A hand grabbed at his wrist — Tamara, looking terrified but determined. “Would you STOP?” she demanded, and started trying to drag him back toward the others.

Everything after that happened very fast. Tamara tugged Call back; Call resisted. His weak leg went out from under him and he fell, his elbows jamming painfully into the stony ground. Tamara drew her hand back and made a gesture like she was throwing a baseball. A circle of fire shot from her palm, toward a wolf that was suddenly very close.

The fire exploded along its fur and the wolf howled, baring a mouth full of sharp teeth. But it kept coming — in fact, its fur was now standing on end as if it had been electrified. Its red tongue lolled from its mouth as it stalked closer and closer. It was only feet away from Call, and he struggled to get his legs under him, Tamara reaching down to slide her hands under his arms, trying to haul him up. The Chaos-ridden couldn’t be chased off like a wyvern. They didn’t care about anything but teeth and blood and madness.

“Tamara! Call! Get back here!” Aaron shouted. He sounded scared. The Chaos-ridden wolves were stalking closer, surrounding Call and Tamara, the knot of apprentices forgotten. Alex was in their midst, holding the unconscious Drew. Alex looked frozen, his eyes and mouth wide.

Call staggered to his feet, shoving Tamara behind him. He locked his gaze with the wolf closest to him. The wolf’s eyes still spun, red and gold, the color of fire.

This is it, Call thought. His mind seemed to have slowed down. He felt like he was moving underwater.

My father was right. All along, he was right. We’re going to die here.

He wasn’t angry … but he wasn’t scared, either. Tamara was struggling, trying to pull him backward. But he couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move. The oddest feeling was pulsing through him, like a gathering knot under his ribs. He could feel the strange wristband on his arm throb.

“Tamara,” he breathed. “Go back.”

“No!” She yanked at the back of his shirt. Call stumbled — and the wolf sprang.

Someone — maybe Celia, maybe Jasper — screamed. The wolf leaped through the air, terrible and beautiful, its coat shedding sparks. Call began to raise his hands.

A shadow passed across Call’s vision — someone skidding to a stop between him and the wolf, someone with light hair, someone who planted his feet and thrust out both his arms as if he could hold the wolf back with his hands. Alex, Call thought at first, dizzily, and then, with a cold sense of shock: Aaron.

“No!” he called, jerking forward, but Tamara would not let him go. “Aaron, no!”

The other apprentices were shouting, too, calling to Aaron. Alex had left Drew’s side and was pushing his way toward them.

Aaron didn’t move. His feet were planted so firmly in the ground, it was as if they had taken root there. His hands were up, palms out, and from the centers of his palms spilled something like smoke — it was blacker than black, dense and sinuous, and Call knew, without knowing how, that it was the darkest substance in the world.

With a howl, the wolf contorted its body, twisting aside so that it landed awkwardly on the ground, only feet from Tamara and Call. Its fur stood up all over, its eyes pinwheeling madly. The other wolves howled and whimpered, adding their voices to the madness of the night.

“Aaron, what are you doing?” Tamara said so quietly that Call wasn’t sure Aaron heard her. “Are you doing that?”

But Aaron didn’t seem to hear. Darkness poured from his hands; his hair and shirt were stuck to his body with sweat. The darkness swirled faster, velvety tendrils of it wrapping around the Chaos-ridden pack. The wind picked up, making the trees shudder. The ground shook. The wolves tried to back up, to run, but they were fenced in by darkness — darkness that had become a solid thing, a contracting prison.

Call’s heart was hammering sickly. He felt a sudden pulsing terror at the idea of being trapped inside that darkness, of the nothingness closing in, erasing him, consuming him.

Devouring him.

“Aaron!” he shouted, but the wind was thrashing through the trees now, obliterating sound. “Aaron, stop!”

Call could see the glittering, panicked eyes of the Chaos-ridden wolves. For a moment, they turned toward him, sparks in the darkness. Then the blackness closed around them, and they were gone.

Aaron dropped to his knees as if he’d been shot. He knelt, panting, one hand over his stomach, as the wind dropped away and the ground settled. The apprentices were utterly silent, staring. Alex’s lips were moving, but no words were coming out. Call looked for the wolves, but there were now only roiling masses of darkness dissipating like smoke where they’d been.

“Aaron.” Tamara broke away from Call and ran over to Aaron, bending down to put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, my God, Aaron, Aaron —”

The other apprentices had begun to whisper. “What’s going on?” Rafe said, his voice plaintive. “What happened?”

Tamara was patting Aaron’s back, making soothing noises. Call knew he should join her, but he felt frozen. He couldn’t stop remembering the way Aaron had looked right before the darkness devoured the wolf, the way he’d seemed to be summoning up something, calling something — and that was what had come.

He thought of the Cinquain.

Fire wants to burn, water wants to flow, air wants to rise, earth wants to bind. But chaos, chaos wants to devour.

Call looked back at the confusion of students. In the distance, behind them, he could see darting lights — the glowing orbs of the Masters running toward them. He could hear the sound of their voices. Drew had an odd expression on his face, stoic and a little lost, as though hope had gone out of him. There were tears on his cheeks. Celia locked eyes with Call, looking from him to Aaron, as if asking Call: Is he all right?

Aaron had his face buried in his hands. The pose unlocked Call’s feet; he stumbled the short distance over to his friend and dropped down on his knees beside him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Aaron lifted his face and nodded slowly, still looking stunned.

Tamara met Call’s gaze over Aaron’s head. Her hair had come out of its braids and was tumbling down her shoulders. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so messy. “You don’t understand,” she said to Call in a hushed voice. “Aaron’s what they’ve been looking for. He’s the …”

“I’m still here, you know,” Aaron said in a strained voice.

“Makar,” Tamara finished in a dead whisper.

“I’m not,” Aaron protested. “I can’t be. I don’t know anything about chaos. I don’t have any affinity —”

“Aaron, child.” A gentle voice cut through Aaron’s speech — Call looked up and saw, to his surprise, that it was Master Rufus. The other Masters were there as well, their orbs like fireflies as they darted among the students, checking them for injuries, soothing their fright. Master North had lifted Drew from the ground and was holding him in his arms, the boy’s head to his chest.

“I didn’t mean to —” Aaron started. He looked miserable. “The wolf was there, and then it wasn’t.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong. It would have attacked you if you had not acted.” Master Rufus reached down and gently pulled Aaron to his feet. Call and Tamara stepped back. “You saved lives, Aaron Stewart.”