The Copper Gauntlet by Holly Black, Cassandra Clare

talking to him as she dragged him away from the conversation and toward the house.
    Call abandoned his half-finished food on a stone banister and hurried after them. Tamara gave him a brilliant, crazy grin as they pulled Aaron inside, Havoc trotting behind.
    “Where are we going?” Aaron said.
    “Come on.” Tamara led them through the house until they reached a library lined with richly bound books. Mullioned windows set with colored glass let in sparkling beams of light, and deep-red rugs covered the floor. Tamara crossed the room toward a massive fireplace. A stone urn stood at each side, carved out of multicolored agate. Each one had a word inscribed on it.
    Tamara took hold of the first one and twisted it around so that the word faced them. Prima . She moved to the second urn and twisted it until the second word faced them as well. Materia .
    Prima materia , Call knew, was an alchemical term. It meant the very first substance of the world, the substance that everything that wasn’t chaos — earth, air, fire, water, metal, and souls — came from.
    A sharp click sounded, and a section of the wall swung open onto a well-lit stone hallway.
    “Whoa,” Call said.
    He wasn’t sure where he’d been expecting Tamara to take them — to her room, maybe, or to a quiet corner of the house. He hadn’t expected a secret door.
    “When were you going to tell me about this?” Aaron said, turning to Tamara. “I’ve been living here for a month!”
    Tamara looked delighted at having kept a secret from him. “I’m not supposed to show anyone. You’re lucky to be seeing it now, Makar .”
    Aaron stuck his tongue out at her.
    Tamara laughed and ducked into the hallway, reaching up to pull a torch down from the wall. It glowed a bright gold green and gave off a faint smell of sulfur. She set off down the corridor, pausing when she realized the boys weren’t right on her heels. She snapped her fingers, her curls swinging. “Come on,” she said. “Move it, slowpokes.”
    They looked at each other, shrugged, and headed after her.
    As they walked, Havoc huffing along after them, Call realized why the hallways were so narrow — they ran through the whole house like veins beside bone, so anyone in any of the public rooms could be spied upon. And at regular intervals there were small hatches that opened into what looked like air ducts, covered by ornate ironwork registers.
    Call opened one and peered down into the kitchen, where the staff were making up fresh pitchers of rosewater lemonade and placing tiny squares of tuna onto individual leaves that rested on large glass platters. He opened another and saw Alex and Tamara’s sister cuddling on a sofette beside two brass statues of greyhounds. As he watched, Alex leaned in and kissed Kimiya.
    “What are you doing?” Tamara called back, under her breath.
    “Nothing!” Call slid the hatch closed. He went a little farther without succumbing to temptation but paused when he heard Tamara’s parents. As he paused, he heard Mrs. Rajavi say something about the guests at the party. Call knew he should follow Tamara, but he itched to eavesdrop.
    Aaron stopped and turned to look at Call. Call made a beckoning gesture and Aaron and Tamara joined him at the hatch. Aaron slid it open quietly with nimble fingers and they all peered down.
    “We probably shouldn’t …,” Tamara began, but curiosity seemed to overcome her objections partway through her sentence. Call wondered how often she did this by herself and what secrets she’d learned that way.
    Tamara’s mother and father were standing in their study, a mahogany table between them. On it was a chess set, though Call didn’t see the usual knights, rooks, and pawns; instead there were shapes he didn’t recognize.
    “— Anastasia, of course,” Mr. Rajavi finished. They’d come in in the middle of his sentence.
    Mrs. Rajavi nodded. “Of course.” She picked up an empty glass sitting on a silver tray, and, as they watched, it