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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "French for Beginners"  by Masktrix As much as you yearn to spend time with Mark, it’s just unfeasible. Any absence is going to be noted by the prefects, and the sheer logistics of changing into Mathilde, then into Stephanie, then back to Mathilde, is just too daunting. You sigh, and type your answer back to Mark. School nuts ths wk. Patience. Good things cm 2 those who wait. ;) *** Life at St. X feels more empty and pointless than ever. The book has opened your eyes to an entire new world, and it’s frustrating that you’re still stuck straddling your old one. The next page of the book, you decipher, requires a metal band, and you spend your evenings – supposedly in study – whittling away a set of intricate runes that seem to have almost been made up at random. You’re not really sure what you’re supposed to do with it, but you’re too invested in the book now to give up. You’re almost finished by Tuesday morning, when you get into your uniform and slip down to the breakfast hall, sitting down quietly at the end of the table occupied by Mary and Corinne. Mary’s still making pointed remarks about “your life choices” on Friday, but you just let it wash over you. The conversation a few tables down is far more interesting. “So how’s it going with Lake Girl?” Jacob asks Mark, judging him with a keen eye. “Ah, good, y’know,” Mark answers in reply. “Yeah, but how good? Like, on a scale to floppy cock to rock-hard boner? She sent you any dirty pictures? You want to share ‘em?” Gross. You can see Emily Dustal, sitting opposite him, also takes a poor view of Jacob’s idea of romance too. “If she had, it’s not like I’d be sharing them with you,” Mark says. There’s a pause and a smile. “Well, not until she sends me something really dirty.” You look down at your plate and clench your jaw. It feels like your ears are burning. “Knock it off,” Emily tells them both. “I’m being serious.” “So was I!” Jacob says, followed by a brief *ouch* which you assume is a kick under the table for his trouble. “Honestly it’s pretty chill right now,” Mark says, answering Emily’s question with sincerity. “We’re just talking at the moment, but I like her. I checked the school sports schedules, there’s some kind of exhibition game she’s gearing up for on Saturday. She said she played pretty much all sports, so I was thinking of heading into town and surprising her.” Crap! If Mark does follow through with his plan, he’s going to end up with a very confused Stephanie Wyatt. “Well,” Emily says, “just so long as you remember she’s only a townie. Don’t get too attached. And if she breaks your heart, then I’m going to find her and kick her ass.” *** Tuesday’s classes drag, and you pay so little attention during softball that you almost get smacked on the head by a ball whizzing in your direction. You’ve got to work out a way to get into town and be Stephanie – and you’ve only got a few days to do it. Worse, Saturdays are when the prefects are most likely to be watching for you to try and slip out and back. You’ve got to get the ban overturned somehow. Unable to come up with a plan, you focus on the strip of metal, etching out the last of the marks and blowing the soft curl of metal away from the engraving. You hold it up to the light, turning it over in your hands and wondering what the hell it does. It’s made, however, so you slip your hand over the book’s page to see if it turns – and it does! There's just a single phrase on the other side. Your stomach cramps with excitement as you open up your laptop and begin to translate the crazy words. And it doesn’t take long to realize what the band must do: to know the mind of another. Given the rest of the book is about stealing someone’s identity, you assume it’s so you can act like your victim a little better, such as pulling off Mathilde’s accent. Maybe even speaking French! In a second you’re on your feet, hiding the book away and making your way down the corridor… But then a thought hits you. Is Mathilde’s mind really the one that’s going to help you with Mark? And what if it doesn’t work like that at all? You need another guinea pig. And there’s one brain you’ve been curious about for a very long time. You rap on the door of G9. “Enter,” a voice commands. You step inside. Samantha Tait is furiously texting on her phone, but you’re not here to see her. Your target is on her bed, sat upright as if she were a queen greeting a supplicant. “JM,” Mary says impassively. “What brings you here?” “I was wondering if we could talk,” you say. “About Friday.” Mary’s nose twitches. “Very well,” she states, before giving a short cough to clear her throat. It’s enough for Sam to get the message and exit the room, brushing past you without a word. “What about last Friday.” “I’m sorry I spoiled your fun,” you say, closing the door. “I… just thought we’d have a better chance of getting a few bottles if we took them at a house party. Those three could never have pulled off getting anything from a liquor store.” “It would have been fun to know they tried,” Mary says, without smiling. “Besides, I’m not going to drink whatever cat’s piss the townies drink at their little barn-raisings.” “I already said I’m sorry. And to make it up to you, I made you this. It’s a friendship band.” You show the metal strip to Mary. She casts her eyes down, then up at you. “Why the hell would I want that?” Mary asks dismissively. But it’s given you the opportunity you need: in less than a second, you push your hand up and thrust it against Mary’s forehead. It vanishes as if melted into the ether, and you take a deep breath, walking over to sit on the bed by her unconscious form. As soon as the band reappears, you grab it and make your exit, rushing to your room to try it, confident that Mary will make up her own story about what happened. *** An hour later you’re knocking on another door. It opens and you find yourself staring at the devil herself: the angelic face of Abigail Steiner. The door opens and you find yourself staring at the devil herself: the angelic face of Abigail Steiner. Her hair flows down her shoulders, and her deadly stare at you with a smile of near-drunkenness. Which is exactly the snippet you stole from Mary’s mind: she’s high. Abigail Steiner is a pill junkie. It’s a little fact Mary uncovered at the end of last year – which is how she got the best room and immunity from Abi, Vee and Kristen’s gaggle… and why you got stuck with Tammy-Lynn in retribution. “JM,” she practically purrs as she rolls her neck from side to side. “What can I help you with, hmm?” “I want you to get Marius to reduce my exeat ban. Get it lifted by Friday.” Abi’s smile widens maliciously, even as her fingers stroke the varnished wood of the door frame. “And why would I do that? A vape pen. Tsk tsk.” She wags her finger. “Very naughty, Jocelyn.” “Because I know about your little problem. And I’ll make sure others do, too.” Abi’s jaw muscles tighten almost imperceptibly. “What problem is that?” she asks, her voice’s dreaminess slipping closer to a nightmare of wrath. You smile. “Being stuck here’s such a bitter pill, y’know?” Abi’s smile drains. She blinks, a little too rapidly. “I’d hate for word to get around the school that our prefect is a speed freak.” Without a word, Abi grabs your clothes and pulls you into her room, pressing you against the wall. Despite her small frame, she’s much stronger than you are, and you can see the drug haze in her eyes. Fear takes hold as you wonder if she’s going to kill you. Given what Mary knows, she’s probably crazy enough. Abi leans in so close you can smell her breath. “You really want me to make your life a fucking hell?” she snarls, the beast inside her barely restrained. “Because I can and I will.” “I want you to get me out of this shithole,” you say, staring her in the eye and trying not to let her see how terrified you are of what might happen. “Get the ban from leaving school dropped and I’ll forget everything I know.” “Fuck that,” Abi says, tightening her grip on your arm. “You think I’m stupid, you little west coast bitch? I’m the one in charge here, you don’t come and fucking extort me! Who told you? Mary? Hmm? Had to be. Well she’s fucking over in this school. Done.” “I don’t care,” you say, keeping your breath steady. “I don’t care about your little secret either. I just want to go into town once in a while.” Her grip digs deep into your flesh. “That’s it? You’re trying to fucking blackmail me over a few trips to Saratoga fucking Falls?” She snorts with contempt, then suddenly lets go, flicking her hair back and taking a breath. A hand rises up, and she flicks you hard on the forehead, laughing as you flinch. “Jesus, you’re pathetic.” You breath slow, trying not to show weakness but, of course, showing little else. “Do we have a deal?” you mutter, unable to look in her in the eye. “Why, of course, JM,” Abi chirps, the sinister notes of her voice faded away. “Sure, I’ll talk to Marius for you.” You look up, and see she’s smiling once again. “But that’s it. There’ll be no more favors. And if you ever breathe so much as a word to anyone, you’ll get it even worse than what’s coming for Mary.” Her smile stretches ever sweeter. “And believe me, you don’t want to find out what I’m capable of.” Next: "Errands of an Errant Magician" |
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