Chapter #43Going Alloway: Friday by: Masktrix   Dalton Reeves. The last prefect on your list of suspects. A little obvious, maybe, but an easy role for Niamh to fake throughout Monday. All she had to do was march around, barking like a Doberman, so it's not like she needed his memories to fake her way through. Also, he didn't have to arrange a ride back to Saratoga Falls, but he did anyway. It would have been a Niamh move, regardless of who was stuck at the school.
So even though it's still only early evening, you text his name to Shelly. You close your eyes as Adam Edwards steers his car toward the highway.
The reply comes just as you hit Saratoga Falls.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! WINNER WINNER!!!!! YOU ARE SO FREAKIN’ AWESOME!!!!!
The phone lights up in a cascade of celebratory emojis, gifs and icons. You laugh at the glow from your cell, even as Adam focuses on the road ahead.
Don’t tell Niamh, you text back quickly. I’ll surprise her tomorrow.
***
“Hey Dalton, you got a minute?” you manage to catch him in the corridor shortly before chapel, herding the lower forms like a sheep dog.
“Not really, Alloway. I said last night wasn’t a big deal.” He keeps his eyes on his charges.
“Not about that,” you say. “It’s about Loki. I think he’s high or something.”
Dalton pauses and looks at you.
“He just started calling me ‘Niamh’. I mean, I get I hang out with her, but we’re not exactly identical twins.”
“Probably nothing,” Dalton says. “Loki’s a space cadet at the best of times.”
“It’s more than that,” you push. “He’s been kooky all week, I’m really worried about him. C’mon.” You know Niamh knows her friend lusts for Loki, so it’s easy enough to convince Dalton to follow you into the formal dining hall. You let him step in, and then close the heavy wood door. It’s a fancy space, with thick carpet, wainscoting and oil paintings. The window is even stained glass.
“All right, Alloway. Make this quick. What’s up with Loki?” Dalton’s arms are folded. You grin.
“Nothing,” you reply chirpily. “Although Mariah barely stops thinking about him. I just needed you in private to tell you I texted your name to Shelly last night.”
You’re expecting Niamh’s smile to burst from Dalton’s semi-scowl. But it doesn’t. Does she not get the game is over?
“It’s over, Niamh. I’m Will. I’ve won.”
Dalton shakes his head in incomprehension. “No. No, this isn’t― No, Will.”
“’Fraid so!” you laugh, skipping forward. “Mariah was perfect. Cut straight through the school groups. Of course, your crackdown made everything harder than it had to be. Do you know what an ass grind it’s been trying to investigate boarders when I have to take the Bus of Shame?” You flick your hair and stride seductively over, cupping one of your breasts. “But, yesterday evening, it all clicked into place.”
You get up on tiptoes and plant a kiss on Dalton’s lips. It’s like kissing worms desperately wiggling free. His much stronger arms push you away.
“Oh God no! That’s like snogging my sister!” Dalton’s face looks like he’s swallowed a lemon. But if you want to laugh, the glare coming from his eyes makes you catch yourself.
"Niamh? It's only a game."
"No, it's wrong! That's what it is, Will!" His voice, normally a lusty baritone, rises to a girlish shriek. "I mean, Jesus! Mariah? My best friend? No! Verboten! Banned! Why the hell did you pick her?"
“She wasn’t against the rules,” you say.
“Some things are implied!” Dalton looks away, pacing a little. “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid!”
“Don’t be a sore loser. You should have got me on Wednesday. Since when does Mariah know anything about astrophysics? I had to resist feeding you all the baloney popping into her brain. And―”
“Not what I mean, Will Prescott!” Dalton’s most furious prefect scowl is in evidence. “You had eighty people to choose from, and you chose my best friend in the world! When did you replace her? I left her in the games room, and she was down by the coffee machine for― Oh my God! You were her in the car, weren’t you! That’s why she was late picking me up! When she asked me about Will, it was you, pestering me to describe yourself!”
“It’s what she would have done,” you say. “I was in character. I didn’t mean to cross the line.”
“Cross the line? Cross the line? You can’t even see the line anymore! There are five people in this world I care about, Will: my mam, my da, my sister, Shelly and Mariah. You turned one of them to stone and replaced her with a goblin, then stole the face of another!”
You try and speak, but words evaporate in your throat. It’s true. You probably shouldn’t mention her sister Tina was also a victim of the masks, when Shelly rushed off to create your fictional Ruth.
“Nothing?” Dalton’s eyes are dewy with tears. The word wounds as much as she is wounded. “You’ve got nothing to say for yourself? Don’t you get it? You stole Mariah’s life like you stole my life – and I’m the one that made you do it! I can’t believe I thought this game was a good idea! I can’t believe how easily you corrupted me! I’m just another victim of your stupid, hell-cursed book, aren’t I?”
“Niamh. Please…”
“NO. No, you don’t get to speak to me with that voice. Not as her. Not as Mariah. Not as anyone else, either. Never again. You ever come to me as another living soul and I find out, I’ll have you, Will Prescott! You get her face off this instant! Pull your fake out of school and swap back this morning, or so help me I’ll…”
“How! He’ll be starting lessons soon!”
“I don’t care if you get suspended!” There’s a pause. A deep breath. Dalton’s voice grows ominously quiet. “You know what, I don’t actually care what happens to you, full stop. You just put Mariah back now and beat it.”
You just nod. “We still need to work together to rescue Shelly―”
“STOP PRETENDING YOU CARE ABOUT HER!” Dalton’s yell makes the room shake. She glances at the door, suddenly nervous, and lowers her tone in case another prefect comes to back her up. “You’ve known her for what, a few weeks? I’ve watched her grow from a skippin’, skiddy little girl. Stop using Shelly to manipulate me! My advice? You gather your stupid masks, all your little fake faces and stolen memories, and you destroy them. And you get out of our lives for good.”
You look at Dalton’s face and Niamh’s soul. You’ve never seen someone mean every word quite so much.
“I was just trying to—”
“Get your kicks? Well, you got ‘em. I’m done with you. I’m taking the book. I’m going to undo the damage you’ve wrought, and once Shelly’s back that evil fucking tome is getting the Mount Doom treatment. Stay the fuck away from Mariah’s life. Stay the fuck away from Shelly’s life. And, especially, stay the fuck away from my life.”
You fall silent. Then Niamh gestures to her disguised appearance. “I’ve got to go catch and release this martinet prick. So help me, Will Prescott, if I’m not back gossiping with the genuine Mariah Alloway by first break, I will hunt you down for the rest of your days, and it won’t matter whose face you’re wearing!”
You stand, anchored to the carpet, as the apparent Dalton Reeves storms out and Niamh Stirland exits your life.
***
It’s a dejected Will Prescott who pulls his doppelganger from school and returns Mariah to Xavier's. You won the game – and lost everything in the process. You hop in your truck, skip the rest of the school day and brood over your stupidity.
When school is out, you text Shelly to bring the masks over to your house; thirty minutes later, she turns up on her bicycle, backpack on. You usher her into the garage.
“Hey, Boss! I’m so glad it was you that won! I had to be totally impartial, obvs, but I was rooting for you all the way!” Shelly’s bouncing, delighted effervescence only makes the hurt more painful.
“Where’s the book?”
“Niamh came by earlier. She took it and told me not to say anything, but, well, it’s you. And you’re the boss! So, y’know, I kind of have to tell you if you ask.”
You turn Shelly around, open the backpack, and shove the Mariah mask inside with the other masks. “I want you to go and bury these. Deep, where they won’t be found. Don’t tell anyone where. Then, when you come back home—” you choke on the words, and spin the golem around to look it in the eye. “You’re going to go on with your life as if we’re just strangers at school. If your mom asks, say the project’s over. I won’t come around again.”
“Don’t say that, Will!” Shelly says, forcing you into a hug even before the words are out of her mouth. You close your eyes and squeeze.
“Goodbye, Shelly. From now on, you are to follow Niamh’s instructions as if they were my own. She’s your boss too. I hope she works out how to save… well, you. And tell her I—” you pause.
“Tell her what?”
You smile and gently push the golem away, resting your hands on her shoulders. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
Your days as a magician are over.  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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