Once the room had quieted down, Graves resumed speaking. “Thanks to the efforts of our honorees this evening, we are having a very different discussion than we could have anticipated having. Constantine Madden is dead.” He looked around the room as if waiting for that information to sink in. Call couldn’t help feeling that if it hadn’t sunk in yet, it never would, given how many times The Enemy of Death is dead! had been repeated during the honoring ceremony. “And yet” — Graves slammed his hand down on the table, making Call jump — “we cannot rest! Constantine Madden might be defeated, but his army is still out there. We must strike now and root out the Chaos-ridden and all of Constantine’s allies.”

A murmur went around the room. “No one has been able to detect any sign of the Chaos-ridden since Madden’s death,” said Master North. “It’s as if they disappeared when he died.”

Several mages looked hopeful at this, but Graves only shook his head grimly. “They are out there somewhere. We must assemble teams to hunt them down and destroy them.”

Call felt a little queasy. The Chaos-ridden were basically mindless zombies, all their humanity pushed out to make room for chaos. But he’d heard them speak. Seen them move, even kneel to him. The idea of a pyre of their burning bodies made his stomach turn.

“What about Chaos-ridden animals?” asked Anastasia Tarquin. “Most of them never served the Enemy of Death; they’re the descendants of the unfortunate creatures that did. Unlike the Chaos-ridden people, they’re alive, not reanimated bodies.”

“Still, they’re dangerous. I move that we exterminate them all,” Graves said.

“Not Havoc!” Call yelled before anyone could stop him.

The members of the Assembly turned in his direction. Anastasia had a small smile on her face, as though she’d enjoyed his outburst. She seemed like someone who didn’t mind when things didn’t go the way everyone else expected. Her gaze slid to Aaron, gauging his reaction.

“The pet of the Makaris,” she said, looking back at Call. “Surely Havoc can be exempted.”

“And the Order of Disorder has been studying other Chaos-ridden beasts. Keeping some alive for their research has value,” added Rufus.

The Order of Disorder was a small group of rebellious mages who lived in the woods just outside the Magisterium, studying chaos magic. Call wasn’t sure what he thought of them. They’d tried to force Aaron to stay and help with their chaos experiments. They hadn’t been nice about it, either.

“Yes, yes,” said Graves dismissively. “Perhaps a small number can be saved, although I have never much cared for the Order of Disorder, as you well know. We need to keep an eye on them, to be sure that none of Constantine’s conspirators are hiding out among them. And we need to find Master Joseph. We cannot forget that he’s still dangerous and will almost certainly attempt to use the Alkahest against us.”

Anastasia Tarquin made a small note on a paper. Several other mages murmured among themselves; quite a few were sitting up straight, trying to make themselves look important. Master Rufus was nodding, but Call suspected he didn’t much like Graves, either.

“Lastly, we must make sure that Callum Hunt and Aaron Stewart use their Makar abilities in the service of the Assembly and the larger mage community. Master Rufus, it is going to be integral that you report regularly on their teaching as they move into their Bronze, Silver, and Gold Years, readying themselves to go to the Collegium.”

“They are my apprentices.” Master Rufus raised a single brow. “I need to have independence to teach them as I see fit.”

“We can discuss that later,” said Graves. “They are Makars before they are students of the Magisterium. It would be well for both you and them to remember that.”

Aaron shot Call a worried glance. Master Rufus looked grim.

Graves went on. “Due to the Magisterium’s proximity to the largest number of Chaos-ridden animals, we’re going to expect the school to take point on their destruction.”

“You can’t possibly expect the students of the Magisterium to spend their school time murdering animals,” protested Master Rufus, rising to his feet. “I object strongly to this suggestion. Master North?”

“I agree with Rufus,” said Master North, after a pause.

“They’re not animals. They’re monsters,” Graves argued. “The woods around the Magisterium have been full of them for years, and we haven’t treated the situation with the seriousness that we could, because the Enemy could always have made more. But now — now we have a chance to exterminate them.”

“They may be monsters,” said Rufus, “but they look like animals. And there are those, like Havoc, who give us all pause and reason to wonder if they might be saved rather than destroyed. Surely it is in the interests of the whole mage world for our students to learn mercy. Constantine Madden,” he added, in a low voice, “never did.”

Graves shot him a look of something very close to hatred. “Fine,” he said in a clipped voice. “The removal of the Chaos-ridden animals will be dealt with by a team headed up by myself and other members of the Assembly. Please don’t expect me to entertain any complaining about how we’ll be cluttering up the woods where your students practice. This is more important than your school.”

“Of course,” Master Rufus said, still in the same low voice. Call tried to catch his eye, but Rufus was imperturbable.

“That leaves us with one last point of business,” said Graves. “The spy.”

This time the murmur that ran around the table was very loud indeed.

“We have reason to believe there is a spy in the Magisterium,” Graves pronounced. “Someone freed the elemental monster Automotones and sent him to kill the Makar Aaron Stewart.”

Everyone looked at Call and Aaron.

“Yep,” Call said. “That did happen.”

Graves nodded. “We will be placing various spy traps in the school, and Anastasia will be guarding the tunnels where the great elementals are kept. The spy will be caught and dealt with appropriately.”

Spy traps? Aaron mouthed to Call. Call tried not to laugh, because what he was picturing was a big pit in the ground hidden with important papers or something. But since, for once, it seemed like the Assembly and the Magisterium had an actual plan to take care of a real danger, maybe Call could spend his Bronze Year just learning stuff and getting into the regular, fun kind of trouble instead of the world-ruining kind.