A chill engulfs you as you take in the words, and your stomach twists with bile. You knew the masks could be dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands. But you also they could just be something fun to play with. You might even be able to do some good with them. They are, after all, just a kind of tool, to be used for good or ill depending.
But the spell you just read? It's evil. Nothing that can redeem it or anyone who dares to use it. No noble cause could be justified by a human sacrifice.
And you're pretty sure you're facing someone who's more than willing to do so. You have to stop Blackwell. But how?
"Hey, Will?" Taylor's voice jerks you from your thoughts. "You alright?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure. Fine." You look at Robert, who's dutifully polishing his mask. Oh, boy, he's so lucky that he doesn't know a thing about this, you think to yourself.
Then you look at Taylor. If there's someone you can trust your fears to, it has to be him.
"Hey, mind if we go talk someplace else?", you ask him. You glance about, scouting for another, more private spot. "There's something I need to talk to you about." He nods, but looks a little uncertain as you get to your feet. "Wait here", you tell Robert. "Just keep working, watch our stuff. We'll be right back."
"Where you going?"
"I gotta talk to Taylor."
"About what?"
"Private stuff. Big guy stuff."
"The fuck are you—?"
You grab your brother by the head. "Watch your language, bro! People can hear! And it's stuff that doesn't concern you. Stuff he doesn't need you listening. Okay?" You let him go.
"Yeah, sure, whatever", he grumbles, and gives you the evil eye before resuming work on the mask.
"So what do you need to talk to me about?" Taylor asks as you lead him into the stacks. "It's not about Lucy, is it?"
"No. Well, sort of. Actually, I guess it is." You spot a single, small table in a corner, cut off from the rest of the library by bookshelves, and steer toward it. "It's about that fake version of her. I think I figured out how it works."
"Whoa, that's awesome! I guess Lucy was wrong about you after all."
You gulp. "Yeah, about that." You settle at the table and take a deep breath. "Actually, she might be right."
That catches his attention. "What?"
You open the Eastman notebook and gesture him to join you. Briefly, as you flip through its pages, you outline the spells and how they can be used to create a fake person. "Then", you conclude, "after you have the full person copied, you just put it on this statue thing, and it turns into a duplicate of them."
Taylor lets out a low whistle. "That's perfect. I mean, it's horrible, but it's perfect. You know, for replacing someone with a fake of themselves. So I think you're right, that's what that thing must be." He snaps his fingers. "But if we can grab it and pull the mask off, we can make it go away, right?"
"Sure, but—" You lick your lips. "Here's what I meant about Lucy maybe being right about this stuff, and what it can do to a person." You flip to the next page. "This is another way of making one of those statue things. And look what it calls for."
Taylor stares down at the words you're pointing to. Human sacrifice. He jerks his head up and stares at you, the whites showing around his eyes.
"And here—" You open Blackwell's notebook. "Here's his notes on it. See the word? 'Cadaver'."
Taylor's face turn sickly green. "Man, that's sick", he says. Then his expression falls and his eyes widen. "Wait. You're not— You're not saying that you—"
"Hell no! I'm just saying, look what it's asking you to do! That book!" You feel yourself starting to shake. "Lucy said it could lead you into doing really evil stuff. She was right about that! That's what I mean!"
Taylor's face loses the green, but it remains chalky in color. "So we really need to stop the professor", he says. "Before he—"
"That's just it." You take a deep breath. "I think the professor already did."
Taylor's eyes pop. "What? Who?"
You cover your mouth and nose with your hands and take a couple of deep breaths. Your heart is beating hard. It's awful enough to think what you are thinking. But to say it out loud ...
"My dad's the one who sold it back to the professor, right? But ever since he went to see him, he's just been ... I dunno. Off. Before, like, he really wanted me to go to work at Salopek. Then all of a sudden, after selling the book to the professor, he doesn't care. I can't put my finger on anything else that's different about him. He seems mostly the same, I guess. But I can't shake the feeling—" You sigh. "I dunno. Maybe I'm being paranoid?"
Taylor makes no immediate reply, but glances around. In a low voice he says, "With these masks, it's easy to be paranoid. And we know, right? With Lucy? There are fakes. But why do you think the professor might've—" He touches the notebook with a fingertip. "He didn't use this spell on Lucy. Why do you think he used it on your dad?"
"Because it's easier to keep a college girl prisoner than a full-grown man? I mean—" You swallow hard, pushing down the bile that wants to spew out. "If you want to replace someone with a fake, you have to get rid of the— the—"
"Don't say it, Will." He lays his hand on yours. "But you can count on me to help. Any way I can."
"Thanks, man." You don't feel any better, but you are glad you said something. Though it's a terrible burden to put on someone, you do feel better for having Taylor to share it. "Just don't tell Robert, okay? I really don't want to freak him out."
"I get you. But this means the sooner we take out the professor, the better."
You nod, and chew on a thumbnail. But how? Get the fake Lucy off the street, turn it to your side, use it to get close to Blackwell?
"Is there anything in those notebooks that could help?" Taylor asks.
"Huh? Oh." Yes, now that he's said it, that's the most practical idea. "I should keep looking through them", you say. "And while I'm doing that— Hey, that stuff you took out of the basement. Can you put it back in case I need it to work on?"
"Lucy won't like that."
"Can you hide somewhere where she won't find it? And keep her out of the basement as much as possible? You know, she'd probably like that anyway."
Taylor nods. "I'll see what I can do. Is there anything else?" You shake your head. "Then let's head back before your brother starts thinking we're back here making out or something." He grins.
You only grimace back. You're sure it's a slander that Robert is already entertaining.
--
It is already dark and creeping up on Robert's comparatively early Sunday curfew when you leave the library. Robert hasn't said much, and it's not until you're driving home that he asks the question—as pointed as a thrown dart—of you. "So, what did you and Taylor talk about when you went off?"
"Private stuff", you growl back.
"Yeah, I bet." He has the mask out, but keeps only attention for you. "Was it about that Lucy girl?"
"I told you it's not about—" But you catch yourself as you realize Robert has just given you the perfect cover. "Yeah. It was about her."
"So why'd you have to go off?"
"'Cos Taylor didn't need you listening in while we talked about his girlfriend. Okay? You'll understand when you're older. When you've got a girlfriend."
"I've got a girlfriend! And you don't!"
"I've had girlfriends, so I—! And who's your girlfriend?"
"That's private stuff", he retorts.
You both lapse into a moody silence for awhile. But Robert must have been following a train of thought, because when he speaks again, he says, "Was it because Lucy doesn't like this stuff? Is that what you wanted to talk to him about?"
"It was connected to that. And she's right, you know. This stuff could really be misused."
"I'm not gonna do anything bad with it", Robert says. He lifts the mask—now almost completely polished—to study. "Maybe prank some of the guys at school. Or, like, use it to get into the girls' locker room."
You smack him in the side of the head.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"That's so you don't say something like that in front of Lucy! Or even Taylor. But I get you", you add with a chuckle. "That'd be fun."
--
The talk with Robert lightens your mood, but the sense of dread falls on you again when you're home, and your mother stops you at the foot of the stairs. "Can you go tell your dad I'm ready to watch our show?", she says. She's sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, with her knitting spread over her lap. "Oh, and Will", she adds with a direct smile. "I just wanted to say how much I like that you're spending more time with Robert. It's really good for both of you."
You nod, but all the muscles in your neck and upper back tighten.
You throw your book bag over your shoulder and go down the hall to your dad's home office. The door's partly open, and through the crack you can see him frowning fiercely at a stack of papers on his desk. He seems very intent on them. So intent, it occurs to you, that you might be able to sneak in and overpower him, and pry a mask off his face.
If there is indeed a mask to pry off. But how much trouble would you be in if there isn't?
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