This choice: Show the notebook to your friends • Go Back...Chapter #34Old Notes and New Spells by: Seuzz   "It almost certainly belonged to the previous owner of the Libra," says Blackwell as he leafs carefully through the notebook. "Or should I say, the person previous to the previous owner of the Libra. As I was, technically, the previous own--"
"I get it. Jesus," you exclaim. "But how did it wind up at Eastman High School?"
"I've no idea." He lays the notebook down on the table with a smug smile.
It is Tuesday afternoon. You--still in the body of Alyssa Randal--are sitting in Blackwell's dining room. Caleb--for once, thankfully, unencumbered by Blackwell's form--sits at your right. And across the table is Gordon Black, leaning back and listening with a truculent expression on his face. So Keith got a hold of him without Steve's help. Good.
Caleb picks up the notebook and flips through it. "What do you know about this person?"
"Very little," Blackwell replies. "Her name was ... Drennon, if I recall correctly. She was in her eighties, and she lived in upstate New York."
"And you stole her stuff after she died," you say.
Blackwell's mouth curls into a sour smile. "I redirected some of her effects. You gentlemen would not now be enjoying the Libra and its gifts had I not."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing," you retort. "I'm just saying you stole it. How did you do that, again?"
"I redirected a box containing certain of her effects to Salopak Engineering. Once I knew it had arrived, I ... made my way inside and retrieved certain items from the package."
"The Libra?"
"Yes. One or two trinkets. It was a large box well packed with many items, and I didn't have much time. Once I had the book, I retreated."
"So someone at Salopak rifles through the box--probably after they found it open--and takes out a mask and this notebook," Caleb continues slowly. "And they take them to Eastman and hide them there. But who would do that?"
"I know a dude who works at Salopak," Gordon rumbles.
"Who?" You and Caleb simultaneously.
Gordon's lips disappear. "I don't remember," he says. "I just remember hearing that name, and some guy saying 'Yeah, I work there'." He flushes slightly.
Caleb shrugs. "Makes sense, I guess. I wanted to get a job there."
"You still want it?" you ask.
"Fuck you." He does a double take after saying it. "Yeah," he says more slowly. "Fuck you. Nice and slow and hot and--"
"Fuck you. With a broom handle."
"Will that be all, gentlemen?" Blackwell asks, and you let him retreat back into the library, where Caleb has it polishing a new mask.
That reminds you-- "You have some more masks for us?" you ask Tilley.
"Huh?" he says.
"Huh?" you mimic. "Masks. You got the most recent batch from our doubles, right? You must have, since you got Gordon there."
"Just Gordon," he mumbles. "The others aren't ready yet."
You and Caleb exchange exasperated glances. "Well, when they're ready, bring them out here," Caleb says.
"You finally got some prospects?" you ask him.
"Yeah, a fraternity brother, or something. Lives in a big house with a bunch of rich fucks. I'll use him to get a sorority girl."
"I thought you were talking about getting another professor."
"I am. And as soon as Tilley gets me a mask, I'll be inviting him over to dinner."
"Alright," Gordon grumbles. "I'll try to make 'em work faster."
"The faster you can get 'em to work, the sooner you'll get Chelsea."
That settled, you pluck the notebook from Caleb's fingers and flip through it idly. "We should probably find out who this stuff belongs to."
"It belongs to us," Caleb says.
"I mean who took it from Salopak," you snap back. "If someone out there isn't who they appear to be--"
"You think isn't the only stuff they made off with?" Caleb asks skeptically. "How could they know how to use it if they didn't have the Libra?"
"We don't know what else they got," you point out. "And it's weird that they hid it where they did. Like, they didn't just casually get rid of it. It seems like they wanted to keep it safe someplace."
"So why not keep it at their house?" Caleb asks, still sounding unimpressed.
"Depends on how much privacy they've got." You tug at your ear. "Well, in the meantime, I guess we could spend the afternoon deciphering the next spell. Unless Tilley has someplace he has to be?" you add with a trace of hope in your voice.
"I got no place to go," he grumbles. "You look like you've got a busy social life, though."
"I told my friends I had a date," you sniff. Actually, Patterson is probably at his house.
* * * * *
Even though the Drennon notebook refers to the next spell ("Chameleon") as a single spell, it proves to be three small spells that piece together. The first makes up a kind of sealant, which you test out by applying to the interior of the Aubrey Blackwell mask. This new layer leaves the mask looking blank; even the mind band it contains has been effaced. The next spell simply requires that you imprint a new image into the altered mask; as Caleb has been pretending to be Blackwell, you use his image. Finally, a third spell shows how to operate the new mask. By folding your fingers in a complex way and waving them across your brow, you can shift between the images.
"Well, it's convenient not having to take the mask on and off," Caleb says. He fumbles desperately at his forehead, trying to shift back into his form from Blackwell's before his shirt tears asunder. "But I'd still have to change clothes." He finally succeeds in restoring himself.
"Yeah, that little trick could be really useful," Gordon says, his eyes gleaming.
"Well here, put some inside Gordon's mask." You push the pot of the new sealant toward him.
But he flinches from it. "Not right now," he says. "Maybe later." Then with a quick motion he snatches it up. "Yeah, later. No one here worth copying. Except that girl you're pretending to be, Prescott. Can this stuff copy what's inside a mask?"
"I don't think so." You pore over the sigils for a few moments. "No, it looks like it just copies bodies."
"Does it copy minds?" Caleb asks.
"I don't think so." Again you look through the sigils, but wind up making an experiment of it: You exchange Alyssa's mask for the Blackwell/Caleb hybrid. "Nope," you report after switching over into Caleb's form. You study your hands. "Got the body, which ain't much to boast of. But the brain?"
"Which is my main selling point," Caleb grins
You ignore the boast. "We'll just have to remember to put mind bands into each layer."
* * * * *
It's nearly eight o'clock by this point, so you change back into Alyssa, and you and your friends part for the night. Each of you takes a small pot of the new sealant along with an extra mind band. You also take the blank mask that you'd found at Eastman. You'd offered to give it to Caleb in exchange for one of the two masks he is set to procure in a day or two, but he'd waved the offer away as unnecessary.
As you drive back home, you check all the texts you'd been ignoring on your phone. Most are short and uninteresting, but you nearly run a red light at one from Mandy: "Lawrence is taking bets on how soon before Patterson cheats on you."
The hell? You're not even officially going together. You're not even sure you want to put Patterson and Alyssa together: you'd been planning to let Patterson roam free, so you could bag girls when you felt like it. You'd only gone along with Alyssa's plan to corral and tame him because that's the impression she'd been giving.
But now you find yourself drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. Alyssa has an enormous amount of prestige, and it would not be good for her to be seen at failing so publicly and spectacularly at a self-set goal. But it's not a self-set goal, so why the fuck is Lawrence Farmer, who is Alyssa's chief rival as a purveyor of gossip and influence, so set on--
Lisa. Your lips draw back as you hiss the name to yourself. She said she would clear the way for you by telling everyone that Patterson was off-limits. You knew there was something sneaky about what she was saying. Now you see it: What better way to set you up for a very public failure while pretending that she was actually trying to help you succeed?
Almost involuntarily, your hand darts out to caress the blank mask and the jar of chameleon sealant in the passenger seat. You can certainly fix her wagon if you want to.
But the spasm of anger quickly recedes, even if it doesn't completely disappear. Focus, Will, you tell yourself. You're not really Alyssa Randal. Does it matter so much if she suffers this kind of setback, especially since you can repair it any time you wish? You need to concentrate on securing your various berths at Eastman. The first step there is getting Ian Carpenter, the basketball captain, onto your team.
Beyond that, there is the small matter of the mystery box, and how it got to Eastman.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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