Chapter #7The Return of Gordon Black by: Seuzz   "Look, if I'm gonna help, I have to see everything you do," you insist. "There might some clues we're overlooking.
Chelsea glowers at you.
"Alright, fine,” she says. “Now that I think about it, I think he kept that mask in here."
She crosses to an ancient-looking cabinet. She has to unlock it, and she pockets the key, you notice, after she’s opened it. From inside she takes an object that seems to glow with a blue light, and with obvious reluctance hands it to you. For lack of a better resting place, you set the open book (which you still have in your hands) atop the transformed Gordon.
It's a mask she's handed you, in shape and form like an old-fashioned tragedian's mask, though there are no eye-holes. It glints, and as you hold it up to the light you see that an image—like one of those 3D illusions—floats within its surface. As you tilt it this way and that, you come to recognize the features of Gordon Black inside it. Turning it over, you find that a strip of metal has been attached to the inner surface. Over that script, the name GORDON GERALD BLACK floats.
"Admiring your handiwork?" Chelsea says with no little asperity.
I'm gonna have to beat the shit out of Caleb, you think to yourself, for the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fit together.
You turn to pick up the book again, and as you do so a wind gust from one of the open windows flips a page over. You pause. It had been open to the spell that transformed Gordon; now it is open to the next page—the page that you couldn’t get the book to turn to last night.
You say nothing, though, and just push the book aside so you can lay the mask on Gordon's face.
The effect is instantaneous. Color washes over him, and his eyes snap open. They bore into the ceiling, then shift onto you. You draw back.
"Gordon!" Chelsea thrusts past you and falls onto him. "Oh, thank God!"
"The fuck is going on?" he groans. He puts a hand to his forehead and closes his eyes. "I thought—" His eyes snap open again, and he sits up with a glare. ”The fuck is the idea of— What did you do to me?” he growls at you.
"You did it to yourself!" Chelsea shouts. "You and your stupid, macho—"
But he pushes her away.
“All I know,” he says as he gets to his feet, “is that I'm going around the corner and this fucker steps out in front of me and shoves something into my face." He reaches for you, grabs you by the front of the shirt, and drags you close. His mouth is twisted up into a snarl.
Then he blinks and looks around. "How the fuck did I get up here?"
"Pookie, don't you remember?" Chelsea says. She lays a hand on the one he’s gripping you with. ”Last night, you were working out of that stupid book, and you set yourself on fire! You— you moron!"
"What are you talking about?” Gordon demands. Then he returns his glowering gaze to you. "First thing I'm gonna do,” he says, drawing back his fist, “is to punch this motherfucker through the motherfucking wall. And then—"
"Leave him alone!" Chelsea cries. "He fucking saved you!" To your immense surprise Gordon releases you. "Don't you remember anything?" She looks at you. "Is it amnesia?"
"It's not Gordon," you reply with a conviction that surprises even yourself. "It's the mask. Don't you see?” you continue as Chelsea frowns with confusion. “He doesn't remember anything since—" You lick your lips, though you're pretty sure of your deductions. "Since I made that mask of him. This isn’t Gordon,” you tell her. “Not the real one, not the one who set himself on fire last night. This is the copy of Gordon, the copy that's in the mask."
Chelsea’s eyes widen. "You mean Gordon is still—?"
"Masks!" Gordon exclaims, and his eyes go wide in horror. "Oh Jesus, I forgot! I was up here! And there was another guy and he looked just like me! He was pissed! He kept telling me to—" He swallows and touches his face. "To take my mask off."
"Oh God!" Chelsea claps a hand over her gaping mouth. "Shut up!"
Gordon's mouth snaps closed. A prickle goes down your spine as further deductions follow on the earlier ones.
First, he let you go at Chelsea's command. Now he's mute, again at her command. You creep close to him. He draws back, but otherwise doesn't react. You peer into his face. He flushes, but says nothing.
"Hand me the book," you order Chelsea, and after she gives it to you, you flip through it until you find the word you want. "Tell him to let me touch his face," you ask her, and after she complies you reach up to grasp Gordon by the brow. Three times you murmur the magic word you found in the book.
A mask comes free in your hand; Gordon turns back into a statue; and moments later he tips over and falls to the floor with a crash.
"Well, I'd say that confirms it," you tell Chelsea. “It didn’t fix Gordon, but at least you’ve got a back-up copy of him, so he won't be disappearing or anything. And he has to follow your orders, too,” you add.
You expect her start yelling again. But instead she tiptoes up to the statue and peers down at it. Then she gives the mask you’re holding a sidelong glance.
"I suppose that'll work," she says, and her eyes glint thoughtfully.
Somehow, that’s even worse than having her yell at you.
“Okay, look,” you tell her, “you're gonna have to give me everything you've got, all the stuff you made with this book, and all the stuff you used.” She thrusts a rebellious lower lip at you, but you're firm. "I have to figure this stuff out if I'm gonna have any chance of fixing Gordon, and I'm gonna have to get my hands dirty doing it."
For a moment you feel your will fencing with hers. But she quickly crumples, and with your help starts filling up a cardboard box with what she's got. Mostly it's little containers of powders and liquids; a convex mirror; and she exclaims a little when, down under some junk, she finds another mask, this one mostly white and with only a few patches of clear blue showing.
She insists on keeping the mask of Gordon, though, and you accede. "Just wait till I'm gone before letting him loose again, okay?" you ask as you turn to the door to the loft. "Oh, and you might tell him to start being nice to me.”
She stares back, then shrugs lightly.
Okay, you remind yourself as you scamper down the steps into the gym proper. Stay Chelsea’s good side. Because she's got an attack-gorilla under her control who can break your face.
* * * * *
You take the trove over to the old elementary school near your house. It closed its doors years and years ago, and part of it was turned into a community recreational center. But last year you found your way into the basement through an outside door. After rearranging its contents whimsically, you'd left it, putting a padlock of your own on the door. Now, on your return, you're grateful to see that your lock is still in place. Down inside the frigid, musty basement, with its heaps of dusty desks, broken book shelves, and other jumbled furniture, and with only the dirty, ground-level windows high up in the outside wall for light, you spread everything out, open the book, and start going systematically through it again.
Evening has begun to fall before you’re done, and you're completely exhausted, but it's been a productive day. You have made a new mask, entirely from scratch—a dull white thing that, according to the book, needs to be polished before it can be used. You also have several pots of a sealant and one of those mind-reading metal strips. You glower at the latter—unlike the metal strip that Caleb showed you, this one has runes etched into it. Once you have the mask polished, you can start assembling the final product. Another spell will attach the band to the inside of the mask, and that will let you copy a person inside and out. Then you'll be able to seal it and wear it, disguising you as that person.
And that, you figure, gives you mastery of everything that Caleb had mastered.
Left undone are the spells connected to Gordon's accident. But of course you don't have the hundred pounds of graveyard earth it calls for, and Chelsea said it took a week to make anyway. You also know better than to use that one spell to turn yourself into a statue. But the satirical thought comes that Caleb would make a good victim.
That just leaves the new spell, the one that opened after you set the book onto Gordon. You can't tell what it does—the page only gives ingredients and instructions. So as you lock up for the night, you wonder whether you should go through that spell tomorrow by yourself or prepare it in Chelsea's presence. On the one hand, your partnership with her seems like an unstable thing. But she has shown that she trusts you by letting you take all that stuff with you. That's fairly remarkable, considering what she thinks you tried doing to her boyfriend.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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