Master Joseph’s gaze flickered toward the thick shadows where Call and Stanley stood. Call froze, trying to be as still as possible. He didn’t even want to breathe for fear that he’d be noticed. Aaron and the others must have sensed that something was wrong, since they stayed safe in the stairway. As usual, Stanley took Call’s lead and remained still as well.
Alastair followed Master Joseph’s gaze to where Call and Stanley stood in the dim light. “Chaos-ridden. You shouldn’t just leave them around like that.”
“Every tomb needs sentries,” Master Joseph said. Maybe it was normal to find random Chaos-ridden wandering around the tomb of Constantine Madden. Maybe he was just distracted by Alastair. “Your boy is dead. But he can rise again. You’ve raised Constantine, who was the greatest mage of our time, perhaps of any time, and who will be again. Once restored to his own body, he will be able to draw your son’s soul back into his body. If you’ve truly repaired the Alkahest, then all we need is Callum.”
“I need a demonstration that the Alkahest won’t kill him outright,” Alastair said. “I told you I wouldn’t bring him to you unless I knew he’d be safe.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Master Joseph said. “I made sure Callum would be joining us.”
Alastair took a step toward Master Joseph, and Call saw that Alastair was wearing the Alkahest on his left hand. It glittered as he moved his fingers, looking just like it had in the picture. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that he left the Magisterium looking for you, of course. Trying to save you from the wrath of the mages. I knew where he’d go, so I left him a trail to lead him straight to us. I even sent an escort to bring him safely here. I promise you, Alastair, I take great pains for his safety. He means far more to me than he does to you.”
Call’s heart thundered in his chest. He thought of the letters — the latitude and longitude carefully sketched out in each one, the mention of the specific date of the meeting, a meeting happening in just enough time for them to make it. Call had thought he’d been lucky, that he’d been one step ahead of the adults. But he’d been playing right into Master Joseph’s hands.
For a moment, Call lost his nerve. He was just a kid. His friends were just kids, even if one of them was the Makar. What if they were in over their heads? What if they couldn’t help?
Alastair started speaking, and for a moment, Call couldn’t even focus.
“I can assure you you’re wrong,” Alastair was saying. “Callum means far more to me than he ever will to you. Stay away from him. I don’t know if he’s the greatest mage of his generation or any of that — but he’s a good kid. No one has broken him the way you broke the Madden brothers. I remember them, Joseph, and I remember what you did to them.”
Call felt an ache in his chest. Alastair didn’t sound like he hated Call, even though he’d come here to trade for a new son.
“Stop waving the Alkahest around. You know that thing can’t hurt me,” Master Joseph said, raising his staff. “Much as I wish I had the ability to use chaos magic, I don’t, so there’s no point in threatening me with it. The only reason the Chaos-ridden listen to me is because Constantine commanded it.”
“I’m not here to threaten you, Joseph,” Alastair said, taking a step toward the body of Constantine Madden.
Master Joseph frowned. “All right. Enough. Give me the Alkahest. I’d like to reward you, but don’t think for a moment that I would hesitate to kill you if you resist me. Very convenient, dying in a tomb. Won’t have to go far to bury you.”