The Bronze Key (Magisterium #3)(65)

But Alex had access. He was Master Rufus’s assistant. He could have gotten Call’s canteen and punched a hole in it. He would have had access to whatever Rufus did to make their wristbands open their common room door; he could have used that to hide Skelmis in Call’s bedroom. Could Anastasia have let him down into the chamber with the elementals when she went there? Call supposed she might have — after all, he was her stepson. Would she have noticed if he slipped away for a moment? And then, last year — he was the one who’d told Call that the mages had decided to kill Alastair, even though Master Rufus had told Call that had never been true.

But why would Alex do any of that? Call glanced at his impassive face as they moved through the silvery dark. They were almost at the village of the Order. Call could see the big clearing up ahead, the shadows of cottages.

He remembered Jennifer’s mouth moving and her last words: Kimiya, Kimiya, stay away from him. But who had Kimiya been near at the party? Who would she need to be warned away from?

Just her friends. And her boyfriend.

Alex. It didn’t make any sense. And yet. Something was still bothering him, had been bothering him since they’d first seen Alex in front of their door. Out of breath, looking panicked, with blood on his blue shirt.

Blue shirt. Cogs whirled in Call’s mind. The image of a ripped photograph, Drew standing with Master Joseph and someone else, someone who was wearing a blue shirt with distinctive black stripes down the shoulder seams.

“I’m cold,” Call said, suddenly. “Alex, can I borrow your hoodie?”

Alex looked puzzled. Aaron looked puzzled. Call wasn’t usually one for borrowing other people’s clothes. But Alex shrugged the hoodie off anyway, and handed it to Call.

Call stopped dead in his tracks. Alex’s blue shirt was striped with two black lines down the shoulders.

The other two boys stopped and looked back at him. Aaron’s expression was worried.

Alex’s wasn’t.

“Alex,” Call said, in as calm a voice as he could manage, “how did you know Drew?”

Alex slowly raised his head. “What do you care?” he said. “You killed him.”

Aaron stopped dead in his tracks. The wind howled through the branches of the trees all around them. “Why would you say that?” He looked from Call to Alex. “What’s going on?”

“Alex is the one,” Call said. He felt numb inside. “He’s the spy.”

Alex took a step toward Call. Aaron flung a hand out, as if to stop Alex from coming any closer.

“Get away from Call,” he warned. “I’m a Makar, Alex. I could really hurt you.”

But the older boy ignored him. “Drew was like my brother,” Alex said. “Master Joseph recruited me in my Copper Year. He needed a talented air mage. And there was no one more talented than I was. Until you two.”

Call sucked in his breath.

“My father was old,” Alex said. “Barely even noticed when I got into the Magisterium. Joseph became my father. He taught me and Drew together. Gave us extra lessons. That’s why I was good enough to become Rufus’s assistant. And boy, did Joseph laugh when I told him that.” A grin split Alex’s handsome face. “Anastasia was harder to trick. But she fell for it, too, the good-stepson act. She was too busy faking that she cared about my father to pay attention to me.” His eyes burned. “Meanwhile, Joseph told me everything. He told me the truth about the Enemy of Death. He told me about you.”

“So you’ve known who I was this whole time?” asked Call.

Alex barely seemed to hear him. “Do you know how ungrateful you are?” he said. “Joseph cares about you more than he cares about anything else. Both of you have power, but you, Call, you’re special. Do you know what it means to be special? Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away?”

“If it means being like you,” Call said, “then I don’t want it.”

Alex’s face twisted. Aaron’s hand flashed protectively, fire already growing in his palm, but at that moment shadows exploded out of the woods on either side of them. Adults in black clothing, with black masks hiding their faces. Strong hands and arms seized Call and Aaron.

“March them to the village,” Alex said.

Call was shoved forward, stumbling. He and Aaron were pushed roughly down the path. He had no idea who was holding him — not a Chaos-ridden; Alex couldn’t control one.

Or could he? The greatest Makar of your generation.

No, if Alex was a chaos user, he would have bragged about it, Call was sure. It turned out that one didn’t have to have anything to do with chaos to have Evil Overlord aspirations.





CALL TRIED TO twist out of the grip of the people who held him, but he couldn’t. They were too strong. He tried to bring fire to his hands, but as soon as it sparked, someone cuffed him on the back of the head and his concentration fled, extinguishing the flame.

A moment later, he was thrown down in the grass in the center of the abandoned Order of Disorder village, the empty buildings eerie in the moonlight. There were packs and food and a small fire going.

Alex wasn’t working alone. The masked figures, whoever they were, must have been waiting here to be summoned by him.

Call rolled to his side, looking for Aaron. Aaron was down in the grass, too. A bulky masked figure had a boot on his back. Call tried to stand but was shoved firmly back down to the ground.