“But what about him!” Jasper objected. “He makes snide comments all the time.”

Tamara looked from Call to Jasper. She sighed. “How about if you both stop making snide comments.”

“Never!” Call said.

Tamara rolled her eyes and followed Jasper down the hallway, promising Call she’d see him at dinner.

Which left Call all alone in his room with a squirming, Chaos-ridden puppy. Lifting the wolf and tucking it back into his coat, despite a few yipping protests, Call made for the Mission Gate, going as fast as he could without his leg giving him trouble. He was afraid the door to the outside of the cave would be locked, but it turned out to be easy to open from the inside. The doors of the metal gate were closed, but Call didn’t need to go that far. Hoping no one could see, Call let the wolf out of his jacket. It slunk around, looking at the metal nervously and sniffing the air before finally peeing on a frozen clump of weeds.

Call gave him a few more moments before he swept the wolf back up under his coat.

“Come on,” he told the pup. “We’ve got to get back before anyone sees us. And before someone throws away the leftovers from breakfast.”

Back through the halls he went, hunching over when he passed other apprentices so they wouldn’t notice the shifting shape under his coat. He barely made it back to the room before the wolf leaped free. Then it made itself at home by knocking over the trash and eating the remains of Tamara’s breakfast out of it.

Finally, Call managed to corral the wolf back into his room, where he brought it a bowl of water, two raw eggs, and a single cold sausage that had been left out on the counter. The wolf gobbled the food down, shells and all. Then they played a game of tug-of-war with one of the blankets from the bed.

Just as Call yanked the blanket free and the wolf pounced again, Call heard the outer door open. Someone came into their common room. He paused, trying to figure out if Tamara had once again realized Jasper was a jerk and had come back early, or if Aaron had returned. In that silence, he heard the distinct sound of something being thrown against a wall. The wolf hopped off the bed and slunk under it, whining softly.

Call padded to his door. Opening it, he saw Aaron sitting on the couch, taking off one of his boots. The other boot was on the far side of the room. There was a dirt mark on the wall where it had hit.

“Um, are you okay?” Call asked.

Aaron looked surprised to see him. “I didn’t think either of you were here.”

Call cleared his throat. He felt weirdly awkward. He wondered if Aaron would stay here with them now that he was the Makar or would be taken to some kind of fancy private hero-who-has-to-save-the-world digs. “Well, Tamara went off with Jasper somewhere. I guess they’re friends again.”

“Whatever,” said Aaron, without much interest. It was the sort of thing that normally he would have wanted to talk about. There were other things Call wanted to talk to Aaron about, too, like the wolf, and Tamara’s parents’ weird behavior, and the black stone in Aaron’s wristband, and what that meant about the band Call’s father had sent Rufus, but Call wasn’t sure how to start. Or if he should.

“So,” he said, “you must be really excited about all this … chaos magic stuff.”

“Sure,” Aaron replied. “I’m thrilled.”

Call knew sarcasm when he heard it. For a moment, he couldn’t quite believe it was coming from Aaron. But there Aaron was, staring at his boot, his jaw set. He was definitely upset.

“Do you want me to leave you alone so you can throw your other boot?” Call asked.

Aaron took a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just don’t know if I want to be a Makar.”

Call was so surprised that for a moment he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Why not?” he finally blurted out. Aaron was perfect for the role. He was exactly what everyone thought a hero should be like — nice, brave, and into doing hero stuff like running straight at a Chaos-ridden wolf pack instead of running away like a normal, sane person.

“You don’t understand,” said Aaron. “Everyone is acting like this is great news, but it’s not great for me. The last Makar died at age fifteen, and, fine, she pushed back the war and made the Treaty happen, but she still died. And she died horribly.”

Which went with everything Call’s father had ever said about the mages.

“You’re not going to die,” Call told Aaron firmly. “Verity Torres died in a battle, a big battle. You’re at the Magisterium. The Masters won’t let you die.”

“You don’t know that,” said Aaron.

That’s why your mother died. Because of magic, said Call’s dad’s voice in his head.

“Okay, fine. Then you should run away,” Call suggested abruptly.

Aaron’s head snapped up. That had gotten his attention. “I’m not going to run away!”

“Well, you could,” Call said.

“No, I couldn’t.” Aaron’s green eyes were blazing; he looked really angry now. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“What do you mean?” Call asked, but in the back of his head, he knew, or guessed: Aaron never talked about his family, never said anything about his home life….

“Don’t you notice anything?” Aaron demanded. “Didn’t you wonder where my parents were at the Trial? I don’t have any. My mom’s dead, my dad ran off. I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since I was two. I come from a foster home. More than one. They’d get bored with keeping me, or the checks from the government wouldn’t be enough, and they’d push me on to the next home. I met the girl who told me about the Magisterium in my last foster home. She was someone I could talk to — until her brother graduated from here and took her away. At least you’ve always had your dad. Being at the Magisterium is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Call mumbled. “I didn’t know.”

“After she told me about the Magisterium, coming here became my dream,” Aaron said. “My only chance. I knew I’d have to pay the Magisterium back for all the good things it’s done for me,” he added quietly. “I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“That’s a horrible thing to think,” Call said. “You don’t owe anybody your whole life.”

“Sure I do,” said Aaron, and Call knew he would never be able to convince Aaron it wasn’t true. He thought of Aaron up there on the podium, with everyone applauding, getting told he was everyone’s only chance. For someone as nice as Aaron, there was no way he was going to push that off on somebody else, even if he could. That was what made him a hero. They had him right where they wanted him.

And since Call was his friend — whether Aaron wanted him to be or not — he was going to make sure they didn’t make him do anything stupid.

“And it’s not just me,” Aaron said tiredly. “I’m a chaos magician. I’ll need a counterweight. A human counterweight. Who’s going to volunteer for that?”

“It’s an honor,” Call said. “To be the counterweight for a Makar.” He knew that much, at least. It had been part of Tamara’s excited babbling.