“Thanks,” Call said, not sure whether he was being scolded or not.

“We sent some mages out to the abandoned bowling alley, but not much remained. Some empty cages and smashed equipment. There was a large room that seemed to be a laboratory. Were you in there?”

Call nodded, swallowing. This was the moment. He opened his mouth to say the words: Master Joseph was there and he told me I am the Enemy of Death.

The words wouldn’t come. It was as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, and everything in his body was willing him to throw himself over, but his mind wouldn’t let him. If he repeated what Joseph had said, Master Rufus would hate him. They’d all hate him.

And for what? Even if he had been Constantine Madden once, it wasn’t like he remembered any of it. He was still Callum, wasn’t he? Still the same person. He hadn’t become evil. He didn’t wish harm to the Magisterium. And what was a soul, anyway? It didn’t tell you what to do. He could make his own decisions.

“Yeah, there was a lab with a lot of bubbling stuff and elementals in the niches that lit the whole place. But no one was there.” Call swallowed, steeling himself to the lie. His heart sped. “The room was empty.”

“Is there anything else?” Master Rufus said, studying Call intently. “Any detail you think might help us? Anything, no matter how small?”

“There were Chaos-ridden,” Call said. “A lot of them. And a chaos elemental. It chased me into the lab, but that’s when Aaron and Tamara broke through the roof, so —”

“Yes, Tamara and Aaron have already told me of their impressive stunt with the signpost.” Master Rufus smiled, but Call could tell he was hiding disappointment. “Thank you, Call. You did very well.”

Call nodded. He had never felt so terrible.

“I remember that when you first came to the Magisterium, you asked me several times if you could talk to Alastair,” Master Rufus said. “I never formally granted your request.” He said it with an emphasis that made Call blush. He wondered if finally, now, of all times, he was going to get in trouble for sneaking into Rufus’s office. “But I’m granting it now.”

He plucked a glass globe off the nightstand and held it out to Call. A small tornado was already spinning inside.

“I believe you know how to use this.” He rose to his feet and walked to the far end of the Infirmary, his hands clasped behind his back. It took a moment for Call to realize what he was doing: giving Call privacy.

Call held the clear glass globe in his hand and studied it. It was as if a huge soap bubble had hardened in midair, leaving it solid and clear. He concentrated on thinking about his dad — blocking out thoughts of Master Joseph and Constantine Madden, and just thinking of his father, of the smell of pancakes and pipe tobacco, of his father’s hand on his shoulder when he did something right, of his father painstakingly explaining geometry, Call’s least favorite subject.

The tornado began to condense and shaped itself into his dad, who was standing in oil-stained jeans and a flannel shirt, his glasses pushed up on his head, a wrench in one hand. He must be in his garage, working on one of his old cars, Call thought. His father looked up as if someone had said his name.

“Call?” he inquired.

“Dad,” Call said. “It’s me.”

His father put the wrench down, which made it vanish out of the image. He turned around, as if he were trying to see Call, though it seemed clear he couldn’t. “Master Rufus told me what happened. I was so worried. You were in the Infirmary —”

“I still am,” Call said, and then added quickly, “but I’m fine. I got a little banged up, but I’m fine.” His voice came out weak, even to his own ears. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I can’t help it,” his dad said gruffly. “I am still your father, even if you are away at school.” He looked around and then back at Call, as if he could see him. “Master Rufus says you saved the Makar. That’s pretty incredible. You did what a whole army couldn’t do for Verity Torres.”

“Aaron’s my friend. I guess we saved him, but it was because of that, not because he’s the Makar. And it’s not like we knew what we were going up against.”

“I’m glad you have friends there, Call.” His dad’s eyes were serious. “It can be hard — to be friends with someone so powerful.”

Call thought of the wristband in the letter from his father, of the thousand unanswered questions he had. You were friends with Constantine Madden? he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t. Not now, and not with Rufus within earshot.

“Rufus also tells me that one of the other Magisterium students was there,” his father continued. “Someone working for the Enemy.”

“Drew — yeah.” Call shook his head. “We didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault. Sometimes, people don’t show their true faces.” His father sighed. “So this student — Drew — was there, but the Enemy wasn’t?”

There is no Enemy. You’ve been fighting a phantom all these years. An illusion Master Joseph wanted you to see. But I can’t tell you that, because if the Enemy isn’t Constantine Madden, then who is he?

“I don’t think we’d have gotten away if he was,” Call said. “I guess we were lucky.”

“And this Drew — he didn’t say anything to you?”

“Like what?”

“Anything about — about you,” his father said cautiously. “It’s just strange, that the Enemy would leave a captured Makar protected only by a schoolboy.”

“There were a lot of Chaos-ridden, too,” said Call. “But no, nobody said anything to me. It was just Drew and the Chaos-ridden, and they don’t talk much.”

“No.” His father almost twitched a smile. “They don’t, do they?” He sighed again. “I miss you around here, Callum.”

“I miss you, too.” Call felt his throat narrow.

“I’ll see you when school’s out,” his dad said.

Call nodded, not trusting his voice, and passed a hand over the surface of the globe. The image of his father vanished. He sat and stared at the device. Now that there was nothing in it, he could see a little of his reflection in the glass. Same black hair, same gray eyes, same slightly pointed nose and chin. Everything familiar. He didn’t look like Constantine Madden. He looked like Callum Hunt.

“I’ll take that,” Rufus said, and plucked the globe from his hand. He was smiling. “You should probably stay here for a day or so, to rest your injuries and heal completely. In the meantime, there are two people who’ve been waiting very patiently to see you.”

Master Rufus strode over to the Infirmary door and threw it open.

Tamara and Aaron rushed in.

Being in the Infirmary when you’d gotten injured being awesome was totally different from being in the Infirmary for doing something dumb. Classmates kept coming to visit him. Everyone wanted to hear the story over and over again, everyone wanted to hear how scary the Chaos-ridden were and how Call had fought a chaos elemental. Everyone wanted to hear about the sign crashing through the roof and laugh at the part where Call passed out.