sense if they both knew him.”
“But what was the message?” Call demanded.
“Well, it was about you,” Tamara said. “Bind his magic. Right?”
“So they’d send me home! So I’d be safe!”
“Maybe,” said Tamara. “Or maybe it was about keeping other people safe from you.”
Call’s heart gave a sick thump inside his chest.
“Tamara,” said Aaron. “You’d better explain what you mean.”
“I’m sorry, Call,” she said, and she really did look sorry. “But the Enemy invented the Chaos-ridden here, at the Magisterium. And I’ve never heard of a Chaos-ridden animal being friendly to anyone or anything but another Chaos-ridden.” Aaron started to protest, but Tamara held up her hand. “Remember what Celia said that first night on the bus? About how there’s a rumor that some of the Chaos-ridden have normal eyes? And if someone was born Chaos-ridden, then maybe that person wouldn’t be blank inside. Maybe they’d seem normal. Like Havoc.”