The Bronze Key (Magisterium #3)(48)
“This isn’t your fault, you know,” Tamara said to Call as Havoc nosed a patch of weeds. The wolf knew that as soon as he chose a tree or whatever and did his business, they were going to take him back inside, so he was lingering as much as possible.
“I know that.” Call sighed. “I didn’t ask to be born — or reborn, or whatever.”
She snorted. The night was clear, the stars bright, and the air less chilly than it should have been that time of year. Tamara wasn’t even wearing a jacket over her uniform. “That’s not what I meant.”
With a deep breath, he went on. “I just feel like something happened way back when, with Constantine and Master Joseph and even Master Rufus and Alastair. They discovered stuff, back at the Magisterium. Important stuff. I mean, the Order of Disorder knows how to talk to the dead? That’s huge. And yet no one else seems to know that.”
“No one wants to know it,” Tamara said. “No, scratch that. I bet it’s the Assembly that doesn’t want people to know.”
Call blinked at her. “What about your parents? They’re on the Assembly.”
“They didn’t even want me to know about Ravan.” Tamara kicked a clod of dirt with the toe of her boot. “You’re right. Anastasia and the Order of Disorder all knew Constantine when he was at school, which means they know more about what happened than we do. Lots more.”
“And they know more about how chaos magic really works.” Call called to Havoc, urging him back inside. “And maybe they know something about the spy, too.”
“The greatest Makar of our generation,” Tamara said thoughtfully. “So someone else, here at school, is using chaos magic. They just haven’t gotten caught doing it yet.”
“Not by us,” Call said. “But they will.”
The wind picked up, blowing the trees hard enough to send a cascade of leaves down on them. It tossed Tamara’s unbound hair and carried away their voices when they called to each other. After a moment of frustration, Call pointed toward the Magisterium and they bent their heads and started back toward the mission gate, Havoc racing behind them.
As they went inside, into the darkened halls and the narrow cavern passageways, Call couldn’t help but be conscious of the heavy weight descending on his shoulders the deeper into the caves he went: the weight of, once more, not knowing whom he could trust.
On Monday, Master Rufus announced that there would be a test that Friday, one in which the entire Bronze Year would be competing with one another. Master Rufus even had purple armbands for Tamara, Aaron, and Call, proclaiming them a three-person team.
Callum groaned. He’d never liked the tests, not since they’d had to fight wyverns in his Iron Year. After running away during Copper Year and coming back with the head of the Enemy of Death, he’d been able to opt out of a few more, but now it seemed like his test-avoiding luck had run out.
Aaron was too sunk in the gloom of being disliked, or at least suspected, by everyone in school to do more than solemnly accept his armband. Call wanted to tell Aaron that he’d never been popular and he was perfectly fine, but he worried that maybe Aaron wouldn’t find his words all that reassuring. Still, gloomy Aaron was even less likely to argue than regular Aaron.
“Can you tell us anything about the test?” Tamara asked. “Anything at all?”
Master Rufus shook his head. “Most certainly not. You three are considered — for many reasons — to be an extraordinary group. If you don’t acquit yourselves well, you will be letting many people down, myself included. I expect you to do your best. And I expect that you will be able to do so without any hints.”
Tamara shrugged and grinned. “You can’t blame me for trying.”
Master Rufus gave her a look that said he most certainly could, but he didn’t belabor the point. Instead, he launched into a lecture about what to do when one seems to have an abundance of magic and a spell starts getting bigger than was intended. The short answer: It was that person’s responsibility to control it.
Everything they learned was about responsibility and control these days. And none of it helped at all.
On the way back to their new rooms, they saw Gwenda lurking in the hallway. It was chilly in the corridors, and she was wearing a heavy sweater and jeans, as well as an irritated expression on her face. She brightened up when they approached, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to warm herself.
“I hoped I’d catch you,” she said.
“What’s up?” Tamara asked. Aaron hung back, looking worried that she’d snap at him or glare. But she only looked hopeful.
“I need to talk to you guys,” she said. “Can we go to your new room?”
The three of them glanced at one another. Call could see his own spark of excitement mirrored in the eyes of his friends. Maybe Gwenda knew something about the spy, had seen something or suspected someone?
They ushered her into their common room, and Call directed Havoc to guard the door just in case anyone tried to break in. Havoc took up his post with a vigilant air.
“Look,” Gwenda said, once the three of them had settled onto the couch and were looking at her expectantly, “the thing is …”
“Go ahead, Gwenda,” said Tamara. “You can tell us anything.”
“I want to move in with you!” Gwenda burst out, a flush rising on her dark brown skin. “I know apprentices in the same group are supposed to share rooms, but I looked it up and you can change if you want to. I heard you had an extra room free, and the thing is, I can’t stand it anymore!”