The Silver Mask (Magisterium #4)(36)

“You thought you had to let Ravan go. Your family told you — the whole mage world told you that she was as good as dead once she used too much fire magic and got devoured by the element. But she was part of the jailbreak. You trusted her enough for that. So you must think she’s your sister, at least some of the time. You know the mages can be wrong.”

“That’s different,” Tamara protested. “She’s not dead; she’s Devoured.”

“Is it really different?” Call took a deep breath. “I know you’re worried about what it means that I did this. But people hate Constantine Madden because he was an evil psycho with a giant undead army who tried to destroy the mage world — not because he wanted to bring the dead back to life. Everyone wants that. That’s why he had so many followers. Because everyone’s lost somebody. Because when we lose someone, it seems so pointless and random and dumb that there isn’t some answer. Maybe Constantine was a terrible person and maybe I’m a terrible person, too. But I might be the terrible person who saved Aaron.”

“I hope so,” Tamara said. “I want to believe that. I missed Aaron so much and all I want to do is believe that his death was some kind of hideous mistake. But if he’s not himself, Call — if he’s not really back, then you have to promise me that you will let him go, once and for all.”

Call stared at her face. She looked sad instead of hopeful.

“I promise,” he said. “I would never leave Aaron as a Chaos-ridden. I would never do anything to hurt him.”

Tamara grabbed one of Call’s hands and squeezed it tightly. He was so grateful and relieved that he wanted to throw his arms around her, hold her the way he had before. But he didn’t.

She said, “If you stop trusting me, Call, then the only people you’re listening to are Master Joseph and Alex. And they’re not good people. They don’t want the best for you. Or for Aaron.”

“I know that.”

“Then you have to trust me. If I say Aaron isn’t himself, you have to believe me.”

Call nodded. “I will. I trust you. If you say it’s not Aaron, I’ll believe you.”

“You better,” Tamara said, heading for the door. “Because if you don’t, I am going to stop trusting you, too.”

Call flopped back on the bed, leaning down to pet Havoc’s head. The wolf whined once, as though he could understand what Tamara had said.

After she left, Call was too tired to get up, but too upset to rest anymore. He wanted to go see Aaron, to convince himself that Aaron was fine and that Tamara was wrong, but he was terrified that she might be right. What if Aaron wasn’t really back? What if the use of Call’s soul had just delayed the whole swirling-eye thing? Gloomy thoughts filled his head until finally there was another knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, sure it was going to be Anastasia with more creepy pronouncements about how great he was.

To his surprise, it was Alex.

He was wearing even more black than before, if that was possible, and his hair was gelled into spikes. There were big metal buckles on his boots and his school bracelet glittered on his wrist. Somewhere he’d found someone to stick a black stone in it, showing that he was a Makar.

“Call, little buddy,” he said. “Dinner.”

Call wondered if it was awkward to be in the same house with the person you murdered, now back from the dead and maybe planning revenge. He hoped so.

“Come on,” Alex said when Call didn’t reply. “Don’t just sit there. Your zombie is already at the table.”

“Don’t call him that!” Call snapped. Alex only grinned.

Pushing himself to his feet, Call walked past Alex and limped his way downstairs to the dining room. His whole body ached and he couldn’t keep Tamara’s words from ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t hide. He couldn’t leave Aaron to face everyone alone.

He tried to tell himself that Aaron was fine — really fine — and that Tamara would come around when she realized it, but some part of him wasn’t as sure as he’d like to be.

Master Joseph beamed at Callum. He was presiding over a table laden down with what looked like a Thanksgiving dinner — there was turkey and stuffing, bowls of glazed carrots and sweet potatoes, peas and whipped potatoes and cranberry sauce.

Anastasia sat beside Master Joseph, glowing. Across from her were Jasper, looking very tense, and Aaron, who flinched when Alex came into the room. Call shoved past Alex and went next to Aaron, who had his hands tightly bunched together in his lap. He looked at Call oddly — as if he were a little glad to see him, and a little bit not.

Smirking, Alex threw himself into a chair beside Anastasia. Absently, she reached over and ruffled his hair, though her eyes were on Call. Hungry eyes, he thought, devouring him.

“Where’s Tamara?” Aaron asked as Call settled into his chair. Call started ladling food onto his own plate and then onto Aaron’s. Aaron picked up his fork and knife, and Call’s spirits lifted. When everyone saw Aaron eat, he thought, they’d have to accept he was normal. Chaos-ridden didn’t eat.

“She’s upstairs,” Jasper said quickly. “Resting. She had a headache.”

Aaron put his fork down.

Call felt a little sick. “It’s okay,” he whispered, hoping Aaron would believe him. “Eat something. You’ll feel better.”