Tamara was the only one of the three of them who went to the Refectory for dinner that night. She brought back food for Call and Aaron — a tray piled with lichen, mushrooms, tubers, and the purple pudding Call liked.

“How was it?” Aaron asked.

She shrugged. “Fine, I guess.” Tamara could lie pretty well, so Call had his eye on her, ready to believe that no matter what she actually said, the truth was much worse. “Everyone had questions, but that was it.”

“What kind of questions?” Call asked. “Like, am I crazy? Am I going evil?”

“Don’t be paranoid,” Tamara said.

“Yeah, they probably think I’m the crazy one,” Aaron put in with a sigh. The weirdest part was that Call had to acknowledge that this was probably true. Even though Aaron had saved everyone — from Call, which made him recollect his Evil Overlord list of last year, because almost murdering all the Copper Year apprentice groups would have gotten him mad points — his use of chaos magic had probably still scared them.

“This is almost over,” Tamara told them. “We’re going to help Alma and she’s going to get Jennifer to … okay, I don’t know what she’s going to do exactly. But we’re going to know who killed Jennifer and that means we’re going to know who’s after you. So eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”

“So who won?” Call asked.

“What?” Tamara looked flummoxed. “What do you mean?”

“Who won the test?” Call repeated. “Who gets to go to the Gallery? Like, did they pick the person who was closest to the center or did they decide to give up on the whole thing?”

“We get to go,” she said slowly, as though she was trying to be very sympathetic to someone to whom she was giving bad news. “You won, Call.”

“Oh,” he said. He wasn’t sure how to take the news. No one had congratulated him at the time. Master North had come roaring over the empty fire to shake Call’s shoulders and demand to know what he’d been thinking. When Call showed him the empty canteen with the hole in the bottom, though, his expression had gone shuttered and strange.

Master Rufus had looked around coldly, as though thinking about what he might do to the culprit. Call knew how that felt, although it worried him that for a moment Master Rufus’s gaze seemed to have settled on Anastasia.

Sometimes when Call looked around the Refectory, he thought it was impossible that a person who wanted to kill him could blend in with everyone else.

“Tamara’s right,” Aaron said, lifting a large forkful of lichen. “We need to rest and get ready for tonight. We already used enough magic that I need a nap or I am going to fall asleep with my arms around a Chaos-ridden bear and get eaten.”

Call, who fell asleep with his arms around a Chaos-ridden wolf a lot of the time, snickered. Then he dug into the food. He and Aaron polished it off in very little time. By then, he was feeling drowsy, too, and light-headed, and as though his skin wasn’t quite his own. He remembered Aaron being sick and passing out after large expenditures of chaos magic, but he’d never felt this way before. He lurched up and went to lie down.

When he woke, tangled in his sheets, his uniform and boots still on, he couldn’t even remember hitting the bed. Outside the door were voices. The summons must have come.

Call pushed himself to his feet and went out into the common room.

Alex was sitting on their couch, talking to Tamara. Both of them were dressed in black, like ninjas. Alex’s brown hair was half-concealed under a dark cap, and Tamara was wearing an oversize black sweater and leggings. Her hair was in glossy braids tied with black bows. Alex was smiling at her in a new way, a way that Call had only previously seen him smile at Kimiya.

Call didn’t like it.

“My stepmother sent me to help,” Alex said, turning to Call. “Are you sure you want to do this? This whole — midnight caper? This is serious stuff.”

“I didn’t actually know you were going to be involved,” Call said, and Alex blinked a little, as if surprised by Call’s tone. Tamara gave Call a reproachful look.

“He’s Anastasia’s stepson,” she pointed out. “And he’s an air mage. We could use him.”

Aaron came into the room, also dressed in black, though he hadn’t covered his bright hair. He nodded at Call. “We let you sleep as long as we could.”

“That was some pretty serious chaos magic you laid down at the test today,” Alex said. “I can see I’m going to have a hard time keeping up with you two.”

Call and Aaron exchanged a look. It was a look that said that neither of them were exactly looking forward to being called on to use their Makar powers again. Call felt completely tapped out.

“You’d better go change into something dark,” Alex added. “We don’t want to be seen by the highway.”

Call went back to his room and changed into black jeans and the darkest sweater he could find, which was navy. Almost as an afterthought, he took Miri from her place on his nightstand and slid her through the belt of his jeans. Then he woke up Havoc, who was asleep on the bed with his tongue lolling on the comforter.

“Come on, boy,” Call said. “Time for an adventure.”

When he went back into the living room, Havoc bounding at his heels, the others were waiting for him. Alex opened the door to leave. With a look back at Call, Tamara followed.

Call stepped out into the corridor and glanced around in surprise. Everything was ordinary — the rock walls of the hall, the path stretching away on either side — but there was a strange shimmer in the air, as if it were vibrating around them.

“Camouflage,” Alex said in a low voice. He had his right hand up, his fingers making a series of complicated movements, as if he were playing the piano. “Changing the molecular makeup of the surrounding air makes it harder for people to see us as we go by.”

Call looked at Tamara with a raised eyebrow, as if for confirmation. She shrugged, but was clearly impressed. Which was also annoying — if anyone had done any impressive magic that day, it was definitely Call.

Though he probably shouldn’t think about it that way.

He couldn’t help wondering if Aaron was thinking the same thing, though, since a second later a coal of fire bloomed from Aaron’s palm, illuminating their way. “Let’s go,” he said. “Out through the Mission Gate?”