The Silver Mask (Magisterium #4)(44)

“You’re fine,” Call said. “We just have to get you out of here.”

“When will we go?” Aaron asked.

“Tamara and Jasper and I tried to run before,” Call admitted. “They caught us and brought us back, but that turned out to be a good thing, because then Master Joseph told us about you. So I figured we would stay until we could bring you back.”

“And Tamara and Jasper agreed?” Aaron’s breath made white puffs in the air.

Call took a breath. “I didn’t exactly tell them.”

Aaron didn’t caution him, as he once might have done. He didn’t scold him. He really wasn’t doing a good job of being a moral center, Call had to admit.

Call went on. “I thought that once you were back, they’d agree it was a good thing. And I thought the Assembly would think so, too. Because I did it right. I mean, sure they don’t want armies of Chaos-ridden running around, because they’re basically zombies, but you’re fine.”

Aaron didn’t say anything. They walked on, leaves crunching underfoot. They’d gotten to the part of the woods where they should start back toward the house if they were going to look through the experiment room window, but Call wasn’t ready to veer off quite yet.

“Do you really think I’m fine?” Aaron turned a haunted green gaze on Call.

“Yes,” Call said firmly. He almost felt angry with Aaron, which made no sense, but he couldn’t help it. He’d worked so hard for this, and no one had understood, and now Aaron wouldn’t just act normal. “I’m not saying you’re exactly the way you used to be, but that doesn’t mean you’re not fine.”

“No.” Aaron shook his head stubbornly. “I feel wrong. My body feels wrong. As though I’m not meant to be here.”

“What does that mean?” Call asked, finally losing his temper. “Because it sounds like it means you want to die.”

“I think it’s because I’m dead.” Aaron’s voice was indifferent, which made the words worse.

“Don’t say that!” Call shouted. “Shut up, Aaron —”

“Call —”

“I mean it, don’t say another word!”

Aaron’s mouth snapped shut. His eyes were steady on Call’s.

“Aaron?” Call asked uneasily.

But Aaron didn’t reply. He couldn’t reply, Call realized. Like a Chaos-ridden, he had obeyed Call completely.





AFTER THAT, CALL forgot about Alex and Master Joseph completely.

“I command you to never listen to my commands again, okay?” Call said.

“I heard you the first five times,” Aaron told him, sitting on a rock and looking out toward the river. “But I don’t know if that will work. I have no idea how long your commands last on me.”

Call felt cold all over. He remembered when he’d told Aaron to knock it off with Tamara, and Aaron had immediately shut up. Or when he’d told Aaron to go to sleep, and Aaron had done it. You should just concentrate on getting better, he’d said, the moment he brought Aaron back to life. And Aaron, who’d been through a huge trauma, had said, Okay.

How had he missed it?

He couldn’t lie to himself any more about it. Aaron wasn’t okay, maybe wasn’t even Aaron. This Aaron looked pale and weird and worried. This Aaron did whatever Call said. Maybe he always would. Call couldn’t think of anything more horrible.

“Okay. So you’re not fine,” Call said slowly. “Not right now. Tonight, let’s go down to the experiment room and figure out what’s going on.”

“What if you can’t find anything?” Aaron asked. “You’ve succeeded far more than Constantine Madden ever did. I am mostly here. It’s just that I’m not — I’m not supposed to be.”

This time Call didn’t shout at him to shut up, although he still wanted to. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron said, and there was more animation in his voice than Call had expected. “I’m not — it takes a lot of concentration to pay attention to what’s going on. Sometimes I feel like I’m slipping away. And sometimes I feel like I could do bad things and not really feel anything about them. So, you see, I really can’t be the person who tells you right from wrong, Call. I really, really can’t.”

Call wanted to protest like he had before, but this time he stopped himself. He thought of the flat look in Aaron’s eyes, the way he hadn’t understood why he was supposed to care if the people in the Magisterium died. He couldn’t keep insisting Aaron was fine. If Aaron believed something was wrong, then he owed it to Aaron to believe him.

And at least Aaron could tell. That had to mean something. If he wasn’t Aaron, he wouldn’t have been bothered about how different he felt.

“We can fix this,” Call said instead.

“Death isn’t the same as a flat tire,” Aaron said.

“We have to stay positive,” said Call. “We just need to —”

“Someone’s coming.” Aaron stood up and pointed back toward the house. The front door was open and a line of mages, headed by Master Joseph, was marching toward them.

Call stood up, too. With Tamara and Jasper gone, Call’s plans of escape had become vague and half-formed. He’d been distracted by Aaron’s return and he’d thought that Master Joseph had been distracted, too. He’d figured he had more time.