The Copper Gauntlet (Magisterium #2)(18)

He stopped in the middle of the drive and turned on her. “I’m keeping my distance, just like your dad wanted. Anastasia is taking me to the Magisterium. Summer’s over. We’re done.”

“Alex, don’t be like this,” she said, looking stunned by his anger. “We could talk about it —”

“We’ve talked enough.” He sounded as if he were choking on hurt. “You should have stuck up for me. You should have stuck up for us,” he told her, hoisting his bag up on his shoulder. “But you didn’t.” He spun away, stalking off down the driveway.

“Alex!” Kimiya shouted. But he didn’t respond. He reached the Mercedes and climbed inside. It sped away, sending up a cloud of dust.

“Kimiya!” Tamara started to run toward her sister, but her mother caught her by the wrist.

“Give her a moment,” she said. “She probably wants to be left alone.”

Mrs. Rajavi’s gaze was bright and hard. Call decided he had never been so uncomfortable in his life. He kept remembering Alex saying, “Kimiya, tell them,” and Kimiya not saying what he’d obviously wanted her to say. She had to be afraid of her parents. Call wasn’t sure he blamed her.

After a few minutes, a yellow school bus pulled through the gates of the Gables. Kimiya came back into the house, wiping her eyes against her sleeve and sniffing brokenly. She grabbed her luggage without looking at anyone.

When her mother reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, Kimiya shrugged it off.

Call knelt down to unzip his bag to make sure he had everything. He zipped it back up, but not before Mrs. Rajavi had caught sight of his knife, glinting atop his clothes.

“Is that Semiramis?” she asked.

Call nodded, zipping the bag up hastily. “It was my mother’s.”

“I know. I remember when she made it. She was a very skilled metal mage.” Tamara’s mother cocked her head to the side. “Semiramis is named for an Assyrian queen who turned into a dove when she died. Callum means dove, too. Doves stand for peace, which is what your mother wanted more than anything else.”

“I guess she must have,” Call said, feeling even more uncomfortable that her scrutiny had turned to him, and also a little sad that this woman had known more about his mother than he did.

Mrs. Rajavi smiled down at him, brushing a lock of his ink-black hair out of his eyes. “She must have loved you very much. And you must miss her.”

Call bit the inside of his cheek, remembering the words his mother had carved in the ice of the cave where she died.

She must have spent a long time picking out the name Callum. She’d probably made a list, argued back and forth over a half dozen favorites with Alastair before settling on Callum. Callum, which stood for doves and peace and the end of the war. And then Constantine Madden had killed her child and stolen that small body for himself. Call was the opposite of everything she’d ever hoped for.

Call realized he was biting down so hard that the inside of his mouth was bleeding.

“Thank you, Mrs. Rajavi,” he forced himself to say. Then, barely even seeing where he was going, he boarded the bus. Havoc followed, flopping down in the aisle so everyone else had to step over him.

There were a few kids already seated. Aaron was up near the front. He shoved over, leaving room for Call to flop down next to him and watch as Mr. and Mrs. Rajavi kissed Tamara good-bye.

Call thought about Tamara’s stories about her parents and about the third sister who’d become one of the Devoured. He remembered how stern and cold they’d seemed at the Trial. Were they pretending to be the perfect family for Aaron’s benefit, trying to act like the fantasy parents he’d never had?

Whatever impression they were trying to make, Call wasn’t sure they succeeded. Kimiya sat in the back and cried all the way to the Magisterium.



Call remembered the first time he’d ever arrived at the Magisterium and how alien and strange the caves had seemed, glowing with bioluminescent moss, underground rivers lapping at silty shores, and shimmering stalactites hanging from the ceilings like fangs.

Now it seemed like home. A laughing, chattering group of students poured in through the gates. People ran around hugging one another. Jasper came across the room to hug Tamara, even though, Call thought with annoyance, it had been barely two weeks since he’d seen her. Everyone crowded around Aaron, even the fourth and fifth years with their silver and gold wristbands, clapping him on the back and ruffling his hair.

Call felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Alex, who’d made it to the Magisterium before their slow bus. “Just remember,” he said, looking over at Aaron. “No matter how much of a fuss everyone makes over him, you’re still his best friend.”

“Right,” Call said. He wondered if Alex was upset over the breakup, but he didn’t look it.

Someone was running toward Call through the crowd. “Call! Call!” It was Celia, her mass of dirty-blond hair tamed into a ponytail. She looked delighted to see him, beaming all over her face. Alex moved away with an amused smile.

“Did you have a good summer?” Celia asked. “I heard you were at Tamara’s. Was it awesome? Were you there for the party? I heard the party was great. Did you see the mage tricks? Were there really frozen manticores?”

“They were ice manticores … not, like, actual manticores that had been frozen.” Call felt dizzy trying to keep up. “I mean, I think. Are manticores real?”