THE NEXT DAY was more sand and more tiredness. That night in the Refectory, Call slumped down at the table with his plate of lichen and a pile of cookies that appeared to sparkle with crystalline chunks. Celia bit into one and it made a sound like cracking glass.

“These are safe to eat, right?” Call asked Tamara, who was spooning up some kind of purple pudding that stained her lips and tongue a deep indigo.

She rolled her eyes. There were dark smudges under them, but she was, as always, otherwise composed. Resentment twinged in Call’s chest. Tamara was a robot, he decided. A robot with no human feelings. He hoped she shorted out.

Celia, seeing the ferocious way he was looking at Tamara, tried to say something, but her mouth was full of cookie. A few seats down, Aaron was saying. “All we do is divide sand into piles. For hours and hours. I mean, I’m sure it’s for a reason, but —”

“Well, I feel sorry for you,” Jasper interrupted. “Master Lemuel’s apprentices have been fighting elementals and we’ve been doing awesome things with Master Milagros. We made fireballs, and she showed us how to use the metal in the earth to levitate ourselves. I got almost an inch off the ground.”

“Wow,” said Call, his voice dripping contempt. “A whole inch.”

Jasper whipped around on Call, eyes bright with anger. “It’s because of you that Aaron and Tamara have to suffer. Because you did so badly in the tests. That’s why your whole group is stuck in the sandbox while the rest of us get to hit the playing field.”

Call felt the blood rush up into his face. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. He saw Aaron, down the table, shake his head and start to speak. But Jasper wasn’t stopping. With a sneer, he added, “And I wouldn’t be so snotty about levitating if I was you, Hunt. If you could ever learn to levitate yourself, maybe you wouldn’t slow down Tamara and Aaron so much, limping along after them.”

The moment after the words left his mouth, Jasper looked shocked, like even he hadn’t expected to go so far.

It wasn’t the first time anyone had ever said something like that to Call, but it was always like a bucket of cold water being thrown in his face.

Aaron sat up straight, eyes wide. Tamara slammed her hand down on the table. “Shut up, Jasper! We’re not sorting sand because of Call. We’re sorting sand because of me. It’s my fault, okay?”

“What? No!” Jasper seemed totally confused. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to upset Tamara. Maybe he’d even hoped to impress her. “You did really well at the Trial. We all did, except him. He took my spot. Your Master felt sorry for him and wanted —”

Aaron stood up, gripping his fork in his hand. He looked furious.

“It wasn’t your spot,” he spat out at Jasper. “It’s more than just points. It’s about who the Master wants to teach — and I can see exactly why Master Rufus didn’t want you.”

He’d said it loudly enough that people at nearby tables were staring. With a last disgusted look at Jasper, Aaron threw the fork he was holding onto the table and stalked off, his shoulders stiff.

Jasper turned back to Tamara. “I guess you have two crazy people in your group, not just one.”

Tamara gave Jasper a long, considering look. Then she picked up her bowl of pudding and turned it upside down on top of his head. Purple goop ran down his face. He yelped in surprise.

For a moment, Call was too shocked to react. Then he burst out laughing. So did Celia. Laughter broke out up and down the table as Jasper wrestled the bowl off his head. Call laughed even harder.

Tamara wasn’t laughing, though. She looked like she couldn’t believe she’d lost her composure so thoroughly. She stood frozen for a long moment, then stumbled to her feet and ran for the door in the direction Aaron had gone. Across the room, her sister, Kimiya, disapprovingly watched her go, arms crossed over her chest.

Jasper threw his bowl onto the table and shot Call a look of pure, anguished hatred. His hair was coated with pudding.

“Could have been worse,” Call said. “Could have been that green stuff.”

Master Milagros appeared at Jasper’s side. She shoved some napkins at him and demanded to know what had happened. Master Lemuel, who had been sitting at the closest table, rose and came over to lecture everyone, joined halfway through by Master Rufus, whose face was as impassive as ever. The babble of adult voices went on, but Call wasn’t paying attention.

In his whole twelve years, Call couldn’t remember anyone but his dad ever defending him. Not when people kicked his weak leg out from under him during soccer, or laughed at him for being benched during gym class or picked last for every team. He thought of Tamara dumping the pudding on Jasper’s head and then of Aaron saying It’s more than just points. It’s about who the Master wants to teach, and he felt a little warm glow inside.

Then he thought about the real reason Master Rufus wanted to teach him, and the glow went out.

Call walked back to their rooms alone, through echoing rock passageways. When he got there, Tamara was sitting on the couch, her hands curved around a steaming stone cup. Aaron was talking to her in a low voice.

“Hey,” Call said, standing awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if he should leave or not. “Thanks for — well, just thanks.”

Tamara looked up at him with a sniff. “Are you coming in or not?”

Since it would be even more awkward to linger around in the hallway, Call let the door swing shut behind him and started toward his room.

“Call, stay,” Tamara said.

He turned to look at her and Aaron, who was sitting on the arm of the sofa, dividing anxious glances between Call and Tamara. Tamara’s dark hair was still perfect and her back straight, but her face was blotchy, like she’d been crying. Aaron’s eyes were troubled.

“What happened with the sand was my fault,” Tamara said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got you in trouble. I’m sorry I suggested something so dangerous in the first place. And I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”

Call shrugged. “I asked you to come up with an idea — any idea. It wasn’t your fault.”

She gave him a strange look. “But I thought you were mad?”

Aaron nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we thought you were angry with us. You didn’t say practically anything for three whole weeks.”

“No,” Call said. “You didn’t say anything to me for three whole weeks. You guys were the ones who were mad.”

Aaron’s green eyes went wide. “Why would we be mad at you? You got in trouble with Rufus; we didn’t. You didn’t blame it on us, even though you could have.”

“I’m the one who should have known better,” said Tamara, gripping her cup so hard her knuckles turned white. “You two hardly know anything about magic, about the Magisterium, about elements. But I do. My … older sister …”

“Kimiya?” asked Call, puzzled. His leg was aching. He perched himself on the coffee table, rubbing his knee through his cotton uniform.

“I had another sister,” Tamara said in a whisper.

“What happened to her?” Aaron asked, his voice hushing to match hers.

“Worse,” said Tamara. “She became one of those things I was telling you about — a human elemental. There are these great mages who can swim through the earth like they’re fish or make stone daggers shoot out from walls or bring down lightning strikes or make giant whirlpools. She wanted to be one of the great ones, so she pushed her magic until she got taken over by it.”

Tamara shook her head, and Call wondered what she was seeing as she told them about this. “The worst part is how proud my dad was of her at first, when she was succeeding. He would tell Kimiya and me how we should be more like her. Now he and my mother won’t talk about her at all. They won’t even say her name.”

“What is her name?” Call asked.

Tamara looked surprised. “Ravan.”

Aaron’s hand hovered in the air for a second, like he wanted to pat Tamara on the shoulder but wasn’t sure if he should. “You’re not going to wind up like her,” he said. “You don’t have to worry.”

She shook her head again. “I told myself that I wouldn’t be like my father or my sister. I told myself I would never take any chances. I wanted to prove I could do everything the right way and not cut a single corner — and I would still be the best. But then I did cut corners — and I taught you how to cut them, too. I didn’t prove anything.”

“Don’t say that,” said Aaron. “You proved something tonight.”

Tamara sniffed. “What?”

“That Jasper looks better with pudding in his hair,” Call suggested.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I was going to say … although I sure wish I’d seen it.”

“It was pretty great,” Call said, grinning.

“Tamara, you proved that you care about your friends. And we care about you. And we’ll make sure you don’t cut any more corners.” He looked over at Call. “Won’t we?”

“Yeah,” said Call, studying the toe of his boot, not sure he was the best person for this assignment. “And, Tamara …?”

She scrubbed the corner of her eye with her sleeve. “What?”

He didn’t look up and he could feel the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck and make his ears pink. “No one’s ever stuck up for me like you guys did tonight.”

“Did you actually say something nice to us?” Tamara asked him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t know,” Call said. “I might need to lie down.”

But Call didn’t lie down. He stayed up talking with his friends for a good part of the night.