“They don’t all think that,” said Tamara in a small voice. “But most of them, yeah.”

“Call, Tamara,” Anastasia directed from the porch, “come inside.” She narrowed her eyes. “You, too, Jasper.”

Grumbling, Jasper finally hopped out of the prison van.

“When did you learn to drive?” Call asked Tamara.

“Kimiya taught me,” Tamara answered as they went up the front steps. “I told her I needed to be distracted from — you know. Thinking about you and Aaron.”

You and Aaron. Aaron had died and Call had lived but it must have seemed like a sort of living death to Tamara, Call trapped in the Panopticon and everyone else believing he was evil.

He realized how terrified he’d been that Tamara would believe the same thing about him. He felt almost weak with relief that apparently she didn’t.

Inside, the house had a pretty living room, with lace curtains and small tables covered in doilies. There was a pitcher of lemonade on a coffee table. It was welcoming, but the way a candy-covered witch’s house was welcoming. Still, he wasn’t going to complain. He wasn’t in jail and Tamara was here. They’d even brought Havoc.

“Let me see those cuffs,” Tamara said as Call sat down on the first couch he’d encountered in months. Who would have thought you could miss couches? Tamara frowned. “What are these made out of? It isn’t metal.”

“You can’t remove them without special tools,” Anastasia informed her. “Unfortunately, I don’t have those here.” She stood up. “Call, come with me. I’ll see if I can improvise something.”

Not knowing how long he had with Tamara, he was reluctant to give up any time with her, but the cuffs did need to come off. Reluctantly, he stood and followed Anastasia into the kitchen.

She pointed to a stool. There was a big, heavy black bag on the counter, like an old-fashioned doctor’s tool kit. Reaching inside, she brought out a few crystals, which she set on a tray. Then she turned on the burner beneath them.

As they heated, she turned toward Call. “It was unfortunate we couldn’t get to you sooner,” she said. “I know it was hard on you, waiting.”

Call shifted in his seat. Anastasia acted like she knew what Call was thinking or feeling a lot. Sometimes she was right, sometimes she wasn’t, but her conviction never wavered.

She had another conviction, too, one she’d mentioned to him the only time she’d ever visited him in the Panopticon. She believed that since she was Constantine Madden’s mother, she was Call’s mother, too.

Call didn’t think it worked that way. But he knew better than to argue with Anastasia. She seemed absolutely sure of herself. He’d decided to just never mention it again and hope it wouldn’t come up.

“Tamara, of course, was devastated not to be able to visit you,” she added.

Call wanted to believe that was true. “She’s a good friend.”

“Friend?” Anastasia laughed a tinkling laugh. “She has such a crush on you. I think it’s sweet.”

Call stared at Anastasia, his mind reeling. Tamara didn’t have a crush on him! That was ridiculous. Tamara was beautiful and smart and rich and had perfect eyebrows.

As long as he’d known Tamara, he’d known he was out of her league. He remembered watching her dancing with Aaron at the beginning of his Copper Year. They’d looked good together. He’d known he would never look good with Tamara. If they danced together — even if he could keep up with the way his leg was — he was sure he’d step on her feet.

The crystals started making an odd keening noise and Anastasia turned off the stove. “Earth and fire together,” she explained. “Easier to draw on this way. “

Then with one hand she reached out and melted the chain connecting the cuffs. Call had to shift abruptly to avoid getting splashed with liquid metal. It hit the linoleum and smoked ominously, the plastic blackening around the spatters.

Anastasia frowned at the floor. “This is all I can do for now, but it should give you greater movement until we remove the cuffs themselves.”

Call was barely paying attention. He was staring at the melting floor and wondering: Could it be true? Could Tamara really like him? Anastasia was kind of weird and maybe a little crazy. She probably didn’t know what she was talking about.

But what if she did?

“Go on back to the living room,” Anastasia told him. “I’ll be along in a moment, after I clean things up.”

Mechanically, Call returned to where Tamara and Jasper were discussing the house.

“Anastasia found us this safe house where we can hide out from the mages,” Tamara was saying. “She put disruptive air magic around it to keep it from being found. We can hide out and make our next plans.”

Call stared at her as though she wasn’t one of his best friends. As though he hadn’t shared a common room with her for the past three years. No, Tamara couldn’t like him. If anything, she’d liked Aaron. “How long before you have to go back to the Magisterium?” he blurted out. “I mean, they’re going to notice you’re gone.”

Great, he thought. It sounds like I want to get rid of her. He had the horrifying thought that he might be as tongue-tied around Tamara as he’d been around Celia after he found out she wanted to go on a date with him. What if he ruined their friendship? What if he made a fool of himself?

Tamara didn’t meet his eyes. “I can’t go back, Call.”

“What about me?” Jasper yelled. “What about me going back to school? I have to go! Celia is there!”

Call couldn’t quite process the sacrifice Tamara was planning to make.

“Ever?” Call asked her. “You can’t go back to school ever?”

Maybe he did have devastating charm after all. Maybe she really did like him. Or maybe she was a really great friend.

Maybe he was never going to know.

Tamara gave Call a long look. “I’m not going to sit around learning magic while apprentices are talking about the mages catching you and chopping off your head. I’m not going back unless you’re coming with me. And to do that, we’re going to have to clear your name.”

Call swallowed hard. He knew the other students would say terrible things about him, but he hadn’t thought about the whole head-chopping part. Worse, he didn’t think there was a way to clear his name — not as long as everyone thought it was secretly Constantine Madden.

“Are you listening to yourselves?” Jasper demanded. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“I don’t know yet,” Tamara admitted. “But Ravan helped before and she’ll help with this.”

“Ravan?” Jasper said. “That was Ravan back at the Panopticon? Tamara, you can’t trust one of the Devoured, even if she was once your sister!”

Call’s mind was whirling, still thinking of what Tamara had done by breaking him out of prison. And with Anastasia Tarquin, of all people. How had Tamara and Anastasia wound up working together? What did Anastasia want?

As Jasper and Tamara kept on bickering, Call found himself staring at Tamara, memorizing her — her eyes, her tone of voice when she was annoyed, the slant of her mouth as she smiled. He was afraid he was going to lose her again. He was used to them being in trouble and having an unlikely scheme for getting out of it. He was used to them dragging an unwilling Jasper into that scheme. But before, Aaron had always been with them.