Chapter #35The Libra and the Stellae by: Seuzz   A shiver--like dozens of tiny spiders--passes up your broad, strong back. The detector is straining to point to you. You push the bead back, trying to get it to point to Frank's golem, but it steadfastly refuses to slide down that groove.
You lean forward, resting your elbow on the table and tentatively hold your hand in front of your face. You hold your breath. You snap your fingers.
Nothing.
You try again. Still nothing. You close your eyes and clear your mind and concentrate. "Come on, baby, light my fire," you murmur, and snap your fingers again. You open your eyes. Nothing.
"Stop flirting with me," Frank says.
"I wasn't--"
"I know exactly what you're trying to do," he says sourly. "And if I can't do my tricks, you can't do Joe's."
You make a sour face back, but he's right. If Joe's mask had any of his essentia in it, you'd have a little globe of light bouncing lightly on the tip of your thumb. But there's nothing there.
You take a deep, ragged breath. The disc is picking up essentia, and it's not coming from the mask. The only alternative is that it is coming from you.
It is coming from Will Prescott.
Your hand trembles as you reach for the phone. "We need to talk," you say when the person on the other end picks up.
* * * * *
It's cold and it's dark, and you're shivering hard, for Joe's light clothing is no protection against the autumnal air. But it's more than the chill. You're nervous. Maybe you're even scared. "Well?" you say.
Cara's expression is unreadable in the gloom, for you're sitting well away from any lights. The patio outside the municipal library is deserted except for the two of you, but you still keep your voice low. Her voice is similarly quiet. "Dude, it's definitely you," she says. She carefully balances the disc in the palm of one hand, and shoves the Joe Durras mask a little farther to the side. "It's not the mask, but I could have told you it wouldn't be."
"Still, we want to know for sure," you say.
"I want to know why you went running back to my house to put it on," she says.
"To snoop, obviously," you retort. "Same as you wanted to do when you suggested we swap."
Her face isn't so well hidden that you can't see her grimace. "If you think that's why I wanted to swap places with you, you weren't using my brain to full capacity. But what did you find while you were snooping?"
You snort in your turn. "Well, I figured out how come you and Frank were treating me like a criminal this afternoon. I don't know how come the Libra got sent to my dad, or how come I managed to find it at Arnholm's. Like I told you guys, it was just a coincidence."
"And like I just said, you weren't using my brain at full power. Coincidence," she sneers. "This is certainly a big data point. A very big data point."
"You wanna explain it to me?"
"Why don't you put my mask back on and explain it to yourself?"
"Because I wanna hear you explain it. It's no fun second-guessing you guys, even with that thing as a crutch." You jerk your chin at the mask.
"You're just scared of the answer," she says. "You want nightmares tonight?"
"No." You swallow. "But if I'm gonna have them anyway, I want to have nightmares about the truth."
She shifts her head, and you can tell she's looking at you very keenly. "Frank's misunderestimated you," she says. "He thinks you're just a cock up. A cock up who wants to get his cock up Chelsea Cooper. But you've got some stick in you--somewhere--if you're asking for truths that you think will frighten you."
"Thanks for the compliment. I think," you mutter.
She grunts. "So, did you call me right after playing around with this thing?" She brandishes the disc, and you nod. "Didn't try drawing up a chart for yourself?" You shake your head. "Then either you've got a negative IQ, or you really are frightened."
"Okay, that was an insult--"
"Alright, I don't know what was going through your head, so I'll stop it," she says. "And maybe the mask was throwing a powerful influence over you, because making charts of one's self is a very tricky business. Maybe you just sensed that it wouldn't be a useful thing to do." She pauses, perhaps to give you a chance to comment, but you keep silent. "I can bet what we'd find, though," she continues. "You're going to have to meet our dad at some point. Because you've got the mark of the Stellae on you."
You've only been out of Joe's mask for a little while, so you've enough of his memories to challenge this diagnosis. "Based on what, on this thing?" You point to the disc. "Because if it just reacts to essentia--"
"Everyone's got essentia," she says. "As you ought to remember. But there's different flavors and strengths, and yours is alchemically charged. You're tangled up with the planets."
You bite your lip. The planets. The wandering stars. The Stellae Errantes, from which Joe and Frank's secret society take their name. "You-- You're the sun and Mercury, right?"
"Arbol and Viritrilbia," she lightly corrects you. "Same as Frank is Lurga and Malacandra. We'd need to make a chart to tell you yours, but it's enough for now to know that you've got your own. Sulva or Eldibria, probably," she adds in a satirical tone. "There is something very wet about you." You let the comment pass, and maybe she has thought better of what she's said, for she falls briefly silent before repeating herself. "Yeah, you're definitely going to have to meet Dad."
You swallow. Is that what has frightened you? You have only a memory of a shadow of the personage Joe is referring to, but it's enough to loosen your bowels. You have the impression of something vast spreading itself and bending over you. Charles Brennon is very far away, but you wonder if you can't actually feel him--and if he can't feel you.
"And then there's the matter of the Libra," she muses. "You and the Libra."
"I wasn't lying about just finding it at Arnholm's," you say through gritted teeth, and you're aware that you sound both angry and scared.
"Sure, I can accept that," she says. "But there are no coincidences when things like the Libra and essentia are involved." She hesitates. "I'd rather talk to Frank before saying anything--"
"Just tell me," you insist. "I'm gonna put that thing back on again, you know." You nod at the mask. "And I'll have lots of time tonight to think about things."
"Oh, now you decide you're going to think about them," she says crossly. "Well, I guess I'm glad you didn't," she adds in a grumble. "So, sure, I'll tell you, and I'll tell Frank that I told you, and we'll all know that we all know, and won't that be a lot of fun knowing when we get back together--"
"Just tell me."
She sighs. "It's looking for you, dude," she says. "The Libra is looking for you."
You shake so hard you twitch. But she doesn't leave you with that bare thought.
"It was supposed to go to one place," she continues. "But it got itself redirected to Saratoga Falls, to Salopek, to your dad, so it could get to you. And when it couldn't get to you through him, it got itself sent to Arnholm's, and got you to pick it up. And when you gave it away, it fucked up Caleb and it fucked up Gordon so it could get itself back to you, and it still hasn't quite worked its way back, and so it's still fucking up people, like Cara--"
"Okay, that's enough!"
"Yeah, I think so too. You bring any smokes with you?"
You shake your head, and then remember that you'd grabbed a pack from Joe's room just before running out the door. It had felt like an instinct, and you don't remind "Cara" that she doesn't smoke as you hand it over. You haven't got a light, but she doesn't need one. She just shakes one of the cigarettes into her mouth, and a glow appears at its tip.
"Yeah," she says after she's blown a long stream of smoke into the night air. "It's not gonna let anything or anyone get between you and it, and I pity anyone who has it in their possession."
Her pause is very pregnant. "You've got it now, Joe," you say.
"And am I not suddenly very conscious of that fact," she says. "And am I not thinking very seriously about driving very carefully home and getting it and giving it to you."
"You're not serious," you gasp. "Our bargain-- You guys get the book, and we--"
"We undo the bargain," she says. "Frank and me go back to being ourselves, you get the Libra."
"You trust me with it?"
"Trust has nothing to do with it. Safety? Maybe."
"What about Chelsea?"
"I trust her."
That stops you dead. Chelsea is the one who's been using the book, and was fighting to keep it. But you don't ask about that. Instead: "Frank will never go for it."
She takes another long drag. "There's a way that will keep Frank from finding out, if he won't go along with it."
You ask what he's suggesting, and he explains. "That's as bad as-- As turning me into a golem!" you exclaim when he's done.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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