Constantine Madden was charming, Tamara had said.

The door opened and Master North came in. “The Assembly will see you now,” he said.

Be charming, Call told himself. If you’re Constantine, then make something useful out of it. Be charming.

They all got to their feet and followed Master North down the copper corridor and through an archway into a massive circular room. Call had been there before but hid his start of recognition — he’d been sneaking around the Magisterium when he’d happened upon a mage meeting here. Now probably wasn’t the time to bring up the fact that he’d eavesdropped.

Jewels decorated the cavern’s walls, formed into the shapes of constellations. The center of the room was dominated by a massive circular wooden table with a hollow core. It looked as though it was made from a slice of tree trunk, but the tree would have to have been enormous — bigger than the biggest redwood. Call couldn’t help wanting to run his fingers over the surface of it.

Around one side of it sat Assembly members in their olive green suits, alternating with the mages of the Magisterium in black. They looked like a set of chess pieces.

Master North gestured with his hand, and a section of the table lifted away like a slice of cake being cut out. He gestured for Call and the others to walk through the gap in the circle. After a moment’s hesitation, Alastair went first and the kids followed him. The moment the last of them — Jasper — was inside the circle formed by the table, the section that had been lifted away slammed back into place. Call and his friends were trapped inside the circle of the table, completely surrounded by the Assembly.

Call looked around at the adults’ smug faces. Well, maybe they didn’t all look smug. Master Rufus, Master North, Master Rockmaple, and Master Milagros looked tense, and Tamara’s parents seemed worried. Other than the teachers and the Rajavis, the only Assembly member Call recognized was Alex’s stepmother, Mrs. Tarquin. She sat looking regal as a queen, her silver hair piled on top of her head. No one introduced themselves.

“Where to even begin,” said an elderly man in an Assembly uniform. “Never since Constantine Madden have we had such a disruption, such a blow to the Magisterium and all that it stands for, as we have had this past week.”

“Hurting the Magisterium was never our intention,” said Tamara.

“Really?” The old man leaped on her statement like a cat on a mouse. “Do you know how demoralizing it is to the other apprentices to hear that our Makar has run away from the Magisterium? Did that occur to you, Aaron Stewart?”

“I didn’t run away, Assemblyman Graves,” Aaron said, standing up straight. He was still wearing the outfit he’d gotten from the thrift shop, though it was covered in dirt and blood now. He was a thirteen-year-old kid and his stupid haircut had grown out some, but when he spoke, everyone looked at him. Call could see the expressions of the Assembly members softening. They wanted to listen to Aaron. That was what Constantine had possessed; that was what Tamara meant when she said charming. “This summer, I talked to many members of this Assembly and many mages in the community. All of them stressed to me that I was the only weapon that would stop the Enemy. Well, it seems to me that I owe it to everyone to make sure I don’t hide away in the Magisterium when I’m needed.”

There was a brief silence, and Graves cleared his throat. “Your enthusiasm is admirable, but if you really did think you were needed to take down Alastair Hunt, why did you not deal with him when you caught up to him? Why is he still with you?”

A flame of anger lit in Call’s chest.

“It’s not like that,” Tamara said. “You have to hear the whole story.”