The Iron Trial(10)

Call remembered something from the lecture at the front of the bus, something about chaos and devouring. It had sounded bad then and it wasn't sounding any better now.

"They bring something from nothing and that's why we call them Makaris. Makers. They're powerful. And dangerous. Like the Enemy."

A shiver went down Call's spine. Magic sounded even creepier than his father had said. "Being the Enemy of Death doesn't sound that bad," he said, mostly to be contrary. "It's not like death is so great. I mean, who would want to be the Friend of Death?"

"It's not like that." Tamara folded her hands in her lap, clearly annoyed. "The Enemy was a great mage - maybe even the best - but he went crazy. He wanted to live forever and make the dead walk again. That's why they called him the Enemy of Death, because he tried to conquer death. He started pulling chaos into the world, putting the power of the void into animals  …  and even people. When he put a piece of the void into people, it turned them into mindless monsters."

Outside the bus, the sun was gone, with only a smear of red and gold at the very edge of the horizon to remind them how recently it had become night. As the bus trundled along, farther into the dark, Call could pick out more and more stars in the canopy of the sky out the bus window. He could pick out only vague shapes in the woods they passed - it was just leafy darkness and rock as far as Call could see.

"And that's probably what he's still doing," said Jasper. "Just waiting to break the Treaty."

"He wasn't the only Makari of his generation," said Tamara, as if telling a story she'd learned by rote or reciting a speech she'd heard many times. "There was another one. She was our champion and her name was Verity Torres. She was only a little older than we are now, but she was very brave and led the battles against the Enemy. We were winning." Tamara's eyes shone, talking about Verity. "But then, the Enemy did the most treacherous thing anyone could ever do." Her voice dropped again so that the Masters up in the front of the bus couldn't possibly hear. "Everyone knew a big battle was coming. Our side, the good magicians, had hidden their families and children in a remote cave so they couldn't be used as hostages. The Enemy found out where the cave was and instead of going to the battlefield, he went there to kill them all." 

"He expected them to die easily," Celia added, jumping in, her voice soft. She'd obviously heard the story lots of times, too. "It was just kids and old people and a few parents with babies. They tried to hold him off. They killed the Chaos-ridden in the cave, but they weren't strong enough to destroy the Enemy. In the end, everyone died and he slipped away. It was brutal enough that the Assembly offered the Enemy a truce and he accepted."

There was a horrified silence. "None of the good magicians lived?" asked Drew.

"Everybody lives in pony school," Call muttered. He was suddenly glad that he hadn't had enough money to buy any food at the rest stop, because he was pretty sure he would have thrown it up now. He knew his mother had died. He even knew she'd died in a battle. But he'd never heard the details before.

"What?" Tamara turned on him, icy fury on her face. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." Call sat back with his arms crossed. He knew from her expression he'd gone too far.

"You're unbelievable. Your mother died during the Cold Massacre, and you joke around about her sacrifice. You act like it was the mages' fault instead of the Enemy's."

Call looked away, his face hot. He felt ashamed of what he'd said, but he felt angry, too, because he should know about these things, shouldn't he? His father should have told him. But he hadn't.

"If your mother died on the mountain, where were you?" Celia interrupted, clearly trying to make peace. The flower in her hair was still crumpled from her fall at the Trial, and one corner of it was slightly singed.

"In the hospital," Call said. "My leg was messed up when I was born and I was having an operation. I guess she should have just stayed in the hospital waiting room, even if the coffee was bad." It was always like this when he was upset. It was like he couldn't control the words coming out of his mouth.

"You are a disgrace," Tamara spat, no longer the chilly, restrained girl she'd been throughout the Trial. Her eyes danced with anger. "Half the legacy kids at the Magisterium have family who died on the mountain. If you keep talking that way, somebody's going to drown you in an underground pool and no one will be sorry, including me."

"Tamara," Aaron said. "We're all in the same apprentice group. Give him a break. His mother died. He's allowed to feel any way he wants about it."

"My great-aunt died there, too," Celia said. "My parents talk about her all the time, but I never knew her. I'm not mad at you, Call. I just wish it didn't happen to either of us. To any of them."

"Well, I'm mad," said a guy in the back. Call thought his name might be Rafe. He was tall, with a thicket of curly dark hair, and he wore a T-shirt with a grinning skull on it that glowed a faint green in the dim light.

Call felt even worse. He almost said something apologetic to Celia and Rafe, until Tamara turned to Aaron and said fiercely: "But it's like he doesn't care. They were heroes."

"No, they weren't," Call burst out, before Aaron could speak. "They were victims. They got killed because of magic, and it can't be fixed. Not even by your Enemy of Death, right?"

There was a shocked silence. Even people who had been involved in other conversations in other parts of the bus turned around and gaped at Call.



       
         
       
        

His father had blamed the other mages for his mother's death. And he trusted his dad. He did. But with all of their eyes on him, Call wasn't sure what to think.

The silence was broken only by the sound of Master Rockmaple snoring. The bus had turned onto a bumpy dirt path.

Very quietly, Celia said, "I hear there are Chaos-ridden animals near the school. From the Enemy's experiments."

"Like horses?" Drew asked.

"I hope not," Tamara said with a shudder. Drew looked disappointed. "You wouldn't want a Chaos-ridden horse if you had one. Chaos-ridden creatures are the Enemy's servants. They've got a piece of the void in them and it makes them smarter than other animals, but bloodthirsty and insane. Only the Enemy or one of his servants can control them."

"So they'd be like evil-possessed zombie horses?" Drew asked.

"Not exactly. You'd know them by their eyes. Their eyes coruscate - pale, with spiraling colors inside of them - but otherwise they just look regular. That's the scary part," put in Gwenda. "I hope we don't have to go outside much."

"I do," said Tamara. "I hope we learn how to recognize and kill them. I want to do that."

"Oh, yeah," Call said under his breath. "I'm the crazy one. Nothing to worry about at the ole Magisterium. Evil pony school, here we come."

But Tamara wasn't paying attention to him. She was leaning out from her seat, listening to Celia say, "I hear there's a new type of Chaos-ridden where you can't tell from the eyes. The creature doesn't even know what it is until the Enemy makes it do what he wants. So, like, your cat could be spying on you or -"

The bus stopped with a jerk. For a second, Call thought maybe they'd gone to another gas station, but then Master Rufus rose to his feet. "We've arrived," he said. "Please file off the bus in an orderly fashion." And for a few minutes, everything was really ordinary, as if Call were just on a field trip. Kids grabbed their luggage and bags and jostled toward the front of the bus. Call got off just after Aaron and, since he didn't have to collect any baggage, was the first one to really take a second to look around.





CALL WAS STANDING in front of a sheer mountain face. To the left and right was forest, but in front of him was a set of massive double doors. They were a weathered gray color with iron hinges that turned into curved swirls, bending inward on one another. Call imagined that from a distance or without the glow of the bus headlights, they would have been nearly invisible. Carved into the rock over the doors was an unfamiliar symbol: 



Beneath it were the words: Fire wants to burn, water wants to flow, air wants to rise, earth wants to bind, chaos wants to devour.

Devour. The word sent a shiver through him. Last chance to run, he thought. But he wasn't very fast and there was nowhere to run to anyway.

The other kids had gotten their gear and were now standing around like he was. Master Rufus walked to the doors, and all of them grew quiet. Master North stepped forward.

"You are about to enter the halls of the Magisterium," he said. "For some of you, this may be the fulfillment of a dream. For others, we hope it may be the beginning of one. To all of you, I say, the Magisterium exists here for your own safety. You have a great power, and without training, that power is dangerous. Here, we will help you to learn control and teach you about the great history of mages like yourself, dating back through time. Each of you has a unique destiny, one outside the normal path you might have walked, one you will find here. You may have guessed this when you saw the first stirrings of your power. But as you stand at the entrance to the mountain, I imagine at least a few of you are wondering just what you've gotten yourselves into."