He felt Aaron’s hand on his back, pinning him in place, forcing him to focus. “Call, enough.”
And somehow, that allowed Call to turn off the torrent. He couldn’t reverse it, but at least it was no longer pouring out of him like his lifeblood. Shaking, he looked around. The chaos he had unleashed had become living shadows, shadows that were tearing at the edges of the room. Darkness was spreading inexorably, eating away at the walls of the tomb at the pillars that held up the roof, gnawing at the mortar that held the bricks of the underground room together until they started to loosen and fall to the floor.
“We need to get out of here!” Alastair turned away from the doors Master Joseph had escaped through and dashed to the foot of the stairs, gesturing for the others to follow him. “All of you, come on!”
Tamara rose to her feet, pulling Call with her. Along with Jasper and Aaron, she and Call began to race toward Alastair and the steps. Nearby, a piece of roof gave way, and rock tumbled to the ground, exploding at their feet. They swerved, nearly colliding with a patch of spreading black shadow. Jasper yelled and jumped back.
The darkness shot toward them; Aaron thrust his hand out, and a beam of black light shone from his palm: It struck the shadow and enveloped it. Call looked at Aaron in amazement.
“Chaos stops chaos,” Aaron explained.
“I can’t do chaos magic,” Call whispered.
“It looks like you can,” Aaron observed, and there was something in his voice, a dark amusement and maybe something less comfortable.
Tamara’s face was smudged. “It’s devouring this whole tomb. Aaron, can you hold it off until we get out?”
“I think I can,” Aaron said, looking around at the shadows, at the crawling magic that deepened them, drawing off everything it touched into the void. “But Call released a lot of chaos energy — I don’t know.”
“Just go,” Call said. He felt better without the chaos in his head, cluttering up his thoughts, but he could still feel something simmering inside of him, something that hadn’t been there before.
“Callum —” Alastair began, but Call cut him off.
“Dad, I need you to get them out of here. Now.”
“What about you?” Tamara asked. “Don’t get some idea about staying behind.”
Call looked Tamara in the eye, willing her to believe him, to trust him just this once. “I won’t. Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
What’s something that’s not behind you? Call thought grimly. Ahead. A head. Get it?
Tamara must have seen something in Call’s face, because she nodded once. Jasper was already moving past Alastair. Aaron looked less sure, but with chaos magic burning away the walls around them, he had his hands full. He threw out more and more magic, pushing back the void as they made for the stairs.
Call had only a few moments before Alastair noticed he wasn’t following.
Call drew Miri from her sheath and went to where the remains of Constantine Madden rested on the marble slab.
CALL RACED UP the stairs as quickly as he could go, cursing his leg for slowing him down when the very walls were crumbling away into nothingness. All around, darkness was lapping at his heels, as if it wanted to pull him into its endless embrace. Chaos magic that he’d unleashed but had no idea how to constrain.
“Call,” Alastair was shouting from the corridor, hands thrust up to hold the ceiling above them with magic. “Call, where are you? Call!”
He ran to his father, rocks spinning above them, rocks that would have collapsed had his father not come back for him. “Here,” he said, out of breath. “I’m right here.”