The Copper Gauntlet

Just as he was pretty sure he was about to set fire to the book again, the door opened. It was Alex Strike, brown hair messy as usual — Call felt for him about that one — and an odd expression on his face.

Call shoved the history book under a cushion and sat up, careful not to dislodge Havoc. Because he was Rufus’s assistant, Alex was one of the only people besides Rufus to have access to the room. Still, he’d never come in like this before.

“What’s going on?” Call asked.

Alex sat down on the couch opposite Call, glancing at the closed doors of Tamara’s and Aaron’s rooms. “Are your roommates out?”

Call nodded, uncertain where this was going. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe Alex had a message from Rufus. Maybe there was some kind of Magisterium second-year hazing ritual that involved being tied to a stalactite overnight.

“It’s about your dad,” Alex said. “I know about the Alkahest. I know the mages are looking for him.”

Call glanced down at Havoc, who growled low in his throat. “Does everyone know?” Call asked, thinking of Jasper.

Alex shook his head. “Not how serious things are.”

“My dad didn’t do it,” Call said. “Not like they’re saying. He’s not in league with the Enemy. He’s not in league with anyone.”

A strange expression passed over Alex’s face, like maybe he’d only just then realized how dangerous it was to be talking to Call about this. “I believe you,” he said finally. “Which is why you need to get word to your dad to stay hidden. If they find him, they’re going to kill him.”

“What?” Call said, although he’d heard the words perfectly clearly.

Alex shook his head. “The Alkahest is gone. If he’s the one who got it, they’re not going to bother with prison. He’ll be dead as soon as they find him. That’s why I figured you ought to know. Warn him, before it’s too late.”

Call wondered how Alex knew this stuff and then remembered his stepmother was on the Assembly. So instead he asked, “Why are you helping me?”

“Because you helped me,” he said. “Gotta go.”

Call nodded and Alex slipped out.

If Alastair were murdered by the mages, it would be Call’s fault. He had to do something, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that there was no safe way to get Alastair a message. Master Rufus would be watching for that — would use it to catch Alastair if he could. But if Call could find his dad in time, maybe he could warn him in person.

Thinking of Alastair made Call remember the room in the basement, set up for a ritual, and the small, boy-size cot in the corner. It made Call remember how Havoc had whined and the sound his father’s head had made when it hit the wall.

If he found his father and his father had the Alkahest, what would Alastair do with it?

Call knew he had to focus. Call knew his dad better than anyone. He should be able to guess where Alastair was hiding. It would be a place that was out of the way, one he knew really well. A place the mages wouldn’t think to look. One that wasn’t easily traceable back to him.

Call sat up straight.

Alastair bought a lot of broken-down antique cars to strip for parts — way too many to store in the garage of the house or in his shop, so he’d rented the dilapidated barn of an elderly lady about forty miles from where they lived … and paid her in cash. That barn would be a perfect hideout — Alastair had even slept there sometimes, when he was working late into the night.

Call slid off the couch, causing Havoc to tumble to the ground with an annoyed grunt. He reached down to stroke the wolf’s head. “Don’t worry, boy,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”