The Golden Tower (Magisterium #5)(38)

“Tamara and Gwenda can share,” he announced, “and Call and I will each have our own room.”

There was a chorus of discontent, but Jasper pointed out that he had paid for the rooms, so he got his own, and if one of the girls wanted to sleep in the room with Call, it was their business. In the end, they wound up eating cold tacos and nachos in the courtyard of the motel as the sun set in the distance.

That night Call lay in bed for a long time trying to sleep. Everything felt like a weight on his shoulders. It was hard to stay focused when he knew that he was the reason they were all there, and he was the reason they had to fight Alex, and he was the reason pretty much everything bad in the world had ever happened.

Which was only sort of an exaggeration.

That’s not true, said Aaron.

There was a knock on the door. Call dragged himself out of bed, wondering if Jasper was here to ask for another favor. But it wasn’t Jasper. It was Tamara.

“Can I come in?” she said nervously. She was in pajamas and fuzzy slippers. The peach color of the pajamas made her skin shine.

“I, uh,” said Call.

Oh, just say yes, said Aaron irritably.

“Sure,” said Call, standing aside to let Tamara pass. He was glad he’d worn his less ratty sweatpants and a clean T-shirt. And that he’d showered about five times, because he still felt gross after being soaked at Niagara.

Tamara came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. So far on the edge actually that she looked like she was about to topple off. “Call,” she said, fiddling with her necklace. “Look, I wanted to talk to you about —”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Call blurted.

Oh, no, not now, Aaron groaned.

“Shut up,” Call said.

Tamara raised her eyebrows. “I know you’re talking to Aaron,” she said. “Maybe we should wait to have this conversation until we’re alone.”

Oh, go on, Aaron said. I don’t have anything else to do.

“Aaron says he doesn’t have anything else to do anyway,” said Call.

“I’m not sure this is romantic,” said Tamara.

“But that’s the thing,” said Call. “You know me. You have since the beginning, and you always see the best in me. Even though I’ve been seventeen different evil mages.”

Eighteen, said Aaron. But who’s counting?

“You know the truth about me,” said Call. “All the truth. Everything no one else but Aaron knows. And you’ve still always — well, maybe not right at first — believed in me. You make me want to do good things, Tamara. You make me want to save people just to make you happy.”

“But not because you actually want to save them?” she asked.

Call had the feeling maybe his speech had gone a little awry. “Kind of. Sometimes?” he answered. “Other times I wish someone else would do it.”

“Fair,” she said, and smiled. “Proceed.”

“Well, I want to go out with you. I know I’ve brought a lot of weird stuff into your life and am currently possessed by our best friend, not to mention the whole Enemy of Death thing, so I get why you might be fed up with me. But in case you’re not, in case you were wondering how I felt, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Tamara’s smile faltered a little. “Call, I really like you.”

Uh-oh, said Aaron, which did not improve Call’s spirits.

“It’s okay,” Call interrupted her, because if he already knew the answer, he didn’t need to hear her say it. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just think about it. You can tell me after we deal with Alex.”

She was quiet for a long, heart-wrenching moment and then let out her breath in a rush. “Are you sure you want to wait?”

Call nodded his head and gave a mock yawn. “We should probably get some sleep,” he said.

Tamara leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, making him feel overheated and confused all at once. When she went out, he experienced a pang of regret. Maybe he should call her back and hear whatever terrible thing she was going to say.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t sleep much either.





FLORIDA WAS HOT and sticky. The Rolls didn’t have air-conditioning, so they kept the windows down and fanned themselves a lot. They drove past Tallahassee to a stretch of swamp near the Sopchoppy River, where Lucas had said Greta made her home.

Call turned onto the road that the GPS on Jasper’s phone told him to turn on, but he did it with great trepidation. It was unpaved and bumpy and entirely unsuited to an ancient, elegant car.

The road ran along the river, which was coffee colored and smooth. All around were cypress trees, hanging with moss. The roots stretched out into the water like fingers. A snake — Call thought it might be a copperhead — swam casually along through a cluster of lily pads, past something Call thought might be the nose of a gator.

The road was quickly turning to mud and the path was becoming a lot less clear.

“You’re sure this is the way?” Call asked.

“Maybe?” said Jasper. “The GPS seems to be asking us to turn again, but there isn’t a turn.”

The Rolls slowed, partly because Call had pressed on the brakes and partly because the mud was getting deeper. Call had the uncomfortable sensation that the car was sinking a little in the muck.