A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Abdicating Responsibility" Barbara's call comes during second period, when you're going over Algebra II with Allison Kerr, a shy senior with glasses. You leave her to struggle with one of the homework problems while you excuse yourself. Oliver Kelly—the name of the first student on Barbara's list—is waiting in the conference room when you arrive. He looks like a sophomore—or a very young-looking junior—with light brown hair shaved almost down to his scalp. He grins up at you nervously as you enter, showing braces. But you only give him a quick glance before pushing the office door shut with your heel. He draws back a little as you march up to him with the metal band in the palm of your hand, but he can only flinch as you bend over him to slap it onto his forehead. He flops out of the chair and slides to the floor. You glance over your shoulder to make sure the door is closed—there is no window you can be spied on through—then quick-step over to lock it. You don't start to tremble lightly until you have hefted the boy back into his chair and laid his arms and head on the table. Two, four, eight, twelve minutes pass with no change in Oliver Kelly's condition; you pass the time by scrolling anxiously with unseeing eyes through your cell phone. At last the metal band reappears on his forehead and falls off onto the table top. You swoop it up and exit the conference room. Barbara is on the phone as you pass her station, but you only return her worried/distracted look with a quick nod before hurrying back to your office. Allison is still sullenly going over her work when you settle back at your desk, dropping your purse (containing the metal strip) onto the floor by your feet. You get through the rest of the day without incident, and have even mostly forgotten about the experiment by the time the final bell rings. * * * * * Your husband told you at breakfast that he has a faculty meeting late this afternoon, so the house is empty when you get home. You change out of your school-business attire into loose slacks, a sweatshirt, and socks, and have emptied your satchel onto the desk in your study, before you take the new experiment out to examine it. OLIVER MICHAEL KELLY it says in glowing letters when you examine it, and you are ready to conclude that you've just made another memory-copying strip before you catch yourself with a sharp breath. Though the strip is the same size and heft as the ones you've already made, and the glowing letters seem to float above the surface of the strip in the same way, there is a difference. These letters glow with a ruby-red light, not the sky-blue of the other strips. It's a different spell, you think as your skin prickles all over. It made something new. But what? You take the strip into Stephan's study, where the grimoire is, and turn to the page with the wall of text. It is still a wall of text, and seems unchanged. You lay the strip onto the page, then pick it up again. The page flutters beneath, and you turn it. You give the next spell only a cursory glance—enough to confirm that there's nothing easily readable—before looking at the back of the previous page. Alas, it is blank. It was only an accident that allowed you to make a new item, and apparently the book isn't going to reward mere luck with any explanations. You take the strip back into the living room, and squat cross-legged on the sofa to study it. There is only one way to figure out what the thing does. You're going to have to put it on someone. But you can't put it onto a stranger. Either you or Caleb are going to have to put it onto yourselves, and together study the change. You suck in your lip. It will be an hour at least before Caleb gets home. That is surely time enough for you experiment with it on your own. But do you dare experiment with it without your partner there to watch in case something goes horribly wrong? Next: "Soul Survivor" |