The Book of Masks (Abridged)

The Return of Gordon Black

"LOOK, IF I'M GONNA HELP, I have to see everything you do," you insist. "There might some clues we're overlooking.

She glowers briefly. "Alright, fine. Now that I think about it, I think he kept that mask in here." She crosses to an ancient-looking cabinet. There's a key in its lock, and you notice she pockets it after opening the cabinet door. From inside she takes an object that shines with a blue light, and with obvious reluctance hands it to you. You've still got the magic book under your arm, and for lack of a better resting place you lay it atop the transformed Gordon.

It's a mask she's handed you, in shape and form like an old-fashioned tragedian's mask, though there are no eye-holes. It glints, and as you hold it up to the light you see that an image--like one of those 3D illusions--floats within its surface, and you recognize the features of Gordon Black. Turning it over, you find that it has a metal band on the inner surface inscribed with odd runes and, in Latin letters, the name GORDON GERALD BLACK. "Admiring your own handiwork?" Chelsea says with no little asperity.

I'm gonna have to go beat the shit out of Caleb, you think to yourself, for the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fit together.

As you bend over Black, a gust of wind from one of the high, open windows brushes past, and the page of the open book flips over. You pause: It had been open to the page that held the spell that transformed Gordon; now it is open to the next spell. You say nothing, though, and just push the book aside so you can put the mask onto Gordon's face.

The effect is instantaneous. Color washes over him, and his eyes snap open. They bore into the ceiling, and then shift onto you. You draw back.

"Gordon!" Chelsea thrusts past you and falls onto him. "Oh, thank God!"

"The fuck is going on?" he groans softly. He puts a hand to his forehead and closes his eyes. "I thought--" His eyes snap open again, and he glares at you. "The fuck is the idea of-- What did you do to me?"

"You did it to yourself!" Chelsea shouts. "You and your stupid, macho--"

"All I know," he says, pushing her off, "is that I'm going around the corner and this fucker steps out in front of me and shoves something in my face." He stands, and you back up, but his arm is very long, and a second later he has you by the collar and has dragged you back close. Then he blinks and looks around. "How the fuck did I get up here?"

"Baby, don't you remember?" Chelsea says. "Last night, you were working on that stupid spell, and you set yourself on fire, you-- you moron!"

"What are you talking about," Gordon says, sounding genuinely bewildered. "First thing is I'm gonna punch this motherfucker through the wall," he says, drawing back his fist, "and then--"

"Leave him alone!" Chelsea cries. "He fucking saved you!" To your immense surprise Gordon releases you. "Don't you remember anything?" She looks at you. "Is it amnesia?"

"It's not Gordon," you say with a firmness that surprises even yourself. "It's the mask." Chelsea's face twists up in puzzlement and fear. "Don't you see? He doesn't remember anything since--" You lick your lips, though you're pretty sure of your deductions. "Since I made that mask of him. This is the copy of Gordon that's in the mask. It's not the real Gordon, the one who--"

Her eyes widen. "You mean Gordon is still--?"

"Masks!" Gordon exclaims, and his eyes go wide in horror. "I was up here! Jesus, there was another guy and he looked just like me! He was pissed! He kept telling me to--" He swallows and touches his face. "To take my mask off."

"Oh God!" Chelsea claps a hand over her gaping mouth. "Shut up!"

Gordon's mouth snaps closed.

Now he's just standing there. First, he lets you go at Chelsea's command. Now he's mute. You creep close to him. He draws back, but otherwise doesn't react. "Hand me the book," you order Chelsea, and after she gives it to you, you flip through it until you find the word you want. "Tell him to let me touch his face," you ask Chelsea, and after she complies you grasp Gordon's pale brow and murmur the magic word three times. The mask comes free in your hand; Gordon turns back into a statue, and moments later crashes to the ground.

"Well, I'd say that confirms it," you sigh. "You've got a back-up copy of him, but that's all for now. He has to follow your orders too, I think."

She sidles up to the statue on tiptoes, and peers down at it, then gives the mask you hold a sidelong glance. "I suppose that'll work," she says, sounding very calm, and her eyes glint thoughtfully.

"Look, you're gonna have to give me everything you've got, all the stuff you made with this book, and all the stuff you used," you say. She frowns rebelliously, but you're firm. "I have to figure this stuff out if I'm gonna have any chance of fixing Gordon, and I'm gonna have to get my hands dirty doing it."

"Mmm," she says. "Yeah I guess you do." With your help she starts filling up a cardboard box with what she's got. Mostly it's little containers of powders and liquids; a convex mirror; and she exclaims a little when, down under some junk, she finds another mask, this one mostly white and with only a few patches of clear blue showing.

She insists on keeping the mask of Gordon, though, and you accede. "Just wait till I'm gone before letting him loose again, okay?" you ask as you open the door. "Oh, and you might tell him to start being nice to me."

* * * * *

You take the treasure trove over to the old elementary school near your house. It closed its doors a decade ago, and part of it was turned into a community recreational center. But last year you found your way into the basement through an outside door. After rearranging its contents whimsically, you'd left it, putting a padlock of your own on the door. When you get over there, you're grateful to see that your lock is still in place. Inside, you spread out the material, open the book, and start going through it systematically.

Evening has begun to fall, and you're completely exhausted, before you're done. But it's been a productive day. You have another mask--a dull white thing that needs to be polished. You also have several pots of a sealant and one of those mind-reading bands. You glower over the latter. Unlike the metal strip that Caleb gave you, this one has runes etched into it. Once you have the mask polished, you can start assembling the final product. Another spell will attach the band to the inside of the mask, and that will let you copy a person inside and out. Then you'll seal it and be able to wear it yourself.

Left undone are the spells connected to Gordon's accident. You don't have a hundred pounds of graveyard earth to make one of those statue things, but Chelsea said it took a week to make anyway. And of course you know better than to use that one spell to turn yourself into a statue. But the satirical thought briefly forms that Caleb would make a good victim.

That just leaves the new spell, the one that opened after you set the book onto Gordon. You can't tell what it does--the page only gives ingredients and instructions. So as you lock up for the night, you wonder whether you should go through that next spell tomorrow by yourself or prepare it in Chelsea's presence. On the one hand, your partnership with her seems like an unstable thing. But she has shown that she trusts you by letting you take all that stuff with you. That's fairly remarkable, considering what she thinks you tried doing to her boyfriend.