The Copper Gauntlet by Holly Black

CALL WANDERED THROUGH the halls of the Magisterium, heading down toward the cool lakes and rivers that ran through the caves. Eventually, he stopped by the side of one, took off his boots, and stuck his feet into the silty water.

He wondered again about whether he was a good person. He’d always figured he was okay, like most people. Not terrible, but not great, either. Normal.

Definitely not a murderer.

But Constantine Madden was a murderer. He was an evil madman who’d created monsters and tried to cheat death. And Call was Constantine. So didn’t that mean he was responsible for everything Constantine had ever done, even if he didn’t remember it?

And now Call was letting Aaron worry and plan to face a threat that didn’t even exist, because he was selfish.

Call kicked the water, sending droplets flying against the wall and scattering the pale, eyeless fish that had gathered around his toes.

Just then, a lizard dropped down from the ceiling onto the stone beside Call.

“Augh!” Call yelled, jumping to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Live here,” said Warren, tongue flicking out to lick an eyeball. “Watch you.”

Because that wasn’t creepy at all.

Call sighed. The last time he’d seen the lizard, Warren had led Call, Tamara, and Aaron into the room of one of the Devoured, a mage who’d used so much fire magic that he’d become a fire elemental. The warning of the Devoured rang in Call’s ears: One of you will fail. One of you will die. And one of you is already dead.

Now Call knew which one of those he was. Callum Hunt was already dead.

“Go away,” he warned the lizard. “Go away or I’ll drown you in the river.”

Warren gave him a goggle-eyed look before scuttling halfway up the wall. “Not the only thing that’s watching,” he said before disappearing into the darkness.

With a sigh, Call picked up his boots and padded barefoot back to his chambers. There, he flung himself down on one of the couches and stared into the fireplace, concentrating on not thinking about anything awful, until Tamara and Aaron returned, Havoc trotting after them. Aaron was carrying a big plate of lichen.

Despite himself, Call’s stomach growled at the fried-chicken smell coming off the mass of green stuff.

“You didn’t go to dinner,” Tamara said. “Rafe and Kai say hello.”

“Is everything okay?” Aaron asked.

“Yup,” Call said, taking a big forkful of lichen and adding another lie to his growing Evil Overlord list.

Classes started the next morning. For the first time, they had a dedicated classroom. Or class-cave, he guessed. It was a big room with uneven rocky walls, and a circular depression in the center. The circle was a sunken bench, around which they could sit for lessons. There was also a pool for practicing water magic and providing a counterweight for fire. Additionally, there was a pit of churned-up dirt. And — probably just for Aaron — there was a metal plinth on which rested a gleaming black stone, symbol of the void.

Aaron, Tamara, and Call flopped onto the bench while Master Rufus smoothed out a space of wall. As he gestured, sparks flew from his fingers, tracing letters over the stone. “Last year, you walked through the Gate of Control. You mastered your magic. That is the first step toward being a true mage. This year, we will begin to work on your mastery of the elements themselves.”

He began to pace. Rufus often paced when he was thinking.

“Some Masters, if they had a chaos mage in their group, would separate out that student from the others. They would teach him or her on their own, believing that a chaos mage might otherwise disrupt the balance of their apprentice group.”

“What?” Aaron looked horrified.

“I won’t do that,” Rufus said, frowning at them. Call wondered what it was like for him, being the Master who’d turned out to have a Makar in his group. Most Masters would kill for the chance, but most Masters weren’t Rufus. He’d taught Constantine Madden, and that had gone horribly wrong. Maybe he didn’t want to take any more chances. “Aaron will stay with the group. I understand that Call will be your counterweight?”

Aaron looked over at Call as though he was expecting Call to take back the offer.

“Yeah,” Call said. “I mean, if he still wants.”

That made Aaron give him a lopsided grin. “I want.”

“Good.” Master Rufus nodded. “So we’ll work on counterweight exercises, all of us. Earth, air, water, and fire. Aaron, I want you to be proficient in those before you attempt to use Call as your counterweight.”

“Because I could hurt him,” Aaron said.

“You could kill him,” Master Rufus cautioned.

“You won’t, though,” Tamara told Aaron. Call frowned, wondering how close the two of them had gotten over the summer, and if that was another reason Aaron hadn’t mentioned staying at Tamara’s house.

Tamara looked over at Call, her expression oddly intense. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“I am sure no one thinks you would hurt a friend on purpose,” Master Rufus said, glancing toward Call. “And we’re going to make sure that none of you hurts anyone by accident, either.”

Call let out a breath. That was exactly what he wanted to learn. How not to hurt anyone, even by accident.

Aaron looked horrified. “Can I just not have a counterweight, if the counterweight might die?”

Master Rufus looked at him with something that might have been pity. “Chaos magic takes a terrible toll on a Makar, and it’s not always easy to see when you’re using too much of it. You need a counterweight for your own safety, but it would be better if you never used one.”

Call tried to smile at Aaron encouragingly, but Aaron wasn’t looking at him.

Master Rufus went on to outline the rest of the year’s studies. They were going to go on missions in the forest surrounding the Magisterium and do small tasks — move the paths of streams, put out fires, make observations of their surroundings, and bring back items for further study. A few of their missions would include other apprentice groups, and, eventually, all of the Copper Year students would be sent together to capture rogue elementals.

Call thought about camping under the stars with Tamara and Aaron and Havoc. It sounded great. They could make s’mores — or at least toast some lichen — and tell ghost stories. Until their Copper Year ran out and summer started again, they could pretend the rest of the world and all its expectations didn’t exist.

That night, Call was on his way to the Mission Gate with Havoc when Celia caught up to him. She had changed out of the uniform they had to wear during school hours and was wearing a fuzzy pink skirt and a pink-and-green-striped blouse.

“Are you headed to the Gallery?” she asked, a little out of breath. “We could go together.”

He usually loved the warm pools and fizzy drinks and movies of the Gallery, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be around so many people right then. “I was just taking Havoc for a walk.”

“I’ll come along.” She smiled at him as if she really thought that standing outside in the muggy mosquito-infested dark with him was just as much fun as the Gallery. She bent to pet Havoc’s head.

“Uh, okay,” Call said, unable to hide his surprise. “Great.”

They went outside and watched as Havoc nosed around patches of weeds. Fireflies lit the air like sparks from a fire.

“Gwenda snuck a pet in this year,” Celia said abruptly. “Fuzzball. She says that since you guys get to keep a wolf, her ferret should be no big deal. The ferret’s not even Chaos-ridden. Jasper’s allergic, though, so I don’t know if she’ll be able to keep her, no matter what she says.”

Call grinned. Anything that was bad for Jasper had to be good for the world. “I think I like Fuzzball.”

It turned out that Celia was a font of information. She told Call which apprentice had a weird rash, who got cave lice, which Iron Year supposedly wet the bed. Celia knew about Alex and Kimiya breaking up and about Alex sulking. She also claimed that Rafe was a cheater.

“On tests?” Call asked, confused.

“No,” Celia said, laughing. “He kissed one girl on the mouth after he told another girl that he liked her. It’s Susan DeVille, who cheats on tests. She writes the answers on her wrist in invisible ink and then uses magic to turn it purple.”

“You know everything,” Call said, amazed. He had no idea that apprentices were telling one another that they liked one another. “What about Jasper? Tell me something bad about Jasper.”

She gave him a reproachful look. “Jasper’s nice. I don’t know anything bad about him.”

Call sighed in disappointment, just as Havoc trotted back toward them with an enormous leaf-covered branch in his mouth. He dropped it at Call’s feet, tail wagging, as though he’d brought over a regular-size stick he hoped Call would throw.

After a moment of awed silence, both Call and Celia began to laugh.

After that, Celia joined him for Havoc’s evening walk most nights. Sometimes Tamara and Aaron came, too, but since Tamara took Havoc for morning walks and Aaron got extra Makar work piled on top of his regular studies, mostly they begged off.

One day toward the end of September, someone else joined Call on the path outside school. He thought for a second when he saw a boy loping toward him in jeans and a sweater — the hot weather had cooled off and there was a definite chill in the air — that it was Aaron, but as he got closer, Call realized it was Alex Strike.

He looked disheveled and a little pale, though it could just have been his summer tan fading. Call stood on the path waiting as Alex approached, holding Havoc’s leash. Call was definitely puzzled. Since school started, Alex hadn’t so much as smiled across the Refectory at him, and if Alex had been doing errands for Master Rufus, Call hadn’t seen him. He’d assumed Alex was avoiding them all because of Kimiya, and also because, well, Alex was one of the most popular kids in school and probably didn’t have a lot of time for Copper Years.

But now Alex was definitely seeking him out. He raised a hand in greeting as he got close to Call and Havoc. “Hey, Call.” He bent down to pet the wolf. “Havoc. Long time no see.”

Havoc whined, looking mortally offended.

“I figured you were avoiding us,” Call said. “Because of Kimiya.”

Alex straightened up. “Do you ever not say what you’re thinking?”

“That seems like a trick question somehow,” Call mused. Havoc yanked at his leash and Call started along the path, following the wolf. Alex trotted after him.

“It was actually Kimiya I wanted to talk to you about,” Alex said. “You know we broke up….”

“Everyone knows,” said Call, zipping up his hoodie. It had rained recently and the trees were dripping.

“Did Tamara say anything about Kimiya to you? Whether she’s still angry at me?”

Havoc jerked on his leash. Call let him go, and Havoc bounded after something — probably a squirrel. “I don’t think Tamara’s ever mentioned Kimiya and you to me,” he said, puzzled. His first instinct was to tell Alex that there was no point asking him anything, because he knew nothing about girls and less about dating, and Tamara never mentioned her sister’s romantic choices. Also, Kimiya was so pretty that she probably had another boyfriend by now.

But his second instinct told him that his first instinct was Evil Overlordish. Evil Overlords didn’t help others with their love lives.

He, Call, could.

“Tamara has kind of a temper,” Call said. “I mean, she gets mad easily. But she doesn’t stay mad. So if Kimiya is like her, she probably isn’t still angry. You could try talking to her.”

Alex nodded but didn’t look as if Call was saying anything he hadn’t thought of.

“Or you could try not talking to her,” Call said. “When I don’t talk to Tamara, she comes and hits me, so that would be a way that Kimiya might come to you first. Plus, once she hits you, it breaks the ice.”

“Or my shoulder,” said Alex.

“I mean, if it doesn’t work, then, like they say, ‘If you love someone, set them free. Don’t lock them up underground in a cavern.’ ”

“I don’t think that’s the saying, Call.”

Call looked at Havoc bounding along the ridge. “Just don’t show her who you really are,” he said. “Pretend you’re a person she might love, and then she’ll love you. Because people just love who they think other people are, anyway.”

Alex whistled. “When did you get so cynical? Do you get it from your dad?”

Call frowned, no longer feeling inclined to be very helpful. “This has nothing to do with my dad. Why bring him up?”

Alex stepped back, raising his hands. “Hey, all I know is what people say. That he was friends with the Enemy of Death once. He was in his mage group. And now he hates magicians and everything having to do with magic.”

“So what if he does?” Call snapped.

“Has he ever reached out to anyone?” Alex asked. “Any mages? Anyone he used to be friends with?”

Call shook his head. “I don’t think so. He has a different life now.”

“It sucks when people are lonely,” Alex said. “My stepmother was lonely when my dad died, until she got on the Assembly. Now she’s happy running everyone’s life.”

Call wanted to deny that Alastair wasn’t happy with his new non-magical, antique-geek friends. But he remembered the tightness in his father’s jaw, how quiet he’d been over the years, the haunted way he looked sometimes, as though his burdens were almost too much to bear.

“Yeah,” Call said finally, snapping his fingers. Havoc rushed down the hill toward him, claws scraping on the wet ground. He tried to not think of his dad, alone, at home. Of what his dad had thought when Master Rufus came to tell him that Call didn’t want to even see him. “It does.”

He thought about it the next day, as he listened to Master Rufus’s lecture on advanced elemental usage. Master Rufus paced back and forth in the front of the classroom, explaining how rogue elementals were dangerous and usually had to be put down, but occasionally mages also found them useful to bind into service.

“Flying depletes our magical energies,” Master Rufus said. “For example.”

Aaron stuck up his hand, a public-school reflex. “But doesn’t controlling elementals also use up magical energy?”

Master Rufus nodded. “Interesting question. Yes, it does deplete energy, but not continuously. Once you’ve bound an elemental, keeping them requires less energy. Almost all mages keep one or two elementals in their service. And schools like the Magisterium have many.”

“What?” Call looked around, half expecting some watery wyvern to burst through the rock wall.

Master Rufus raised a brow. “How do you think your uniforms get cleaned? Or your rooms, for that matter?”

Call hadn’t much thought about it before, but found himself unnerved. Was some creature like Warren scrubbing his underwear? He was mightily creeped out. But maybe that was species-ist. Maybe he needed to be more open-minded.

He remembered Warren munching down eyeless fish. Maybe not.

Master Rufus went on, warming to his subject. “And of course, the elementals we use in exercises — but also some for defense. Ancient elementals, sleeping deep in the caves, waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Call asked, wide-eyed.

“For the summons to battle.”

“You mean if the war starts up again,” said Aaron tonelessly, “they’ll be sent out to fight the Enemy.”

Master Rufus nodded.

“But how do you get them to do what you want?” Call demanded. “Why would they agree to sleep for such a long time and then be woken up just to fight?”

“They are bound to the Magisterium by ancient elemental magic,” said Rufus. “The first mages who ever founded the academy captured them, bound their powers, and laid them to rest many miles below the earth. They rise at our bidding and are controlled by us.”

“How is that different from the Enemy and his Chaos-ridden?” Tamara asked. She’d somehow turned one of her braids into a lopsided bun with a pen, which now stuck out of her hair.

“Tamara!” Aaron said. “It’s completely different. The Chaos-ridden are evil. Except Havoc,” he added hastily.

“So what are these things? Good?” Tamara asked. “If they’re good, why keep them locked up underground?”

“They are neither evil nor good,” Rufus explained. “They are immensely powerful, like the Greek Titans, and they care nothing about human beings. Where they go, destruction and death follow — not because they wish to kill, but because they don’t recognize or care what they do. Blaming a great elemental for destroying a town would be like blaming a volcano for erupting.”

“So they have to be controlled for everyone’s good,” Call said. He could hear the doubt and suspicion in his own voice.

“One of the metal elementals, Automotones, escaped after Verity Torres’s battle with the Enemy,” said Rufus. “He tore a bridge apart. The cars on it plunged into the water. People drowned before he was returned to his place below the Magisterium.”

“He wasn’t punished?” Tamara sounded particularly interested in this.

Rufus shrugged. “As I said, it would be like punishing a volcano for erupting. We need these creatures. They are all we have to match the force of Constantine’s Chaos-ridden.”

“Can we see one?” Call asked.

“What?” Rufus paused, pen in hand.

“I want to see one.” Even Call wasn’t entirely sure why he was asking. There was something that compelled him about the idea of a creature that was neither evil nor good. That never had to worry about how to behave. A force of nature.

“In a few weeks, you will be starting missions,” said Rufus. “You will be on your own outside the Magisterium, traveling, carrying out projects. If you complete those successfully, I see no reason why you couldn’t view a sleeping elemental.”

There was a knock on the door, and after Rufus said it was okay to enter, it was pushed open. Rafe came inside. He’d looked a lot happier since Master Lemuel had left the Magisterium, but Call wondered if he’d been scared to come back to school after Drew’s death. “Master Rockmaple sent you this,” he said, holding out a folded-over paper to Master Rufus.

Master Rufus read it, then crumpled it in one hand. It burst into flame, blackening to ash. “Thank you,” he said to Rafe with a nod, as though setting correspondence on fire was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. “Tell your Master I will see him at lunch.”

Rafe left, wide-eyed.

Call desperately wished he could see whatever was on that paper. The problem with having a horrible secret was that any time anything happened, Call worried it had something to do with him.

But Master Rufus didn’t even look in his direction when he resumed the lesson. And when nothing happened the next day or the day after, Call forgot to be worried.

And as the weeks went by and the leaves on the trees began to blaze with yellow and red and orange, like conjured fire, it became easier and easier for Call to forget he had a secret at all.