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فصل 25
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Chapter 25
CALL WOKE UP back in the Infirmary. The crystals on the walls were dim, so he guessed it was probably night. He felt sore all over. Plus, he was sure there was some bad news he was supposed to tell someone, although he couldn’t quite remember what. His legs hurt, and there were blankets tangled around him — he was in bed, and he’d hurt himself, but he couldn’t remember how. He’d been showing off during that exercise with the log and he’d fallen into the river, causing Jasper — Jasper of all people — to save him. And there was more — Tamara and Aaron and Havoc and a walk through the woods, but maybe that was a dream? It seemed like one now.
Turning on his side, he saw Master Rufus seated in a chair beside the bed, his face half in shadow. For a moment, Call wondered if Master Rufus was asleep, until he saw a smile curl across the mage’s mouth.
“Feeling a bit more human?” Master Rufus asked.
Call nodded and struggled to sit up. But as he cast off sleep, all the memories came flooding back, the ones of Master Joseph with his silver mask, Drew being devoured, Aaron hanging from the rafters with manacles cutting into his skin, and Call being told that he had Constantine Madden’s soul inside him.
He slumped back down on the cot.
I have to tell Master Rufus, he thought. I’m not a bad person. I’m going to tell him.
“Are you up to eating a little?” Master Rufus asked, reaching for a tray. “I brought you tea and soup.” “The tea, maybe.” Call took the earthenware mug and let it warm his hands. He sipped tentatively, the comforting taste of peppermint making him feel a little more awake.
Master Rufus set the tray back down and turned to study Call from beneath hooded eyes. Call gripped his mug as if it were a life preserver. “I’m sorry to ask, but I must. Tamara and Aaron told me what they knew of where Aaron was being held, but they both said that you were inside longer and that you’d been in a room they hadn’t. What can you tell me about what you saw?” “Did they tell you about Drew?” Call asked, shuddering at the memory.
Master Rufus nodded. “We researched what we could and discovered that Drew Wallace’s name and identity, in fact his entire past, consisted of some very convincing forgeries designed to get him into the Magisterium. We don’t know what his real name was or why the Enemy sent him here. If not for you and Tamara, the Enemy would have succeeded in dealing us a terrible blow — and as for Aaron, I shudder to think what they might have done to him.” “So we’re not in trouble?”
“For not informing me that Aaron had been kidnapped? For not telling anyone where you went?” Master Rufus’s voice deepened to a growl. “So long as you never, ever do anything like that again, I am prepared to overlook how foolishly you both behaved, in light of the fact that you succeeded. It seems silly to quibble over exactly how you and Tamara saved our Makar. What’s important is that you did.” “Thanks,” Call said, not sure whether he was being scolded or not.
“We sent some mages out to the abandoned bowling alley, but not much remained. Some empty cages and smashed equipment. There was a large room that seemed to be a laboratory. Were you in there?” Call nodded, swallowing. This was the moment. He opened his mouth to say the words: Master Joseph was there and he told me I am the Enemy of Death.
The words wouldn’t come. It was as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, and everything in his body was willing him to throw himself over, but his mind wouldn’t let him. If he repeated what Joseph had said, Master Rufus would hate him. They’d all hate him.
And for what? Even if he had been Constantine Madden once, it wasn’t like he remembered any of it. He was still Callum, wasn’t he? Still the same person. He hadn’t become evil. He didn’t wish harm to the Magisterium. And what was a soul, anyway? It didn’t tell you what to do. He could make his own decisions.
“Yeah, there was a lab with a lot of bubbling stuff and elementals in the niches that lit the whole place. But no one was there.” Call swallowed, steeling himself to the lie. His heart sped. “The room was empty.” “Is there anything else?” Master Rufus said, studying Call intently. “Any detail you think might help us? Anything, no matter how small?” “There were Chaos-ridden,” Call said. “A lot of them. And a chaos elemental. It chased me into the lab, but that’s when Aaron and Tamara broke through the roof, so —” “Yes, Tamara and Aaron have already told me of their impressive stunt with the signpost.” Master Rufus smiled, but Call could tell he was hiding disappointment. “Thank you, Call. You did very well.” Call nodded. He had never felt so terrible.
“I remember that when you first came to the Magisterium, you asked me several times if you could talk to Alastair,” Master Rufus said. “I never formally granted your request.” He said it with an emphasis that made Call blush. He wondered if finally, now, of all times, he was going to get in trouble for sneaking into Rufus’s office. “But I’m granting it now.” He plucked a glass globe off the nightstand and held it out to Call. A small tornado was already spinning inside.
“I believe you know how to use this.” He rose to his feet and walked to the far end of the Infirmary, his hands clasped behind his back. It took a moment for Call to realize what he was doing: giving Call privacy.
Call held the clear glass globe in his hand and studied it. It was as if a huge soap bubble had hardened in midair, leaving it solid and clear. He concentrated on thinking about his dad — blocking out thoughts of Master Joseph and Constantine Madden, and just thinking of his father, of the smell of pancakes and pipe tobacco, of his father’s hand on his shoulder when he did something right, of his father painstakingly explaining geometry, Call’s least favorite subject.
The tornado began to condense and shaped itself into his dad, who was standing in oil-stained jeans and a flannel shirt, his glasses pushed up on his head, a wrench in one hand. He must be in his garage, working on one of his old cars, Call thought. His father looked up as if someone had said his name.
“Call?” he inquired.
“Dad,” Call said. “It’s me.”
His father put the wrench down, which made it vanish out of the image. He turned around, as if he were trying to see Call, though it seemed clear he couldn’t. “Master Rufus told me what happened. I was so worried. You were in the Infirmary —” “I still am,” Call said, and then added quickly, “but I’m fine. I got a little banged up, but I’m fine.” His voice came out weak, even to his own ears. “You shouldn’t worry.” “I can’t help it,” his dad said gruffly. “I am still your father, even if you are away at school.” He looked around and then back at Call, as if he could see him. “Master Rufus says you saved the Makar. That’s pretty incredible. You did what a whole army couldn’t do for Verity Torres.” “Aaron’s my friend. I guess we saved him, but it was because of that, not because he’s the Makar. And it’s not like we knew what we were going up against.” “I’m glad you have friends there, Call.” His dad’s eyes were serious. “It can be hard — to be friends with someone so powerful.” Call thought of the wristband in the letter from his father, of the thousand unanswered questions he had. You were friends with Constantine Madden? he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t. Not now, and not with Rufus within earshot.
“Rufus also tells me that one of the other Magisterium students was there,” his father continued. “Someone working for the Enemy.” “Drew — yeah.” Call shook his head. “We didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault. Sometimes, people don’t show their true faces.” His father sighed. “So this student — Drew — was there, but the Enemy wasn’t?” There is no Enemy. You’ve been fighting a phantom all these years. An illusion Master Joseph wanted you to see. But I can’t tell you that, because if the Enemy isn’t Constantine Madden, then who is he?
“I don’t think we’d have gotten away if he was,” Call said. “I guess we were lucky.” “And this Drew — he didn’t say anything to you?”
“Like what?”
“Anything about — about you,” his father said cautiously. “It’s just strange, that the Enemy would leave a captured Makar protected only by a schoolboy.” “There were a lot of Chaos-ridden, too,” said Call. “But no, nobody said anything to me. It was just Drew and the Chaos-ridden, and they don’t talk much.” “No.” His father almost twitched a smile. “They don’t, do they?” He sighed again. “I miss you around here, Callum.” “I miss you, too.” Call felt his throat narrow.
“I’ll see you when school’s out,” his dad said.
Call nodded, not trusting his voice, and passed a hand over the surface of the globe. The image of his father vanished. He sat and stared at the device. Now that there was nothing in it, he could see a little of his reflection in the glass. Same black hair, same gray eyes, same slightly pointed nose and chin. Everything familiar. He didn’t look like Constantine Madden. He looked like Callum Hunt.
“I’ll take that,” Rufus said, and plucked the globe from his hand. He was smiling. “You should probably stay here for a day or so, to rest your injuries and heal completely. In the meantime, there are two people who’ve been waiting very patiently to see you.” Master Rufus strode over to the Infirmary door and threw it open.
Tamara and Aaron rushed in.
image
Being in the Infirmary when you’d gotten injured being awesome was totally different from being in the Infirmary for doing something dumb. Classmates kept coming to visit him. Everyone wanted to hear the story over and over again, everyone wanted to hear how scary the Chaos-ridden were and how Call had fought a chaos elemental. Everyone wanted to hear about the sign crashing through the roof and laugh at the part where Call passed out.
Gwenda and Celia brought him candy bars from home. Rafe brought a pack of cards and they played Go Fish on top of his blankets. Call had never realized how many people in the Magisterium knew who he was. Even some of the older students came by, like Tamara’s sister, Kimiya, who was super tall and so serious that she scared Call when she told him how glad she was that Tamara had him for a friend, and Alex, who produced a bag of Call’s favorite sour gummies and grinningly warned him about how all this hero stuff was making the rest of the school look bad.
Even Jasper visited him, which was extremely awkward. He shuffled in, looking nervous as he tugged on the raggedy cashmere scarf he was wearing over his uniform. “I brought you a sandwich from the Gallery,” he said, handing it over to Call. “It’s lichen, of course, but it tastes like tuna. I hate tuna.” “Thanks,” Call said, turning the sandwich over. It was oddly warm, which made him think it had probably been in Jasper’s pocket.
“I just wanted to tell you,” Jasper said, “that everyone’s talking about what you did, rescuing Aaron, and I wanted you to know, that I also thought that it was a good thing. What you did. And that it’s okay. That you got my place with Master Rufus. Because maybe you deserve it. So I’m not mad at you. Anymore.” “Way to make it all about you, Jasper,” said Call, who had to admit he was enjoying the moment.
“Right,” Jasper said, yanking so furiously on his scarf that a piece of it almost came off. “Good talk. Enjoy the sandwich.” He staggered out, and Call watched him go with amusement. He realized he was glad it seemed that Jasper didn’t hate him anymore, although he did throw out the sandwich, just to be safe.
Tamara and Aaron visited as much as they were allowed, throwing themselves on Call’s bed like it was a trampoline, eager to fill him in on everything that was going on while he was laid up. Aaron explained how he’d vouched for Havoc with the Masters, claiming that as the Makar, he needed to study a Chaos-ridden creature. They hadn’t liked it, but they’d allowed it, and Havoc was going to be a permanent fixture in their rooms from now on. Tamara said that the way they let Aaron get away with stuff was going to go to his head and make him even more annoying than Call. They talked and joked so loudly that Master Amaranth released Call early just to get some peace and quiet. Which was probably a good idea, since Call was getting used to the idea of lying around all day and having people bring him things. Another week and he might have never left.
Five days after coming back from the Enemy’s compound, Call returned to his studies. He got into the boat with Aaron and Tamara a little stiffly; his injured leg was almost healed, but it was still hard to move around. Upon their arrival in front of their classroom, Master Rufus was waiting.
“Today, we’re going to do something a little different,” he said, gesturing down the hall. “We’re going to visit the Hall of Graduates.” “We’ve been there before,” Tamara said, before Call could kick her. If Master Rufus wanted to take them on a field trip instead of teaching them boring exercises, then better to go along with it. Also, Master Rufus didn’t know they’d been in the Hall of Graduates, since they’d been busy being lost and messing up an assignment at the time.
“Oh, is that so?” Master Rufus said, beginning to walk. “And what did you see there?” “The handprints of people who’ve gone to the Magisterium before,” Aaron said, following along. “Some of their relatives. Call’s mother.” They walked through a door that Master Rufus opened with his wristband, and down a spiral staircase made of white stone. “Anything else?” “The First Gate,” Tamara told him, looking around in confusion. They hadn’t gone this way before. “But it wasn’t on.” “Ah.” Master Rufus passed his wristband in front of the solid wall and watched as it shimmered and disappeared, revealing another room beyond it. Rufus was smiling at their surprise. “Yes, there are some routes through the school you don’t know yet.” They stepped into a room that Call remembered passing through when he’d thought they were lost, with long stalactites and steaming mud heating the air. He spun around, wondering if he’d be able to retrace his way to the door that Master Rufus just showed them, but even if he could, he wasn’t sure his wristband would open it.
They ducked through another doorway and found themselves inside the Hall of Graduates. One of the archways seemed to be roiling with some substance, something membranous and alive. The carved words Prima Materia glowed with an odd light, as though illuminated from within the letters’ grooves.
“Uh,” Call said. “What’s that?”
The small grin on Master Rufus’s face transformed into a wide smile. “You all see it? Good. I thought so. That means you’re ready to pass through the First Gate, the Gate of Control. After you pass through it, you will be considered a mage in your own right, and I will give you the metal for your wristband that formally confers upon you the status of Copper Year students. How far you go in your studies after this point will be up to you, but I believe that all three of you are some of the best apprentices I have ever had the pleasure to teach. I hope you continue your studies.” Call looked at Tamara and Aaron. They were grinning at each other and at him. Then Aaron put up a tentative hand.
“But I thought — I mean this is great, but aren’t we supposed to pass through the gate at the end of the year? When we graduate?” Master Rufus raised both his bushy eyebrows. “You are apprentices. That means you learn what you’re ready to learn and you pass through the gates when you’re ready, not after and certainly not before. If you can see the gate, then you’re ready. Tamara Rajavi, you first.” She stepped forward, shoulders back, and walked up to the gate with an awed expression on her face, like she couldn’t quite believe it was happening. Reaching out, she touched the swirling center and made a sharp sound, pulling back her fingers in amazement. She glanced over at Call and Aaron, and then, still grinning, stepped through, disappearing from view.
“Now you, Aaron Stewart.”
“Okay,” Aaron said, nodding and looking a little nervous. He wiped his palms against his gray uniform pants, as though they’d become sweaty. Stepping up to the gate, he threw up his arms and hurled himself into whatever was beyond it, like a football player making a touchdown.
Master Rufus shook his head in amusement, but didn’t otherwise comment on Aaron’s gate-crossing technique. “Callum Hunt, go ahead,” he said.
Call swallowed and moved across the room toward the gate. He remembered what Master Rufus had said, back when he’d told Call why he took him on. Until a mage passes through the First Gate, his or her magic can be bound by one of the Masters. You would be unable to access the elements, unable to use your power.
If his magic were bound, then Callum couldn’t become the Enemy of Death. Couldn’t even become like him.
That was what his father had asked Master Rufus to do, sending along Constantine Madden’s wristband as a warning. Standing there in front of the gate, Call finally admitted it to himself: Tamara had been right when she’d said his father’s warning hadn’t been about keeping Call safe. It had been about keeping other people safe from him.
This was Call’s last chance — his final chance. If he walked through the Gate of Control, his magic could no longer be bound. There would no longer be any easy way to make the world safe from him. To make sure he could never turn on Aaron. To make sure he would never become Constantine Madden.
He thought about going back to regular school, where he didn’t have any friends, of spending weekends under the grim eye of his father. He thought of never seeing Aaron and Tamara again and of all the adventures they’d have without him. He thought about Havoc in his bedroom back home and how miserable the wolf would be. He thought of Celia and Gwenda and Rafe and even Master Rufus, thought of the Refectory and the Gallery and all the tunnels he’d never get to explore.
Maybe if he told, things wouldn’t go like Master Joseph said. Maybe they wouldn’t bind his magic. Maybe they’d help him. Maybe they’d even tell him that the whole soul thing was impossible — that he was only Callum Hunt and there was nothing to be afraid of, because he wasn’t going to become a monster in a silver mask.
But maybe wasn’t good enough.
Stepping forward, taking a deep breath and ducking his head, Call walked through the Gate of Control. Magic washed over him, pure and powerful.
He could hear Tamara and Aaron on the other side, laughing.
And despite himself, despite the terrible thing he was doing, despite all of it, Call began to grin.
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