The Golden Tower Page 15

Well, obviously I think so, said Aaron.

“I keep thinking of something you said when you first came to the Magisterium, when you were just learning about the mage world. You didn’t understand why the Enemy of Death was such a scary name. Do you remember what you said? Who wants to be the Friend of Death?”

Call did not remember saying that. He shook his head.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Tamara told him. “About how there’s nothing wrong with wanting no more death. We all want that. That wasn’t Constantine’s problem, and bringing Aaron back is so good it’s incredible. It’s amazing. Call, you did something no one has ever done before.”

“Well, two problems,” Call said, although he was reluctant to give up any of her good opinion. “One, Aaron more or less got pulled into my head by trying to keep me from being destroyed by chaos and I’m not sure we could ever do anything like it again. And, uh, two, we have to get Aaron a body.”

Her eyes widened a little. “Oh, yeah.”

Before they could get down to the nitty-gritty of the ethics of body stealing, Master Amaranth returned. Beside her was an Assembly member Call recognized but didn’t know by name. Master Amaranth’s snake had turned an aggressive orange and its head was hovering in the air over one shoulder, like it wanted to strike at the new visitor.

“Callum,” said Master Amaranth. “Against my advice, key members of the Assembly have come to the Magisterium and are eager to have a meeting with you and some of your friends. You would think they would be a little more patient, but it turns out they are very bad at waiting.”

The Assembly member beside her wore an increasingly pinched and unhappy expression but didn’t rise to the bait. “We’re sorry,” he said. “But this is a matter of urgency. Alex Strike has sent us his demands and they involve both of you.”

 

The Assembly was meeting in the large stone room around the round table where Call had sat in front of them before — most notably, when he’d brought them Constantine Madden’s head in a bag. That had been a big hit, or so Call liked to think.

When he and Tamara came in, he was surprised to find Jasper already there, talking in hushed tones with one of the members. Call got close enough to hear that their conversation was about Jasper’s dad, currently imprisoned in the Panopticon. If Anastasia had been sentenced to death, what was Jasper’s dad’s punishment? He couldn’t be in really bad trouble, Call tried to reassure himself. Surely Jasper would have told them. But looking out at the unsmiling faces of the mages, a chill went through him.

“Enough, enough.” A sharp voice cut through the chatter as Call and Tamara took their seats. Master Rufus seated himself opposite them, his arms folded. A few other teachers from the Magisterium were with him. “Enough. Everyone come to order,” called Assemblyman Graves — ancient and grumpy, he was one of the senior voices in the Assembly. “We have business to discuss.”

Everyone settled down. Call tried to catch Jasper’s eye, but Jasper was staring at his own folded hands.

“We have suffered a great loss today,” said Master North. “Master Rockmaple, after a long life dedicated to selfless service to his fellow mages, is dead.”

“Not just dead,” said Master Milagros, red-eyed. “He was sucked into chaos. Who knows where his soul may be wandering.”

“He was saving two students,” said Master Rufus. “He will be remembered as a hero. As should Call,” he added, shooting a look at Assemblyman Graves. “If it were not for our Makar, Alexander Strike might have succeeded in murdering even more innocents.”

“And it is Alexander Strike who this meeting has been called to discuss,” said Graves. He lifted a piece of paper from the stone table in front of him as if it were a distasteful object. “I have here his list of demands, which reached us after he was reportedly seen at the Panopticon, ‘rescuing’ Anastasia Tarquin from a very deserved punishment.”

“He sent a letter?” Tamara whispered. “Who does that?”

“What kind of demands?” snapped Master North. The rest of the group was abuzz.

“We have no reason to give in to any demands of his!” said Master Taisuke. “He is no longer holding hostages. We should not cooperate.”

“In a sense, he holds us all hostage,” said Rufus. “No one knows what a Devoured of chaos can do.”

“He can burn the forest,” said Tamara. “He can create black holes of chaos that only Call can dismantle. And Call practically killed himself doing it.”

Assemblyman Graves looked down his long nose at her. “Tamara Rajavi,” he said. “I’d imagine you’d want to hear this list of demands, since it specifically mentions you. Or would you rather chatter?”

Call grabbed Tamara’s hand under the table before she could climb over it and take a swing at Graves, who cleared his throat, perched a pair of glasses on his nose, and started to read.

To the mages of the Magisterium,

By now you know that I, Alexander Strike, have become a Devoured of chaos. I am chaos, and chaos is me. I can unleash the destructive power of chaos on the earth any time that I want. I can burn down cities and evaporate oceans. I can destroy the world.

You have only one chance, and that is to do whatever I say. I would consider a truce with the Magisterium if the mages are put immediately at my disposal to construct a stronghold for me. I have enclosed a drawing. It will be massive, made of marble and granite. I want it built near the Magisterium so every apprentice has to look at it whenever they’re outside of the caverns, and I want it to have a big movie room and also a balcony. It must dwarf any stronghold Constantine Madden ever had.

As soon as the stronghold is constructed, I will occupy it. Then you will bring me more things I want. Deliver to me Callum Hunt, Tamara Rajavi, and Jasper deWinter, and have them bound so they can’t do magic. In fact, have them gagged, especially Call. Lastly, I want Kimiya Rajavi delivered to me, though she will come willingly.

Alexander Strike.

“That’s ridiculous!” said Master Taisuke the moment Graves had finished, standing up to slam his hand down on the table. “It can’t really say that. It sounds like the petulant letter of a child! These aren’t reasonable requests. He wants us to build him a mansion and give him — what? His enemies to punish? A girl? He wishes to play at being some kind of villain from a fable?”

“He believes my daughter Kimiya was in love with him,” Mr. Rajavi said. “She is a foolish girl, but very ashamed of being led astray. Being with him again is the last thing she would wish.”

Graves gave him a skeptical look but didn’t comment.

“I saw Alex,” Mr. Rajavi went on. “He didn’t seem at all like the boy I remembered. He wore an enormous cape and seemed to delight in frightening us. All his demands might seem absurd, but he does really have power and the childishness of his desires. That, to my mind, makes them all the more frightening. A grown mind is reasonable, but a child’s mind is capricious.”

“A Devoured of chaos,” Assemblyman Graves said after a moment. “We have no experience with such a thing, do we?”

A silence followed.

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