“Now that there’s a Makar, what does it mean for the Treaty?” Call asked, thinking of Rufus’s speech and the way the Assembly members had reacted to it at the meeting.
“Nothing right now,” Tamara said. “No one would want to move against the Enemy of Death while Aaron is so young — well, almost nobody. But once the Enemy hears about him, if he hasn’t already, who knows what he’ll do.”
After a few minutes of talking, Tamara glanced at her watch. “Aaron’s been gone a long time,” she said. “If he’s out there any longer, dinner will be over, and he’ll get caught coming back through the corridors. Maybe I should go check on him.”
“Right,” said Call. “I’ll go with you.”
“Is that a good idea?” Tamara raised an eyebrow, looking at his leg. It did seem pretty bad, wrapped up in moss and sealed with mud. Call wiggled his toes experimentally. Nothing hurt.
Call swung his legs over the side of the bed, sending splintering cracks through his mud-moss cast. “I can’t sit here any longer. I’m going stir-crazy. And my leg itches. I want to get some air.”
“Okay, but we’re going to have to go slow. And if anything hurts, you’ve got to rest and then go right back.”
Call nodded. He pulled himself to his feet using the bedpost. As soon as he was standing, the cast broke completely in half and fell away, leaving his calf bare under his sliced-up pants leg.
“That’s a good look for you,” said Tamara, heading for the door. Call quickly yanked on his socks and boots, which had been shoved under his bed. He tucked the individual pieces of his pants into his socks so they wouldn’t be flapping around, and picked up Miri, sliding her through his belt. Then he followed Tamara out into the hall.
The corridors were quiet, as the students were all in the Refectory. Call and Tamara tried to make as little noise as possible as they made their way to the Mission Gate. Call felt wobbly. Both his legs hurt a little, although he wasn’t going to tell Tamara that. He thought he must look pretty bizarre, with his pants cut open from the knee down and his hair sticking up all over the place, but fortunately, there was no one to see him. They found the Mission Gate and slipped silently out into the darkness.
The night was warm and clear, the moon out, outlining the trees and the paths around the Magisterium. “Aaron!” Tamara called in a low voice. “Aaron, where are you?”
Call turned around, scanning the woods. There was something a little creepy about them, the shadows thick between the trees, the branches rattling in the wind. “Havoc!” he called.
There was a silence, and then Havoc burst out from between the trees, coruscating eyes whirling like fireworks. He dashed up to Call and Tamara, his makeshift rope-leash dragging on the ground behind him. Call heard Tamara give a little gasp.
“Where’s Aaron?” she asked.
Havoc whimpered and reared up, pawing at the air. He was practically vibrating all over, his fur standing up, his ears swiveling wildly. He whined and danced toward Call, pushing his cold nose into Call’s hand.
“Havoc.” Call dug his fingers into the wolf’s ruff, trying to get him to calm down. “Are you all right, boy?”
Havoc whined again and danced away, wriggling out of Call’s grasp. He jogged toward the forest, then paused and looked over his shoulder at them.
“He wants us to follow,” said Call.
“Do you think Aaron is hurt?” Tamara asked, looking around wildly. “Could an elemental have attacked him?”
“Come on,” Call said, starting across the dark ground, ignoring the twinge in his legs.
Havoc, assured that they were behind him, raced off like a shot, darting between trees like a brown blur in the moonlight.
As fast as they could go, Tamara and Call followed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CALL’S LEGS HURT. He was used to one of them aching, but both of them together was a new sensation. He didn’t know how to balance his weight and, although he’d picked up a stick as he walked through the forest and was using it when he felt like he was going to fall, nothing helped the way his muscles burned.
Havoc was leading the way, with Tamara well ahead of Call, looking back regularly to make sure that he was still behind her and occasionally slowing impatiently. Call wasn’t sure how far they’d gone — time was starting to blur with the rising pain — but the farther from the Magisterium they got, the more alarmed Call became.
It wasn’t like he didn’t trust Havoc to lead them to Aaron. No, what worried him was how Aaron could have come so far — and why. Had some enormous creature like a wyvern flown off with him in its claws? Had Aaron gotten lost in the woods?
No, not lost. Havoc would have led him out. So what had happened?
They crested a hill, and the trees began to thin all the way down to a highway that snaked through the forest. On the other side, another hill rose to block out the horizon.
Havoc barked once and started down. Tamara turned and jogged to Call.
“You’ve got to go back,” she said. “You’re hurting and we have no idea how much farther away Aaron could be. You should head to the Magisterium and tell Master Rufus what happened. He can bring the others.”
“I’m not going back,” Call said. “Aaron’s my best friend and I’m not leaving him if he’s in danger.”
Tamara put her hand on one hip. “I’m his best friend.”
Call wasn’t sure how the whole best-friend thing worked. “Fine, then I’m his best friend who isn’t a girl.”
Tamara shook her head. “Havoc is his best friend who isn’t a girl.”
“Well, I’m still not leaving,” Call said, shoving his stick in the dirt. “I’m not leaving him, and I’m not leaving you. Besides, it makes sense for you to go back, not me.”
Tamara looked at him, her eyebrow quirked. “Why?”
Call said what they’d probably both been thinking but neither had wanted to say out loud. “Because we’re going to get in a lot of trouble for this. We should have gone to Master Rufus the second Havoc showed up without Aaron —”
“We didn’t have time,” Tamara argued. “And we would have had to tell them about Havoc —”
“We are going to have to tell them about Havoc. There’s no other way to explain what happened. We’re going to get in trouble, Tamara; it just depends how much. For having a Chaos-ridden animal, for not running for the Masters the second something happened to the Makar, for everything. Big trouble. And if it’s going to land on one of us, it should be me.”
Tamara was silent. Call couldn’t read her expression in the shadows.
“You’re the one who has parents who care if you stay at the Magisterium and who care how you do here,” he said, feeling weary. “Not me. You’re the one who scored high in the Trial, not me. You’re the one who wanted help sticking to the rules and not cutting corners — well, this is me helping. You belong here. I don’t. It matters to you if you get in trouble. It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t matter.”
“That’s not true,” Tamara said.
“What isn’t?” Call realized he’d made quite a speech and wasn’t sure which part she was objecting to.