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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Piercing the Veil"  "At least we know how it works," Will Prescott says as he starts to head home. "Yeah, but fixing it's gonna be a bitch," you reply. It's Wednesday, and you worked on the hex for most of the past two days with your twin. "It's not an illusion spell," he'd said earlier, looking up from the design that Blackwell had put on the money bills. "It's a 'pierce illusion' spell. That aura on you is what's scaring people. The hexed money just allows people to see it." "Like it's a really ugly pimple," you'd sourly replied. He'd snickered. "What have you found?" "That's it's definitely modified my imago," you'd said while peering into one of Blackwell's books. "Like someone scribbled on the label of a soup can." "And I got the same scribbled up label." He frowns thoughtfully. "Got your soup inside my can, too. That's what essentia is like. The label just lets you see what kind of soup it is without opening it up." "Unless masks are involved. That's like switching labels around, like Robert did last April Fools Day." You'd opened up a can of chili, and gotten lentil soup. "So if it's marked up imago, we should be able to undo it, right?" "In principle," you'd agreed. "You could make someone's face look like it's melting off, or make a third eye pop out of their cheek. But the subtle stuff, like this hex, that'd take skill. I gotta feeling we're going to have put your imago--" "Yours," he'd corrected. "--under a kind of x-ray, to see exactly what's going on inside it." You'd done some more work, but gotten nowhere before he had to leave. * * * * * Afterward, you seal yourself up for the night in Blackwell's bedroom, and carve some runes into a new mind band while thinking. As a "phenomenon," imago appears as faces and bodies; but in its noumenal form--its "really real" form--it is only a substance of the intellect, like numbers. You can see and touch "two pencils", but the actual number "two" is something that can only be thought about. It's the same way with imago: to study yours directly, you will have to get a copy of your body inside a mind band, so you can study it intellectually. At least you know how to do that. You call Yumi, who is polishing up a new mask for you. To your surprise, she tells you it's done. "Mokichi spotted me working on it," she says. "He suggested using a car polisher on it. So I did." You cuss to yourself: Why didn't it occur to you to use something like that instead of wasting days with a rag? "Bring it over tomorrow morning before school," you tell her. * * * * * Thursday morning. You start by putting the fresh mask to your face: That gives you a new copy of your bodily imago. Onto it you set a new mind band. It hisses and glows, for it is trying to open up a mind to copy. But there's no mind inside that mask, only your face and body. Over the mask you hold a "recapitulate" sigil with a second blank mind band in its center. You murmur the words that activate the sigil, and hold tight. The hiss grows louder, and there's a snap of thunder. You jump, and the paper rattles, but you don't let go. Something very white and hot glows beneath the paper, and you choke: Is it going to set the paper on fire? The mask beneath makes some hard snapping noises, and the glow fades. A burning odor fills your nostrils. You set the paper aside and look at the mask: It still holds a ghostly image of your own face, but that doesn't matter. You examine the second mind band, the one you've just copied your bodily imago into. The world reels, and you shut your eyes. Whatever is written on it is not meant to be seen by human eyes. You take a deep breath, and put it to your forehead. * * * * * "What was it like?" Will asks later that afternoon. You're describing what it was like to look at bodily imago inside your head instead of on a golem. "Kind of like static," you say. "A lot of churn. Sigils, lots of lots of tiny sigils, containing each other and connected to each other in a godawful way. It was hard to concentrate on, actually. Easier to ignore it, like a lot of white noise. It's basically like line code they use to make CG figures in the movies. Sigils instead of ones and zeros, and even more complicated." "Could you find where the hex was attached?" he asks. You just give him a look. "So what are we going to do?" "Figure out a way to simplify and interpret all that code, I guess. It gave me a headache, though, so I went back to the Libra and made this with the next spell." You toss a metal strip to him. "That's anima." "It's just a mind band," he frowns. "Except--" "Yeah, the name's in red instead of blue. I figure that's so you don't get them mixed up. Anyway, anima. It's like a serial number, like with those soup cans we were talking about earlier. If the cans are all full of the same kind of soup, that's like being filled with the same essentia. But you can stamp each one with a different number to make them unique, even if they've got the same label. That's what anima is. You and me are basically the same person because you've got my essentia inside that golem shell, and that's how come you have to do what I tell you to do. But if you had your own anima, you'd be independent." "So, if I put this on--" "We'd have to bind it to the mask first." "But then I'd stop being a puppet?" His tone is merely curious, and there's no hint that he resents being so much under your control. And he doesn't look disappointed when you shake your head. "No, because that's my anima. If you put it on, then we'd really be identical, because we'd share anima as well. We'd have to make you your own unique anima, and I haven't seen a way of doing that." "So what good is this thing?" "Well, one weird thing is that it contains mental imago in addition to the anima. In fact, the way I understand it, memories and stuff is part of anima. The stuff we've been getting out with mind bands is just a kind of shadow that anima casts into imago. The real memories are inside that." You point to the band. "And more than that. The book I got all this out of--" You tap its cover. "It refers to anima as 'sedes'. It's kind of like the soul. It contains your point-of-view, your sense of self." He looks puzzled. "If I put this on someone, then they wouldn't just get my memories. They'd get my 'sense of self'. They'd feel like they were me. As near as I can figure, they'd think they were me, like they'd been body-swapped." "How is that different from--?" "It's the way they'd act. When I put on Melody's mind-band, I still think I'm myself. I just have Melody's memories in there with me. But if I put on Melody's anima-band, I'd have her memories, but I'd think 'Oh my God, I'm Melody Weiss, and I've been swapped into Will Prescott's body!'" "But wouldn't you know what was going on?" "Intellectually. But I think it wouldn't matter. I would feel it so strongly that I'd still act like Melody would at being tricked into a body swap." He scratches his chin. "So you don't want to put someone else's anima onto yourself. But if you put your anima onto someone--" He looks up at you with bright eyes: "You'd get someone like me, but still in their original body, and without having to mess around with a golem?" "Sort of. Unlike you, they'd be independent of me, because we wouldn't have the same essentia. They might get ideas of their own." After that, it's back to researching the hex, but you take a short break first to call Melody with her next assignment. "I was thinking of calling you," she says. "Can I come out and talk?" * * * * * "Why didn't you tell me about this poltergeist stuff?" you ask after she's arrived at the villa and given you the whole story about books moving themselves when she's studying at the school library. "I figured it was normal. I mean, look at this place." She looks around with obvious distaste. You and your twin exchange a glance. "Nothing weird's been going on around me," he says. "Maybe it's Blackwell trying to come back from the beyond?" "Maybe. This guy. Joe," you say to Melody, for she has mentioned it to him. "Does he seem serious when he says it's bad for your health to work here?" "It's hard to tell when he's being serious." "How did you meet him?" "I was walking back to my dorm Monday night. I heard someone behind me and starting sprinting. I ran headlong into him. He walked me home." She looks abashed. "I gave him my number, and since then--" "Guy moves fast," Will grins. "It's not like that!" He looks her up and down critically. "I'm sure it isn't," he snickers. "Listen, you little asshole--!" "When did this poltergeist stuff start?" you interrupt. "I first really noticed the day before yesterday. One of the books I had out just slid onto the floor. But there were a couple of things that happened over the weekend that felt a little weird, now that I think of them." "Blackwell?" Will says again. "He got eaten up on Saturday night." "Pretty fuckin' weird however you slice it," you agree. "Poltergeists, and Melody here getting a boyfriend." You ignore her glower. "I wanna be careful. This stuff isn't anything to fuck around with." "So what's the plan, boss?" That's all for now. |
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