Call felt a hand brush his shoulder. It was Anastasia Tarquin. “In Europe,” she said, “when they discover someone is a chaos mage, they don’t celebrate them. They kill them.”

Call turned to stare at her in shock, but she was already moving away through the crowd of Assembly members. Master Rufus, who clearly hadn’t heard her — no one had but Call — came forward toward Aaron and Call. “Makars,” he said. “This isn’t just a celebration. We have something to discuss.”

“Right here?” Aaron asked, clearly startled.

Rufus shook his head. “It’s time for you to see something very few apprentices ever see. The War Room. Come with me.”

Tamara looked after Aaron and Call worriedly as they were led away through the crowd. “The War Room?” Aaron muttered. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Call whispered back. “I thought the war was over.”

Master Rufus led them expertly behind the floating ropes, avoiding the eyes of the crowd, until they reached a door set into the far wall. It was a bronze door, carved with the shapes of tall ships sailing, cannons, and explosions over the sea.

Rufus pushed the door open, and they entered the War Room. Call’s words about why there were no windows echoed in his own head — because there were plenty of windows here. There was a marble floor, but every other surface was glass, and the glass glowed with enchanted light. Beyond the glass Call could see sea creatures swimming by: fish with brightly colored stripes, sharks with coal-black eyes, graceful flapping rays.

“Whoa,” said Aaron, craning his neck. “Look up.”

Call did and saw the water above them, glowing with the light of the surface. A school of silvery fish shot by and then pivoted according to some unseen signal, all of them racing off in the new direction.

“Sit,” Assemblyman Graves — old, grumpy, and mean — said. “We realize this is a celebration, but there are things we must discuss. Master Rufus, you and your two apprentices should sit here.” He indicated chairs beside him.

Call and Aaron exchanged a reluctant glance before shuffling over to take their seats. The rest of the Assembly members were arranging themselves around the table, making small talk. Above them, visible beyond the glass, an eel ribboned its way through the sea and snapped up a slow-moving fish. Call wondered if it was an ominous sign.

Once the room had quieted down, Graves resumed speaking. “Thanks to the efforts of our honorees this evening, we are having a very different discussion than we could have anticipated having. Constantine Madden is dead.” He looked around the room as if waiting for that information to sink in. Call couldn’t help feeling that if it hadn’t sunk in yet, it never would, given how many times The Enemy of Death is dead! had been repeated during the honoring ceremony. “And yet” — Graves slammed his hand down on the table, making Call jump — “we cannot rest! Constantine Madden might be defeated, but his army is still out there. We must strike now and root out the Chaos-ridden and all of Constantine’s allies.”

A murmur went around the room. “No one has been able to detect any sign of the Chaos-ridden since Madden’s death,” said Master North. “It’s as if they disappeared when he died.”

Several mages looked hopeful at this, but Graves only shook his head grimly. “They are out there somewhere. We must assemble teams to hunt them down and destroy them.”

Call felt a little queasy. The Chaos-ridden were basically mindless zombies, all their humanity pushed out to make room for chaos. But he’d heard them speak. Seen them move, even kneel to him. The idea of a pyre of their burning bodies made his stomach turn.

“What about Chaos-ridden animals?” asked Anastasia Tarquin. “Most of them never served the Enemy of Death; they’re the descendants of the unfortunate creatures that did. Unlike the Chaos-ridden people, they’re alive, not reanimated bodies.”

“Still, they’re dangerous. I move that we exterminate them all,” Graves said.

“Not Havoc!” Call yelled before anyone could stop him.

The members of the Assembly turned in his direction. Anastasia had a small smile on her face, as though she’d enjoyed his outburst. She seemed like someone who didn’t mind when things didn’t go the way everyone else expected. Her gaze slid to Aaron, gauging his reaction.

“The pet of the Makaris,” she said, looking back at Call. “Surely Havoc can be exempted.”

“And the Order of Disorder has been studying other Chaos-ridden beasts. Keeping some alive for their research has value,” added Rufus.

The Order of Disorder was a small group of rebellious mages who lived in the woods just outside the Magisterium, studying chaos magic. Call wasn’t sure what he thought of them. They’d tried to force Aaron to stay and help with their chaos experiments. They hadn’t been nice about it, either.

“Yes, yes,” said Graves dismissively. “Perhaps a small number can be saved, although I have never much cared for the Order of Disorder, as you well know. We need to keep an eye on them, to be sure that none of Constantine’s conspirators are hiding out among them. And we need to find Master Joseph. We cannot forget that he’s still dangerous and will almost certainly attempt to use the Alkahest against us.”

Anastasia Tarquin made a small note on a paper. Several other mages murmured among themselves; quite a few were sitting up straight, trying to make themselves look important. Master Rufus was nodding, but Call suspected he didn’t much like Graves, either.

“Lastly, we must make sure that Callum Hunt and Aaron Stewart use their Makar abilities in the service of the Assembly and the larger mage community. Master Rufus, it is going to be integral that you report regularly on their teaching as they move into their Bronze, Silver, and Gold Years, readying themselves to go to the Collegium.”

“They are my apprentices.” Master Rufus raised a single brow. “I need to have independence to teach them as I see fit.”

“We can discuss that later,” said Graves. “They are Makars before they are students of the Magisterium. It would be well for both you and them to remember that.”

Aaron shot Call a worried glance. Master Rufus looked grim.

Graves went on. “Due to the Magisterium’s proximity to the largest number of Chaos-ridden animals, we’re going to expect the school to take point on their destruction.”

“You can’t possibly expect the students of the Magisterium to spend their school time murdering animals,” protested Master Rufus, rising to his feet. “I object strongly to this suggestion. Master North?”

“I agree with Rufus,” said Master North, after a pause.

“They’re not animals. They’re monsters,” Graves argued. “The woods around the Magisterium have been full of them for years, and we haven’t treated the situation with the seriousness that we could, because the Enemy could always have made more. But now — now we have a chance to exterminate them.”

“They may be monsters,” said Rufus, “but they look like animals. And there are those, like Havoc, who give us all pause and reason to wonder if they might be saved rather than destroyed. Surely it is in the interests of the whole mage world for our students to learn mercy. Constantine Madden,” he added, in a low voice, “never did.”