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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Defenestration of Cindy Vredenburg"  She shrieks as you duck and sweep her up onto your shoulder. She's strong, and she twists and fights, but as Jared you are stronger still. Your quivering burden causes you to wobble dangerously on the staircases, but you make it up to the attic workshop, which is where you throw her to the floor. She glares up at you with a blotched face. "Okay, you've got a choice," you tell her as you catch your breath. "You can spend the night in here, or you can spend the night in my room with me." "You know what this is, don't you?" she snarls. "Yeah, it's the old black magic called love. The way Aubrey explains it, you ask what you have, you ask what you want, and then you ask what will get you from one to the other. This is my spell for getting you show me a little affection." Her lips peel back and she raises claw-like hands, but then catches herself and seems to think better of whatever she was going to do or say. "So what do you want?" "You know perfectly well what I want, and I want it given willingly. Or, at least as willingly as is possible under the circumstances." Your smile is hard. "And if I refuse?" "Then you spend the night in here. And if you think that's preferable, let me tell you about our security system." "I know all about the gwarcheidwad." There's a tremble in her voice, and she is breathing hard. "It can be defeated," she says softly, more to herself than you, it sounds like. Then her eyes flash again. "If you'd just let me talk to Aubrey—" "There's no guarantee that what you'll tell him over the phone is the truth. I want you here when he gets back so he can question you directly. I don't know the tricks, but he has ways of getting the truth out of people." "You're going to keep me a prisoner until then? My family will miss me." "Maybe. Maybe not. There are ways of handling that, too." She stiffens noticeably. "So, where do you want to bed down?" She doesn't hesitate. "I'll take my chances in here." "This room isn't protected." "I said I'll take my chances." You shrug. "It's your funeral. Or, it would be if the security system ever left anything behind. I'll be up a little before midnight to see if you've changed your mind." You lock her in. * * * * * The guardian will enter the house at midnight; at five minutes till you go back upstairs. Lucy looks up at you from the floor of the workroom, which is now covered in a dense scrawl of chalk sigils. She sits in the middle, still adding to them. "Impressive," you say. You kneel and examine them. "Yeah, I'm not an expert yet, but these look good. I thought Aubrey said you weren't a witch." "I know a few things, as you can see. It's a bad idea to piss me off." "Girl, if your threats meant anything, you'd have acted on them by now. Come to bed with me. I promise I'll be gentle." "Fuck off." You sigh. "I really do hope I'll see you in the morning." You linger a bit to see if the goodnight message had its effect, then reluctantly lock her in. When you get to the bottom of the stairs you almost turn around to let her out. But you realize she wouldn't come out anyway; if she were willing to trust you to let her out of the house, she would have been willing to trust you in the bedroom. Too bad: actually, you're not sure you'd have done anything except give her the bed while you took the floor. Mostly she was just really pissing you off with that attitude, and you wanted her to acknowledge you as the legitimate authority in the house during Blackwell's absence. But Lucy was a stuck-up bitch even back in high school. * * * * * The gwarcheidwad is restless and noisy all night, and it wakes you several times. It scrambles up and down the hallway, rattling the knobs. It makes a tremendous ruckus downstairs by (from the sounds of it) tipping over the china cabinet. A little after two it wakes you by banging hard on your door. The roof creaks and groans, and at one point you raise your head to see the shadow of a thing with very long arms passing across your window. At four in the morning a scream tears through the house. You bolt out of bed. The gwarcheidwad hasn't got a voice. Either you dreamed it, or it found a way through the maze of sigils Lucy built to baffle it, and got to her. You listen closely. You hear only silence. Even the gwarcheidwad has gone quiet. That's a bad sign. You swallow and look at the clock. Five. Dawn is still quite a ways off. If you go out to check on Lucy you will be risking yourself, and probably for no good reason. If it got to her, you will be too late. If it hasn't, then there is no reason to go out. And if it was a dream, you'd be risking yourself for nothing. Still, it's hard to do nothing when you've heard a girl scream. * To check on Lucy: "The Path Through the Protective Maze" * To wait until dawn: "The Space Behind the Face" |
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