> “Rita was not stupid. She knew it was a con. But she wanted to see how clever a con the girl had conjured.”

“Beatrice, is that really you?”

I repeated her name again, not quite believing what I was seeing, but she just stared at me, her eyes sharp as icicles. Finally, another jab hit my midsection, and I lurched awake, my former mentor gone. In her place was the punk-ass girl who had been tormenting me for 24 straight hours, the neck of an open bottle of beer in between her fingers.

“What do you want?” I said, taking a big sip of the now watered-down coffee.

“Just want to talk, feel like I got us off on the wrong foot, what with sending you into the Vultures’ alley and then acting like a total git after Dalia went off script.”

“Does she do that a lot?” I asked. My three interactions with her thus far had not been overly pleasant.

The first had been at the Met lecture. I hadn’t actually spoken to her that night, but I now surmised it wasn’t a coincidence that she and Gilbert had been there when we had stolen the vervorium doorknobs. The second had been at the Guild summons. Beatrice and I had walked into that conference room in midtown not knowing what or who to expect. She had seemed pleasant enough until she had threatened us with one of the long-lost Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom. And now she had upended everything again.

“Buggered if I know,” said Emma. “She’s barely been at the Guild meetings I’ve been at, save for the last two. You must bring out something in her.”

“What do you mean?”

Emma took a swig of beer and I was about to chide her for drinking at this early hour, but held my tongue.

“Can’t remember the last time there was a full meeting of the Guild called. But a month ago, we get a message in the middle of the night, telling us to report to the Hall with our gold tokens to boot, for a full accounting.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Then we get word that there’s been a new member that’s come forward. ‘Cept it’s not for one of the current seats, it’s the fabled long-lost Third Seat of the Breuckelen Table.”

“Don’t you mean Brooklyn?” I interjected.

“No, it’s pronounced ‘Breuckelen.’ The original Dutch settlement in what’s now Brooklyn. The Tables represent the settlements where the founding Guild members were from. Pavonia, my Table, that was the original name for Jersey City and Hoboken. Orange is up near Albany. And obviously New Amsterdam was on Manhattan Island.”

“So your family has been in the Guild this whole time?”

“Not exactly. Anyway, I looked at your notes after you ran away. Seems like you have some good ideas about how we’re going to pull this off. I want to hear more about these cover identities. I assume yours will involve that glamour you’ve got hiding under there?”

“What?” I said, instinctively looking down at the chain around my neck.

“I heard Zoe rambling about it while I was hiding in the garage, waiting for the right moment to emerge. Also, it’s fairly obvious. I can feel the weight of it pressing down on you.”

“Oh,” I replied. “Umm, yeah, I guess that will be part of it. Hadn’t thought it all the way through yet. And what do you mean you can ‘feel’ it?”

“With these,” Emma said, holding up her left hand, which sported a set of silver rings. “They’re made of druithyl. Acts like a metal detector of sorts. Whenever there is alchemy nearby, they vibrate and then change colors to indicate the type of alchemy present. Definitely going to need them to avoid any traps in the library.”

“Gotcha, and the rings on your other hand have auragen that is linked to White Hilt. That’s how you were able to pull it out of Zoe’s hand.”

Emma smiled.

“Exactly. That wasn’t what they were originally intended for. It’s really a throwing knife, despite its size. With the rings, I can retrieve it in the middle of a fight. Let me ask you something though. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like?”

“When you have the glamour on.”

“Oh,” I said. It was disconcerting, having people think that my real body was actually the glamour. Maybe this is what Ty had meant when she said not to activate the stone so much. Maybe that is why “Jade” had somehow emerged and taken control of the glamour. But these were questions for another time, and I promised myself to take off the stone as soon as possible.

“It’s, it’s like wearing a heavy blanket at first. You feel like you’re dressed up as a ghost and that it’s so obvious that the illusion is fake. But then, over time, it becomes a form-fitting costume and then eventually a second skin and now I don’t even really notice it anymore.”

Emma was hanging on my every word, and I was glad for once to be the one who didn’t know what the heck they were talking about.

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“So, is it…”

“What?

“A guy or a girl?”

“A girl,” I said. “It’s nothing crazy, if that’s what you’re thinking. She looks like a normal twenty-something with brown hair.”

“Perfect,” Emma suddenly grabbed my hand and stared deep into my eyes. “I love a brunette.”

“I … I don’t even … what?” The words stumbled out of my mouth, and I wrenched free from Emma’s grip and jumped up from the barstool.

“Ha, just messing with you. Don’t be such a prude. Seriously though, can you show me her?”

“Now?” I asked, looking around the car and finding it empty except for the distracted cafe worker. The last thing I wanted was Emma’s rings to go silent when the glamour deactivated and her to realize the truth about me. I didn’t know what repercussions that would have with the Guild and didn’t want to find out.

“You don’t have to,” said Emma, sensing my hesitation. “We can wait until later when no one will-”

“No, it’s fine. Just … try not to yell. And I’m only activating it for a second.”

I pulled up the hood on my sweatshirt to cover Jade’s bright red hair, hoisted up the chain of the glamour necklace, and squeezed the green stone. Nothing happened. I squeezed it a second time, muttering under my breath, but still, Jade’s grip on my body would not let up.

“Something wrong?” asked Emma.

“Maybe, usually it activates no problem. Let me try another way.”

I grabbed the glamour again with one hand, pretending to activate it, and at the same time reached behind my neck to undo the clasp. After a minute of blind fidgeting, I finally freed the other end of the chain, and the stone fell down into the confines of my sweatshirt.

But when I looked down at my hands, they were still covered in freckles and the strands of the hair I had tucked into my hoodie were still red. It was then that I felt her take control again, just for a second, to curl my … well, her mouth into a smile.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I said, pushing back against the glamour and suppressing the urge to scream. “Damn thing won’t work.”

I reached down under my sweatshirt and retrieved the stone, reattaching it around my neck.

“Hmm,” said Emma, looking around the confines of the car. “Might be the work of a nullifier.”

“A what?”

“An alchemy nullifier. Deprotium, more specifically. Stops all alchemy within a certain range from working for a set period of time. It’s used as a defense mechanism usually. Maybe another journeyman is also on this train.”

“And a journeyman is …”

“It’s what we call the high-level Questers who aren’t in the Guild,” said Emma.

“Oh,” I said. “But your rings are still working, aren’t they? And that Mary Poppins bag of yours?”

“You have a lot to learn, Jade. A week in the Guild library would go a long way, if they ever let you in there. Auragen and vervorium are in the class of persistent prima materia. They’re ‘always on,’ for lack of a better word. Whatever powers your glamour, powerful as it might be, still needs to be activated, and the nullifier stops that.”

“I see. Well, if I can’t get it working, we’ll need to adjust the plan. The robes will become more important.”

“Agreed,” said Emma. “And my bag.”

“What about it?”

“You’ll see,” she said with a wink while downing the rest of her beer. “I’m gonna go back and take a little nap. Want to have a productive afternoon after lunch.”

“Fine,” I said. “Wait.”

Emma turned around and gave me a quizzical look.

“What?” she asked.

“Were you there?” I said, my voice trembling slightly, nearly holding back the question I had been waiting all day to ask.

“Was I where?” she replied.

“Were you there,” I repeated, “when they stabbed Steve with your knife?”

Emma swallowed and blinked several times before answering.

“Yes,” she said, blankly. “And I was the one who did it.”

* * *

Everyone wears a mask.

It’s the makeup we apply, the outfits and accessories we carefully assemble, the hair we crimp. It’s in the way we talk, the stories we embellish, the histories we retroactively edit.

We hold tight to that mask, because it’s the only thing protecting that tiny piece of yourself that you keep deep down in the recesses of your mind that you’re afraid to reveal it to anyone.

I’ve worn that mask. I pretended to fit in with Lisa and Stacy. It was painful at first, but I got good at playing the part. Then the same thing again with Duncan. But mine was different. Because it wasn’t guarding that last sliver I was too scared to share with them, lest they judge me or reject me or shun me altogether. No, what I was hiding was that it wasn’t there at all. I had spent years trying to convince myself otherwise. That I was too damaged, too broken by my mother’s death, to have anything left inside.

And now, the mask I wore was someone else entirely.

I stared up at the ceiling from the enormous bed that took up most of the posh hotel room and pulled out the glamour. My fingers turned red as I squeezed it over and over, with the same result as before. After the 20th time, I finally broke down and began sobbing into one of the decorative pillows.

“Give me my body back,” I whispered, baiting whatever Jade was to take control again and explain herself. But she refused the call.

“Have it your way then,” I said out loud.

I pulled out my phone, opened my contacts, scrolled down to the name I was looking for, and before I could convince myself otherwise, started a video call.

“Pick up, damn it,” I muttered to myself in that raspy voice that I hated more and more each time I opened my mouth. I held the phone out in front of her face, her green eyes staring back up at me. Finally, after the seventh ring, a chime went off, and a girl appeared on the screen.

“Jen, is that you?” said Ty Anzio.

“Of course it is,” I said. “Who else would it be? You’re the one who gave me this.”

I pulled the chain up over my head again and held out the stone in front of me. It swayed back and forth, as if the gem was trying to hypnotize me, and I closed my hand around it and chucked it across the bed.

“What did you do?” said Ty, her eyes wide.

The audio crackled and from what I could see behind Ty, it looked like she was in a crowded school cafeteria. The long, brown hair she had sported during our prior encounters was gone, one side of her head now shorn down to a buzz-cut and the other featuring tapered layers of black hair. It made her look like a goth kid who was trying too hard.

“Where are you?” I asked, ignoring her question. “And what happened to your hair?”

“Oh, you like?” said Ty, tucking the black strands behind her right ear. “Seeing if it will catch on with the seniors.”

“Wait, you’re actually still in high school? I thought you were just dressing the part.”

“I come and go as I please,” she answered. “No one really pays attention to me here, so it suits me. But back to you. You ignored my warning, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” I said. “What exactly is happening to me?”

I didn’t want to admit what else Jade had done, and frankly, I was ready to return the blasted stone to Ty in an instant and deal with the repercussions if it meant getting my body back.

“Do you know what a glamour is?” Ty asked.

“I … it’s … it’s an alchemy-based illusion. It projects the image and sound of a person.”

“That’s what it does,” she answered. “Not what it is. There is a difference. And it explains everything.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense here. It’s not like I’ve been possessed by a body snatcher.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what’s happened, Jen. Because that glamour I gave you? It’s not a stone, it’s a person.”