The Iron Trial

by Holly Black

“Found it?” Tamara sounded highly suspicious.

  “I know you think he’s crazy —”

  “He threw a knife at you!”

  “He threw it to me,” said Call. “And then he sent this wristband to the Magisterium. I think he’s trying to tell them — to warn them about something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Something about me,” Call said.

  “You mean you’re in danger?”

  Tamara sounded alarmed, but Call didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to tell her more without telling her everything. What if there really was something wrong with him? If Tamara found out, would she keep his secret, no matter how bad it was?

  He wanted to trust her. She’d already told him more about the wristband than he’d figured out in months of staring at it.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Aaron asked, falling back to join them.

  Tamara immediately clammed up, her eyes darting between Aaron and Call. Call could tell that she wasn’t going to tell Aaron anything unless he said it was okay. It sparked a strangely warm feeling in his stomach. He’d never really had friends who’d kept his secrets before.

  It was enough to decide him. “We’re talking about this,” he said, pulling the wristband out of his pocket and handing it over to Aaron, who examined it while Call explained the whole story — his conversation with his father, the warning that Call didn’t know what he was, the letter Alastair had sent Rufus, the message with the wristband: Bind his magic.

  “Bind your magic?” Aaron’s voice rose. Tamara shushed him. Aaron returned his voice to a harsh whisper. “Why would he ask Rufus to do that? That’s crazy!”

  “I don’t know,” Call whispered back, looking up ahead anxiously. Alex and the other kids didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them as they made their way up a low rise of hill, snaked through with big tree roots, calling Drew’s name. “I don’t understand any of it.”

  “Well, clearly the wristband was supposed to be a message to Rufus,” Tamara said. “It means something. I just don’t know what.”

  “Maybe if we knew whose it was,” said Aaron. He handed the wristband to Call, who tied it onto his arm, above his own wristband and under his sleeve.

  “Someone who didn’t graduate. Someone who left the Magisterium when he or she was sixteen or seventeen — or someone who died here.” Tamara looked at it again, frowning at the small medals with symbols on them. “I don’t know exactly what these mean. Excellence in something, but what? If we knew, that would tell us something. And I don’t know what this black stone means either. I’ve never seen one before.”

  “Let’s ask Alex,” Aaron said.

  “No way,” said Call, shaking his head and looking warily at the others trooping through the snow in the dark. “What if there is something wrong with me and he can figure it out just from looking at this wristband?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Aaron said sturdily. But Aaron was the kind of person who had faith in people and believed stuff like that.

  “Alex!” Tamara said loudly. “Alex, can we ask you something?”

  “Tamara, no,” Call hissed, but the older student had already fallen back to walk alongside them.

  “What’s up?” he asked, blue eyes inquisitive. “You guys all right?”

  “I was just wondering if we could see your wristband,” Tamara said, with a quelling look in Call’s direction. Call relented.

  “Huh. Sure,” Alex agreed, unsnapping the band and handing it over. It had three stripes of metal on it, ending with bronze. It was also studded with gems: red and orange, blue and indigo and scarlet.

  “What are these for?” Tamara asked innocently, though Call had a feeling she probably knew the answer.

  “The completion of different tasks.” Alex sounded matter-of-fact, not like he was bragging. “This one is for using fire successfully to dispel an elemental. This one is for using air to create an illusion.”

  “What would it mean if you had a black one?” Aaron asked.

  Alex’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to answer at the same moment Jasper yelled, “Look!”

  A bright light glowed out from the ridge of the hill opposite theirs. As they stared, a scream split the night, high and terrible.

  “Stay here!” Alex barked, and started to run, half slipping down the side of the hill they were on, heading toward the light. Suddenly, the night was full of noise. Call could hear other groups shouting and calling to one another.

  Something slid through the sky above them — something scaly and snakelike — but Alex wasn’t looking up.

  “Alex!” Tamara yelled, but the older boy didn’t hear her — he had reached the other hill and was starting to scramble up it. The scaly shadow was over his head, swooping and dipping.

  The kids were all shouting for Alex now, trying to warn him — all of them except for Call. He started to run, ignoring the twisting burn in his leg as he slid and nearly fell down the hillside. He heard Tamara scream his name, and Jasper yell, “We’re supposed to stay here,” but Call didn’t slow. He was going to be the apprentice that Aaron thought he was, the one who there was nothing wrong with. He was going to do the kind of things that got you mysterious heroic achievements on your wristband. He was going to throw himself right into the fray.

  He tripped over a loose stone, fell, and rolled to the bottom of the hill, banging his elbow hard on a tree root. Okay, he thought, not the best start.

  Staggering to his feet, he started to climb again — he could see things more clearly now, in the light that poured down from the hilltop. It was a clear knifelike light that threw every pebble and hole into sharp relief. The rise grew steeper as Call reached the top; he fell to his knees and clambered the last few feet, rolling onto the flat surface of the hilltop.

  Something brushed past him then, something huge, something that brought a rush of air that sprayed dirt into his eyes. He choked and staggered to his feet.

  “Help!” he heard a weak voice call. “Please, help me!”

  Call looked around. The bright light was gone; there was only starlight and moonlight to illuminate the hilltop. It was covered with a tangle of roots and bushes. “Who’s there?” he said.

  He heard what sounded like a hiccuping sob. “Call?”

  Call started to blunder toward the voice, pushing through the undergrowth.

  From behind him, people were shouting his name. He kicked aside some rocks and half slid down a small incline. He found himself inside a shadowy depression in the ground, lined with thorny bushes. A huddled figure lay at the opposite side.

  “Drew?” Call called out.

  The slight boy struggled to turn around. Call could see that one of his feet was jammed in what looked like a gopher hole. It was twisted at an ugly, painful-looking angle.

  From behind him, two softly glowing orbs lit up the night. Call glanced back and realized they were floating over from the hill where the other students were standing. He could barely see the others from where he was, and he wasn’t sure they could see him at all.

  “Call?” The tears shining on Drew’s face were bright in the moonlight. Call scooted closer.

  “Are you stuck?” he asked.

  “Of — of course,” Drew whispered. “I try to run away, and this is as far as I get. It’s h-humiliating.”

  His teeth were chattering. He was wearing only a thin T-shirt and jeans. Call couldn’t believe he’d planned to run away from the Magisterium dressed like that.

  “Help me,” Drew said through chattering teeth. “Help me get free. I have to keep running.”

  “But I don’t get it. What’s wrong? Where are you going to go?”

  “I don’t know.” Drew’s face twisted. “You have no idea what Master Lemuel’s like. He — he figured out that sometimes when I’m under a lot of stress, I do better. Like a lot better. I know it’s weird, but it’s always been the way I am. I do better on a testing day than I ever do in normal practice. So he figured out
that he could make me better by keeping me under stress all the time. I barely … barely ever sleep. He only lets me eat sometimes and I never know when that’s going to be. He keeps scaring me, calling up illusions of monsters and elementals while I’m alone in the dark and I … I want to get better. I want to be a better mage, but I just …” He looked away and swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down. “I can’t.”

  Call looked at him more closely. It was true that Drew didn’t look like the boy Call had met on the bus to the Magisterium. He was thinner. A lot thinner. You could see how his jeans hung loose, secured by a belt that was pulled all the way through to the last hole. His nails were bitten down and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

  “Okay,” Call said. “But you’re not going to be able to run anywhere on this.” He leaned forward and put his hand on Drew’s ankle. It felt hot to the touch.

  Drew yelped. “That hurts!”

  Call eyed the ankle where it poked out below the hem of Drew’s jeans. It looked swollen and dark. “I think you might have broken a bone.”

  “Y-you do?” Drew sounded panicked.

  Call reached down inside himself, through himself, into the ground he was kneeling on. Earth wants to bind. He felt it give way under his touch, making a space where magic could spill in, the way water rose to fill up a hole scraped in the sand of a beach.

  Call drew the magic through himself, into his hand, letting it flow into Drew. Drew gave a gasp.

  Call pulled away. “Sorry —”

  “No.” Drew looked at him wonderingly. “It’s hurting less. It’s working.”

  Call had never done magic like that before. Healing had been something Master Rufus talked about, but they’d never practiced. But he’d managed it. Maybe there really was nothing wrong with him.

  “Drew! Call!” It was Alex, followed by a shining globe of light that lit the ends of his hair like a halo. He skidded down the slope of the incline, nearly knocking into them. His face was pale in the moonlight.

  Call moved away. “Drew’s stuck. I think his ankle’s broken.”

  Alex bent over the younger boy and touched the earth that was trapping his leg in place. Call felt stupid for not having thought of the same thing as the ground crumbled away and Alex locked his arms under Drew’s shoulders, pulling him free. Drew yelled aloud in pain.

  “Didn’t you hear me? His ankle’s broken —” Call started.

  “Call. There’s no time.” Alex knelt down to lift Drew in his arms. “We have to get out of here.”

  “W-what?” Drew seemed almost too stunned to function. “What’s going on?”

  Alex was scanning the area anxiously. Call suddenly remembered all the warnings about what lurked in the woods outside the caverns of the school.

  “The Chaos-ridden,” Call said. “They’re here.”

  A LOW HOWL CUT through the night. Alex started up the incline, gesturing impatiently for Call to follow. Call scrambled after him, his leg aching.

  When they reached the top, Call saw Aaron and Tamara coming over the crest of the hill, Celia, Jasper, and Rafe right behind. They were panting, alert.

  “Drew!” Tamara gasped, staring at the limp figure in Alex’s arms.

  “Chaos-ridden animals,” Aaron said, coming to a stop in front of Call and Alex. “They’re coming up over the far side of the hill —”

  “What kind?” Alex asked urgently.

  “Wolves,” said Jasper, pointing.

  Still holding Drew in his arms, Alex turned and stared in horror. Moonlight showed dark shapes slipping from the woods, advancing toward them. Five wolves, long and lean, with fur the color of a stormy sky. Their snouts scented the air, their coruscating eyes wild and strange.

  Alex bent down and laid Drew carefully on the ground. “Listen to me,” he shouted to the other students, who were milling fearfully. “Make a circle around us while I heal Drew. They have a sense for the weak, the wounded. They’ll attack.”

  “We only have to hold off the Chaos-ridden until the Masters get here,” Tamara said, charging in front of Alex.

  “Right, hold them off, that’s simple,” Jasper spat out, but he fell into formation with the others, making a circle of their bodies, with their backs to Alex and Drew. Call found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with Celia and Jasper. Celia’s teeth were chattering.

  The Chaos-ridden wolves appeared, low and feral, spilling up over the ridge like shadows. They were huge, much bigger than any wolves Call had ever imagined. Ropes of drool hung from their open jaws. Their eyes burned and spun, sparking that feeling inside Call’s head again, the itchy-burning-thirsty one. Chaos, he thought to himself. Chaos wants to devour.

  As terrifying as they were, though, the more Call looked at them, the more he thought their eyes were beautiful, like the inside of a kaleidoscope, a thousand different colors all at once. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  “Call!” Tamara’s voice cut through his thoughts — Call jolted back into his body, realizing suddenly that he had stepped out of the formation and was several feet ahead of the rest of the group. He hadn’t moved away from the wolves. He’d moved toward them.

  A hand grabbed at his wrist — Tamara, looking terrified but determined. “Would you STOP?” she demanded, and started trying to drag him back toward the others.

  Everything after that happened very fast. Tamara tugged Call back; Call resisted. His weak leg went out from under him and he fell, his elbows jamming painfully into the stony ground. Tamara drew her hand back and made a gesture like she was throwing a baseball. A circle of fire shot from her palm, toward a wolf that was suddenly very close.

  The fire exploded along its fur and the wolf howled, baring a mouth full of sharp teeth. But it kept coming — in fact, its fur was now standing on end as if it had been electrified. Its red tongue lolled from its mouth as it stalked closer and closer. It was only feet away from Call, and he struggled to get his legs under him, Tamara reaching down to slide her hands under his arms, trying to haul him up. The Chaos-ridden couldn’t be chased off like a wyvern. They didn’t care about anything but teeth and blood and madness.

  “Tamara! Call! Get back here!” Aaron shouted. He sounded scared. The Chaos-ridden wolves were stalking closer, surrounding Call and Tamara, the knot of apprentices forgotten. Alex was in their midst, holding the unconscious Drew. Alex looked frozen, his eyes and mouth wide.

  Call staggered to his feet, shoving Tamara behind him. He locked his gaze with the wolf closest to him. The wolf’s eyes still spun, red and gold, the color of fire.

  This is it, Call thought. His mind seemed to have slowed down. He felt like he was moving underwater.

  My father was right. All along, he was right. We’re going to die here.

  He wasn’t angry … but he wasn’t scared, either. Tamara was struggling, trying to pull him backward. But he couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move. The oddest feeling was pulsing through him, like a gathering knot under his ribs. He could feel the strange wristband on his arm throb.

  “Tamara,” he breathed. “Go back.”

  “No!” She yanked at the back of his shirt. Call stumbled — and the wolf sprang.

  Someone — maybe Celia, maybe Jasper — screamed. The wolf leaped through the air, terrible and beautiful, its coat shedding sparks. Call began to raise his hands.

  A shadow passed across Call’s vision — someone skidding to a stop between him and the wolf, someone with light hair, someone who planted his feet and thrust out both his arms as if he could hold the wolf back with his hands. Alex, Call thought at first, dizzily, and then, with a cold sense of shock: Aaron.

  “No!” he called, jerking forward, but Tamara would not let him go. “Aaron, no!”

  The other apprentices were shouting, too, calling to Aaron. Alex had left Drew’s side and was pushing his way toward them.

  Aaron didn’t move. His feet were planted so firmly in the ground, it was as if they had taken root there. His hands were up, palms out, and from the ce
nters of his palms spilled something like smoke — it was blacker than black, dense and sinuous, and Call knew, without knowing how, that it was the darkest substance in the world.

  With a howl, the wolf contorted its body, twisting aside so that it landed awkwardly on the ground, only feet from Tamara and Call. Its fur stood up all over, its eyes pinwheeling madly. The other wolves howled and whimpered, adding their voices to the madness of the night.

  “Aaron, what are you doing?” Tamara said so quietly that Call wasn’t sure Aaron heard her. “Are you doing that?”

  But Aaron didn’t seem to hear. Darkness poured from his hands; his hair and shirt were stuck to his body with sweat. The darkness swirled faster, velvety tendrils of it wrapping around the Chaos-ridden pack. The wind picked up, making the trees shudder. The ground shook. The wolves tried to back up, to run, but they were fenced in by darkness — darkness that had become a solid thing, a contracting prison.

  Call’s heart was hammering sickly. He felt a sudden pulsing terror at the idea of being trapped inside that darkness, of the nothingness closing in, erasing him, consuming him.

  Devouring him.

  “Aaron!” he shouted, but the wind was thrashing through the trees now, obliterating sound. “Aaron, stop!”

  Call could see the glittering, panicked eyes of the Chaos-ridden wolves. For a moment, they turned toward him, sparks in the darkness. Then the blackness closed around them, and they were gone.

  Aaron dropped to his knees as if he’d been shot. He knelt, panting, one hand over his stomach, as the wind dropped away and the ground settled. The apprentices were utterly silent, staring. Alex’s lips were moving, but no words were coming out. Call looked for the wolves, but there were now only roiling masses of darkness dissipating like smoke where they’d been.

  “Aaron.” Tamara broke away from Call and ran over to Aaron, bending down to put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, my God, Aaron, Aaron —”

  The other apprentices had begun to whisper. “What’s going on?” Rafe said, his voice plaintive. “What happened?”

  Tamara was patting Aaron’s back, making soothing noises. Call knew he should join her, but he felt frozen. He couldn’t stop remembering the way Aaron had looked right before the darkness devoured the wolf, the way he’d seemed to be summoning up something, calling something — and that was what had come.