Call sucked in a long breath. He’d seen the exact same gauntlet in the drawing in his father’s creepy basement ritual room. The Alkahest had been the reason Alastair had wanted to cut out Havoc’s heart.
Alastair must have tried to steal the gauntlet from the Collegium.
Call’s head swam. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself upright. Aaron flipped the page.
There was a black-and-white photograph of the gauntlet in a glass case, probably in its resting place in the Collegium. A brief history was recorded in a sidebar beside the picture. It had been created by a group of researchers who’d called themselves the Order of Disorder. Master Joseph and Constantine Madden had once been part of their number, hoping to plumb the depths of chaos magic and to find a way to allow more mages to access the void. When Constantine Madden broke away and became the Enemy of Death, the Order had hoped their Alkahest could stop him.
Apparently, the Alkahest had fallen into the Enemy’s hands near the end of the war, allowing the Enemy’s minions to kill Verity Torres on the battlefield while Constantine Madden led more of his forces to the mountain in La Rinconada for the Cold Massacre.
The book said that the Order of Disorder still existed, researching Chaos-ridden animals, though no one was sure who their leaders were now.
“The mages will figure out who tried to take it,” Tamara said. “And it’s in a safer place now.”
“If one of Constantine Madden’s people get ahold of it, the next time I see the gauntlet, it’ll be pointed at me.” Aaron exhaled a long, worried breath. “Let’s see if this book says anything about destroying the Alkahest.”
Call wanted to say something, to reassure Aaron that it wasn’t the minions of the Enemy who were after the gauntlet; it was just Call’s dad.
But before he could decide to do it, Master Rufus made his way down the nautilus stairs of the library. All three of his apprentices turned to look guiltily in his direction, even though there was nothing for them to look guilty about. They were in a library, researching. Rufus ought to have been thrilled.
He didn’t look thrilled. He looked worried. Peering over Tamara’s shoulder, he frowned and said, “Aaron, the Alkahest is locked up. The Assembly had it moved to a vault designed by metal mages during the last war. It’s underground, beneath a place you’ve been before, and completely secure.”
“I just wanted to know more about it,” Aaron said.
“I see.” Master Rufus folded his arms over his chest. “Well, I am not here to interrupt your studies. I am here to speak with Callum.”
“Me?” Call asked.
“You.” Master Rufus took a few steps away from the others and Call followed him reluctantly.
“Havoc, stay,” Call muttered. He wasn’t sure what the mage was going to tell him, but he could tell it wasn’t going to be good.
“Your father is here to see you,” the Master announced.
“What?” Call shouldn’t have been stunned, but he was. “I thought parents weren’t allowed to come to the Magisterium.”
“They’re not.” Master Rufus peered down at Call, as though he was trying to discern the answer to some question. “But the Magisterium is not in the habit of kidnapping students, either. I assumed you arrived here in the standard manner; Alastair informed us that he didn’t speak with you before you left your home. He said you ran away.”
“He doesn’t want me to be here,” said Call. “He wants me to stay away from the Magisterium.”
“As you know,” said Rufus gently, “such a thing is not possible for a mage who has passed the First Gate. You must complete your training.”