The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)

Frank the Show-Off

Previously: "Repairing Cindy" 

"All right, do what you have to do," you tell your doppelganger. He just grins. "Did Blackwell mention me when he called?"

"No comment."

You sigh. Probably there are forms of "Twenty Questions" that could worm information out of him, but the bell rings and you have to get to class.

Seth is by your locker after class, and he is in a much friendlier mood; he traces the edge of your shoulder bone with his fingertip while you retrieve your books, and you thrill and coo to his touch. "I have to see some guys after school," you tell him. "So I can't watch you at practice, but then ..." You trace your finger along the curve of his pecs and down the seam of his abs. "I've thinking about you all day."

"Where do you want to meet?"

"I'll have to give you a call. I'll have to get Eva or somebody to give me a ride, and she'll keep me on schedule."

He grips you by the elbows and kisses you deeply.

* * * * *

"Like, way to piss Chelsea off," Eva says on the drive out to the Durrases' house. "She's gonna make your life hell tomorrow at practice."

"What did I do?"

"Only made out with Seth in front of the whole school. We're supposed to be withholding favors from the guys until they deal with Prescott. Dur."

"When did that get decided? Oh, turn here."

"Don't you check your messages?"

"I've had other things on my mind."

"Like Seth. God, Cindy, I thought you were really into Justin, like, for real."

"I thought so too. But he's a walking chemistry lab. I saw him in the hall, and he just blinked at me like he'd never seen me. Seriously, I think his brain is turning to tapioca."

"Like Seth's got a brain worth bragging about," Eva retorts. "Are we almost there? I have to get home. Anyway, Justin's better looking than Seth, and you totally had him."

"It's that house right up there. I'll try to make it quick. And can you think of something new to talk about while I'm inside? You're freaking me out."

You hop out of the car and dash up to the front door. You hope Frank, at least, is home, because he's the one who dealt with Blackwell, and presumably has some idea of how Blackwell might have survived.

No one answers your sharp raps at the door, so you try the knob and find that it's open. You pass through the house, calling out names, but no one answers. Then a movement through the sliding glass door leading to the back yard catches your eye.

It's Frank. He's standing in the middle of the yard, staring at the sky with upraised arms. Something in his stance seems very familiar, and then you realize that it looks like he's hunching to make a free throw with a basketball. As you watch, he stretches a hand and makes a snatching motion. A second later a large, leaf-laden branch falls at his feet. He ignores it and continues to stare. Again, he makes a snatching motion, and again a branch falls to the ground.

You open the door and call; he turns and smiles quizzically. "Just trimming the tree," he says when you ask what he's doing.

You look up. Sure enough, a large tree with heavy branches bends over the yard. As you watch, Frank makes another of those snapping motions. The tree shakes, and a branch tumbles. You bend to examine it: the limb has been so neatly cut away it looks like it's been sanded smooth on the end. "Could you do this to a person?" you squeak.

He smiles and shakes his head. "A very specific technique. Joe explained the planetary thing to you last night, right? Mars is my primary influence, and Mars has influence over trees and vegetation. This isn't a 'cutting' technique, it's a 'tree trimming' technique." He laughs softly. "From a very early age Dad left care of the Christmas tree to me."

"Might have been useful on Blackwell," you say. His brow furrows. "My golem, the fake Will Prescott? He says he got a phone call from Blackwell this morning."

Frank stares. "He's jerking your chain. I dealt with Blackwell."

"Is there a body?"

"Don't be asinine. It's bad to leave anything of a magician behind. Besides, we don't want CSI teams sniffing around, do we?"

"Well, is there some way he might've survived? Like, as a ghost or something?"

Frank scratches his ear. "Doubtful. Highly doubtful. He was a rank amateur. If he could pull off that kind of escape act--" He seems to catch himself. "No, not possible."

"So what about what Prescott said?"

"He's a golem and he's a free agent now. He's jerking you around."

"See, that's what I thought, but-- Hang on, how did--?"

He waits a moment for you to finish the question. "How did what?"

"Nothing. Maybe you're right." You look around the yard, taking in all the branches that litter the ground. "Anyway, I have a ride waiting for me. When'll we get together?"

"I thought that's what you were here for."

"Can't. I made other plans." You run off back to the house. "Call this evening, I hope I'm free by then." You look back at Frank as you slide the glass door shut. He is watching you, hands on hips, with a very dark expression.

* * * * *

"I should go in there and beat the shit out of him," Seth growls. He grips the steering wheel of his truck and stares past you at Prescott's house.

"Honey, please," you say. "If you can't do it at school you can't do it in front of his parents. Besides, I'm only going to talk to him."

"Watch yourself."

"You filled me a lot of your courage," you tell him, and snatch a hungry kiss from his mouth. "Along with the other stuff. Mmmmm." You leap out of the cab and turn. "Don't wait. I'll get Lucy to pick me up. Or if things go okay, maybe Prescott will give me a ride home."

Seth swears a long streak, which you cut off by slamming the door.

His parents--your parents, you remember with a bit of a shock--greet you cordially and call Will down. At your invitation, he follows you out to the back yard. You smirk to see the envious expression on your brother's face, and put an extra swivel in your hip as you lead your doppelganger outside. "So, you hear from our friend?"

"No," he says mischievously. "But then, maybe I was supposed to tell you that I hadn't."

"I wish you weren't being such a dick. Is there some instruction saying you can't show me your phone?"

He thinks, then shakes his head and removes it from his pocket. "Checking the log? It came at 7:50 or thereabouts, as I was heading out to school."

You scroll through the list of numbers until you find it, and you don't recognize the number. "So let's see who answers," you say, hoping it's not who you're afraid it will be.

It isn't but it's practically as bad. "Yeah?" Joe Durras's cheerful voice comes on.

"Hey Joe, this is Cindy," you say, trying to hide the quaver in your voice. "Are we supposed to get together tonight?"

"Yeah, we're over at the late professor's house now. Frank was afraid you were trying to skip out on your first lesson."

"No, I just have to get a ride."

"Is that why you're calling from Prescott's phone?"

"Yeah, the battery in mine died. See you in fifteen minutes."

Your heart hammers as you hang up. You really hope Frank is right, that all this is a cruel practice joke being pulled by your replacement. Because if it isn't--

Could Blackwell have managed to get himself inside Joe somehow? Is Frank even to be trusted?

Next: "In Which Frank Beats the Crap Out of a Golem" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 3)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)"