The Book of Masks (Vol. 1)

When Three Is Two Too Many

Previously: "It's Alive!" 

"Buy the book?" You echo Jeremy's words. "What are you talking about?"

He glances over his shoulder, at the door Seth vanished behind.

"What I said," he replies in a low voice. "I'll buy the book off you, and you, y'know, disappear."

You're too stunned to reply.

"It's nothing personal, Will," he goes on. "I'm not trying to get rid of you—"

"It sounds like you are!"

Jeremy makes a face. "Do you wanna hang out with Seth?"

"Do you?"

Okay, it's a dumb question: Jeremy and Seth are friends. But Jeremy has put your back up.

But before he can argue some more, the door opens and Javits comes back in. "Okay, let's take a look at what we got," he says, and he ignores you and Jeremy both as he marches back over to the work table and the book.

* * * * *

There follows an hour of experimentation. You unpack all the ingredients again, and together the three of you mix up another batch of magical batter. Seth pours it over the mask, peels it off after it has set, and—

Twice more you mix up ingredients and pour them out, so that you and Jeremy each get a chance to peel the solidified shell off the mask. Twice more, as happened to Seth both previous times, the featureless shell twisted into the shape of a mask. Jeremy holds onto it when it happens to him; like Seth, you flinch and drop yours. It felt like a snake twisting around in your hand to bite you.

"Okay, what happens next?" Seth asks in a hoarse voice.

"The instructions say something about polishing the masks."

"Something?" Seth's tone turns scornful.

"I think!" you exclaim. "It's in Latin, man, cut me some—"

"Stop your fucking whining. Here." He digs his cell phone out. "Show me where it says what we need to do next."

You point to the sentence on the page where you think it describes the next step. With his tongue between his teeth, Seth types the words in, cussing to himself the whole time. Behind his back, Jeremy shoots you a look whose meaning is unmistakable: I warned you.

"Okay, yeah, looks like it says something about polishing," Seth announces a few minutes later. "Yo," he says to Jeremy. "You got a couple of chamois cloths or something?"

Or something, you mutter to yourself as Jeremy turns to a cabinet. Then you start as Seth snaps his fingers in your face. "What's the rest of the thing say?"

"Huh?"

"The rest of the thing, the paragraph or the fucking spell or whatever it is. What's the rest of it say?"

"I don't remember."

Seth snorts, then bends over the book with his cell phone and resumes tapping into it. The book doesn't like it when you try to copy down what it says, you want to tell him when he starts cussing again. But you restrain yourself.

Meanwhile, Jeremy has ducked into the house, leaving you to pace the garage and wonder if you can still take him up on his offer to buy the book so you can escape. But when he returns with a couple of cloths, Seth glances over his shoulder and tells the two of you to start polishing up a couple of masks. "It doesn't say how long it'll take," he warns. With a sigh and without much enthusiasm, you pick up a mask, take a cloth from Jeremy, and start wiping the surface as though you were drying a plate.

"So what's the point of these things?" Jeremy says. You're about to tell him you don't know when he adds, "Yo! Seth! What's the book say?"

There's no missing the hooded glance that Javits tosses sidelong at you. "Tell you later," he mutters at Jeremy.

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"I'll tell you later," Seth repeats.

"You mean after Will leaves? You'll tell me then? Tell us both now," he continues when Seth glares at him. "It's Will's book."

Seth's gaze slides over to you. He sucks in a cheek, then says, "How much you want for it?"

"To buy it off me?"

"Will says it's not for sale," Jeremy says. "I already asked him if he wants to sell it." He lifts his chin, and Javits grimaces.

"That right, Prescott? You don't wanna sell it?"

You're tempted to name an extravagant price, but shake your head instead.

Jeremy lets the moment sink in, then says, "So what's it say? What are these for, what do they do?"

"Don't know. I didn't finish translating it." He turns back to the book.

Recklessly, with the feeling that you'll regret it and regret it soon and deeply, you say, "I don't remember what the rest of the spell says, but earlier in the book it says something about making disguises. Magic disguises, so you can disguise yourself as other people. I bet that's what these things are for." You tap your mask with a fingernail. "Makes sense, doesn't it?"

Jeremy drops only a single word into the ensuing silence. "Seriously?"

"I dunno," you say.

"Sounds like a lot of bullshit," Seth mutters.

But you didn't mold a face into this mask I'm polishing, cocksucker, you think at his back. Something else did.

* * * * *

Five minutes of light polishing doesn't seem to do anything to your mask or to Jeremy's, and when you risk putting it to your face nothing happens. Seth picks up a mask to work on and gives it a vicious rub-down, in a single spot, pinching it between thumb and fingers. After a few minutes of this he has worn a faint bluish streak into it. He redoubles his efforts, but after ten minutes—during which you and Jeremy work harder as well—he only rubbed as a spot about the size of a quarter from a grayish-white into a cerulean blue.

"Oh, fuck this," he growls. "This is gonna take forever. Here. Prescott." He shoves a second mask at you. "Take this home with you. Work on it."

"I already got one!"

"You got two, now! Richards and me'll work on ours."

"Why do I have to work on two of them and you guys—?"

"'Cos it's your book!" He picks up another mask and starts working at it while glowering at you.

Fuck this shit, you think, and with a muttered "Later" you stalk off to your truck.

Jeremy follows, and leans in the driver's side window after you're in the cab. "Should'a sold it to me," he tells you in a quiet voice.

"Jesus, man, I wanted it just to be us," you murmur back. He shrugs. "But thanks for sticking up for me," you mutter. You twist the key in the ignition, and the motor roars to life.

"Listen." Jeremy puts his hand on your shoulder. "Did you know what this, uh, this book could do? When you said you wanted to show it to me?"

Now it's your turn to shrug. "I knew what it said. But, you know, I didn't believe it."

"Nhn," Jeremy says. "Well, thanks. I mean," he corrects himself, "thanks for thinking of me." He steps back. You flash him a tight smile, put the truck in reverse, and jack-rabbit backward into the street.

* * * * *

It's nearing suppertime as you leave Jeremy's house, and you barely make it home in time for the meal. In the middle of it your dad turns a frown onto you. "What happened to that book you were showing me? The trick book, with the hidden lock?"

"Oh!" You totally forgot to tell him that you'd taken it back. "Um, I took it up to school, showed it to some friends. Is that okay?"

"It's your book. Did they figure anything out about it? Who'd you show it to? Caleb?"

"Carson Ioeger, some other guys. Jeremy Richards," you add for no reason you can understand, except a habit of blurting out the truth when your dad fixes you with a stare.

"How is Jeremy?" you mother asks. "I never see him around anymore. You used to have him over all the time."

"He's fine," you mutter. "And tall. Can I be excused? I'm not real hungry." You take your plate into the kitchen and skedaddle up to your bedroom before the conversation becomes even more agonizing.

You throw yourself onto your bed and snatch up your cell phone, more out of habit than any desire to call or text anyone. But you need to talk about the weird day with someone, so you call Caleb.

"Yeah, what's your emergency?" he honks when he answers.

"Who says I have an emergency?"

"You ever hear of texting someone instead of barging in with a phone call?"

"What, am I interrupting something?"

"An archaeological dig."

"The fuck?"

"I haven't started yet, so don't worry about it."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm on my way out to the school. Well, I will be, when it's dark. Around midnight maybe. Wanna come with?"

"Caleb, listen to me very carefully, and try to understand what I'm saying. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm gonna dig up the time capsule. Swap out my contribution, like I told you. Like I told you," he adds with extra venom, "and you refused to help."

"Oh, that. Wait, weren't you gonna try to get it out of Walberg's desk?"

"I figure digging it up'll be safer. Well? This is your last chance to avoid pissing me off."

You roll your eyes.

Then another thought hits you.

Next: "Mugged by Magic" 

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