The Bronze Key

As they went inside, into the darkened halls and the narrow cavern passageways, Call couldn’t help but be conscious of the heavy weight descending on his shoulders the deeper into the caves he went: the weight of, once more, not knowing whom he could trust.

On Monday, Master Rufus announced that there would be a test that Friday, one in which the entire Bronze Year would be competing with one another. Master Rufus even had purple armbands for Tamara, Aaron, and Call, proclaiming them a three-person team.

Callum groaned. He’d never liked the tests, not since they’d had to fight wyverns in his Iron Year. After running away during Copper Year and coming back with the head of the Enemy of Death, he’d been able to opt out of a few more, but now it seemed like his test-avoiding luck had run out.

Aaron was too sunk in the gloom of being disliked, or at least suspected, by everyone in school to do more than solemnly accept his armband. Call wanted to tell Aaron that he’d never been popular and he was perfectly fine, but he worried that maybe Aaron wouldn’t find his words all that reassuring. Still, gloomy Aaron was even less likely to argue than regular Aaron.

“Can you tell us anything about the test?” Tamara asked. “Anything at all?”

Master Rufus shook his head. “Most certainly not. You three are considered — for many reasons — to be an extraordinary group. If you don’t acquit yourselves well, you will be letting many people down, myself included. I expect you to do your best. And I expect that you will be able to do so without any hints.”

Tamara shrugged and grinned. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

Master Rufus gave her a look that said he most certainly could, but he didn’t belabor the point. Instead, he launched into a lecture about what to do when one seems to have an abundance of magic and a spell starts getting bigger than was intended. The short answer: It was that person’s responsibility to control it.

Everything they learned was about responsibility and control these days. And none of it helped at all.

On the way back to their new rooms, they saw Gwenda lurking in the hallway. It was chilly in the corridors, and she was wearing a heavy sweater and jeans, as well as an irritated expression on her face. She brightened up when they approached, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to warm herself.

“I hoped I’d catch you,” she said.

“What’s up?” Tamara asked. Aaron hung back, looking worried that she’d snap at him or glare. But she only looked hopeful.

“I need to talk to you guys,” she said. “Can we go to your new room?”

The three of them glanced at one another. Call could see his own spark of excitement mirrored in the eyes of his friends. Maybe Gwenda knew something about the spy, had seen something or suspected someone?

They ushered her into their common room, and Call directed Havoc to guard the door just in case anyone tried to break in. Havoc took up his post with a vigilant air.

“Look,” Gwenda said, once the three of them had settled onto the couch and were looking at her expectantly, “the thing is …”

“Go ahead, Gwenda,” said Tamara. “You can tell us anything.”

“I want to move in with you!” Gwenda burst out, a flush rising on her dark brown skin. “I know apprentices in the same group are supposed to share rooms, but I looked it up and you can change if you want to. I heard you had an extra room free, and the thing is, I can’t stand it anymore!”

“Stand what?” asked Aaron.

“Jasper and Celia!” Gwenda said in exasperation. “They’re always cuddling on the couch, kissing, slobbering into each other’s ears. It’s horrible.”

“So tell them to stop,” said Call, disappointed. Tamara, on the other hand, looked entertained.

“They won’t stop,” said Gwenda. “I’ve tried; Rafe has tried, and it’s totally hopeless. They don’t listen. This is why interapprentice group relationships suck for everyone.”

“We’d have to ask Master Rufus,” said Aaron, who was a sucker for a sob story and was probably also glad that Gwenda preferred his criminal background to Jasper’s face-sucking ways.

Call glared. He liked Gwenda fine, but given the amount of plotting and sneaking around he, Aaron, and Tamara did, he didn’t see how having her in their rooms would be anything but an inconvenience.

“My parents were an interapprentice group relationship,” he said.

“Well, I bet whoever else was in their group hated them,” said Gwenda ungraciously.

Call was about to open his mouth to tell her that they’d shared a group with the Enemy of Death and his brother, but decided not to. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but neither was it something everyone knew. Call felt like the less people talked about him in connection with Constantine Madden, the better.

Also, if she started implying that the Enemy of Death was driven to becoming an evil overlord because of Call’s parents’ being gross in a romantic way, he might have to kill her.

“Gwenda …” Tamara started, evidently having some of the same doubts as Call.

There was a banging on the door. Gwenda jumped, then looked hopeful. “Is that Master Rufus?” she said. “You could ask him right now.”

Aaron shook his head. “Master Rufus just walks right in,” he said, getting to his feet. He went across the room and flung the door open.

It was Jasper.

“Oh, my God,” said Gwenda. “Why can’t I get away from you?”

Jasper looked puzzled. “Why would anyone want to get away from me?”

She whirled on Call and Tamara. “Does he come over here all the time? Like dropping in unannounced like this?”

“Constantly,” said Tamara.

“It’s a problem,” Call seconded.

Gwenda threw her arms up. “Forget it, then,” she said. “Forget the whole idea.”

She stalked out of the room, past Jasper, who looked puzzled.

“What was all that about?” he asked.

“Mostly that you suck,” Call replied. “Although we knew that.”

Jasper came into the room, the door swinging shut behind him. He was drawing in a breath to say something when Havoc sprang, knocking him to the ground. Jasper yelled.

“Whoops,” Call said. “We told Havoc to guard the door, so …”