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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Caged Mutant"  You decide to edge your way into the topic rather than tackle it head-on. "You said you're a local. How does a local get into Xavier's?" you ask. Roxanne cocks an eyebrow. "Why, are you interested in switching schools?" You shrug, and she sighs. "Well," she says, "you have to get in through the cathedral. You know, Saint Francis Xavier's. There's a big mass of us 'mutants' from around here, and that's how we got in. It really is a local school. It's just that they've done a spectacular job marketing themselves to the rich folks." "So you're a Catholic?" you ask. Roxanne gives you a look. "Supposedly?" "You just have to get in through the cathedral. There's scholarships and stuff." "Aren't there any local 'rich folks' who send their kids to Xavier's?" Roxanne rolls her eyes. "I don't think so. Unless owning the Dairy Queen makes you royalty or something." "Who owns the Dairy Queen?" "Ophelia Wilmot's dad." She leans across the table with a suspicious expression. "Why all the questions?" "Just trying to get a feel for—" But you see it in her eye. She's not going to go for the "casual act" much longer. So you fold your hands and start to share confidences. "I have a friend who goes to the college," you tell her in a low voice, "and he says that Saturday night there was a student from St. Xavier's out at a party at one of the college houses." Roxanne's eyebrows go up, but she doesn't otherwise react. "And, uh, he spent the night there. With a girl. You know. And, uh, for reasons, we'd like to know who it was she spent the night with." Roxanne falls back in her seat. Her mouth twists up like she's biting into something bitter. "So all this, meeting with me," she says, "you were just looking to pump me for information about—" "No! I mean— Okay, yeah, I thought of you when my friend told me about this, uh, Xavier's guy who was with this girl, and who, uh—" "Where's your friend? Can I talk to him? I think I'd rather talk to him than you!" "Why are you so pissy about it?" you demand, for you feel stung. "But I wanted to talk to you too. Yeah!" you add when Roxanne blinks. "Didn't I come up and talk to you at the minigolf place? And I didn't know then you were a— That you went to Xavier's! So when my friend is asking about— And I see a chance to—" "Okay, okay!" Roxanne sighs. "I'll talk to you to help your friend out! Jeez." She rolls her eyes. That's when you decide that maybe she really does like you. And that maybe you should share the truth with her. * * * * * She thinks your friend is full of shit, though. Boarders at St. Xavier's don't get to spend the night in town. "Only a prefect could get away with trying that," she says. But then she catches herself. She doesn't answer right away when you ask her what a "prefect" is. So you ask, "Do you think it could be one of them?" "There's one of them it could be," she says. "Well, three of them. Realistically, I think there's only one who'd—" She trails off. Then she shakes herself. "Or," she finishes, "it could be anyone, as long as they made a deal with the right prefect." She fixes you with a stare. "If you really want to track this guy down, I'd need a description." "Let's go out and talk to Dylan and Caleb," you tell her as you take out your cell phone. "I hope you don't freak out too easily. Dylan's gay—" "Gays don't freak me out." "That's not the freaky part. It's how he got your prefect to sleep with him that's freaky." That gets her to raise her eyebrows, but she says nothing as you tap in a text to Caleb, then motion her to follow you out. She looks very wary as she gets to her feet. * * * * * "Shit!" Roxanne yells. "Shit shit shit shit shit! Shit!" She grabs her hair—what she can of it—and pulls while gaping raggedly at the girl in front of her. It's Eva. Just a few seconds ago, it was Dylan. But before that it was Eva, and before that it had been Caleb. And before that it had been Eva, and before that—originally—it had been Dylan. That's because the mask had to go on and off a couple of people a couple of times before it sank in to Roxanne that it wasn't a parlor trick or a hallucination, that it really was what it looked like. And even after that it took a good quarter-hour and another change of costume before the whole fucking reality of the thing hit her. You and your friends have a magic mask that you can use to turn yourself into a cheerleader. And you had a book that shows how to make such things. "Shit!" she yells again. You need her help, so neither you nor Caleb try to stifle her. You just exchange awkward, embarrassed looks. Well, embarrassed on your part. Caleb looks a little peeved. Roxanne sinks onto Dylan's futon and stares in a haggard way at the sleeping girl who looks like Eva Garner. She covers her mouth with one hand and draws in several deep, slow breaths. She closes her eyes and groans. "Are you okay now?" you ask her. "Nn-nhn," she grunts. "Why are you showing me this?" she whines. You and Caleb exchange another glance. "'Cos this isn't the only magical stuff we made," you tell Roxanne. She raises her head and gives you a sharp, pale look. "We also made a thing, called a golem," you tell her. "It's, um, it's like a magical robot. It doesn't look like anything, just like a, uh—" "Like a half-melted statue," Caleb says. "But you can put a mask on it, and it turns into a person. A fake person. A copy of a person. Like the way, uh, Dylan here turns into—" You feel shy about describing out loud what Roxanne has been witnessing, even though the transformed Dylan is sprawled unconsciously nearby. "But there isn't even a real person underneath." "Why would you want to do that?" Roxanne asks, in a tone of horror. "Well, you could hang out with it. Like, suppose you like the person it's pretending to be and you want to hang out with them but the real person won't hang out with you. Also—" You swallow. "It's supposed to obey you—" "Supposed to," Caleb emphasizes. "—so it could be a kind of servant. Doing what you tell it to do." "And you'd want to do that because?" Roxanne's voice rises to a half-shriek. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Caleb edging toward the front door. To block it, you suppose, if Roxanne tries to bolt. "Well, we made it for Dylan," you tell her. "Made it and sold it to him. And we also sold him a blank mask. He, uh, wanted to copy a guy, 'cos he wanted a, uh—" "A roommate," Caleb interrupts. "That's what he told us, Will. He wanted a roommate." "Right." You nod at Roxanne. "A roommate. The golem wearing the mask could be—" "Oh, Jesus!" Roxanne leaps to her feet, but instead of trying to escape she just paces the room. "So why are you telling me this?" You take a deep breath. "Because it ran away. It was supposed to obey Dylan—" "Supposed to," Caleb emphasizes again. "—but it was ... defective? Or something? Anyway, it knocked Dylan out, tied him up, stole his clothes and all his money, and ran away. And the thing, uh, it looks like your prefect. Or whoever it was from Xaviers. And ... well—" You suck in another deep breath. "What if it goes back to your school and runs into the real guy?" "When did this happen?" Roxanne whispers. Her eyes are as big as ping-pong balls. "Earlier. Sometime this afternoon." Actually, Dylan said it was late in the morning, but that would make the situation sound even more dire. "So, the long and short of it is, there's two of this guy running around, maybe out at your school." Roxanne staggers back a step. "And you're just now—? What have you been doing about it?" You give her a steady look. "We've been trying to get to know someone at Xavier's," you tell her. "So we can figure out who the person is and how to get into the school so we can—" Roxanne falls onto the futon again, in something like a half-faint. She nurses her temple. "So what am I supposed to do?" she groans. Next: "A Meeting of Minds" |
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