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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Biggest Secret in the School"  You and he end up at your house, where (as you tell Carson) you still have a few notes from when you'd had the book. He grumbles over them: "You couldn't copy more?" "No." You describe how hard it was go copy the book, and he is thoroughly alarmed by the time you're done. "I wish you'd told me all this before. Aw, hell, I wouldn't have believed you." "So, do we call the cops?" "And tell them what? We'd have to take something to them." "Like?" "I dunno. Did you do any research on that book? Even a Google search?" You shake your head, and he rolls his eyes. "Well, that's one place we can start. Right now, though, tell me what you did with it." "So, twelve days or two weeks ago, it goes into Walberg's desk, and that's the last you saw of it," he says in summary. "So, it's got to be Walberg behind it all. Unless he gave it to somebody or someone took it from the capsule or--" "Hang on," you say, and snap your fingers. "Yesterday, he basically accused me of stealing it from his desk. He asked me if I had second thoughts about giving it to him, and then he said something about how he didn't like people going through his desk." "So who--" "Dane. He's been giving Dane detention for a couple of weeks now, for doing just that. Dane's been in there, and you know Dane. He'll get into anything just for a laugh." Carson tugs on his lip skeptically. "Walberg seems the more likely suspect." "But how's he doing it? He's still around. I mean, if people are turning themselves into doppelgangers, they'd be disappearing, right? Right along with-- Oh, Jesus!" Carson looks grim. "Yeah. We need to face up to it, Prescott. This isn't just mischief. These people are getting rid of our friends. That's what it sure sounded like up there. 'Replacing', they said." You sink deeper onto your bed, and wrap your arms around your knees. "And you're right," he continues. "If they're replacing people, then they themselves would be disappearing. Unless--" "Unless what?" "Unless I don't know. We don't know how it works, what the mechanisms are. Is it like possession or body swapping? It says 'masks' here, but that doesn't tell us anything." You point at another passage. "'Beware of twins'. Shouldn't that mean that it's like shapeshifting? Like, there's the danger of the same person being seen in two different places?" "Who knows. It was originally in Latin, right? And if you've ever run anything through a translation program and back again, you know the kind of garbage you can get." A horrible pain starts somewhere near you sphincter and shoots up into and through your chest. "Then we're fucked. We don't know who's doing it or how they're doing it or why they're doing it--" "Well, we know who some of the doubles are," Carson says. "Matthias and Javits, if your ears weren't playing tricks on you. One of those guys today sounded like Gordon Black. And it sounds like Patterson isn't going to be himself for much longer." "Kim Walsh and Kendra Saunders?" you suggest. "They were with Dane and Seth last Saturday." "Best to assume that," he nods. "Though we don't want to get paranoid. Well, not much." "And there's another mystery person out there," you say, and your mouth goes very dry. "There was that third person in the bathroom. I didn't recognize his voice, but he knew what was going on. And Dane or Seth said something about 'catching him' because they needed him in a hurry. Oh God." Your throat constricts. "I think they did a replacement, right there, in the stall next to me, while I was listening!" "Keep it together, Prescott," Carson says. "We're the only two that know about this, and neither of us wants the other one losing his shit." You swallow and close your eyes, and a shudder passes through you, but when Carson asks if you're okay, you're able to nod. Still, your voice trembles when you speak again. "I don't like it only being two of us. Should we tell anyone else?" "They won't believe us. You're a fuck up and I'm a joker." "But if they come after us--" "Why would they? We're nobodies, not like-- Oh, shit. You've been running your fucking mouth about it all over the school." "No I haven't! I told Caleb, I told you-- Well, he told you--" "And Davis would have been there, and I told Lamont. And if they're telling people-- Fuck!" You take a deep breath. "Well, it can't be Walberg doing it, then." "How come?" "Because like I said, he pulled me in after school yesterday. He knows I know about the book, and if he's doing it, he could have done something to me. At least, I assume he--" You stop, for you realize that Carson is giving you a very piercing look. "Carson," you gasp, and your mouth spreads in a rictus. "It's me. I was with you on Saturday, we played tennis, I had a panic attack, I told you about--" "We don't know how this magic works," he says. "I gotta trust you, though." He gets up. "In the future, though, we meet in crowds. For your safety as well as mine." Crowds, you think after he's gone. But it's not until you're staring haggardly at the computer that you remember what day it is: Wednesday. Mozart. What could be safer than hiding in a crowd at a concert? * * * * * The foyer is enormous--and very, very beige--so that the large crowd still seems thin, and you feel very conspicuous as you sidle along toward the box office. Partly it's because you feel underdressed, even in polo shirt and slacks, around all the cocktail dresses and dark suits. But you also feel exposed. You don't realize how exposed you are until you turn around after buying your ticket and crash directly into David Kirkham. "Watch where you're going, Prescott," he says with a smooth and steely malice. You can only gasp. "You gettin' into classical music these days?" he softly asks. "Why, are you?" you blurt back. He gently flicks the lowest button of your shirt. "We should get together tomorrow at school. Have a friendly little two-man symposium on the history of the sonata-allegro form and the merits of fugue." "Oh, fugue," you say with a desperate flipness. "I don't like him." "Pah!" he laughs. "I'll see you around, Prescott. See if we can't change you into a contralto." He saunters off, and disappears into a restroom. There are lots of things about the phrase "change you" that you don't like. * * * * * "Where were you yesterday?" Caleb asks you the next morning. "No one was playing at the convention center," he objects when you tell him you were at a concert, but you're too concentrated on the crowd to clarify. So they are directly upon you before you see or even hear them, and Caleb has to pull you aside: Chelsea Cooper, Gloria Rea, Kendra Saunders, and Yumi Saito, all laughing loudly and imperiously ignoring everyone else as they breeze by. You turn to watch until they disappear. "It's a beautiful sight," Caleb mutters in your ear. "Until they catch you and give you a black eye." "It would be worth it," you say, then turn to continue on your way. You take only a dozen steps, though, before veering off toward the library, outside of which you see Carson and Paul and Jenny. They're looking in your direction but don't seem to be watching you, as Jenny for one continues to crane her neck even as you step up. "So what's the latest gossip, Ashlan?" you tease. "Huh? Oh." She looks back past you. "What do you care?" "Yeah, what do you care?" Carson echoes in a slightly more meaningful tone. You shrug. "I just saw Yumi going in with-- Oh," you grin. "You haven't heard back from your war zone correspondent." "We're not speaking to her anymore," Jenny says archly. "And I don't care who you tell. Spread it all over school. We and Yumi are dead to each other." "What?" Caleb exclaims. "The only reason I hang out with you guys is--" "Keep your shirt on, Johansson," Carson growls. "It's called keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. Jenny and Yumi figure she can milk more news if they think she's not friends with us anymore, and gets close to them." He rolls his eyes. You glance over at Paul: He looks utterly miserable. "Well still, if she's not going to be hanging out with you guys in public, there's no point in me being here." Caleb nudges you and jerks his head toward the main building. "I'm going in," Jenny says, and takes a step toward the gym. "If they see her snubbing me--" Carson grabs her. "Don't be stupid. James will be back in a bit, and then he'll wander over there to join you, and then it'll just be chaos." "So keep him distracted," Jenny says. "Where did he even go?" Your eyes briefly meet Carson's. "You're just getting yourself worked up," Carson says to the girl. "Come on, let's go in the library." She resists at first, but finally suffers to let herself be led away. Paul follows. "Hang out in Walberg's, get stuff done?" Caleb asks when they're away. Clearly, James is hanging out in the listening post, and you're dying to know what he'll have heard. And if it's anything like what you and Carson heard yesterday, he will need debriefing, and fast. Next: "An Unexpected Rescue" |
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