“You called me a liar,” she said, and the hurt in her voice was unmistakable.

Call squirmed. Havoc looked at him sternly. “I know,” he said.

“And then it turned out that you were an even bigger liar,” she said. “You lied about everything.”

“I lied to protect my dad!”

“You lied to protect yourself,” she snapped. “You could have told us you were the Enemy —”

“Tamara, shut up.”

“Call, I hate to tell you this, but the bathroom is not exactly full of people listening in. It’s just us.”

“I’m not the Enemy of Death.” Call glowered at his reflection in the water. Black hair, gray eyes. Still Callum Hunt. And yet not.

“You could have told us the truth about what Master Joseph said to you, and you didn’t.”

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” Call said. “You’re my best friend.”

Tamara made a dubious noise. “Aaron’s your best friend, liar.”

“You’re my best girl friend,” said Call. “I didn’t want either of you to hate me. I need you both.”

When Tamara spoke again, she sounded less angry. “So I guess what I wanted to tell you is that I don’t want us ever to lie to each other again.”

“But we can still lie to other people?” Call looked at Havoc, who wiggled his ears.

“If it’s important,” Tamara said. “But not to each other and not to Aaron. We only tell each other the truth. Okay?”

“Okay,” Call said, and Havoc barked.

“Call,” said Tamara. “Is there someone in the bathtub with you?”

Call sighed. He hadn’t expected his truth telling to bite him back so quickly. “Havoc,” he admitted.

“Call!” Tamara said. “That is so disgusting.”

Then she started to laugh. After a second, Call was laughing, too.

Once Tamara left and Call finished up his bath, he headed back to his room in his robe and pulled on a uniform. When he reemerged, Aaron was already there, clean, dressed, and eating what looked like a very pale pear.

“What is that?” Call asked him.

Aaron shrugged. “Magic cave fruit. One of the Silver Year apprentice groups grew it. Tastes a little like cheese, but also like an apple. Want one?”

Call made a face. Behind Aaron, he saw that their table had a big pile of the weird fruit, some drinks and candy from the Gallery, and what looked like a few homemade cards. A single eyeless fish floated in a glass bowl.

Aaron followed his gaze. “Yeah, some people were worried about us. Those are ‘get well’ presents, I guess.”

“ ‘Get back here’ presents,” Call said.

Aaron grinned. A few minutes later, Tamara came out of her room. Her hair wasn’t frizzed at all: It was in smooth dark braids, and she’d put them up around her head like a crown. Gold earrings hung from her ears, swinging when she moved. She smiled at Call and when she did, he felt his gut twist. He looked away quickly, without quite knowing why.

“Ready to go to the Refectory?” she asked them.

Aaron took a last bite of the magic cave fruit, folding the core in half and eating it. He glanced down at Havoc, fluffy from the bath. He smelled a little bit like green-tea soap and looked unhappy about it.

“Hey, puffball,” he said.

The Chaos-ridden wolf, striker of terror into the hearts of Iron Year students, looked up with swirling, chagrined eyes. Call reached down to pat his head.

“We’ll get you some sausages in the Refectory,” he promised. “You deserve to celebrate, too.”

They headed out into the hallway, only to find Jasper there waiting for them.

“Uh, hi,” Jasper said. “I was just about to knock on your door. Everyone in my apprentice group is being super weird and staring at me. I mean,” he added, “I am a hero, so I can see how that would be awkward for them.”

“You’re definitely something,” said Aaron.

Jasper shrugged. “Anyway, I didn’t want to go to the Refectory by myself.”

He fell into step with them as they made their way down the hall, chatting to Tamara. It had actually started to feel like Jasper just belonged with them, which seemed like a bad sign to Call. On the other hand, he couldn’t be mean to Jasper when Jasper was, against all odds, keeping his secret.

But sometimes Jasper cut his gaze over and Call wondered if the secret would get too tempting. If Call annoyed him — and Call was absolutely sure that he would eventually annoy Jasper, just as he was sure that Jasper was likely to annoy him — could Jasper continue to keep his mouth shut? If he was trying to impress another student, could he really resist temptation?

Call swallowed down the cold lump in his throat. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

“Tell anyone what?” Jasper asked with a half smile.

There was no way Call was going to say it out loud. “The thing!”

Jasper raised an eyebrow. “So long as it continues to benefit me.”

“We need to agree,” Tamara said firmly. “No one says anything about Call. We don’t know who we can trust around here.”

Jasper didn’t answer her, and there was no way to make him, no way to extort a promise, and even if they were able to make him promise, no reason to believe he would keep his word.

Call was practically in a panic when they arrived in the Refectory. They were late, so it was already full. Smells of grilled onions and barbecue sauce filled the air, although kids were carrying plates piled high with grayish puddings, lichen, and mushrooms. Call’s mouth began to water despite his having just eaten.

After the first few apprentices spotted them, words were murmured and everyone’s heads went up. The whole Refectory fell silent. Call, Tamara, Aaron, and Jasper stood awkwardly in the doorway, feeling the weight of hundreds of eyes on them. People they knew, people they didn’t. Everyone was staring.

Then the room exploded into applause. Students Call didn’t recognize at all were whistling and clapping and standing up on their chairs, chanting and yelling that the war was over.

Master Rufus climbed atop the Masters’ table, looming over them all. He clapped his hands together and an instant silence fell — students were still moving their mouths, still applauding, but nothing was audible but Master Rufus.

“Today we welcome back to the Magisterium four students who have achieved an almost unprecedented victory in the history of the Assembly,” he said. “Jasper deWinter; Tamara Rajavi; our Makar, Aaron Stewart; and our newest chaos magician, Callum Hunt. Please welcome them back.”

The silence spell dissipated just long enough for a deafening roar of applause to sweep through the room.

“The Enemy of Death, he who sought to make himself and his minions immortal, he who would have defeated death itself, has now met death. We have not one but two Makars in this generation of mages. Every student here has contributed in some small way to this. We are truly lucky.”

People whistled and clapped. Across the room, Alex Strike winked at Call from under the fall of his messy brown hair.

“Now, we should remember that while the war is over, we have not yet achieved peace. The Enemy might be gone, but his minions remain. There are battles yet to be fought, and as mages of the Magisterium, it will be your job to fight them.”