He vanished into the corridor. Aaron opened up the note as the door shut. His eyebrows drew down as he looked at it. “It’s from Anastasia Tarquin,” he said. “She’s asking us to meet her at the Mission Gate at ten to midnight on Friday. She says to bring Havoc.”

“That’s the same day as our test,” Tamara said, sitting upright. “What does she want to talk about?”

“I don’t think she wants to talk,” Aaron said, still looking at the paper. “I think that’s when we’re going to do it. That’s when we’re going to steal the Chaos-ridden animals.”

THERE WERE FOUR days before Friday, and Call, Aaron, and Tamara spent them alternately worried about Alma’s plan and the test. Master Rufus kept saying cryptic things during classes and assigning them bizarre coursework. That week, Call had learned how to (a) catch fire Tamara had thrown at him, (b) breathe after Aaron used air magic to choke off his oxygen, and (c) dry his clothes after Master Rufus got him really wet. The last part, unfortunately, had not been done with magic.

It didn’t help that everyone was moody. Tamara kept looking into flickering candle flames and fireplaces, as though she might see the face of her sister there. Aaron kept looking around the Refectory like he was waiting for everyone to throw their food at him. And Call kept jumping at shadows. It was getting so bad that he was freaking out Havoc.

It didn’t help that Jasper continued to be useless in the rumor department. According to Celia, Drew hadn’t had many friends. He’d kept to himself, occasionally trailing after some older students for advice on how to deal with Master Lemuel. Alex Strike had, apparently, told Drew that he should go to Master North, but he hadn’t. Probably his orders had been to lay low, not to go complaining to the head of the school.

As for the person who’d started the rumors about Aaron, Jasper didn’t know anything yet. He promised to have more information by the end of the week.

By the time Thursday night rolled around, Call was just ready for Friday — no matter how bad it was — to happen. Anything to be closer to some answers. But at the Refectory, Master Rufus told them they were going to have a late-night lesson, as Alma had returned.

“Tamara, it’s a lesson in chaos magic, so —” he began, but she cut him off.

“I want to watch,” she said. “It’ll be interesting. Not that many people get to see chaos magic in person and I’ve seen a lot of it. I want to know more about how it works.”

He nodded, although he didn’t look entirely happy. Of course, Master Rufus’s resting expression was usually a gloomy one, so maybe that didn’t mean anything.

After finishing up their lichen and mushrooms and cloudy gray underground smoothies, they gathered in the usual classroom. Master Rufus paced back and forth. Alma leaned on a short staff and spoke. “As you know, the opposite of chaos, or void, magic is the soul. In the last lesson, you learned to see a soul. Now I want you to learn to touch another person’s soul with your magic — a brief tap is all.”

“I believe I previously stated my objection to doing this,” Call said. “It’s creepy and weird and we don’t even know what it does to the other person.”

Alma gave a long-suffering sigh. “As I said before, you’re rendering them unconscious. Nothing else. But if you are too squeamish, then I suggest that Aaron start. He can practice on you.”

“I, uh —” Call began.

Tamara got up from where she’d been sitting, against a rock wall. “I’ll do it.”

“You can’t!” Call said. “Also, what is the deal with everyone wanting to knock me out?”

“It must be something about your face,” Tamara said, shaking her head as though he was being even more ridiculous than usual. “But what I actually meant was that I’ll let Aaron practice on me. I volunteer to be soul-tapped.”

Aaron gave her a dubious look. “Why? I don’t want to hurt you!”

She shrugged. “I want to know how it works and maybe I won’t be able to tell much, but maybe I will. And since you’re worried about it hurting, I can tell you.”

Call hesitated. He felt stupid for objecting to the whole thing. Learning how to tap people into sleep was pretty awesome, so long as it didn’t scramble their souls. If someone was annoying him, a little soul tap would take care of that. He could make Jasper pass out constantly.

“Fine, fine,” Call said. “Teach me how to do it, too.”

Tamara gave him a dirty look, but Alma was all smiles. “It’s easy,” she told him.

It wasn’t. Alma understood the theory but had never done it herself, and the last time she’d had a Makar to experiment with was almost two decades before. According to her, the act took a massive amount of focus, first to see a soul and then to reach out the thinnest sliver of chaos magic to touch it.

Call got paired with Alma, much to his annoyance, while Aaron got Tamara. The idea of touching the soul of someone he barely knew made him feel cold and shuddery and strange.

He had to try, though. He closed his eyes and tried to do what she said, tried to see her soul like he’d seen Aaron’s. But it wasn’t the same. Aaron was one of his best friends. This was like playing hide-and-seek when everything was dark, grabbing around randomly. But he caught hold of her soul without quite meaning to. He wasn’t just tapping it; he could feel the silver length of it wriggling like a fish out of water. He had the impression of iron will and enormous sadness and sudden terror, before he pulled his thoughts away from her. Gasping, he opened his eyes just in time to see hers roll up in her head.

She collapsed onto the pile of pillows that Master Rufus had conjured from some other area of the Magisterium.

He glanced over to see Aaron catch Tamara in his arms as she swooned gracefully. Aaron held her for a moment before her eyes fluttered open and she laughed and straightened up, grinning at Aaron.

Rufus had hurried to Alma’s side. “She’s still unconscious,” he said. “But she’s all right.” He looked grim. “Good work, everyone.”

Call had done it. He had tapped someone’s soul. He just didn’t feel good about it. Not at all.

Friday dawned. Callum was awoken by Havoc licking his bare feet, which was gross and also tickled. Call twisted around, still half-asleep, trying to protect his toes by scooting them under the covers. But that just made Havoc leap onto the bed and lick his face.

“Off — murpf — come on!” Call sputtered, covering his head with one hand and pushing the wolf back with another. Sometimes knowing where Havoc’s tongue had been was worse than not knowing.

Pulling on his uniform, still drowsy, he wondered if he could soul-tap Havoc back to sleep for another fifteen minutes, but then he decided what with him being Chaos-ridden and all, probably enough had been done to Havoc’s soul.

Call padded into the common room and banged on Tamara’s door. It was her turn to accompany him on morning walks. A groan came from inside and a few minutes later she opened the door, looking as bleary-eyed as he felt, wearing her purple armband. That reminded Call to go back for his. They staggered out into the hall, holding a leash no one had bothered to attach to Havoc.