As for the person who’d started the rumors about Aaron, Jasper didn’t know anything yet. He promised to have more information by the end of the week.

  By the time Thursday night rolled around, Call was just ready for Friday — no matter how bad it was — to happen. Anything to be closer to some answers. But at the Refectory, Master Rufus told them they were going to have a late-night lesson, as Alma had returned.

  “Tamara, it’s a lesson in chaos magic, so —” he began, but she cut him off.

  “I want to watch,” she said. “It’ll be interesting. Not that many people get to see chaos magic in person and I’ve seen a lot of it. I want to know more about how it works.”

  He nodded, although he didn’t look entirely happy. Of course, Master Rufus’s resting expression was usually a gloomy one, so maybe that didn’t mean anything.

  After finishing up their lichen and mushrooms and cloudy gray underground smoothies, they gathered in the usual classroom. Master Rufus paced back and forth. Alma leaned on a short staff and spoke. “As you know, the opposite of chaos, or void, magic is the soul. In the last lesson, you learned to see a soul. Now I want you to learn to touch another person’s soul with your magic — a brief tap is all.”

  “I believe I previously stated my objection to doing this,” Call said. “It’s creepy and weird and we don’t even know what it does to the other person.”

  Alma gave a long-suffering sigh. “As I said before, you’re rendering them unconscious. Nothing else. But if you are too squeamish, then I suggest that Aaron start. He can practice on you.”

  “I, uh —” Call began.

  Tamara got up from where she’d been sitting, against a rock wall. “I’ll do it.”

  “You can’t!” Call said. “Also, what is the deal with everyone wanting to knock me out?”

  “It must be something about your face,” Tamara said, shaking her head as though he was being even more ridiculous than usual. “But what I actually meant was that I’ll let Aaron practice on me. I volunteer to be soul-tapped.”

  Aaron gave her a dubious look. “Why? I don’t want to hurt you!”

  She shrugged. “I want to know how it works and maybe I won’t be able to tell much, but maybe I will. And since you’re worried about it hurting, I can tell you.”

  Call hesitated. He felt stupid for objecting to the whole thing. Learning how to tap people into sleep was pretty awesome, so long as it didn’t scramble their souls. If someone was annoying him, a little soul tap would take care of that. He could make Jasper pass out constantly.

  “Fine, fine,” Call said. “Teach me how to do it, too.”

  Tamara gave him a dirty look, but Alma was all smiles. “It’s easy,” she told him.

  It wasn’t. Alma understood the theory but had never done it herself, and the last time she’d had a Makar to experiment with was almost two decades before. According to her, the act took a massive amount of focus, first to see a soul and then to reach out the thinnest sliver of chaos magic to touch it.

  Call got paired with Alma, much to his annoyance, while Aaron got Tamara. The idea of touching the soul of someone he barely knew made him feel cold and shuddery and strange.

  He had to try, though. He closed his eyes and tried to do what she said, tried to see her soul like he’d seen Aaron’s. But it wasn’t the same. Aaron was one of his best friends. This was like playing hide-and-seek when everything was dark, grabbing around randomly. But he caught hold of her soul without quite meaning to. He wasn’t just tapping it; he could feel the silver length of it wriggling like a fish out of water. He had the impression of iron will and enormous sadness and sudden terror, before he pulled his thoughts away from her. Gasping, he opened his eyes just in time to see hers roll up in her head.

  She collapsed onto the pile of pillows that Master Rufus had conjured from some other area of the Magisterium.

  He glanced over to see Aaron catch Tamara in his arms as she swooned gracefully. Aaron held her for a moment before her eyes fluttered open and she laughed and straightened up, grinning at Aaron.

  Rufus had hurried to Alma’s side. “She’s still unconscious,” he said. “But she’s all right.” He looked grim. “Good work, everyone.”

  Call had done it. He had tapped someone’s soul. He just didn’t feel good about it. Not at all.

  Friday dawned. Callum was awoken by Havoc licking his bare feet, which was gross and also tickled. Call twisted around, still half-asleep, trying to protect his toes by scooting them under the covers. But that just made Havoc leap onto the bed and lick his face.

  “Off — murpf — come on!” Call sputtered, covering his head with one hand and pushing the wolf back with another. Sometimes knowing where Havoc’s tongue had been was worse than not knowing.

  Pulling on his uniform, still drowsy, he wondered if he could soul-tap Havoc back to sleep for another fifteen minutes, but then he decided what with him being Chaos-ridden and all, probably enough had been done to Havoc’s soul.

  Call padded into the common room and banged on Tamara’s door. It was her turn to accompany him on morning walks. A groan came from inside and a few minutes later she opened the door, looking as bleary-eyed as he felt, wearing her purple armband. That reminded Call to go back for his. They staggered out into the hall, holding a leash no one had bothered to attach to Havoc.

  “Today’s the day,” Tamara said, pointing to her armband, when they were halfway to the Mission Gate. “Everyone’s going to be expecting big things from us at this test, but I’ve been talking to the other students, and Master Rufus has been spending so much time teaching us about personal responsibility and teaching you two about chaos magic that I don’t think we’re ready.”

  Call had been concentrating on not tripping. His leg was always stiff in the mornings and it was tricky to put too much weight on it before it limbered up. He nodded. Call always suspected he wasn’t ready for things, but he didn’t like Tamara agreeing with him.

  “Maybe we can use chaos magic,” he suggested. “It can be our not-so-secret weapon.”

  She snorted. “Sure, if you want everyone to think you cheated.”

  “It’s not cheating!” Call insisted. “It’s Aaron’s and my magic.”

  Tamara raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you’d think if you weren’t a Makar?”

  “Probably not,” Call said reasonably. “But I am a Makar.”

  She made the face at him that meant she was either annoyed or amused. Call was never sure in which direction the expression was weighted — all he knew was that she wore it a lot, especially around him.

  Havoc did his business as Call drank in the fresh air and kicked at some leaves. Then they went back inside, where they discovered that their stuff had finally been deemed harmless by the mages and returned to them. Although Call was tempted to look through everything, he grabbed Miri, sheathed the knife, and headed for the Refectory with Tamara. They found Aaron already at their table, with Jasper and Rafe. Aaron’s whole body was hunched over his plate, as though he were trying to disappear.

  Tamara flopped down in a chair and regarded Jasper. “Well? Did you find out anything useful?”

  Japer raised an eyebrow at her. “Go away, Rafe,” he said.

  “Why?” screamed Rafe. “For the love of God, why?” He seized his plate and moved to another table as Jasper looked after him with raised eyebrows.

  “Never mind him. He’s always grouchy in the morning,” he said. “Anyway, I did talk to Celia. I had to really pull out my full range of charms to get anything out of her.”

  Aaron looked alarmed. Call rolled his eyes. “Please, no more masculine tips,” Aaron begged. “Just tell us what she said, if she said anything.”

  Jasper looked mildly deflated. “There aren’t any rumors about any Makars other than you two. Although apparently there’s a lot of chatter about you guys, if you’re interested. How you took down the Enemy. Whether you’re going to start experimenting with your powers. If you have girlfriends.”

  “Why would they have girlfriends?” Tamara sounded shocked.

  “Vote of confidence there, Tamara,” said Call.

  “I just meant — well, it’s not like you have time.”

  “When it’s love, you make the time,” said Jasper, gazing at them in a superior manner.

  Tamara groaned. “And the rumors? Who started them?”

  Jasper shook his head. “Still don’t know. Celia said she thought maybe one of the older kids.”

  Tamara sucked in her breath. “Do you think it could have been Kimiya?” she said. “She was horrible to Aaron.”

  “But why would she make up stuff like that?” Aaron said. “She knows me — a little a least.”

  “I don’t think it was her,” said Call. “She acted like someone who was shocked that Aaron might not be who she thought. Not like someone who had already started a rumor about him.”

  Jasper tossed a mushroom into the air and munched it. “It’s only been a week. I’ll find out more.”

  “Great,” said Aaron. “We might actually get some answers if we survive the test today.”

  Call had almost forgotten about the test. He groaned.

  Master Rufus headed them off as they were leaving the Refectory. He had a sinister smile on his face and a big bag slung over his shoulder. “Come, apprentices. I think you’re going to like what we’ve got in store for you today.”

  Call did not like it.

  They were back in the enormous room where many of the tests took place, including fighting wyverns in their Iron Year. But this time it was on fire — okay, maybe not all of it, but a lot of it. Call felt heat encase him immediately, roasting his edges gently, like a marshmallow about to singe.

  In the center of the room were leaping flames. They weren’t random, though. They were set out in a pattern. Lines of flame ran parallel to each other, leaving what looked like pathways between them. It reminded Call of pictures he’d seen of hedge mazes, people wandering around inside labyrinths made of trees and bushes. But this one was made of live flame.

  “A fire maze,” Aaron said, staring. Tamara was staring, too, her eyes dancing with reflected flames. The fire rose and fell, scattering sparks. Call wondered if Tamara was thinking of her sister.

  One of the Gold Year students, probably Master North’s apprentice, passed by and carefully handed Master Rufus three canteens from a pile she was carrying. Rufus nodded and turned back to his apprentices. “These are for you,” he said, indicating the canteens, each of which was carefully engraved with initials: AS. CH. TR. “Water is fire’s opposing element. These are filled with a small amount of water for you to draw on as you navigate the maze. Remember that you can use it all and charge through the walls or save your magic. I am not going to tell you which one is the wiser course. You are to use your own judgment.”

  Call was pretty sure that Master Rufus was telling them which was preferable, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  “The only thing absolutely not allowed is flying up above the maze. That will result in immediate disqualification. Understood?” Master Rufus gave them each a stern look.

  Call nodded. “Because it’s cheating?”

  “And dangerous,” said Tamara. “Heat rises. The air above the maze will be scorching.”

  “Quite right,” Master Rufus said. “One more thing: You will be going in individually.” He looked long and hard into each of their shocked faces. “Not as a group, but alone.”

  “Wait, what?” Tamara said. “But we’re supposed to be protecting Call! We haven’t been letting him out of our sight.”

  “We thought this was a team challenge,” Aaron put in. “What about the armbands?”

  Master Rufus glanced toward some of the other Masters standing with their apprentices, readying them for the maze. Some of the older students were weaving between them, handing out canteens, answering questions. Assistants. Call saw the flash of gold and silver wristbands, caught sight of Alex and Kimiya. Kimiya looked over toward them and gave Tamara a small wave, but Tamara didn’t wave back. Her dark eyes were flinty.

  “It is a team challenge — your scores will be averaged,” Master Rufus said. “This test is to demonstrate that it’s important for each and every one of you to take responsibility for the educations of the other apprentices in your group. And while it’s important for you to know how to function in a group, it’s also important to know how to function on your own.

  “Don’t worry about Call,” Master Rufus added. “Worry about yourselves and your scores. Each one of you will enter from a different part of the maze. Your job is to make it to the center. The first person who gets there will win an entire day free of classes, to be spent in the Gallery with the rest of their team.”

  Call felt a sudden spur of fierce desire to win. A whole day off, lying around in the hot pools, watching movies and eating candy with Tamara and Aaron. That would be amazing!

  He also was grateful not to be looked after for the test. He appreciated what his friends were doing, but he wasn’t used to never being alone and it wore on him. This was a test, created and run by the Masters. That meant no one was safe. But, probably, he wasn’t in any more danger than the rest of them.

  Master North’s voice came booming across the field of fire, amplified by air magic. He told them the rules again, emphasizing the no-flying part, and then began to read off their individual starting places. Call looked for his chalk mark: BY9.

  “Good luck,” he told Aaron and Tamara, both of whom were clutching their canteens and looking at him worriedly. Call felt a surge of warmth, and not from the fire. Both his friends were about to enter a blazing labyrinth, and both of them were worried about him, not themselves.

  “Be careful,” Aaron told him, clapping Call on the shoulder. His green eyes were reassuring.

  “We can do this,” Tamara said, some of her old enthusiasm back. “We’ll be splashing around in the Gallery before you know it.”

  She and Aaron took their places. Call heard Master North’s voice rising above the crackle and clamor of the flames. “Ready, set, and go, students!”

  Apprentices darted forward. There were multiple pathways into the maze. Call followed his own track, leading him deep into the fire. It blazed up all around him. He could see the other students only as shadows through the licking orange and red fire.

  The maze branched off into two different paths. Call picked the left one at random and headed down it. His heart was beating hard and his throat felt like it was burning from the superheated air he was inhaling. At least there was no smoke.

  Fire wants to burn. He remembered his own ironic retort to that the first time he’d heard the Cinquain. Call wants to live. At that moment, the flames burned down lower and Call was able to look out across the maze.

  He saw no one. His heart sped up as he realized not one single other student was visible. He seemed to be alone in the labyrinth, though he could still see the Masters standing against the walls.

  “Aaron?” he called. “Tamara?”

  He strained his ears to hear above the snapping of the fire. He thought he caught his name, faint as a whisper. He lunged toward the sound, just as the flames shot up around him again, now burning as high as telephone poles. Nearly caught by a blast of rising fire, Call staggered free, the edge of one of his sleeves burning. He put it out with a slap, but his eyes were stinging, almost blinded, and he was coughing hard.

  He reached for his canteen and thumbed it open, expecting to see the familiar glint of water. Water that he could draw on, whose power he could use to douse the flame.

  But it was empty.

  Call shook it right next to his ear, hoping he was wrong, hoping for the familiar slosh of liquid. He tipped it over against his hand, hoping for even a single drop. There wasn’t. There was nothing, except a tiny hole in the base. It looked as though it had been drilled through.

  “Master Rufus!” he shouted. “My canteen doesn’t have any water! You have to stop the test!”

  But the flames only leaped up around him. A blast of it shot out in his direction and he had to jump to one side to avoid it. Call stumbled and went down hard on one knee, only narrowly avoiding face-planting into a wall of fire. Pain raced up his side. For a moment when he stood up, he wasn’t sure if his bad leg was going to hold him.

  “Master Rufus!” he yelled again. “Master North! Someone!”

  Why did he think it would be okay to be on his own? Why had he trusted the Masters to keep him safe? If Tamara or Aaron were with him, he could have borrowed some of their water! But then his thoughts veered abruptly: What if neither Tamara’s nor Aaron’s canteen had water? What if the same person who’d targeted him wanted to make sure they couldn’t have helped, no matter what.

  He had to find them.

  Call started walking again, trying to ignore the growing heat all around him. Balls of fire worked their way loose at intervals and flew in random directions, like flares. He dodged one as he made his way around a corner. He turned another and found himself standing in front of a wall of fire.

  He’d come to a dead end.

  Skidding to a halt, he turned around, ready to retrace his steps, only to find a wall there, too. The maze had changed and the fire all around him seemed to be reaching out with tongues of flame, singeing him, making the air stink with burned hair and burned cloth.

  Call’s anguished howl was swallowed up by the fire. Of course the maze changed. Otherwise, there was barely any need for the water — there had to be places where magic was required.

  Just then one of the walls shifted closer. Call could see the metal rivets on his boots glowing orange red. Unless he wanted to be barbecued, Call had to find a way out of the maze. He couldn’t fly up; Tamara was right, it would be even hotter in the air right above the flames.

  Air. Wait, Call thought. Fire needs air, right? Fire feeds on air.

  He had an idea.

  He thrust out his left hand, the way he’d seen the mages do when they were summoning power into their spells. The way he’d seen Aaron do it. He reached out, farther than the fire around him, farther than the stone under his feet. Farther than the water running in the brooks and creeks miles above them. Farther than the air. He reached through space that existed and didn’t, reaching past it into nothingness. Into the heart of the void.