The Bronze Key (Magisterium #3)(56)

Call, who fell asleep with his arms around a Chaos-ridden wolf a lot of the time, snickered. Then he dug into the food. He and Aaron polished it off in very little time. By then, he was feeling drowsy, too, and light-headed, and as though his skin wasn’t quite his own. He remembered Aaron being sick and passing out after large expenditures of chaos magic, but he’d never felt this way before. He lurched up and went to lie down.

When he woke, tangled in his sheets, his uniform and boots still on, he couldn’t even remember hitting the bed. Outside the door were voices. The summons must have come.

Call pushed himself to his feet and went out into the common room.

Alex was sitting on their couch, talking to Tamara. Both of them were dressed in black, like ninjas. Alex’s brown hair was half-concealed under a dark cap, and Tamara was wearing an oversize black sweater and leggings. Her hair was in glossy braids tied with black bows. Alex was smiling at her in a new way, a way that Call had only previously seen him smile at Kimiya.

Call didn’t like it.

“My stepmother sent me to help,” Alex said, turning to Call. “Are you sure you want to do this? This whole — midnight caper? This is serious stuff.”

“I didn’t actually know you were going to be involved,” Call said, and Alex blinked a little, as if surprised by Call’s tone. Tamara gave Call a reproachful look.

“He’s Anastasia’s stepson,” she pointed out. “And he’s an air mage. We could use him.”

Aaron came into the room, also dressed in black, though he hadn’t covered his bright hair. He nodded at Call. “We let you sleep as long as we could.”

“That was some pretty serious chaos magic you laid down at the test today,” Alex said. “I can see I’m going to have a hard time keeping up with you two.”

Call and Aaron exchanged a look. It was a look that said that neither of them were exactly looking forward to being called on to use their Makar powers again. Call felt completely tapped out.

“You’d better go change into something dark,” Alex added. “We don’t want to be seen by the highway.”

Call went back to his room and changed into black jeans and the darkest sweater he could find, which was navy. Almost as an afterthought, he took Miri from her place on his nightstand and slid her through the belt of his jeans. Then he woke up Havoc, who was asleep on the bed with his tongue lolling on the comforter.

“Come on, boy,” Call said. “Time for an adventure.”

When he went back into the living room, Havoc bounding at his heels, the others were waiting for him. Alex opened the door to leave. With a look back at Call, Tamara followed.

Call stepped out into the corridor and glanced around in surprise. Everything was ordinary — the rock walls of the hall, the path stretching away on either side — but there was a strange shimmer in the air, as if it were vibrating around them.

“Camouflage,” Alex said in a low voice. He had his right hand up, his fingers making a series of complicated movements, as if he were playing the piano. “Changing the molecular makeup of the surrounding air makes it harder for people to see us as we go by.”

Call looked at Tamara with a raised eyebrow, as if for confirmation. She shrugged, but was clearly impressed. Which was also annoying — if anyone had done any impressive magic that day, it was definitely Call.

Though he probably shouldn’t think about it that way.

He couldn’t help wondering if Aaron was thinking the same thing, though, since a second later a coal of fire bloomed from Aaron’s palm, illuminating their way. “Let’s go,” he said. “Out through the Mission Gate?”

Alex nodded. They set off, Aaron’s light throwing their shadows against the wall — tall Alex, then Aaron, then Call and Tamara, and, behind them, the trotting shadow of Havoc.

They encountered only a few people on their way to the gate, and just as Alex had said, no one seemed able to see them or their shadows. Celia was standing with Rafe, talking about something in low tones. When they passed her, she frowned but didn’t otherwise react. Master North even walked by, his face buried in a stack of papers, and didn’t glance up once.

Call wondered when Master Rufus was going to teach them a trick as awesome as this and realized, gloomily, that the answer was probably never. Master Rufus was not a person who liked to stack the deck against his ability to find his own apprentices.

They exited through the Mission Gate. Havoc, used to being taken this way to be walked, started toward his regular trees and patch of weeds. Alex was gesturing in the other direction.

“This way,” Call called to his wolf, as loudly as he dared. “Come on, boy.”

“Where are we going?” Aaron asked.

“Alma’s waiting for us,” Alex said, leading them toward the dirt road the bus took up the hill to the Magisterium at the beginning of every year. It was a steep decline, but a fast one — much faster than sneaking through the woods, the way they had in their Copper year, or stumbling through them in a panic, the way Call and Tamara had after Aaron had been kidnapped in their Iron Year.

Roads are great, Call thought meditatively, vowing to take them more. Less being kidnapped by elementals. More roads.

They turned a corner and saw a van idling near a large group of rocks. Alma leaned out the window. “I didn’t think you kids would have the guts to turn up,” she said gruffly. “Get in.”