The Book of Masks (Vol. 1)

The Mash-Up

Previously: "Making People the New-Fashioned Way" 

Umeko's musical performance in church the next day is quite lovely, despite the quasi-melodic shrieking from Mrs. Duncan that she was supposed to be accompanying. Afterward, you lavish her with praise, ending with a semi-desperate invitation that she join your family for lunch.

She twinkles at you. "Is that okay with your folks?" You shrug helplessly. "Let's ask your mother."

Luckily, your mom is delighted to have Umeko over, and lunch is very nice, even if it means your guest will be getting the leftovers that you and Robert would normally divide between you for supper. For his part, Robert tries monopolizing the conversation by reliving the movie he saw with her, but you indulge him.

When the meal is over, Umeko suggests taking a walk, but you tell her you've got something in your room that you'd like to show her. You wince a little as you lead her into your bedroom: you'd forgotten to straighten things up, but she only looks amused. "You need to work a little more on your line if you're going to get a girl up here," she says.

"What do you mean?"

"Usually you offer something like 'etchings' as an excuse."

You blush. "Actually, it is something of an arts and crafts project." You hold up the mask.

"Oh, that's lovely," she says, and you wish you could take more credit for it. It is a beautiful thing, though: a light, glowing blue in color, with the curves and bulges of a forehead, nose, cheeks, lips and chin. Only the absence of eyeholes keeps it from looking like a classic mask.

Umeko takes it from your hand. "I had no idea you had such skill. Is this your first try?"

"More or less."

"Well, it's amazing." She frowns in astonishment. "It even looks like it has a reflection in it, like another face."

You turn a little pale; there's no way you could explain the fact that it reflects your own face and form if she should happen to recognize that that is what it is. So you gingerly pull it from her grasp. "Yeah, kind of," you say lamely. "I wish I could take credit for that, but I think it's just a trick of the light."

"You need to make another one," she enthuses. "Or even try making a bust or something. You really have been able to capture the shape of a face."

"Well, I dunno," you reply. "I was actually making this for Halloween. You know, kind of like a homemade Scream mask? But I couldn't get the mouth right. Kinda ironic, huh?" You turn it over. "I still need to punch out the eyeholes, but right now I'm not sure I've got the inside shaped so that it will fit on someone's face. Here, tell me what you think."

You hold it up; she takes it from you and presses to her face. It vanishes. You hold your breath, not certain what will happen.

For a moment she is very still, but then her arms drop limply to her sides. She wavers, and you catch her as she sinks to the side; you lay her gently on the bed. You remember that you fell asleep when you put it to your own face—probably it's an aspect of the spell to keep a victim quiet while the mask absorbs their form—but you had no idea that the thing would disappear. You watch closely to see what comes next.

Long minutes pass, and Umeko's eyes remain open but vacant, and she breathes slowly and shallowly. You greatly fear that you have misunderstood the spell, or done something wrong. What if you can't get the mask back? Worse, what if it kills her, or puts her into a coma? You shut the door softly and frantically begin reading over the spell again, trying to do the translation in your head.

For ten nerve-wracking minutes this continues, and before it is over you've begun trying to frame a story to explain Umeko's sudden loss of consciousness. Then out of the corner of your eye you see a glow emerge from her face, and the mask reappears on her brow.

Carefully you pick it up and examine it. The silvery reflection inside its outer surface has altered, so that it no longer looks like you, but you can't really tell who or what it now looks like. Otherwise, it seems unchanged. Umeko is still breathing softly, but it seems to be the breathing of someone in a light sleep; her eyes are now closed.

You put the mask aside and hasten downstairs to get a glass of water. Back in your bedroom, you rub her hands and wrists, which are very cold. With a groan she blinks her eyes open and looks around.

"Are you okay?" you ask, holding out the water.

"I think so. What—? Did I faint?"

"I think so. The mask must have cut off your oxygen or something. I thought I felt a little light-headed when I tried it on, but I didn't think anything of it at the time."

She sits up and drinks down the water. "Well, you need to do something about that," she says lightly when she's done. "Otherwise it's a nice mask."

Next: "The Offspring of Two Cousins" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 1)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 1)"