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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Book, Mobile" Meet me up at school. Now. Your hands freeze around the phone as you study Chen's text. Your brain seems to freeze as well. He has the book, and as a last resort you texted him, pleading with him to give it back to "Will Prescott," the guy it belongs to. And, almost without thinking, you promised to do him "a solid" if he did that. Now your bluff has been called. What kind of a "solid" are you willing to do for Chen to get the book back? * * * * * It is dark and cold and drizzly as you huddle in your car, shivering inside a cheap windbreaker. It's nine-thirty at night, and you're parked in the Westside lot, waiting for Chen. The glow of the city reflects dimly off the lowering clouds, and the rain drops on the windshield shatter the lights of the passing cars into kaleidoscopic blobs. One of those blobs, eventually, will be Chen. Coming out to meet him this way has got to be the bravest thing you've ever done. Your earlier meetings were straightforward transactions—money for weed. But behind this appointment there is a different, though unspoken, kind of transaction promised. But you know it's one that Chen will try to hold you to, regardless of whether you pretend not to have meant or understood it. But you brought protection with you. Not Gordon, who is the kind of protection that Chelsea would usually bring to a situation like this. But the real Gordon would never let her come out to this kind of meeting, and the new one, you sense, would be useless in spite of his physical size. Nor is it your best friend, Caleb Johansson, who drove out with you and is who presently hiding under your car. Caleb would be even more useless in a fight than Gordon, but from that hiding place, he might have the element of surprise on his side if it comes to a fight. But the real protection you're banking on comes in the form of a mask. It's a mask in the form of an expressionless human face, but it glows from within with a soft, bluish light. Caleb brought it with him when you picked him up. It contains a copy of his face and body. Your plan is to get close enough to Chen that you can push the mask onto him. Then, while he's knocked out, you'll get the book from him, rip the mask off him, and escape. Your phone lights up with a text. See him yet, Caleb wants to know. No keep phone off so he dont see the lite, you warn him. He won't dude got it chielded. Just be careful. Don't burst your hymen. You make a face and toss the phone aside. He can be so annoying, you think to yourself. Some five minutes later, headlamps pull into the lot. They sweep around, then twist to aim right at you. Chen's Jeep roars up, swerves, and parks in front in front of you. The motor idles. Another text, this one from Chen: Cm get in. You blink at it, then reply, Get in my car. The Jeep swerves around to park next to you. Braving the rain, you hop out to meet and delay him. Keep him close to the car, you remind yourself, so Caleb can grab him by the ankle after we start talking. But Chen remains in the Jeep with the motor running. The handle to the passenger-side door jiggles, and flops open. Then Chen is beckoning to you from inside the dark cab of the Jeep. Fuck. You wanted him to get out, so Caleb could get at him, but it looks like you blew plan that by getting out first. With gritted teeth you climb into the Jeep and pull the door closed. So now it's just you and the mask. It's in your hand, tucked by your hip. In the dark of the cabin, maybe you'll still stand a good shot at surprising him with it. "Hey," you sigh. "Thanks for meeting up like this—" "No, thank you!" You can hear the leer in his voice, and pull a face. "Did you bring that book like I asked?" He grunts. "Can I see it?" "How come? What's the big deal about it?" "No big deal. It's just a favor I owe to, um—" "You mean like a solid? You owe that fucking little twerp a solid?" He sniggers. You wince. "Sort of. So if you could give it to me—" "Tell me about the solid you're going to do for me. With details." You shudder. "I want to see the book first." Then, in a rush: "I want to see the book first, Gary! I don't want you thinking you can, you know, take advantage of me!" "Jesus, you're paranoid," he says. "Maybe I can be paranoid, too." He doesn't explain his meaning, and you let out a tiny sigh of relief as he unzips the book bag sitting between you and rummages inside it. You bring the mask up into your lap, trying to shield it from his gaze. You must not have succeeded. For, quick as a cobra, his hand shoots out and grabs at you. You squeal and drop the mask. "Gary!" you simper. "What are you—?Yyymgghmmphhh!" A strong hand closes over your mouth. Then another one seizes you by the forehead. You grab at his forearm and pull. But he's too strong—or too desperate. At any rate, he's too quick. Chen mutters under his breath and pulls at your face. The world reels and goes out of focus. Then, like a TV losing its signal, the world goes dark. * * * * * It's the pain in your feet that wakes you. They are in an agony, as though jammed inside a far too-tight pair of shoes. It's dark, and your head is reeling, and you have no idea what is going on. But the pain—! You fall onto your side and reach for your feet. Ripples like lightning shoot up your calves. You gasp and fumble at your feet. You are in fact wearing a pair of shoes, you realize, but in the cramped, enclosed space you've woken in, you can't reach them easily. You fight to get your hands somewhere—anywhere!—near your feet, and at last succeed by folding yourself up and twisting your legs up beside you. You suppress a yelp as you tear at tight, recalcitrant shoelaces. At last you pop one shoe off—it feels as though someone has tried to fold your foot in half, and you nurse the pain as you fight the other shoe. After you get it off, you lay on your side, panting. Voices are sounding nearby—a mix of words and howls—but you're too winded to care. Where am I? you wonder. The last you remember was sitting in the school parking lot, waiting for Chen. No, wait, now you remember him arriving. And you got in his Jeep. You were going to— But then he— You bolt upright and look around. You're still in Chen's Jeep, but he's gone, though his backpack remains. In something like panic you paw through it, yanking items out and peering at them through the darkness, until finally— Yes! You pull the book free. You're turning to hop out when you notice how twisted up you are inside your clothes. They are too small for you. These are Chelsea's clothes, you think. Then: Why are Chelsea's clothes too small for me? You freeze as, with dawning horror, you remember the way Chen grabbed at your face. With a gulp of fear, you hop out of the Jeep. Two figures are huddled nearby, one bending over the other. They're shouting and blubbering at each other. You just have time to take in the sight when the standing figure turns toward you. It's Chen. Before you can duck, he swings a hard fist, knocking you to the stony blacktop. * * * * * It's an hour before he lets you go, an hour during which he takes turns pounding first you and then Caleb. Your resistance snaps pretty quickly, but he doesn't leave off smacking and gut-punching and kicking you even as you bleat and blurt out the answers to questions before he even asks them. And Caleb is just as eager as you to tell Chen everything about the book and the masks. Afterward, after he's gone, as you and Caleb huddle in Chelsea's car, you piece together what it all means. After you met with Chen at his house, you deduce, he must have taken a much closer look at the book and read what it claimed to be able to do. Maybe he was paranoid or maybe he was just very quick about doing the math, but he must have figured there was something to what it said—and he must have prepared himself for your meeting by memorizing the spell for removing a mask. It's the only way to explain how he got you out of Chelsea's. You put that mask back on and take Caleb home, then return to your house, where you pass a very restless night of waking nightmares. Chen may left you Chelsea's mask, but he took everything else, including the book and your key to the basement. What he could do with the book, you shudder to think. And what will he do with you? You have a chance to find out the next morning when he sends a flurry of texts: Cm out to that old school at ten so we can talk Or don't makes no duck to me But I could maybe use u n maybe u still want some kind of deal That's all for now |