As much as you’d want to show Natalie off to Caleb and the guys, you’re intrigued by something she mentioned. The mask you made supposedly sank into you. Not just that, she said that with it she could open the next page.
In the course of a day, she seems to have done more with that book than what you could. You don’t need the book in order to be with her. But you’d be damned if you don’t take advantage of it now that she knows, and you wonder what else is in store.
You ask her to wait while you change, and run upstairs to your bedroom. After coming out again in a slightly oversized T-shirt and jeans, you find Robert waiting for you. "What’cha lookin’ at?" you demand, for he is staring at you hard.
He points to the head of the stairs. "That's a girl down there?"
"Of course she's a girl, you dingus. What, you never seen one?"
"What would a girl be doing with you?"
She's doing nothing with you yet, but you don’t want to miss the opportunity to one-up the little rat. "Doing what girls do with a guy. Hanging out. Kissing. Getting cooties."
Robert snorts. Then he asks, "How do I get a chick like that, bro!?"
"Stop being a smart-ass dweeb. Then maybe I’ll tell you." Satisfied, you run off the stairs with the last word, and tell your parents you’ll be taking Natalie around town, and that you’ll take her to her home. Your dad reminds you to at least be early for dinner, and you distractedly agree.
It’s only as you’re on the steering wheel that you realize your brother was genuinely surprised to see you with a girl. Not just that; you could swear you saw your mother smiling at you. You glance at Natalie, and she returns a smile, and you wonder if this isn’t going too fast.
It doesn't quite break the moment when she digs into her purse—which is enormous—and pulls out the hat you lost. "Forgot to tell you, I took this too."
Still, it reminds you that you're hanging out with something of a dingbat.
—
You’re back at the community center—which is slightly more crowded this time—and you keep an eye on the guard to see if he's still around. When you decide the coast is clear, you and Natalie slide your way around the building to the basement.
With Natalie by your side, practically hanging off your arm, you flip to the page she told you she unlocked. Much like the first, its bottom half is inscribed with a huge, wheel-like sigil. Then you turn back to the reverse of the page with the first spell. With an online translator and Natalie's help, you puzzle out a translation, though it is harrowing work as the connection goes in and out, and your pencil breaks multiple times as you try to transcribe the English from your phone.
When you're done, you give each other a long look. Then, though you've not said anything to each other, she pulls the mask from her oversized purse, and gives it a sober examination before handing it to you.
The mask now has some lines inside, which seem to move as you shift it around in your hands. As you focus, you notice the lines seem to form an image—of a nose, and cheeks, and lips, and as you tilt it to look down the face, of the top of a chest. You’re kinda freaked out, but you read the book again, and your lips turn dry.
The mask, apparently, has what the book calls your imago. It’s a pretty strange word, but you reckon it means something like "the entirety of your look" or something. In short—when Natalie knocked you out with the mask, it made and now contains a copy of how you look.
The page continues with the suggestion that you can add more imago to it, which allows you to create a new imago that is not of anyone in particular. The idea intrigues you, but what it says next chills your bones.
You can do it as many times as you want until you "seal" it. And once you seal it, the mask can be worn, and whoever wears it will appear as that person (or combination of persons) within the mask.
You can't help suspecting that the next spell creates that "sealant" you need to give the mask its transformative abilities. So, if you were to make that sealant, and you added it to the mask, anyone could transform into you by using that mask.
You’re lucky you didn’t call Caleb, as you fear the knowledge of the book—or worse, the mask!—would fall into the wrong hands and shenanigans would ensue, probably directly against you!
So it startles you when Natalie, who has been reading your notes over your shoulder exclaims, "Wicked!" You jump, and she says, "Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you."
"It’s alright." You fumble the mask from hand to hand. "I guess if we finished this thing, someone could use it to turn themselves into me."
"Yeah. That’s freaky." Her eyes dance. "We should test it out!"
You were afraid she'd say that. "Really?"
"Yeah, to see if it’s real!" She begins pacing the room. "Of course, we couldn't test it out on you! I mean, how could we tell if it worked if it just changes you back into yourself? So, I guess ..." Her grin is gleeful and full of mischief. "I'd have to try it out?"
"It could be really dangerous!" you remind her.
"I'm not worried." She bumps her shoulder against you, giving you a highly distracting boner. "And it's just a test. We'll do it in here. No one else has to know."
—
The next spell doesn't call for any ingredients that you don't already have on hand, but Natalie wants to see you make a mask, and she even offers to buy more supplies, even though you've got more than enough on hand. But it would put off the moment when she would be able to turn herself into your double, so you make another trip around the city, buying more of almost everything you already have. You also pick up some extra clothes at a thrift shop, and something to eat.
Back in the basement, you execute the first spell again. The only change is that you don't use the sigil in the book (as you did the first time), for Natalie cautions that you don't want to risk damaging the book. So you hand-copy the sigil into a sketchbook that Natalie is carrying around in that capacious purse of hers, and use that instead. (When you tease her about how much stuff she is able to carry around in that purse, she tells you that her father calls it her "Tardis.") The rest goes off the same as before, right down to the infernal stink. You let Natalie pluck the cooling shell from off the mirror, so that she can be startled and squawk when it twists and changes shape in her hand.
She uses the buffer on the mask to complete it while you copy the sigil of the second spell into her sketchbook, and you both finish at about the same time. Using the new copy, you execute the next spell. It uses almost exactly the same ingredients and proportions as the first spell, but this time (thank God!) it doesn't make a stink. The result is also a lot runnier: a think paste like paint or varnish. You set the bowl onto the book, and the page below turns when you lift it. This exposes an explanation of the second spell on the reverse of the turned page, and a third spell (Latin text and a sigil as with the others) on the facing page. The continuation of the earlier spell confirms that you have just made the sealant.
"Now all we have to do is brush it into the mask," Natalie says.
"So we need a paintbrush," you say. You look at her, then look down at her purse.
"It's not a real Tardis, you goose!" She smacks you lightly in the chest. "Why would I carry around a—?"
So you scramble around the basement, looking for a paintbrush. And you do find one—old, stiff, dusty—in a lopsided cabinet. It takes only a few minutes to apply the sealant to the inside of the mask she made of you, and for it to dry.
Natalie grasps the mask tightly and looks around. "I need a place to try it out! No peeking!" she adds as she grabs up the bag with the extra clothes you bought, and picks her way through the wreckage of a pommel horse to disappear behind some book cases.
You give her two minutes, then follow to check up on her. You suck in a sharp breath when you find her.
There's a narrow space behind the shelf, and lying on the dusty concrete floor is a scrawny, naked boy. He has your face.
You swallow a huge lump that has bobbed its way into your throat, and slowly back out. A dizzy spell hits you, and you put out a hand to catch yourself.
The bookcase you grab totters and topples, knocking over another and another and ... A great clattering crash, like an avalanche, roars through the basement.
You stand stock still, in shock, until the echoes fade, straining your ears. For a very long time you hear nothing.
You're about to relax when, to your horror, you hear the squeal and creak of floorboards above you, and the faint sound of voices. Someone must have heard, and they might come looking to find out what happened!
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