The Bronze Key (Magisterium #3)- Holly Black Page 0,29

you are losing sight of the big picture here,” said Aaron as they rounded a corner where the corridor narrowed. “What if Celia’s the murderer?”

“What?” said Call.

“Well, she came when she knew you’d be alone in the library,” Aaron pointed out.

“To see if I was going to ask her out,” Call said.

“That’s her cover story. I bet she showed up and sensed something wasn’t right, so she bluffed.”

“Why would Celia want to kill Call?” Tamara demanded. They had reached their rooms, and she used her wristband to pop the door open. They went inside the dim living area. Havoc quickly leaped up on the sofa and stretched out luxuriantly, ready to sleep.

“Yeah,” Call said. “Why would she want to kill me?”

“She could be working for an organization,” Aaron replied stubbornly. “Look, Drew had a totally fictitious background. He wasn’t who he said he was. Master Rufus said there was a spy. She could be the spy.”

Call shook his head, unbuckling Miri from his belt and laying the knife down on the kitchen table. “Celia comes from an old magic family. She is who she says she is.”

“How do you know?” Aaron continued. “Just because she told you about some aunt doesn’t make it true. Or maybe the whole family supports the Enemy. Remember how you thought the note came from her? What if it did come from her? That’s a simpler explanation than anything else. Besides, if you could tell she was a spy, she wouldn’t be a very good spy, would she?”

“You might as well accuse Havoc of being a spy,” said Call. They all looked at Havoc. He was asleep, his tongue hanging down to the floor. As he slept, his feet paddled as if he were going after an imaginary duck.

“I’m not saying we should drag her in front of the Assembly right now,” Aaron said. “Just that we should keep an eye on her. In fact, we should keep an eye on anyone behaving weirdly.”

“Wanting Call to ask her out isn’t weird,” said Tamara, rubbing Havoc’s stomach. “Well, maybe a little weird, but not illegal.”

“Thanks,” said Call. “Thanks for the support.” He picked up Miri and headed toward his bedroom, then turned around in the doorway to look back at Aaron. “I’m going to sleep.”

“So am I.” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sleeping on the floor in front of your room. In case anything tries to attack in the night.”

Call slumped. “Do you have to?”

In answer, Aaron lay down on the floor in front of Call’s bedroom door, recrossed his arms over his chest, and shut his eyes. Havoc flopped down beside him.

Traitor, Call thought. With a sigh, he retreated into his bedroom, shutting his door firmly.

The room was lit with dim phosphorescent light. Call kicked his boots off and went to sit down on the bed. His leg was aching. He felt tired and dispirited and more annoyed about Celia and Jasper than he would have anticipated. He could see his own reflection in the wardrobe mirror. He looked tired. The room was full of shadows behind him.

Call froze.

One of the shadows was moving.

CALL WANTED TO scream. He knew he should scream, but surprise and terror robbed him of breath. The shadow moved again, uncoiling against the uneven rock of the ceiling. As it slithered closer to the phosphorescent moss, Call’s panicked hope that it was just a trick of the light was dashed.

It was a huge air elemental, whip-fast and insubstantial in places. It looked like an enormous eel from the deepest part of the ocean — if eels had huge, tooth-filled mouths on either side of their long bodies. It moved sluggishly, like dank, humid air at the edge of a storm.

“Aaron,” he tried to yell, but his voice came out as a whisper too soft to be heard by anyone but the elemental. One of its heads pulled away from the ceiling with a wet, sucking sound and dangled down toward him. Its mouth opened, and Call could see that despite being formed of ephemeral air, the thing had teeth that seemed very real and very sharp. The skin around its mouth was pulled back so that its maw was in a perpetual rictus grin. It looked like it was going to bite him in half and then laugh about it. It had no eyes, just indentations in its head.

Miri, he thought. The knife Alastair had given him, the one made by his mother. It was on the nightstand,