The Bronze Key Page 16
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, opening the door more widely. Behind it, they could see a long corridor that sloped downward. Two Collegium-aged boys in uniforms stood against the walls. Guards, Call thought. “What I do know is that you’re not supposed to be down here.”
“Master Rufus wanted us to start a project,” Call began. “Like Tamara said. It’s our Bronze Year and we’re supposed to be figuring out our futures and our personal responsibilities, so we wanted to specialize in elementals. And, uh, we wanted to meet some.”
“All three of you?” Tarquin asked. “Including two chaos magicians? You all want to specialize in elementals?”
“We’re thinking about it,” Aaron said quickly. “We don’t want to rush into anything, but it’s interesting. And we figure if we got to see some of the most amazing elementals around, we’ll be sure one way or another.”
Anastasia Tarquin didn’t look like she believed them for a minute. “I’m afraid that while students might have — infrequently — been given access to the elementals bound here before, that privilege has been suspended for the moment for reasons that I believe you already know.”
Automotones. Call remembered the massive metal monster rearing above them, tearing at the air with fire and claws.
“Now,” said Anastasia, “unless you want me to discuss this with Master Rufus, I suggest you go back the way you came and we will all pretend we didn’t see one another.”
Call looked from Tamara to Aaron.
“So much for riddles,” Aaron said under his breath. Then, unfailingly polite, he turned to Anastasia Tarquin. “We’re sorry to have disturbed you.”
She, however, didn’t seem particularly charmed by him. Her eyes didn’t lose their flinty look.
“Just one moment,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at Aaron. “Callum Hunt. Come inside. I would like to speak with you. Alone.”
“Me?” Call asked, his voice going a little squeaky. He hadn’t expected that, and with all the spy business, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone with any member of the Assembly. But she was Alex’s stepmother, and the Assembly had sent her to protect him. “Okay.”
Tamara and Aaron looked at him mutely. Call was pretty sure they didn’t want to change places right then.
He walked through the door and she closed it behind him with a heavy clang.
Anastasia put one hand on his shoulder. “You must be very worried, to come down here, looking for answers,” she said, her voice softening in a way that made him nervous. He thought of the way snakes he’d seen on television did a little dance before they struck. “And I know how close you are to Aaron. You two look out for each other, don’t you?”
“Yeah?” Call said. “I mean, yes. Aaron and Tamara and I. We all do.”
“It’s so good to have close friends,” she agreed, nodding. “Especially when you have a parent who doesn’t approve of magic.”
“Alastair’s coming around,” Call said, trying to guess what this was about.
“When I married Alex’s father, I swore I would never try to replace his mother. I had my own children from my first marriage and I knew how important it was not to try and impose myself where I wasn’t wanted. I tried to be a friend, a guide, and a mentor. Someone who could answer his questions straightforwardly, as so many adults don’t. I would be happy to do that for you as well, if you ever need someone to talk to.”
“Uh, okay,” said Call, puzzled by the whole conversation. He tried to glance past Anastasia a little, see what was hidden behind her. The two Collegium guards were completely silent, ranged along the wall of the room like suits of armor. There was a sofa with a newspaper on it, probably where she’d been sitting, and a corridor that stretched away behind. A deep red glow illuminated its walls. “So, you’re definitely not going to let us in?”
Anastasia looked amused rather than angry. “You want me to say I would if I could, I imagine. But you have no idea how dangerous the great elementals are. It would be like tossing you into the mouth of a volcano. A friend would never put you in danger, Callum, do you understand?”
“Because I’m a Makar,” Call said. “I get it, but —”
“No buts.” Anastasia shook her head. “You and Aaron should go back to sleep. You are far too important to risk yourselves. Try to remember that.”
With that, she opened the door. When Call stepped out to where Aaron and Tamara were waiting, he heard the door slam behind him.
YOU WENT WITHOUT me?” Jasper demanded, fork stabbing into the gray pudding on his plate.
It was afternoon. Call, Tamara, and Aaron had all slept through breakfast after their adventure in the tunnels the night before. Call had felt achy and fuzzy-headed through their lesson, nearly dropping a ball of fire on Tamara’s head and singeing his own fingers. He’d forgotten to walk Havoc until halfway through class and had to clean up the resultant mess. Being back at school wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped it would be.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” Call said in a conciliatory manner. Then remembered to whom he was talking. “I mean, not that I would ever choose to bring you anywhere, but in this case, leaving you out of it was just a side benefit.”
“Hey,” Jasper said. “I am trying to save your life!”
“Don’t mind him,” Aaron interrupted. “He gets snappish when he’s tired.”
“So what did Anastasia do to you?” Jasper said. “My father always told me that she was some kind of stone-cold ice queen.”
“She was really nice to Call,” Tamara said. “It was weird. She had no time for me and barely looked at Aaron. It was all Call, Call, Call.”
“I guess I’m the new-news Makar, you’re the old-news Makar,” Call said to Aaron. “I make this blue uniform look good.”
Tamara laughed. Aaron sighed with deep resignation.
“Wow,” Jasper said, looking at Call with wide eyes. “You didn’t tell me he got delusional when he was tired.”
Call took a deep drink of the brown tea-like substance in his wooden cup. He hoped desperately that it had caffeine in it. All summer he’d been able to indulge in as many espressos as he wanted — Alastair had repaired an old deco-style Gaggia machine that chugged like a train — but now that he really needed it, there was no coffee in sight.
He was tired. Tired of being watched by his friends, even if it was because they were trying to keep him safe. Tired of having a horrible thing about himself — a thing he had no control over — hanging over his head. He wanted to go to school like a normal person, and right then he was willing to do anything to make that happen.
“Okay,” he said. “I will do your stupid plan.”
“What?” asked Jasper, frowning at him. “Which stupid plan?”
With a slight wince, Call climbed up onto his chair, then from his chair onto the top of their table. He stood with his foot narrowly avoiding landing in Jasper’s gray pudding, and surveyed the room.
“Oh no,” Aaron said. “I think you were right about him getting delusional with tiredness.”