This choice: Play it safe and only keep what you've got • Go Back...Chapter #65... And a Return to Home by: Seuzz   Malaika Mbulu. The successor-in-waiting. The girl who sooner or later--probably sooner--will become the head of the Stellae Errantes. If you were able to seize her, as you've seized Frank and Joe and Rick--and as you plan to seize Aparijita--you'd have control that powerful, esoteric order in a few years. It's an idea you'd toyed with, but set aside as too risky.
And it still strikes you as too risky. "We can't do anything with her, not directly, not as long as Charles and Fyodor and Margaret are still around," you say after a long moment's thought.
"This is a perfect chance," Aparijita insists.
"Don't fight me on this," you tell her. "I'm in charge, and I'm playing not to lose. Thing to do--" you continue over her attempted interruption. "Is to wait for her to succeed to the office. Then find a new Stellae before the others do. We're due for another Eldibrian/Catilindrian, for instance. Haven't seen an Arbolean/Kenandandran in a while either. We find them, do a substitution, and get them alone with Malaika when the time is ripe. That's when we make our play for all the marbles."
Your passenger acquiesces. "Where are we going now? To Cuthbert?"
"No need. The others are just waiting for my call to pull out. We gotta couple of houses here and some arrangements to make. Including getting you taken apart."
"Don't you like me the way I am," she purrs. "Aparijita is fully trained--"
"I haven't thought that far ahead. Only far enough to know that--"
You look over at her. The anima band is inside her, but with Rick's eyes you can see the malignant stain on her forehead.
"Only far enough to know that Rick Bredon won't be surviving," you mutter.
* * * * *
You drive over to the house Joe and Frank had been renting, where you find the mailbox overflowing, and a musty smell inside the house. You take Aparijita into the garage, and she watches with cursory interest as you use your notes to scribble the complicated sigils on the oil-stained concrete ground. You set out bottles and masks in the necessary places, then rip the anima band before she can react. You throw her unceremoniously onto the sigil and activate the spell. Her imago leaps in a great flame and copies itself into a mask. After that, with more care and leisure, you strip her of her own anima and essentia, leaving a bare, clay-like golem. You carefully label the bottles but do nothing more with them; later, you will have to decide whether to split her essentia into its two components, and put them into some new combination. She was right: it's a good combination of elements, and Aparijita wore them well. You'd rather regret not getting to know her better.
When that's all done you wolf down what's left of the edible food in the pantry and call your confederates in Cuthbert. "Time to collect Aunt Sarah," you tell Sam Gibson. "Time to come home."
"Aren't we gonna add Aparwhatshername's skin to Nate's collection?" he asks.
"We're leaving enough behind. You got all the stuff out of the church?"
"All stowed away."
"Then Aunt Sarah will meet you downstairs at the house."
* * * * *
The suitcase is light in your hand as you totter down the staircase. You jump and squeal a little as Melody materializes around the banister on the ground floor. "Sarah, what are you--?"
"Grandmother's sending me away," you reply with a flutter. "My health--" You swallow. "It's not all it should be."
Melody watches you gravely, then catches your arm as you pass. "Sending you away," she echoes. "Where is she--?"
"I don't know," you whisper back, feigning great fright. "She just told me-- Oh, Melody, do think of me." You clutch her, and she clutches you back. Then, putting on a brave face, you go into the parlor. The golem-witch of Cuthbert looks up at you in puzzlement. "I'm ready to go now, Grandmother," you say.
She stares back at you with a lack of comprehension. But the golem can sense your presence, and knows not to argue. "Godspeed, girl," she says, and looks away.
But you've one last set of instructions, and bend over her to whisper in her ear. "Keep Nate close," you murmur. "Listen to him. Do as he says."
She shudders, but nods.
You straighten up--as best you can with Sarah's bent bones--at the sound of a car engine. Outside, Zach Martin scoots over as you get into the truck cab next to him. Sam Gibson leans to look past him at you. "You plannin' on lookin' like that all the way back to Saratoga Falls, Willie boy?" he cackles.
"No more than you're planning on looking like a three hundred pound sack of shit, Joe Durras," you retort. He laughs. "But not till we get onto the highway. Come on, let's get going."
As you blow past the gas station, you shift faces, bringing up the remote sigil, and plunge into Will Shabbleman's golem-like body. To your disgust, you find yourself out back of the station, jerking off into the darkness. You snort and tuck yourself back in. "We're out of here," you say aloud to yourself. "Stick close to Grandmother. When strangers show up--probably about in a week--call Frank Durras's cell number."
Then you pull back into your own body. It feels stiff and ungainly in Aunt Sarah's frock, and Joe laughs long and loudly at your discomfort.
Until you flip your face to his, putting a twin of his inside the dress.
* * * * *
"Fuck, that was an adventure and a half," Joe says the next morning as he shuffles into the dining room, clad only in his boxers. "Glad it's over, though. Shit, some of the girls up there were starting to look good." He shudders.
Frank, dressed in track pants and a t-shirt, slurps from his coffee. "But we're still not set up here." He looks between you and Rick, who are nursing coffees of your own. "We can't go back to Eastman, not after missing so many classes without an excuse."
"You couldn't go back anyway," Rick says. "Frank and Joe Durras are now just a couple of skins hanging up in Cuthbert. We shouldn't even be here. We need to hide out at Gandalf's until we figure out our next move."
"Alright, alright," Joe grumbles. "Thanks for letting me sleep in till--" He glances at the clock. "Fuck! Seven? No wonder I feel like I only got four hours of sleep." He scratches his scalp deeply.
"Move it, kid!" Rick shouts, and Joe vanishes in a blur, to reappear only seconds later in fresh jeans and a button-down shirt.
"We should get rid of Blackwell, too," you say as you get up. "Burn his house down. No loose ends."
"But where do we hide out then?" Frank asks as he and Rick stand in turn. "Straussler's?"
"Lots of room there," you reply. "From there we can infiltrate--"
You stop and blink stupidly to yourself. This is the place you've been fighting your way toward since Frank and Joe showed up in your life: a secure spot, safe from pursuit or persecution, where you can plot out the rest of your life as you wish. But you've made no plans beyond getting to this spot.
"We could get back into Eastman by using Straussler," Joe says. "We got friends there. Friendships to renew. Friends to recruit." He grins. "Friends to become."
"There's Westside, too," Frank says, glancing at you. "There's another Will Prescott out there, and he's probably been wondering what happened to us."
"Why are you guys thinking about high school still?" Rick says. "Of all the juvenile--"
"'Cos it's high school, man," Joe exclaims. "There's parties and girls and--" His mouth falls open. "Oh, fuck, forget high school! We should get into Keyserling!"
"Blackwell's set up to give us that," Frank says, cocking an eyebrow.
"We need to get rid of him," Rick says.
"Which one of us is Will Prescott pretending to be," Joe demands with a frown. He looks around, and does a double take at you. "Oh yeah. Looking like that, it'd be you."
"Oh, do I get to make the decisions now?" you ask with heavy sarcasm.
"Unless--" Joe peers at you narrowly. "You got that special mask of yours nailed to your face? None of us can--?"
"Of course, and no you can't."
"Then I guess it's not a democracy anymore," he sighs. "But if you want my advice--" He pauses, as though expecting you to interrupt with a demurral. When you just continue to listen politely, he actually looks pleased. "Well, if you want my advice," he says again, "we'll go back to one of the high schools."
"I thought you were suddenly hot for college."
"Time for that next year," he shrugs. "You only get to be a senior once."
"Eastman's too obvious a place to hide, Joe," Frank says.
"So make it Westside."
"Keyserling," Rick says firmly.
They all look at you.
"Let's go see Blackwell," you say in lieu of making a decision.
* * * * *
But you do think about it on the drive over. You feel like Rick's right: There are investigations to pursue at Keyserling, and Blackwell (and Melody Weiss's golem) gives you an entre there. And to return to high school, after all you've done ...
... Actually, it might be kind of a trip. You feel very powerful now. There's no one at either school that could stand up to you.  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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