The Bronze Key (Magisterium #3)(32)
For a moment, they all sat in silence. Call was pretty sure they were marveling over her security, but he thought they might also be marveling at her deviousness, because those were some pretty inventive locks.
“Now, are we finished? There’s something evil at work here in the Magisterium,” said Anastasia, head held high. “We all know it. It’s why I came. I suggest we find the source of it, rather than throw baseless accusations. Before it’s too late.”
Master North turned to Call, Aaron, and Tamara. “We want you to understand that nothing like this has ever happened at the Magisterium before and we’re going to make sure it never happens again. You three are excused. We will continue on from here without you, but do not doubt that we will discover what happened.”
It was clear that the mages might go on arguing all night, even though they had no actual leads on finding the spy. Call thought, suddenly, of Jericho Madden and how his death had been an accident — an experiment gone wrong. Was there an inquest after that? A lot of people uselessly pointing fingers at one another?
“I still believe that the safest thing would be to teach them,” Anastasia said, the edge in her voice unmistakable. “You may believe me derelict in my duties, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t neglected yours as well.”
“I do teach them,” Master Rufus said, turning his sternest look on her. “I teach them what they need to know.”
“Ah,” she said, and it seemed clear that she was no longer upset because she was sure she had the upper hand. “So Aaron and Callum know that they have the power to remove a living soul from its body? They understand how to do it? What a relief, because I thought you were so terrified of their abilities that you were planning on keeping them in the dark, even if it got them killed.”
“I have excused our students,” Master North said with unusual heat. “Tarquin, let them go. Defy me again and I will bar you from the school, no matter the Assembly’s orders.”
Outside the meeting room, Call turned to Aaron and Tamara. Tamara raised her eyebrows in a gesture that seemed to capture how completely weird that meeting had been. Aaron shook his head. After walking a short way, they saw a familiar path, which was good, since it turned out the stones were only for a one-way journey and they would lead back to the meeting again and again.
Finally, Aaron spoke. “Good thing we got out of there before Jasper’s date. I was getting worried.”
“You don’t really think that Celia’s the one, do you?” Call asked. “I mean, not really, right?”
“I know you don’t want it to be her,” Aaron said, walking past moss that fluoresced blue when their breath touched it. “I know you think she’s your friend, but we’ve got to be careful. Celia did something odd around the time of both attacks. It could be coincidence. Or maybe not.”
“So how is the date going to help?” Tamara asked. “Even if it is Celia, Jasper’s not a target.”
“Jasper promised me that he’d say stuff about Call. If she takes the bait, then we’ll know.”
Tamara rolled her eyes. She probably thought that Call wouldn’t notice in the dim light of the moss, but he did.
They arrived breathless at the Gallery, which was lit up for the night with spangled streamers of moss, glimmering blue and green. Students splashed in deep pools of water that glowed turquoise. Call remembered the first time he’d been there: Celia had invited him during their Iron Year, and it had been one of the first things about the Magisterium that he’d really liked. It had made him catch his breath and realize he was looking at stuff no ordinary person would ever see.
Now he looked around the place with more familiarity. He certainly recognized people — there was Alex, lounging in a corner with Tamara’s sister and another Gold Year girl. Gwenda and Rafe were jumping out of one of the pools of water, splashing each other. Kai was over by the glass tubes that dispensed fizzing candy, digging through a mountain of sweets with one hand and holding up a book with another.
“Look at me!” someone yelled. For a second Call thought he saw a skinny, brown-haired figure in a worn T-shirt, beckoning toward him. Someone whose eyes glowed black in a face that was too pale.
Drew.
Call blinked, and the vision resolved itself into Rafe, cannonballing into a pool. Water went everywhere. People clapped and cheered; Aaron leaned over and whispered to Call and Tamara, “There they are.”
He pointed to where Jasper and Celia sat on a big overstuffed purple couch. Celia looked pretty in a pink dress, her hair tied up in a ponytail. Jasper looked like Jasper.
A stone bowl floated between them. Celia dipped her fingers in, and when she brought them out, they shone. She blew on them, and multicolored bubbles spiraled up toward the ceiling. She giggled.
“Ugh,” said Call. “Celia’s staring at Jasper with googly eyes. This is so weird. She doesn’t even like Jasper. Or at least if she does, she’s never mentioned it before.”
“She’s leading him into her clutches,” said Aaron.
“You’re both idiots,” said Tamara, sounding resigned. “Come this way.”
They crept around the big bar full of snacks and candy, keeping to the wall. It was dark; Call followed the light of Tamara’s glinting gold barrettes. When they emerged on the other side, they were behind the purple couch, much closer to Celia and Jasper. It was Jasper’s turn with the bowl, apparently. He gave Celia a meaningful look, then blew on his fingers. Bubbles in the shape of hearts rose into the air.