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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Pair of Jokers"  Your stomach heaves. To find yourself--not yet eighteen years old--in a kill-or-be-killed situation ... No, you can't do it. And you say so. Caleb gapes. "Come on, dude! It's Patterson! The guy is, like, bad news!" "I can't do it again," you say firmly. "He can do it to me, but I won't do it to him." Caleb stares at you, and you're startled by his expression. It looks like ... respect. He takes a deep breath. "Okay, so what do we do?" "Wait for him to show up. See what he has to say." You run a nervous tongue over your lower lip. "If you don't want to stick around--" "No, that's okay," he quickly interrupts. "I don't want to lose track of you. The real you." Still, he looks discomfited, and glances around. "I'll call him, see what the hold up is." He disappears from view. While he's gone--and it seems like forever--you pace up and down the basement. You've had all day to prey on Patterson and whatever plans he might have for you. Every line of thought has circled back to the same paradox: He would have to golemize you and Caleb in order to keep the book for himself--or to keep himself safe from you and your friend. But even though you have a very low opinion of his morals and ethics, you can't bring yourself to believe he would actually go through with it. You are at a total loss, then, to anticipate what he might be up to. Maybe he himself doesn't know? That's the thought that has you rooted to the floor when you hear voices. The basement door opens and Caleb and-- --Will Prescott-- come down the stairs. Caleb is looking very grim, and his eyes flit between you and your double. The latter, though, is looking very smug. "Sorry about double-crossing you this morning, Prescott," he says. "But I had a sudden idea, and didn't have time to explain it. No hard feelings?" He actually holds out his hand. You decline to take it. "Are you gonna let me out now?" "I told you, I don't want your life. I just want the book." "And what are you going to do about me and Caleb?" He smirks as he drops his backpack--your backpack--from his shoulders. "Well, that's something we have to discuss, isn't it? But just hold the thought. This is pretty fucking messed up, me talking to you like this, isn't it?" Casually, he begins to undress. "Just give me a few minutes to change back, won't you?" Though you have, of course, seen yourself naked in a mirror, you turn away from the spectacle of Steve Patterson undressing your own form. Not until he is completely naked do you look back, to find him laying back on the table and putting his hand to his face. His arm jerks and then slumps; his body distends; and then it is Patterson himself, clutching a mask, unconscious on the table. Caleb stares down at him, then catches your eye. "Well?" he mouths. "Come on!" "What?" "We can take him out now!" For half a second you are tempted. But then you shake your head and turn away. There's a horrible feeling in your stomach: the feeling that you are on the edge of a very great decision, which could go horribly wrong whichever way you turn. Maybe it's that feeling, and not moral courage or certitude, that keeps you from lifting a finger against Patterson in his vulnerable state. But whatever the reason, you stay your hand, and a few minutes later Patterson raises his head with a groan. He looks briefly between you and Caleb, and then sits all the way up. "So, what did I miss?" he asks nonchalantly. Neither you nor Caleb reply, so he starts to carelessly pull some clothes out of the backpack. "Mind if I use your phone one more time, Prescott?" he says, and without hesitating he puts in a call. "Yeah, it's me," he says without preamble. "I'm out at that school. Come find me." "Who was that?" "Me," he says. "That mask you were gonna make of me? I made it myself and put it on one of your golem thingies. He kept my place warm while I was pretending to be you." He gives Caleb a meaningful glance. "Fooled you all day." "You guys can talk," Caleb says. "I need some fresh air." He stalks up the steps and out the door. You can't stop him, but you wish he hadn't gone, for it leaves you alone to deal with Patterson. "So, like I was asking, what are you going to do about us? Me and Caleb?" "Nothing," he says. "You can be on the team." "What team?" "My team," he says, as though it's the most obvious answer in the world. "Yeah, you guys can be junior partners." As answers go, it is a much better one than the you would have dared hoped for. But it still seems very bitter, maybe because-- "What if I don't want to be partners with you?" "Well, you're not keeping the book." "I don't mean that. I mean, what if I don't want to have anything to do with it? Yeah, you can have the book. Maybe it's got a curse on it. What if I just say 'Take it,' and leave me alone?" He stares, and then gives a quick bark of laughter. "Well then, I'll take it and leave you alone. I'm not gonna force you to do anything. Even though--" He hops off the table and pulls on his underwear and some long pants. "You don't really want to give it up, do you?" "I dunno. I mean, really, I don't," you say. "I see what it's like now, being on the receiving end." You find yourself licking your lips again. "I don't like it." "So be on the giving end." "Maybe I don't want to be on either end." "Suit yourself," he shrugs. "We should make it nice and legal, though." From his pocket he pulls out a few notes. "It cost you two dollars. I'll give you ... three ... for it." He extends the proffered bills. You hesitate a moment, and then snatch them from him. A sense of relief--though not unmixed with fear--settles over you. You are conscious that you are breathing very hard--and that Patterson is entirely cool and collected. And then your eye falls on the mask that he has been wearing for the last 24 hours. "What are you going to do with that?" You jerk your chin at it. "I'll sell it to you," he says. "Five hundred dollars." "I haven't got--!" "I know you haven't," he snorts. "I'm keeping it as insurance. You can have it back for nothing when you join the team." "I told you, I'm not joining--" "And I think you will. Because there's one more thing that I know that you don't." A cold hand plunges through your chest and to your heart. "What's that?" "You'll find out soon enough, I bet. It doesn't make any difference to me," he adds casually, "whether you join or not. But I know you--now--and I've got a pretty good idea of how you think. And when you find out what I know and you don't, you'll come find me." And with a parting smirk, he leaves you glowering in the basement. * * * * * After getting dressed, you go home, heart thumping at what you might find. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary--Robert is still being very stupid; your mother is fixing dinner; and your dad is late. But Patterson had extra masks, and he had some golems, and you can't help being paranoid about your family. Luckily, you soon remember that the golems are under your control and would have to do what you tell them to do. Never before have you been so relieved to find your brother, father and mother so recalcitrant and resistant to the admittedly outrageous demands you test out on them. So, you're feeling marginally better when you call up Caleb after supper. "So, where'd you head off after you went to get that fresh air?" you ask him. "What are you talking about?" he asks. "This afternoon, at the clubhouse, after Patterson changed back. You're not still pissed at me because I wouldn't go along with golemizing him, are you?" The line seems to go dead for a bit. And when Caleb comes back on, his voice sounds strained. "The fuck are you talking about? I haven't seen you since fifth period. Which reminds me, are we still on for sending a golem of me to school tomorrow?" Now it's your turn to be confused. The conversation goes around and around, tediously, for a bit, until it is clear that-- "You weren't out at the clubhouse this afternoon, were you?" you ask in a sinking whisper. "When we met Patterson." "That's what I keep trying to figure out, shit-for-brains," he retorts. "I haven't seen you since fifth period, when we made that mask of me! You remember, in case I wanted to send a fake me to school tomorrow while we figured out what to do about Patterson!" You bury your head in the clothes on your bed. "That wasn't me," you say quietly, and give a full recital of the day's events from your point of view. Then it is Caleb's turn to tell you about his day. "It was a fake you at the clubhouse," you say. "He was using it to try to trap me, trick me into attacking him, so he could--" "So he could trap you," Caleb says grimly. "God damn it, we have to do something about him!" "No, that's just what he's expecting us to do," you reply, remembering Patterson's parting words. "He knew I'd find out--" Of course you'd find out--and then you'd be so paranoid you'd run back to him, saying you wanted to join his team, so that you could keep an eye on him. Next: "The Game" |
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