Call tried to tell them, tried to focus on details that might be helpful instead of the terror and helplessness he’d felt. Tamara and Aaron jumped in to explain their parts. Call made a particular point of highlighting how helpful Havoc had been, since he was still worried about the view the Assembly had taken on Chaos-ridden animals.

“Someone must be very determined. If anyone has an idea why, this would be a good time to tell us.” Master Rufus gave Call a stern look from across the table, as if urging him once more to confess. After Call had brought the Assembly the head of the Enemy of Death, he’d thought that his secret was safe, but now it felt closer to the surface than ever before. If only he could just tell them. If only they’d believe that Call was different from Constantine.

Call opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was Tamara who answered. “We have no idea why anyone would want to hurt Call,” she said. “Call doesn’t have any enemies.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Call muttered, and Tamara kicked him. Hard.

“There’s a rumor going around among the students,” Master Milagros said. “We hesitate to bring it up, but we need to hear it from you. Aaron, did you have anything to do with the elemental attack?”

“Of course he didn’t!” Call yelled. This time Tamara wasn’t kicking him for sticking his oar in.

“We need to hear it from Aaron,” Master Milagros said gently.

Aaron looked down at his hands. “No, I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t hurt Call. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“We believe you, Aaron. Callum is a Makar,” said Master Rockmaple, a short mage with a bristly red beard. Call hadn’t liked him at the Iron Trial, but he was glad Master Rockmaple believed Aaron. “There are any number of reasons those who oppose the Magisterium and what it stands for would attack a Makar. I think our primary concern should be discovering how a malicious elemental gained access to a student’s room and — more importantly — how we can make sure it never happens again.”

Call looked over at Aaron. He was still studying his fingers, picking at the skin around his nails. For the first time, Call noticed that they were bit to the quick.

“It wasn’t just any elemental,” said Master Rufus. “It was one of the great elementals. One of those from our own holding cells. Its name was Skelmis.”

Call thought about Automotones crashing through the house of one of his father’s friends a year before, eager to destroy Call. Automotones had been another of the great elementals. It was disturbing to think that someone had been trying to murder Call for more than a year and that they seemed to be able to harness the most powerful creatures in the Magisterium to do it. Call wondered if it could be one of the Masters after all. He looked around the table and shuddered.

“Now, we may need you three to answer questions about specifics,” said Master North. “And this may take some time. It is a formal inquest into Anastasia Tarquin and whether she was derelict in her responsibilities as the guardian of the elementals. Master Rockmaple will be recording our findings and sending them to the Assembly.”

“I’ve already explained,” Anastasia said. She was dressed in her customary white suit, her icy hair held in place with ivory combs. White-gold rings shone on her fingers. Even her wristband was formed from a pale gray leather. The only color on her face came from her eyes, which were red-rimmed with sleeplessness and worry. “The elemental Skelmis must have been released before I put up the safeguards. There are only two spelled stones that open the vaults to the elementals. One remained around my throat. The other was in a magically sealed vault in my room — locked with three separate locks. I’ve carefully monitored everyone who’s come in and out. You’ve seen the notations. You’ve spoken with the guards. Blaming this on me because it gives you an excuse to push an Assembly representative out of the school doesn’t do any of us any good.”

“So because you didn’t notice anyone coming in, no one must have come in? Is that what we’re supposed to believe?” Master North asked.

Anastasia stood, hands slamming down on the table, making Call jump. “If you intend to accuse me of something, just do it. Do you think I am in league with the Enemy’s forces? Do you think I intentionally brought harm to this boy and his friends?”

“No, of course not,” Master North said, clearly taken aback. “I am not accusing you of anything deliberate. I’m saying that you can brag about your safeguards all you want, but they didn’t work.”

“So you merely think me incompetent,” she said, her voice icy.

“Which would you prefer?” Master Rufus said, stepping in. “Because it’s one or the other. If Master North won’t say it, I will. It was your job to make sure no one released an elemental from the vaults beneath the Magisterium. And yet one got out and nearly killed a student, one of my apprentices. That’s on you, Tarquin, however you might not like it to be.”

“It’s not possible,” she insisted. “I am telling you — I would never do anything to hurt Callum or Aaron. I would never let a student be put in danger.”

Tamara gave a small snort at being left out of the declaration.

“And yet they were in grave danger,” Master Rufus said. “So help us discover what happened.”

Anastasia slumped back down onto her stool. “Very well.” She reached around her neck and drew a chain from under her shirt. Hanging from it was a large cage … and inside the cage was a bronze key, its bow an alchemical symbol for a crucible. “When I took over guarding the way into the caverns of the deep elementals, I made sure the key never left my side.”

“What about the other one?” Master North asked. “There are two keys. You said you locked the other up. Could anyone have stolen it and then returned it?”

“That’s very unlikely,” Anastasia replied. “You would need to get past three separate locking spells to get into my safe. And the safe itself was brought here with my other possessions. Master Taisuke himself helped me sink it into the stone.”

“What kind of locking spells?” Master Milagros asked.

Anastasia hesitated, then sighed. “I suppose I will have to change them now anyway, even though I judge it very unlikely that anyone could have done what you suggest. Fine. The first safeguard is a password, which must be spoken aloud. And no, I won’t tell it to you. I have told it to no one.”