The Copper Gauntlet (Magisterium #2)(67)

“Automotones?” Alastair looked shocked by that pronouncement. “But he’s trapped in the deepest pits of the Magisterium.”

“He was,” Call said. “The Magisterium sent him after us.”

Alastair inhaled in a way that he did only when he was angry or surprised or both. He took a few steps away from the rest of the group, obviously trying to clear his head. Call hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. He was exhausted.

Master Joseph had gotten away — and worse, he’d gotten away with the Alkahest, the very device they’d come to keep out of their hands. The massed army of Chaos-ridden had vanished. Master Joseph must have commanded them to take him back to shore. He’d probably taken all the rowboats, too, just to be a jerk.

Suddenly, Call remembered that Havoc had been with the Chaos-ridden, that Havoc was Chaos-ridden, and so, if Master Joseph could command the rest of them, he could probably command the wolf, too.

“Havoc!” he shouted, panic reigniting in his chest. “Havoc!”

How could he have let his wolf stay outside the tomb? He’d left Havoc behind like Havoc was just a dog, when Havoc was way more than that.

Call rushed along the path back toward the beach, leg aching, nearly in tears, calling for his wolf. It was one more thing he wasn’t ready for, one more thing he couldn’t bear.

“Call!” his father shouted. Call turned and saw Alastair looking weary, walking up the path with Havoc at his heels. Call stared. His dad’s unburned hand was buried in the wolf’s fur, and there was ash on the wolf’s pelt, but he didn’t look otherwise harmed. “He’s okay. You rushed off before we could tell you, but he tried to get back into the tomb. We had to stop him, but it wasn’t easy.”

“Your father held him back,” Aaron said.

Havoc took a few steps toward Call. Call held his arms out and Havoc bounded into them, licking his face.

“That’s a way more touching reunion than you had with me,” Tamara said. She was going over Aaron’s cuts and scratches, using earth magic to heal the worst of them. She’d already fixed Jasper’s bloody lip.

Call patted Havoc on the head. “I should have known Master Joseph wasn’t going to kidnap you. He only likes dead things and weird things.”

“We’re all weird,” Tamara pointed out. She examined Aaron. He’d used what must have been immense amounts of chaos magic without a counterweight and, although he was still standing, he looked on the verge of collapse. “Well, you’re not actively bleeding anymore, but I don’t know enough healing magic to check to see if you have anything sprained, or broken, or —”

“Is anyone going to talk about the fact that Call’s a Makar?” Jasper said, cutting into the discussion.

Everyone looked horrified. “Jasper!” said Tamara.

“Oh, sorry,” Jasper said. “I didn’t realize we were pretending it didn’t happen.” He turned to Call. “Did you know you were a Makar before? Oh, wait, never mind, I forgot I can’t trust anything you say.”

“He didn’t know,” said Alastair. “Chaos magic was locked into Constantine’s body and when the body was destroyed, the chaos magic was released. It must have been attracted to Call’s soul. When Constantine became a Makar, it was because there was a danger to his brother. Jericho was attacked by a rogue elemental in the caverns, and Constantine — made it disappear.”

Tamara looked at him narrowly. “How do you know that?” she said.

“Because I was in the same apprentice group that he was,” said Alastair. “There were five of us. Sarah, Declan, Jericho, Constantine, and me. Rufus was our Master.”

Aaron, Tamara, and Jasper all goggled at him. “They say Constantine got perfect scores on the Trials,” said Jasper. “Perfect scores.”

“We were the best in our year,” said Alastair. He sounded tired and distant, like he was talking about something that had happened a million years ago.

“You were friends with Constantine? Good friends?” Aaron said. Despite being messy and bloody and dirty, he looked ready to defend himself, to defend them all.

“He and Jericho and Sarah were my best friends,” said Alastair. “You know how apprentice groups are.”

“Speaking of which,” Tamara said, casting a worried glance at Aaron, “we need to figure out how to get this apprentice group out of here.”

“Nice segue,” Call muttered. Tamara gave him a dirty look.

“Water magic,” Alastair said, and started to walk down to the edge of the beach. “Gather up some wood. We’ll spell together a raft.”

Suddenly, the whole beach lit up as if a spotlight had been shone on it. Call staggered back, clutching his backpack, fingers digging into the straps. He heard Jasper yell something, and then mages were flying above them.

Master North, Master Rockmaple, Master Milagros, and Master Rufus hovered in the air.

“Dad,” Call shouted, rushing to his father. “They’re going to kill you — you have to go. I can try to hold them off!”

“No!” Alastair cried against the wind. “I deserve punishment for taking the Alkahest, but I’m not the one who’s in the greatest danger —”

“CALLUM,” Master Rufus said. “TAMARA. AARON. ALASTAIR. JASPER. DO NOT STRUGGLE.”