Aaron drew in a ragged breath. He seemed to be trying to pull himself together. “They’re all staring at me — all the other students,” he said under his breath.

Call turned to look, but his gaze was suddenly blocked by the appearance of two Masters. Master Tanaka and a woman he’d seen once before with a group of Gold Year students, but whose name he didn’t know.

“They are staring at you because you are the Makar,” the female mage said, her eyes on Aaron. “Because you can wield the power of chaos.”

Aaron didn’t say anything. He looked as though he’d been unexpectedly slapped in the face.

“We have been waiting for you, Aaron,” said Master Tanaka. “You have no idea how long.”

Aaron was tensing up, looking ready to bolt. Leave him alone, Call wanted to say. Can’t you see you’re freaking him out? Aaron had been right: Everyone was staring at them now — the other kids, huddled together, their Masters. Even Lemuel and Milagros looked away from their apprentices long enough to stare at Aaron. Only Rockmaple was gone — returned to the Magisterium to care for Drew, Call assumed.

Rufus laid a protective hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “Haru,” he said, nodding at Master Tanaka. “And, Sarita. Thank you for your kind words.”

He didn’t sound particularly grateful.

“Congratulations,” said Master Tanaka. “To have a Makar as an apprentice … every Master’s dream.” He sounded pretty bitter, and Call wondered if he was mad about that whole choosing-first thing back at the Trial. “He must come with us. The Masters must speak to him….”

“No!” Tamara said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth, as if surprised at her own outburst. “I just mean …”

“It has been a stressful day for the students, especially Aaron,” Rufus said to the two Masters. “These apprentices, most of them Iron Years, were just attacked by a pack of Chaos-ridden wolves. Can the boy go back to his own bed?”

The woman he’d called Sarita shook her head. “We can’t have an uncontrolled chaos mage wandering around without any understanding of his own powers.” She did actually sound regretful. “The area has been thoroughly swept, Rufus. Whatever happened with this pack of wolves, it was an anomaly. The greatest danger to Aaron right now, and to all the other students, is Aaron.”

She held out her hand.

Aaron looked up at Rufus, waiting for permission. Rufus nodded, looking tired. “Go with them,” he said. Then he stepped back. Master Tanaka made a beckoning gesture, and Aaron walked over to him. With both of the Masters flanking him, he walked toward the Magisterium, stopping only once to look back at Call and Tamara.

Call couldn’t help but think he looked very small.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AS SOON AS Aaron disappeared, the rest of the Masters began herding the remaining apprentices into rows of lines, with the Iron Years at the center and the older students toward the outside. Tamara and Call stood a little distance away, watching everyone else rush around. Call wondered if she was feeling the same way he was — the idea of ever finding the Makar everyone was looking for had seemed like a distant, impossible thing, and now Aaron, their friend Aaron, was the one. Call looked back toward where the wolves had been before Aaron had sent them spinning into the void, but the only sign of them was the prints of their huge paws in the snow. The marks still glowed with a faint, discrete light, as if each print had been made with fire and still kept some of that fire deep inside it.

While Call stared, something small darted between the trees like a shifting shadow. He scowled, trying to see better, but there were no more movements. Whatever it was had either gone or never been there. He shuddered, remembering the huge something he had felt brush by him while was running to Drew. Recent events had made him hyperaware of every stray breeze. Maybe he was imagining things.

Master Milagros detached herself from the group of apprentices, now herded into something approximating order, and walked over to Tamara and Call, her expression kind. “We need to start back now. It’s unlikely that there are more Chaos-ridden out there, but we can’t be sure. It’s best if we hurry.”

Tamara nodded, looking more subdued than Call could remember seeing her, and began trudging through the snow. Joining the other Iron Year apprentices at the group’s center, they began the trek back to the Magisterium. The Masters had taken up posts around the very outside of the group, their glowing orbs casting shards of light through the dawn. Celia, Gwenda, and Jasper were walking along with Rafe and Kai. Jasper had placed his fur-lined coat over Drew when he was lying on the ground, an uncharacteristically nice gesture on his part, and one that had left him shivering in the icy morning air.

“Did Drew say why he left?” Celia asked Call. “You were down there with him before Alex got there. What did he say to you?”

Call shook his head. He wasn’t sure if it was a secret.

“You can tell us,” said Celia. “We won’t laugh at him or be jerks.”

Gwenda glanced at Jasper and raised her eyebrows. “Most of us won’t, anyway.”

Jasper cut his eyes toward Tamara, but she didn’t say a thing.

Even though Jasper was almost always a jerk, in that moment, remembering what good friends Tamara and Jasper had been at the Iron Trial, Call felt bad for him. He thought of the time he’d seen Jasper in the Library, straining to make a flame spark, and the way Jasper had snapped at him to leave. Call wondered if Jasper had thought of running away like Drew had.

He remembered Jasper’s words: Only cowards leave the Magisterium. Then he stopped feeling bad.

“He told me that Master Lemuel was too hard on him,” Call said. “That he performed better under stress, so Lemuel was always trying to scare him into being better.”

“Master Lemuel does that kind of thing to all of us — jumping out from behind walls, shouting things, and doing middle-of-the-night training,” Rafe said. “He isn’t trying to be mean. He’s trying to prepare us.”

“Right,” said Call, thinking of Drew’s bitten nails and haunted eyes. “Drew ran away for no reason. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be chased through the snow by packs of Chaos-ridden wolves if they got the chance?”

“Maybe you didn’t know how bad it was, Rafe,” said Tamara, looking troubled. “Since Master Lemuel isn’t that way with you.”

“Drew’s lying,” Rafe insisted.

“He said that Master Lemuel wouldn’t let him eat,” Call told them. “And he does look skinnier.”

“What?” Rafe demanded. “That didn’t happen. You saw him in the Refectory with the rest of us. And anyway, Drew never told me any of this. He would have said something.”

Call shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t think you’d believe him. It looks like he was right.”

“I wouldn’t — I don’t —” Rafe glanced around at the others, but they looked away uncomfortably.

“Master Lemuel isn’t nice,” Gwenda said. “Maybe Drew didn’t think he had any choice but running away.”

“That’s not how Masters are supposed to act,” Celia said. “He should have told Master North. Or someone.”