“So are you saying young Makars should be killed, as is the custom in other countries?” asked Master Rufus. He didn’t speak loudly, but his voice was clear, powerful, and carrying. “Because someone’s tried. The chandelier collapsed because the chain was tampered with. Someone was attempting to assassinate the Makars.”

  “Assassinate?” Master Sukarno said, deflating slightly.

  Another teacher at the Collegium made a sharp gesture in the air and said an unfamiliar word.

  A sudden, deafening roar went through the room. Alastair tightened his grip on Call, Tamara’s parents grabbed her, and Master Rufus reached for Aaron. Some kind of alarm system seemed to have gone off — a path lit up suddenly in front of them, and Call could see doors that had been previously invisible illuminated in the walls. He, Aaron, and Tamara were hustled through one of the doors, down a corridor, and into a dimly lit, windowless room full of couches and chairs. Collegium staff raced around, securing the area.

  Someone brought them blankets and mugs of sugary tea that seemed to be an apology on the part of Master Sukarno for accusing them of being careless delinquents. Anastasia Tarquin appeared with an energy bar and presented it to Aaron, telling him that using that much chaos magic, even with a counterweight, was likely to make him pretty tired.

  For a moment, Call thought that meant that maybe the adults would leave them alone. Tamara was huddled on a couch with her parents, and Aaron was curled in an armchair looking miserable and exhausted. But of course, none of that mattered. The moment the staff bustled away, Master Rufus, Master North, Anastasia, and Graves all started asking endless awkward questions.

  Why had Call come into the Trophy Room? Had anyone threatened him at the party? Did he know Aaron would follow him in?

  There was no point embarrassing himself in front of the teaching staff of the Magisterium and the Collegium, never mind the Assembly, so Call lied. Nope, no one knew he was going to the Trophy Room. Nope, no one knew that Aaron would be with him. He just hated dancing and had been wandering around, checking out all the old stuff. He had totally not been stood up on a maybe date. He was definitely not a loser whose friends had almost been crushed under a chandelier of loserdom.

  Then Celia and Jasper were allowed in with their parents trailing behind them. Celia’s two mothers, Jasper’s mom and dad. Mr. DeWinter gave Jasper a little shove and a stern look, as though warning him against doing anything potentially humiliating to their family name.

  Call sighed, prepared for the worst. It had been bad enough when he’d imagined Celia explaining why she’d decided not to meet him, but explaining it in front of everyone was like an extra scoop of humiliation piled on top of his already overfull sundae of embarrassment. He wondered if it was bad to wish the chandelier had crushed him.

  “You’re friends with these three,” Master North said to Celia and Jasper, indicating Call, Tamara, and Aaron. Celia looked pleased to hear this. Jasper looked as if he’d been accused of something. “Did you notice anything tonight, anyone behaving strangely toward them?”

  “Jennifer Matsui was talking to Call,” said Jasper. “Which is weird, because she’s pretty and popular, and Call is hideous and unpopular.” Jasper caught Alastair glaring at him, and flushed. “Just kidding. But I didn’t think they knew each other.”

  “They do a little,” said Tamara. “Jennifer’s friends with my sister.”

  “She’s not friends with Call, though,” said Celia. She turned to Call. “Why would you be talking to Jennifer?”

  Call had had it. “She was giving me the note,” he said. “Your note.”

  “What note?” Celia looked totally baffled. “I didn’t write you a note.”

  Call pulled the paper out of his pocket. “So what’s this?”

  Celia frowned at it. “But this isn’t my handwriting. And it doesn’t have my signature or anything — just my name written out. Did she say it was from me?” Then, she reread the words and flushed, her neck going red. “You thought you were meeting me? That’s why you were in the Trophy Room?”

  Tamara scowled. “You didn’t tell us that.”

  “Callum,” Master North said, his voice stern enough to make everyone else go quiet. “Let’s go through what happened today again, very slowly. And this time you’re not going to leave anything out. Do you understand me? This is too important.”

  “Okay,” Call said, chastened. “It was just that I —”

  “No excuses,” Master North said. “Begin.”

  “I was looking for Alastair when Jennifer Matsui gave me a note and said it was from a … uh, pretty blond girl,” Call said, wishing that he knew enough magic to make himself invisible or turn into a mist that could slither through the floorboards.

  Celia beamed at him. “Really?”

  Jasper started snickering. At Master Rufus’s scowl, he tried to stop, but didn’t seem likely to be successful.

  “You’re the only blond girl he knows,” snapped Tamara, clearly far less amused. Nearly being crushed by ten tons of glass and crystal probably made her less interested in embarrassing Call.

  Master North reached out his hand for the note and Celia gave it to him. He peered at it for a long moment, then looked at her. “And you didn’t write this? You’re sure?”

  Celia shook her head. “I didn’t. I mean —” She looked at Call unhappily. “I feel really bad someone used my name to try to hurt you.”

  “It was no problem,” Call said, trying to seem as if he didn’t mind one way or the other. Then he realized that saying that nearly being crushed by a chandelier was no problem was kind of bizarre. He looked helplessly at his dad. Alastair shrugged.

  “Where is Jennifer Matsui now?” Master Rufus asked, clearly impatient with Call’s dithering. “The person who gave her the note is likely to be the person responsible for tampering with the chandelier. Unless she did it herself.”

  “Jennifer?” Tamara said. “Why would she do that?”

  Aaron frowned. “Why would anyone want to kill Call?”

  “Well, he’s a Makar,” said Master Rufus. “Just like you.”

  Aaron, Tamara, and Call exchanged quick looks. It was true that Call was a Makar, but in Aaron’s question, Call had heard the second question that everyone who knew his secret probably had. The question they couldn’t ask or share. Because while everyone else was thinking that the person trying to kill Call had been targeting one of the Makaris, there was another possibility: that the person who had been targeting Call was trying to kill him because he knew what Call really was.

  Maybe if the truth comes out, Call thought, whoever tried to drop a chandelier on me will get an award, too.

  “Yeah, with his winning personality, it’s hard to imagine who’d want to kill Call,” said Jasper.

  “Jasper!” said Tamara, but Call, for once, didn’t mind it. Jasper being a jerk to him was normal, and right now, normal was all he wanted.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. A scream split the room — and then another, and another. Someone in the Collegium was shrieking in terror.

  Tamara bolted to her feet. Aaron’s energy bar went flying. Alastair looked horrified. “What’s going on?” demanded Mrs. Rajavi, whirling to look toward the Masters.

  Call was on his feet, too, running toward the door. His leg ached but he pushed past the pain — even so, he wasn’t as fast as the others. He could hear voices, yells and cries, all echoing from one end of the Collegium. He followed the others as they ran back through the long corridor and down another hall, back into the War Room.

  The room was full of people. The person who’d been screaming was still screaming. It was Kimiya. One of her hands was clutching the front of her dress, the other hand pointing up.

  Outside the clear glass Call could see the water all around the Collegium, glowing a murky greenish blue. The schools of fish had vanished. There was only the water, and floating in the water was a body. A girl, barefoot in a dress that was partly wrapped around her, like seaweed. Her dark hair drifted in the current.

  Tamara ran toward her sister, but Alex had already put his arms around Kimiya. There was an expression of horror on his face. “Jen,” wept Kimiya, into his shirt. “Jen …”

  Call felt as if his blood was fizzing with ice. The body in the water drifted and turned, and Call saw two things: First, that there was a long iron dagger plunged into the dead girl’s chest. Second, that her face was familiar.

  It was Jennifer Matsui, and someone had murdered her.

  THERE WAS A loud explosion. “Everybody out!” barked Master Graves, who had climbed onto the War Room table. One of his hands was raised, and fire glimmered in his palm. “Now!”

  Master Rufus’s face was lined and haggard in the blue light. Call wondered if he’d known Jen Matsui, what it was like for him to see a student die. He’d been Constantine Madden’s teacher — he’d seen many students die. Call wondered if you got used to it. From Master Rufus’s expression, he guessed not.

  Rufus raised his palm. Light shone from his fingers, illuminating a pathway to the doors. “Move,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. The other Masters and several of the Assembly members surged forward, helping to herd the panicking, weeping, and shouting guests out of the War Room.

  People poured into the hallway and then into the great hall. Anastasia Tarquin was there with several Masters, including Master Taisuke. They began directing people toward the stairs that led out of the Collegium. Call saw Celia disappearing up the steps with her moms and wondered if she was okay. Alastair, who had a hand on Call’s shoulder, pushed him in that direction, gesturing for Aaron to follow.

  Looking back, Call saw Tamara in some kind of intense conversation with her parents and the deWinters. Mrs. deWinter didn’t seem happy and neither did the Rajavis. Mr. deWinter’s expression was strange, though, like he was pleased and didn’t want to show it. The crowd parted around them as it moved toward the exit. Assembly members apparently didn’t have to follow orders.

  “We didn’t even get to say good-bye to Tamara,” Call told his father.

  “Not now,” his father said, pushing with more force. “We need to get out of here before —”

  “Alastair,” said Master Rufus. “Wait.”

  Alastair paused. Call could sense him tensing with anger. He turned slowly, and so did Call and Aaron. The floating ropes had risen around them, cordoning off Aaron, Call, and Alastair.

  “You can’t just leave,” said Master Milagros. “Call was attacked, and Jennifer murdered. Our apprentices need to be somewhere where we can keep them safe.”

  “Since you can’t even keep the children safe at a party, I think it’s a stretch to promise they’ll be safe anywhere else just because you’ll be there.” Alastair’s voice was cold.

  “School begins in three days,” Master Rufus said. “I expect to see both the Makaris there and so does the Assembly. We will keep them safe — you’re going to have to trust us.”

  Alastair turned to Rufus, some of the rage Call remembered from the Iron Trial lighting his face.

  “It’s been a long, long time since I trusted you, Rufus,” Alastair said. “And look what happened then.” His hand shot out, and the ropes surrounding them fell away to ash. Sparks curled between his fingers. Call looked at Aaron with wide eyes. “Let me know when you have found the person who did this, because until then I’ll trust you as far as I can throw you. Come on, boys.”

  Call and Aaron scrambled to follow Alastair as he stalked toward the staircase. Amazingly, people shifted aside to let him pass, even the members of the Assembly. Probably because everyone thought he was the person who’d chopped off Constantine Madden’s head and he looked about ready to chop off one of theirs.

  Call and Aaron exchanged wide-eyed looks as Alastair dragged them toward the steps.

  “Wait!” Tamara said, running up to them, pulling Jasper behind her like a tugboat. Her parents were still where she’d left them; they’d detached Alex from Kimiya and were comforting their daughter themselves. “I’m coming with you. We both are.”

  “What?” Jasper said. “No! I didn’t think you were serious. Your hot sister needs a shoulder to cry on. I volunteer myself. I would be much better at that than staying in whatever hovel Call and his weird dad —”

  Tamara kicked him savagely and he lapsed into a sullen silence.

  Alastair regarded them both with surprise. “Well, you’re welcome, but I don’t think your parents would stand for it. I’ve know them for a long time and I’d be surprised if they agreed to let you out of their sight.”

  Tamara firmed her jaw, determination writ in every line of her face. “We have to take shifts watching over Call. I told them so and they agreed with me.”

  “Shifts?” Aaron said.

  “Someone tried to kill Call,” said Tamara. “That means we can’t ever let him out of our sight. Someone has to be watching him constantly, twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Even when I’m sleeping?” Call asked.

  Tamara fixed him with a gimlet eye. “Especially when you’re sleeping,” she said. “You’re defenseless then.”

  Call wasn’t thrilled about the plan. “What? No! I don’t want Jasper watching me sleep — that’s creepy. I don’t want anyone watching me sleep!”

  “We can discuss this later,” Alastair said. “If you want to come with us, Tamara, Jasper, we’re going now.”

  Call looked over at Aaron, but he wasn’t paying attention to the discussion. He was staring past them, down the hall at the War Room and beyond, where Jen’s body was floating. Call thought about their carefree summer of building robots and running through sprinklers and wondered if he’d been foolish to think that just because he’d tricked the mages into believing things had changed, they really had.

  “Come on,” Tamara said to Aaron, touching him on the shoulder and pulling his attention back to the here and now. Call allowed himself to be herded by his father toward the stairs. They passed the drinks table, now overturned, where Jen had handed Call the note.

  When Alastair got to the stairs, he lifted Call in the air, moving him to glide swiftly and easily just above the steps of the staircase. He did it in a distracted, effortless manner, the same way he’d burned away the velvet ropes, as though he wasn’t even really paying attention to what he was doing. Call was shocked. His dad had avoided using magic for so long that Call didn’t think he really remembered how.

  They reached the top of the steps and Alastair set Call gently down. He began striding ahead of the four kids, along the jetty, back toward where the car was parked.

  They had just passed the giant weird statue of Poseidon when Jasper noticed Alastair’s Rolls-Royce Phantom. He gave a long, appreciative whistle that ended abruptly — in a choking noise — when he realized that the car he was admiring belonged to Call’s father.

  “Not what you expected?” Call asked as Alastair opened the door and ushered them into the spacious backseat.

  For once, Jasper didn’t seem to have anything to say. They all piled silently into the car, Call crawling into the front seat beside his dad. As they pulled away from the boardwalk, Call looked back to see a group of mages standing at the edge of the ocean, near the Collegium entrance. As he watched, one of them walked into the water and disappeared.

  “Water mages. They’re retrieving the girl’s body,” said Alastair in a grim tone.

  Call looked away. It was hard to believe that cheerful Jen, who’d teased him when she handed him the message, who Jasper had wanted to meet, was dead. The evening was supposed to honor the end of the war and somehow that made everything that had happened that much more grotesque. But could there ever really be peace, Call thought, when the Enemy of Death wasn’t dead?

  Somehow, back at the house, Alastair found enough pillows and blankets for all of them. Aaron abdicated his military cot so Tamara could move it into the den, because he was like that. Jasper claimed the couch, though he complained bitterly that it didn’t fold out, and accused Havoc of giving the couch fleas. Call, who knew perfectly well that Havoc was flea-free, was back to hating Jasper. Aaron took a pile of blankets, made a makeshift bed on the floor at the foot of Call’s, and went to sleep.

  Call was almost asleep himself when there was a knock on his door. It was Tamara, looking faintly embarrassed. “Do you have anything I could sleep in?” she asked. “All I have is this” — she indicated her floaty dress — “and, yeah, I probably shouldn’t …”

  Call realized he was blushing. He wished it could be totally uncomplicated, having a girl best friend. It should be just like it was with Aaron. It shouldn’t matter that Tamara was a girl. Still, he felt clumsy and stupid as he fished around in his T-shirt drawer until he found an oversize shirt that read WELCOME TO THE LURAY CAVERNS on it in Day-Glo yellow. He handed it over silently.

  “Thanks,” Tamara said. “I’ll wash it and give it back to you —”

  “That’s fine, you can keep it —”

  “— And, Call?”

  “I mean, I’ve never worn it anyway, it’s too big, and —”

  “Call,” Tamara said, again, looking at him with big, serious eyes. “We’re going to keep you safe, okay?”

  Call wished he could believe it. “Okay,” he said.

  They sat out in the yard the next day, Tamara back in her yellow dress, Jasper in a strange combination of Call’s clothes and his own. It was brightly sunny, and Alastair had made them lemonade out of powder, which Tamara was giving the fisheye. Call suspected she didn’t drink a lot of reconstituted things. Jasper was looking around haughtily at Call’s small backyard and slightly overgrown grass.

  Not that Alastair seemed to notice. He was seated on a rock, tinkering with a broken alarm clock. Even though there were digital alarm clocks and cell phones nowadays, people would pay decent money for old-fashioned phones and other gadgets that had been fixed up to run well.