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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Breaking Serve"  by Masktrix Rumors pale with the chaos slapping the mask on Kelsey would cause, and your mind races to an even neater solution. “OK, fine, I didn’t buy the book at Arnholm’s. I was given it by one of the cheer squad when they told me about the school ritual.” “School ritual?” “She told me to keep it quiet. You have to draw the sigil from the book on the ground then spin around three times wearing a mask and saying the magic words. It’s the only way you get selected for the cheer squad.” Kelsey holds a hand up to stop your patented Shelly Nolan babbling. You’re hoping that it’s panicked enough that she forgets the exact events on Monday and doesn’t begin wondering why the mask was in Acuna’s bag. “Who told you about this ‘tradition’?” “I told you, one of the cheerleaders. I’m not saying who, I’m not a snitch.” “Chelsea,” Kelsey surmises. “And let me guess: you had to film yourself to prove you did it right? Just like the idiot who made the ‘friendship banner’.” Horror. You are a freshman dupe. “How does she convince people to fall for such utter…” Kelsey’s voice drifts off as the book is thrust back into your hand. “Go home. There’s no such thing as magic. There’s no such thing as a school ritual. She was messing with you. Which, I hate to break it to you, also means you never stood a chance of being a cheerleader. Give it up. Try and find something you’re good at.” She gives a parting look at the book. “Preferably something that’s actually real. Oh, and delete the video. Chelsea would have posted it to YouTube and made you the laughing stock of the school.” You let your lip tremble, the tears well, as the audience ends with your apparent dreams shattered. The deepest smirk Shelly’s face allows only breaks loose once Kelsey has vanished into the locker room. The rest of the evening proceeds smoothly enough. You head to the Masonic cemetery and ditch your mask, the other Will providing spare clothes. Then, with double Will-power, you begin your excavations. Shelly, being more organized than you, has also taken your mom’s scales along, so you weigh out the earth in refuse sacks, taking an extra 50 pounds to account for errors, then drive back to the garage, taking care to dim your headlights and roll down to avoid alerting Shelly’s parents. The earth makes an impressive mound on the floor which, once your hair has been added, burns with an unnatural purple flame. You have no idea how long this is going to take, and just hope Shelly’s mom doesn’t try another snooping session before it’s finished. You’re both covered in dirt by the time you finish. “We should swap back,” other-Will says, surprising you. You look at him. “What happened to my life being so awesome?” “Uh, it’s kind of embarrassing. You promise you won’t tell anyone?” “Like who? Who the hell am I going to tell that I swapped lives with someone as part of a coven using magical masks?” The other Will looks down at the ground and sighs. “I… miss my parents. I didn’t think I would, but I do. Yours are fine and all, but they’re not mine. I know it’s only been two days, and it’s shorter than when I went to Summer Camp, but I just… miss them.” You smile at your double and rest a hand on his shoulder. “OK, Shelly,” you say softly. “There’s just one thing you should know about the past two days. Something terrible happened. You got a B minus in Latin.” *** Morning breaks and you’re relieved to be back in your own bed, which you find now sport fresh, ironed sheets that smell faintly of fabric softener. You check your messages, and see that the false Will Prescott has, indeed, been living your best life. Your chat is full of hyped comments about how awesome that stupid werewolf movie was, not only with Caleb and Keith, but also Cassie Harper, who you apparently encountered and invited along. She hasn’t stopped messaging you since. Things only get stranger when you head downstairs and learn that apparently you made the whole family linguini for dinner yesterday. And, at school, you discover you spontaneously bought sticky tabs and organized your workbooks in a full rainbow of color-coded itemization. Otherwise there seems to be no harm done. You wonder what happens if you’d put on the Will Prescott mask; would you have gained Shelly’s memories of the past two days? It would have saved having this apparent memory blackout. Shelly, for her part, seemed fine with your quick summary of how you lived her life, filling her in on Helen Kim’s moans and basketball failures. She was upset about her grade, but perked up at the idea of having Kim Walsh as a mentor. There was something else you’re sure you should have said, but couldn’t remember. The day passes quickly. Painlessly. Blandly. Everything feels so uninteresting and mundane. Lunch outside of school is fine. Your classes are fine. Your life is fine. But nothing more than that. Your head dances with the thought of magic and lives you could step into and out of. And in your wallet, you keep Pete’s business card, unsure why you don’t throw it away. Thursday becomes Friday. The purple flame dies and has to be relit and again. Friday becomes Saturday. Then, on Sunday morning, you wake to find your phone buzzing. COVEN EMERGENCY. GET TO MY HOUSE ASAP. You rush over to the edge of Acheson. There’s a squad car at the end of the dirt road, near the edge of the woods. “Will!” Shelly rushes over to you, tears streaming from her eyes. “What’s going on?” you ask, confused. “Someone broke into the shop last night. My mom’s freaking out, and I’m freaking out, and I don’t know if the masks are there or whether they saw the golem or where the book is or what the freak is happening and…” “Whoa,” you say. “Relax, I’ve got the Libra. Have you been inside?” “No, my mom won’t let me! It’s a freakin’ crime scene in there.” You’re still trying to get what happened from Shelly when Mrs Nolan comes by. “Do you know anything about this, Will?” she asks. Quick. Direct. To the point. “No, m’am,” you say, shaking your head, your genuine concern shining through. “Was anything taken?” Mrs Nolan shakes her head. “Nothing important. A few silicone masks I’d been working on. They didn’t take any of my tools, as far as I can tell. It’s odd, it looks like they were searching for something. Are you sure you don’t know anything that can help?” “No,” you say. “I didn’t tell anyone about your shop. I can’t think of anyone who would have done this.” You stretch your mind over the facts, trying to think of possible culprits. Of the people who knew about your project with Shelly, the only one you can think of is… oh shit. You were supposed to get Ian Cowdray out of detention. He must have decided to tell his asshole of a cousin about you. Mrs Nolan goes back to the edge of the porch, cup of coffee in her hands, hugging herself inside her sweater as she watches the police dust for prints on the forced door. “Ian,” you say to Shelly. She looks uncertain, refusing to answer. “Who else could it have been?” “We don’t know for sure,” Shelly says, eyes at the ground. You concede the point, but you can’t think of who else it could have been. You find yourself joining Mrs Nolan on the porch, watching in silence for a time. “Your project looks really good,” she finally says. “I don’t know how you gave it that finish. I’m going to have to start taking lessons from you.” There’s a small laugh. “I thought you were just making a mask. I didn’t realize you were making a full body sculpt. Is it going to be part of a display?” You and Shelly look at each other. The golem must be ready. *** The police investigation departs an hour later, and the three of you head down to the shop. Sure enough, inside the golem’s fire has stopped burning, scorching away everything until what remains looks like a rock monster. It dominates the workspace, but is no more attention-grabbing than the half-haired clown mask on the tailor’s dummy – just another prop in a store space. You make a quick mental inventory of what’s gone. Mrs Nolan seems to think several different masks of hers are absent, while you quickly note that one blank mask is gone, as are the Will and Shelly masks. The Acuna mask is still in place, hidden on the wall, as is the Ruth mask. You nod to Shelly, who quietly gathers them up from behind her mom’s back. You wait until Mrs Nolan heads back to the house before you both start to panic. “What the hell are we going to do?” Shelly says, freaking out. “Oh my god, they’ve taken the masks of you and me! They could make themselves into our evil doubles! We’ve got evil twins, Will!” Evil twins that, once they don the masks, will know about the book and every detail of your lives. You look at Shelly. You need to track down whoever broke in quickly. They might not have used the masks yet and, given they stole some of Mrs Nolan’s and left the golem, it’s possible they don’t know what they’re doing yet. Ian Cowdray’s farm seems to be the place to start. But you still have the advantage. The book is in your possession, and without the sigils they can’t make any more masks. You also have a golem, if you can get it to work. And, with the golem complete, the next page of the Libra will have unlocked. Maybe you should take time to study before you strike. Next: "The Paranoid World of Prescott and Nolan" |
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