The Copper Gauntlet (Magisterium #2)(49)

“That’s our Makar,” said Jasper. “Chaos magic and grand theft auto.”

“I thought you said your dad ran off,” Call said to Aaron, running after him. “And that you didn’t know where he was.”

Aaron shrugged. “I guess no one likes to admit their dad is in jail.”

Right then an imprisoned dad didn’t seem like the worst thing to Call, but he knew better than to say it.

Call helped Aaron select the least broken car he recalled Alastair buying. A Morris Minor, its swooping exterior a deep emerald green that contrasted with its red leather seats. It was one of Alastair’s newer cars, manufactured in 1965, and unlike lots of the others, didn’t need a new engine.

“It’s still not fast,” Call warned. “Like, we probably need to stay under forty miles per hour, even on the highway. And it doesn’t have a GPS. He might have installed one eventually, but he didn’t get around to it.”

“What happens if we don’t stay under forty miles per hour?” Tamara asked.

Call shrugged. “Maybe it explodes? I don’t know.”

“Great,” Jasper said. “Can any of you numbskulls drive?”

“Not really,” Aaron said, crouching down under the seat, cutting wires with Call’s knife and wrapping them back together in a new combination.

“How can you know how to hot-wire a car but not drive one?” Jasper asked, heaving a massive sigh.

“That’s a good question,” Aaron muttered, sticking his head out from under the seat. He looked sweaty and a little shaky. “Maybe you should take it up with my dad. He didn’t get around to teaching me before he got locked up.”

“I’ve driven golf carts before,” said Tamara. “How different could it be?”

The engine sprang to life, revving under Aaron’s capable hands.

“I’ll drive,” said Call, whose father had shown him how — sort of. He was in enough trouble that driving an unregistered, uninsured vehicle without a license was hardly going to make much of a difference. Besides, he was the Enemy of Death, an outlaw, a rebel — breaking the law should be the mere tip of his iceberg of evil.

Havoc barked, as if agreeing with him. Havoc had taken the front passenger seat and didn’t seem inclined to let anyone else have it.

Aaron leaned against the hood, looking exhausted. He glanced in Call’s direction, but his eyes didn’t seem to focus. “It’s weird, huh? Everyone expecting me to be a hero and my father a convicted criminal.”

“Well, since we’re tracking down my dad because he stole some kind of magical artifact, I’m not exactly in a position to judge.” Call smiled, but Aaron didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s just — I don’t know. Constantine Madden was a bad Makar. Maybe I’ll turn out bad, too. Maybe it’s in my blood.”

Call shook his head, so surprised by the thought that at first he didn’t know how to respond. “Uh, no … I don’t think that’s you.”

“Come on, everyone, get in the car,” Tamara said. “Aaron, are you okay?”

Aaron nodded, climbing unsteadily into the backseat. Jasper and Tamara loaded the Morris’s trunk up with their remaining stuff. Thankfully, since they’d gotten out of bed to fight Automotones, their backpacks had remained safely in the barn.

Now all Call had to do was not crash. Alastair had let him drive before, steering one of the old cars when Alastair was towing it, or driving around the farm to park a new acquisition. But none of that was the same as driving all by himself. Call got in and adjusted the driver’s seat, shoving it forward so his shoes reached the pedals. Gas, he told himself. Brakes.

Then he adjusted the mirrors, because that’s what Alastair always did in a new car — he hoped it would give Aaron and Tamara and even Jasper confidence that Call knew what he was doing. But the familiar movements made him think of his dad, and a helpless panic settled over him.

He was never going to be the person his father loved. That person was dead.

“Let’s go,” Jasper said, climbing into the backseat. Tamara climbed in after him. Apparently they’d decided to let Havoc keep shotgun. “If you even know how to drive.”

“I know how,” Call said, letting out the clutch and sending the car rocketing down the road.

The Morris Minor clearly needed new shocks. Every bump in the road threw the kids into the air. It also guzzled gas so fast that Call knew they were going to have to make a lot of stops. He clung to the wheel, squinted at the road, and hoped for the best.

In the backseat, Aaron fell into a kind of fitful sleep, not seeming to mind the roughness of the ride. He thrashed around a little but didn’t wake.

“Is he okay?” Call called into the back.

Tamara touched the inside of her wrist to Aaron’s forehead. “I don’t know. He doesn’t have a fever, but he’s kind of clammy.”

“Maybe he expended too much magic,” Jasper said. “They say the cost of using void magic is high.”

It took them twenty minutes to find the edge of a small town. Call pumped gas into the Morris while Tamara and Jasper went into the station to pay.

“Do you think he noticed how weird you looked?” Call asked when they came back. They were, after all, wearing burned, muddy clothes. And they were kids, all barely thirteen. Definitely too young to be driving cars.