The cauldron of chili had been moved to the center of the table, where it bubbled deliciously, a mound of cheese atop it. More cheese was grated onto a plate, along with chopped green onions and a tub of sour cream. Golden squares of corn bread were stacked in the shape of a ziggurat beside a slab of butter with a knife sticking out of it and a jar of honey. On the nearby sideboard sat three pies — two pecan and one sweet potato. Call’s stomach growled loudly enough for Jasper to turn in surprise, as though a Chaos-ridden wolf might be behind him.
A Chaos-ridden person slapped down a pitcher of what looked like sweet tea, hard enough to spill some, then looked at Call with an empty expression, tipped its head toward him in a kind of bow, and left the room. Call wondered at the violence with which the Chaos-ridden moved. He’d always thought they fought because they’d been commanded to, but maybe they had a bent toward murderousness.
Then he was too busy drooling to wonder about anything else.
Master Joseph looked pleased by their reactions. “Sit, sit. The others will be with us in a moment.”
After many months in prison eating disgusting prison food, Call needed no urging. He slid into a seat and tucked the cloth napkin into his shirt eagerly.
“Do you think it might be poisoned?” Tamara whispered, sitting down beside him. Jasper sat on her other side, leaning in to hear what she was saying.
“He’s going to eat it, too,” said Call, cutting his gaze toward Master Joseph.
“He could have taken the antidote,” Tamara insisted. “And given it to Alex and Anastasia.”
“He wouldn’t kidnap you and Call and give you customized bedrooms just to poison you,” Jasper whispered back to them. “You’re both idiots. The only person he would poison is me.”
The doors opened and Anastasia came in, followed by Alex. Call had almost forgotten they knew each other well — Anastasia had married Alex’s father in an attempt to conceal her identity as Eliza Madden. She looked regal in a white pantsuit, her hair drawn back in a smooth chignon. Alex had on jeans and a black shirt with a death’s-head moth on the front. It was actually kind of cool, and Call found himself wishing he had one. (On the other hand, it did seem like the kind of thing an Evil Overlord might wear.)
Alex sat down and immediately started dishing himself up some chili. Once he was done, Jasper snatched the spoon from him and pretty soon everyone was digging into their food (except Anastasia, who took only some corn bread and nibbled on the edge).
At the first bite of chili, the flavors exploded in Call’s mouth — sweet, spicy, smoky. It wasn’t prison food, and it wasn’t lichen. “The food of evil is so good,” he muttered to Tamara, on his left.
“That’s how they get you,” she muttered back, but she was already on her second helping of corn bread.
“This is delightful,” said Master Joseph, gazing around with a deceptively benign air. “I remember such meals with Constantine and his friends. Jasper, you make an excellent Alastair Hunt, and you, Tamara, of course would be Sarah.”
Tamara looked horrified at the idea of being Call’s mom. Call was just horrified by the whole conversation.
“Uh-huh,” said Alex, looking like he was enjoying himself. “So who am I, then?”
“Not Jericho,” said Anastasia flatly.
“You’re Declan,” said Master Joseph. “He was a nice boy.”
Declan Novak had been Call’s uncle. He’d died in the Cold Massacre, protecting Call’s mother. Though he’d never met Declan, Call was sure he was nothing like Alex.
“I ought to be Constantine,” Alex muttered. His gaze went to the other room, where the silver mask and the Alkahest hung over the fireplace.
“Wow,” said Jasper loudly, breaking the uncomfortable silence that followed this pronouncement. “Who’s ready for pie? I know I am.”
He stood up with his plate, but Master Joseph gestured for him to stay where he was.
“Let Call choose the first piece of pie,” said Master Joseph. “In this house, all things serve the Enemy of Death.”
Alex banged his fork down. “So we’re supposed to do whatever Call says just because he’s got some dead guy’s soul?”
“Yes,” said Master Joseph, looking narrowly at Alex.
Jasper swallowed and sat down, pieless.
“Call doesn’t even want it!” Alex burst out. “He doesn’t care about making more Chaos-ridden! He doesn’t want to lead an army against the Magisterium!”
“There is no Call,” said Master Joseph. “There is only Constantine Madden. It’s our job to make Callum Hunt understand who he is.”
“That’s not true,” said Tamara, voice shaking. “Call is Call. Whatever made Constantine so messed up, it didn’t happen to Call.”
“What made Constantine so messed up, young lady,” said Master Joseph, “was losing his best friend, his brother. His counterweight. Are you saying that hasn’t happened to Call?”
At the mention of Aaron, Call saw red. He grabbed the dull knife from beside his plate and pointed it toward Alex. “I didn’t lose my best friend. Alex murdered him. He stole his Makar power. But he’ll never be half of what Aaron was.”
Alex’s eyes burned with fury. “I am twice any of you! I taught myself to modify the Alkahest and took the power of commanding chaos from another mage. I am the first Makar ever to have done that. I learned to create Chaos-ridden in mere months while you’ve never done it!”
Call thought of how his attempt at bringing back Jennifer Matsui had gone and said nothing.
“You’re disgusting,” Tamara said. “Being proud of that is disgusting.”
“Both of you!” Master Joseph reprimanded. “All of you! I know it will be difficult to find common ground, but this isn’t helping. You’ve accomplished many things, Alex, but all of them were built on the foundation of Constantine’s discoveries. Let’s give Call an opportunity to find who he is — if he doesn’t, I will strip the power from him myself.”
Call caught his breath, thinking of the Alkahest and what it could do. Master Joseph had spent years wishing for the power of chaos. Now he could have it, if he was willing to take it.
Jasper stood up and cut himself a large slice of pecan pie. Everyone stopped yelling and watched him as he put it on his own plate, sat down, and forked a big delicious-looking bite into his mouth.
“What?” he asked when he noticed them looking. “This is helping. Now they don’t have to fight over who gets the first slice.”
Alex looked like he might jump over the table and strangle Jasper. Call often felt the same way. But right then, Jasper’s obnoxiousness seemed downright heroic.
Master Joseph sliced more pie, and Call ate an enormous piece of sweet potato and pecan, punctuating each bite with a vicious glare, trying to show dominance through superior pie eating. Alex’s pie game was pathetic; he picked the nuts off the top of his pie and out of the middle, leaving the crust and the topping still on his plate. Call sneered at him.
Finally, Master Joseph stood up. “This has been a long day and it seems like it’s time for rest. Call, there is ground hamburger meat for Havoc in the refrigerator. Help yourself to anything you need. I hope that you’ve realized the foolishness of trying to leave us. There are Chaos-ridden at every door to prevent your departure.”