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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Minion Mine"  "What were you trying to do with Gordon?" you whisper to Chelsea through the bookshelf. She glances around to ensure that there's no one loitering in her aisle. You also glance around. Someone's in the row behind you—between the books, you can just make out a dark blob, like a head—but you don't think they can hear you. Still, you push up close against the shelf as Chelsea's voice falls to just the softest whisper. "I wanted him to wait for me in the loft this period," she says. "So we could talk. About this stuff. So I could tell him what we're doing." "Okay, don't do that," you whisper back. "Leave him alone, don't tell him anything. You say he's acting normal?" Chelsea's golden scalp—it's all you can really make out of her through the gap between the shelves—bobs up and down. "Then treat him normal. Like he's normal, he's not—" Your voice drops almost to nothing. "Not a doppelganger. I'll try to look at him later, figure out what's wrong, fix him." Chelsea nods again. "I'll DM you if I need to talk to you again. I was just in such a panic, boss! I—" "It's okay, Chelsea." "Did you think about those names I sent you? Because if you turned one of them into—" "What are you doing this period?" "I'm supposed to be in my Interior Design class." "Okay, go hang out in the loft, write me a big-ass DM or something talking about all those names you gave me. Who are they, why should we—? I mean, I don't even know most of them!" "Okay, boss. Where will you be?" "In here." There's no way you can sneak into your second-period class. Mr. Hawks is just as much of a hard-ass as Walberg is, and he's about ten times as sarcastic. You part, and make a point of exiting through the row behind, so you can see who it was that might have been spying on you. It's just a girl—you don't even recognize her—and she only looks up at you blankly as you squeeze past. Out of the corner of your eye you watch Chelsea as she sashays through the library. * * * * * You get to endure Carson Ioeger's company for the balance of second period, for it's his study hall, and he gestures you over to his table so he can repeat his threat about not asking Caleb for the money he owes you. It pisses you off, so when lunchtime comes you ditch both Caleb and Keith, and Carson and his friends, to grab a fast bite from the cafeteria—you ran out of the house without a lunch—then squat behind G wing to study the DMs that Chelsea sent you. She is nothing if not complete in giving you a rundown of all the names. But what it more or less comes down to, after you've read and reread and re-reread the DMs and reorganized the names, is that she has picked out five basic groups to infiltrate. The first is the circle that she herself moves in, and these would be the people she suggested you should replace so that you can communicate better. You've serious doubts about two of her suggestions: Steve Patterson is an asshole basketball player like Gordon, and it would be as weird to be seen talking to him as to Chelsea. The same—or worse—is true of Cindy Vredenburg, who isn't just a snooty cheerleader but is dating Seth Javits, another asshole basketball player who would pound you into a pancake if he caught you talking to his girlfriend. At least Lin Pol, though a cheerleader, sometimes talks to you because she's friends with Jenny Ashton, who you know through Carson and James. And Deanna Showalter? She's a name you conjured with earlier. You don't know her personally, but you doubt it would look weird to anyone if you were seen talkingtogether. But really, the only name of the five that makes sense is Kim Walsh, another candidate you already considered. Then there's the "smart set" that Chelsea has suggested. Kelsey Blankenship and Amanda Ferguson top this list. She's also included Catherine Muskov along with Marc Garner and his sisters Eva and Jessica. Chelsea seemingly wants to make Kelsey a victim because of some grudge that her original harbored, and for much the same reason you privately add Geoff Mansfield (who stole your ex-girlfriend from you) to the list as well. It's a daisy chain of associations that links the next bunch of names together. Jelena Petrovic heads it, and Chelsea recommends her because she plays in a "punk" band and so, Chelsea says, she's got a ton of social cred. But then there's also the girls she's known to hang out with: Sienna Goldman, who plays in a different band, and Fatima Zahedi and Rebecca Sykes and Brianna Gould, who are total groupies, and ... and ... and ... The standout name in this chain of associations, of course, is Andrea Varnsworth. Chelsea also talks about infiltrating some of the sports teams by replacing some of the important and popular players. She gives a couple of examples. Some of them—like Stephanie Wyatt, a hard-ass gym rat who scares the shit out of you—you know. Others—like Reagan Hackett of the volleyball squad—you don't. The list of names here isn't comprehensive, and it includes some guys' names, but you can fill in the rest. Finally, there are a several names you don't know anything about. Chelsea describes them briefly, but not well enough that you get much of a sense of them. But you don't dismiss them out of hand, either. If Chelsea thinks they are worth duplicating and replacing, then they must have something going for them, and it occurs to you that it might be best to start with one them. They are distant from you and people you know, and through them you might expose yourself to more possibilities that otherwise would be invisible. * * * * * You're on your way back to library for your seventh-period study hall when a brawny arm closes around your neck. Another hand grabs the back of your belt, and you are hauled off your feet and shoved against the crowd, breaking and pushing it apart like the prow of an ice breaker. Your captor carries you along this way until you reach the wide corridor that runs in front of the library. There you are set down and spun about. Gordon Black, a fell light in his eye, grabs your throat in a meaty paw and shoves you against the wall. Behind him, Steve Patterson, tall and rangy, stares at you with eyes the color of a frigid Arctic mist. "This is the motherfucker," Gordon growls. "Stupid hat." He knocks your cap off. "Shitty haircut. Face that—" He mauls you with an open palm, and you can only just make out the word "gravel" in what he says. "If you see him anywhere close to Chelsea, anywhere near the gym— Fuck! If you see him, period!" "Yeah, I get it," Patterson says. "Fuck!" Gordon glares murder at you. "I gotta get to class." He shoves you sideways, and you almost fall off your feet. He's gone when you straighten up, but Patterson remains. He doesn't touch you, but he steps up close enough that you can smell the laundry detergent in his button-up shirt. "Well, little man," he says in a voice that's softer than Gordon's, but even more terrifying for the inhuman chill of it. "It looks like you pissed off the wrong people." His voice falls to a raspy whisper. "You understand what that means, right?" "Uh ... lp!" "It means you can get fucked up anytime, anywhere. And you're going to be." For a miserably long minute he keeps you pinned there as you try not to shit yourself. Not once does he touch you, not until he says, "Pick up your goddamn hat, you sad little fuck," and when you bend over to retrieve it he kicks your feet out from under you and leaves you sprawling on the floor. * * * * * So it looks like your career as Will Prescott needs to end, and the sooner you move on the better. In the library you pore over the DMs that Chelsea sent you. It almost doesn't matter, you feel, which name you pick, for you're likely to wind up replacing most if not all of the names she suggested with doppelgangers. Still, there's no point in rushing into things, and you weigh the pros and cons of each name and each group. Ease of doing the switch. The ability to talk to Chelsea. The general "attractiveness" of the target. Gradually, though, you retreat from considering individual names and concentrate on the "groups" that you picked out. By the end of the study hall, you've settled on: Next: "The Hands, Eyes, and Ears of Fate" |
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