The Golden Tower (Magisterium #5)(15)

Maybe the Assembly would give you permission to do chaos tricks at parties, too, Aaron said with surprising cynicism.

“How would you know?” Call asked.

Mr. Rajavi’s eyebrows went up. Call supposed it didn’t sound like the question of someone who was planning on being honest.

“Well,” Mr. Rajavi said. “We would choose a new counterweight for you.”

A new counterweight? Call was surprised at the depths of his revulsion at the thought. Aaron was his best friend. That was why he’d been willing to be Aaron’s counterweight and why Aaron had been his.

I’m still your best friend, Aaron said. If you start thinking like I am dead, it’s really going to freak me out.

“What if I don’t agree?” Call asked Mr. Rajavi.

“Let’s just hope that you do,” he said, a promise and a threat all in one.

“I’ve got to think about it,” Call replied.

Mr. Rajavi stood and extended his hand to Call, who got up to shake it. Call realized again how much taller he’d grown. He was looking down at Mr. Rajavi’s head.

“Think well,” Mr. Rajavi said. “You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

On Call’s stiff-legged walk back through the tunnels, he considered Anastasia and the Assembly’s offer. He thought about Alastair, too, and his promise that once Gold Year was over they could travel and establish themselves in a new place with new identities.

Call came to where the rest of his apprentice group was training. Tamara was shaping her metal into a shining circle, liquid and dazzling. Jasper was poking some gold nuggets, while Gwenda was attempting to coax a mushy puddle of bronze into a bracelet. Master Rufus was sitting on a rock, looking to be a bit in despair.

If Call went away with Alastair, he would never see any of them again, but if he accepted the Assembly’s offer, he could see them whenever he wanted. They could all go to the Collegium together. He wouldn’t do any more chaos magic; it wasn’t like he wanted to do it anyway. Mr. Rajavi might not even ground Tamara for dating him.

You’re forgetting about one thing, Aaron said.

What’s that? Call asked.

Me.





AT LUNCH IN the Refectory, Gwenda and Tamara chatted animatedly. Jasper seemed sunk in gloom, gazing frequently over at the nearby table where Celia sat, surrounded by her other Gold and Silver Year friends. Call recognized some of them — a quiet boy with brown hair named Charlie, and a girl with a short black pixie cut whose name, he thought, was Jessie. But quite a few were total strangers to him. Maybe because he’d spent so much time away from the Magisterium, he realized — and maybe because even when he’d been there he’d been too wrapped up in his comfortable group of three to notice much.

Sometimes Jasper would wave at Celia. She would wave back graciously, ignoring everyone else at the table. Tamara just rolled her eyes — they were all laughing and joking around, except Call, who stayed quiet. He could sense Aaron’s tension. Aaron had always loved these kinds of big groups, flourishing on all the humor and affection.

It’s like being a ghost, Aaron said now. I can see everything, but I can’t do anything. Or say anything.

“What is going on with you, Jasper?” Gwenda said finally, after he’d exchanged another weird wave with Celia. “Are you guys together or not?”

“It’s complicated,” said Jasper. “Celia wants me to renounce Call and lodge a protest about being put into Master Rufus’s apprentice group.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Kai. “Half the school would kill to be Rufus’s student.”

“Well, he does seem to LIKE KILLERS,” called Celia, who had clearly overheard and was glaring.

They all dropped their voices. “Well, you obviously can’t do that,” whispered Gwenda.

“No, of course not,” said Jasper.

“Call’s your friend,” said Rafe.

“It’s not that,” Jasper protested. “It’s about not giving in! A deWinter doesn’t do what he’s told! A deWinter is independent!”

Call thought about how Jasper’s father wasn’t independent at all. He was locked away in the Panopticon, besmirching the deWinter name. Jasper liked to complain — a lot — about little stuff, but never about his dad’s situation. It must weigh on him, though.

“Celia can’t keep being so ridiculous,” said Tamara. “It’s unbelievable she’s getting any support.”

“I’d say about half the school feels like she does,” said Kai in a low voice. “There are a lot of people who don’t like or trust Call, and some of them think he’s basically just the Enemy of Death in a Gold Year uniform.”

“What about the people who actually like me?” said Call, feeling sick.

“They’re all at this table,” said Gwenda.

“That’s not true!” Tamara protested. “There are people who like you, Call. And Havoc likes you. And Warren.”

“Warren doesn’t like anyone,” said Call, pushing his plate away. He thought about his dream of the Collegium — wouldn’t it just be more of this?

Kai suddenly stood up. His brown eyes met Call’s and he shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry,” he said, and crossed the room to sit down at Celia’s table.