The Golden Tower (Magisterium #5)(50)

Kimiya smiled brilliantly. Call felt uneasy as she ran across the grass toward Alex and hugged his arm. Either she was giving a bravura performance or she was going to betray them all.

Alex leaned down to kiss her. Tamara made a revolted noise. Thankfully it was a short kiss, and Alex broke away grinning, his arm slung over Kimiya’s shoulders.

“Have the hostages step forward,” Alex said. “Have them walk toward the tower entrance.”

Call looked over at Tamara. Her gaze found his. At least they were in this together. Aaron, too. The three of them against the world. Who’d known that when Rufus had picked them, they would become the most important people in Call’s life? He looked over at Jasper, at his determined face. Call had never thought they would be friends at all, but somehow whenever his life had needed saving, Jasper had been there holding out a hand — usually with a sarcastic quip, but still there.

He took a step forward, and the others did the same. They moved across the grass onto the ground where it turned into gravel. It was still churned up from the feet of the mages who’d worked on building the tower. Havoc ran to his side, keeping his furred body protectively tight against Call’s leg.

Call turned to look back over his shoulder. The mages of the Assembly seemed very far away. He could just see Gwenda, and Rufus —

With a flick of his wrist, Alex sent a blaze of chaos fire toward them all. Call bit back a yell as he realized Alex wasn’t attacking. He was throwing up a blockade. The fire rose in an endless wall that curved around them, cutting off Jasper, Call, Tamara, Kimiya, Havoc, and Alex from the mages, but allowing them access to the tower.

Alex sneered. “Let’s go see our new home. Callum, you can lead the way.”

With a last look at the fire separating him from Master Rufus, Call shuffled toward the door of the tower, a heavy wooden thing. He couldn’t open it, so he just stood there until one of the chaos elementals walked over. It snaked out a tentacle toward the door, but where it touched, there was just a hole where the knob had been.

“Automotones!” Alex shouted. “You do it.”

The massive metal elemental loomed up out of the smoke that surrounded them and advanced on the door. Call stared — they’d all fought Automotones once and nearly been killed.

Automotones lurched up to the front doors, his eyes, which were gears, whirring and spinning. His hand shot out, and a vibrating, buzzing blade appeared at the end of it. He sawed at the door until a large chunk of it fell open, crashing onto the ground.

Alex is going to have to get that door fixed, Call thought. Definitely not a long-term-planning kind of guy.

Automotones stepped back and they all headed inside with varying degrees of reluctance. The first floor was a large round room, entirely empty except for a rug and a spiral staircase winding upward.

Call went up, and the others followed.

The second floor was all one huge room with massive windows through which Call could see the tops of trees. There were multiple couches and a small kitchen, along with a large screen like the one in the Gallery, where Alex used to project movies. Since Call wasn’t sure where Alex wanted him to go, he stopped there, walking toward the far corner. Tamara followed him, then Jasper.

“Now,” Call said to them. He pulled three times on his cuffs and his hands were free. Then he brought the whistle to his mouth and blew. No sound came out, only a wild wind that raced around the room to coalesce as Alastair and then to disappear again. Beside him, Lucas manifested — and then Greta. But both of them were gone by the time Alex walked into the room. Call had his hands behind his back, even though they were no longer bound. Tamara and Jasper did the same.

Alex smiled in a smug way, walking around to admire his new digs, billowing cloak swishing around behind him. He was holding one of Kimiya’s hands. Call thought the smile on her face seemed forced.

He hoped it was forced.

“Pretty nice here, isn’t it?” Alex said, waving an arm around to indicate the whole space — the marble floor, the big couches with their cushions, the enormous TV. “Mom! I’m home!”

Anastasia, Aaron thought. Of course she’s somewhere in here.

“Alex?” They all stood still as Anastasia came wafting down the staircase from above. She wore a white dress and a sort of gossamer white overcloak. Her icy hair was bound up in a tight knot.

She looked at Call for a long, steady moment. He couldn’t read her expression. He felt chilled inside — what if she’d seen what had happened to Graves out the window? What if she was reconsidering everything?

Calm down, Aaron said. You don’t know that.

But he sounded scared, too.

Anastasia crossed the room to stand near Alex, who beamed. He looked over at Call, wearing a sneer that seemed exaggerated in a practiced-in-the-mirror kind of way.

“You really thought the Magisterium valued your lives enough to save you, didn’t you, Call Hunt?” He laughed. “But they handed the three of you right over. They’re cowards, just like all the mages. I read all those books in Master Joseph’s house, and what I thought when I read them was how weak we’d become. Mages used to be something. They used to use their power for something other than keeping people safe from elementals. Soon you’re going to be dead, Callum. And then everyone will have to acknowledge that I’m the greatest mage of any generation, the one who defeated the Enemy of Death.”