Moving to Pennsylvania right before seventh grade had seemed like the end of the world to Augusta. Leaving all her friends, all the places she knew...and she'd had no choice at all in the matter. Still, as dramatic as life is to a newly-teenaged girl, Augusta was at least moderately practical, and tried to find bright spots. The fact that instead of junior high and senior high, they had "middle school" and "high school" here was one example. Middle school was grades 6-7-8, so it meant she wasn't both a freshman and a new student at the same time, she would at least start one rung up on the school's status ladder.
But the bookish girl had never been very good at making friends...in North Dakota she'd had the same ones she'd grown up with for years, so the skill had never really developed. And her differences made her stand out, but without making her exotic...her accent apparently sounded "derpy", "pop" was "soda" here, her fashion sense was widely agreed to be "tragic"... After her early tentative overtures had been met only with derisive mockery, she'd retreated into herself, tried to become as invisible as she could. Which was depressingly effective, as it turned out, though she continued to endure casual verbal abuse from one girl in particular.
Viola wasn't one of those perfect, pretty girls, who picked on others because they'd never for one second felt what it was like to start life without a guaranteed winning hand. Unlike Augusta's brutally average looks, Viola had pretty bad acne that stood out even over her smears of ginger freckles, her nose was a bit too big for her face, she had a crooked front tooth but no sign of braces, she was short but more stocky than cute. Despite all that, she was a cheerleader, she was class vice-president, and she was firmly embedded in the popular crowd. Viola had a quick wit, a sharp tongue, and ambition and she'd made the most of all of them. Not that there was any obvious advantage to be gained in cutting down Augusta. Maybe she just did it to stay in practice.
Augusta began to spend most of her free time in the library. In books, she could imagine herself to be anyone, anywhere, and Viola never came here. Her favorite time was lunch, when no one really came here. Thus it startled her quite badly when someone spoke, behind her.
"Holly Black, eh?" Augusta jumped and whipped her head around. The voice had come from Stuart Middle School's lone goth kid...she couldn't remember if she'd ever learned his real name. But she knew he called himself Shadow, and the school's outsized jerk population instead called him Eyeshadow, or Mascara.
"What? Oh, yeah," she said uncertainly as he nodded at her book and took a seat next to her.
"Better than a lot of fantasy dreck," he said, "but still pretty unrealistic." Augusta raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it is fantasy...how realistic could it be?" The boy shrugged.
"You'd be surprised." He let this confusing declaration hang for a bit, then continued. "Seeing as how we're fellow outcasts, I thought introductions were in order. I'm Shadow, and you're Augusta, so there, that's taken care of." After Augusta recovered from this odd social side-step, she gave a little smile.
"You can call me Goose, if you'd like?" she offered hesitantly. He looked confused, and she continued, "It was a nickname back home, 'Golden Goose'? Because it sounds like that if you pronounce Augusta the german way, 'Oh-goos-ta', and the a-u at the beginning is the symbol for gold..." she trailed off lamely...as usual, she'd tried too hard and made things weird. But the boy just nodded.
"Makes sense. Goose it is," he said with a smile. Augusta almost choked up, hearing someone call her 'Goose'...it was like she was back home with friends again. Embarrassed, she lowered her face and stared at her book awkwardly. "Anyway," Shadow continued, "now that the formalities are out of the way, are you interested in helping give Cheerleader Cheney some payback?" It took a moment for Augusta to parse the reference and figure out he was talking about Viola, which was enough to distract her from her embarrassment.
"Cheerleader Cheney, huh? I've never heard that one," she noted, smiling. Shadow examined his black fingernails in feigned modesty.
"I try. Hasn't caught on yet."
"I'd help, but I'm trying to be Switzerland here, or better yet some tiny former-Soviet republic she can't even spell, let alone remember exists. But good luck to you." His long black bangs waved slightly as the boy shook his head.
"Thanks. But that's not what I wanted help with. I was thinking something more like that," he said, nodding again at her book.
"Faeries?"
"Er, no. But magic, yes." Augusta looked uncomfortable.
"Ah. Well, I don't really believe in that stuff. I wish there was real magic, but life doesn't work that way." The pale boy looked at her for a moment, then shrugged.
"Tell you what." He took a square of note paper and nubby pencil from the cubby in the center of the table and jotted something down while he continued, "If I can at least make you curious, you agree to at least hear me out. Deal?" Augusta shrugged.
"Sure," she said, already curious, but not about to admit that.
"Okay, watch my eyes closely," he said, leaning forward.
"You going to hypnotize me?" she joked, but did as he asked. His eyes were green, and pretty...he definitely knew how to use eyeliner.
"No, just look. As close as you can. No contacts, right?" Augusta leaned forward until her glasses almost bumped his nose, closing her own eyes one at a time to avoid seeing double. Her heart involuntarily sped up a bit at their proximity...she'd never been this close to a boy, even if he did wear more makeup than she did. But squinting carefully, she was pretty sure his eye color was natural, and said as much. "Okay...now don't blink."
He deliberately squeezed his own eyes shut, then opened them. They were brown. Not hazel, not almost-brown-green, but as brown as her own. Before she could say anything, Shadow shut his eyes again, and when he opened them, they were a bright blue. Again, now violet. More blinks...yellow, white, black, red. He gave one last blink, and his eyes had returned to their original green.
"What...how...what?" the girl sputtered. But Shadow only grinned and pushed the square of paper over to her, then stood up, tipped an imaginary hat, and strolled out.
The paper had an address and phone number, and below it, "If you're honest, I'll see you tonight at 11:45. Nice to meet you, Goose."
---
Augusta thrust her hands deeper into her jacket pockets and looked around nervously. The small parking lot was empty, and unlit...she could only see at all from the bright lights of the convenience store a hundred yards or so down the road. The little building seemed to have at one time been a VCR repair shop, but from the looks of the exterior, it hadn't been used in years. Still, the doors were locked, and there was no sign of Shadow.
She still couldn't quite believe she was standing here. She'd never once gone anywhere without letting her parents know, and now she'd snuck out in the middle of the night. To meet a boy! Who thought magic was real. Just thinking about it was almost enough to send her running home, but he'd pegged her exactly...she was curious, and she was sure if she left now she'd regret it forever.
The girl walked around the building, stepping gingerly to avoid holes in the crumbling asphalt as well as discarded beer cans and other trash. The building had a rear door, which was also locked, but there was an extendable access ladder to the roof next to it, which had been unlatched and pulled down for use. Stuck to one rung was a post-it note, which read, "Climb me." Above it, "Eat me" and "Drink me" were crossed out.
She hesitated for one last moment, but realized there was no way she could walk away now, and climbed up. There were two people present, and a great many lit candles. The tiny flames surrounded and illuminated various complicated chalk diagrams drawn on the black tarred surface of the roof. Augusta wasn't sure for a moment, as the figure in the larger diagram wore a sort of white robe with additional symbols on it in various places, but he turned as she stepped onto the roof, and the eye makeup said it was definitely Shadow. The other figure, standing in a smaller triangle, looked like the goth version of Prince Charming, early twenties, devastatingly tall and handsome, but wearing a black uniform with red trim.
"Augusta," said the prince in a low purr. "Please, join us?" Augusta was frozen to the spot, trying to figure out what she was seeing...did this guy run some creepy pagan goth cult or something? But when the boy waved her over, she found her legs reluctantly complying. Shadow gave her a warning look, then turned back to the other man.
"You still haven't explained why you're here and not the one I invoked," said the boy, his voice betraying mild concern.
"That one is but one of my many subjects," said the prince, "and I chose to come in his stead, for my own interests. I assure you I am far more capable."
"No kidding," said Shadow, tapping a book he held open in his lap. "You can really tell the future? Like, lottery numbers? And teleport people?" The prince smiled.
"Of course. Though such bargains shall need to wait for another time, as this summoning was for the expressed purpose of mischief against the person of one Viola Juliet Bryce?" Shadow's face fell a bit, but he shook it off.
"Summoning?" asked Augusta, unable to restrain herself further. "What are you supposed to be, a demon?" She couldn't keep the skeptical tone from her voice, and the man's ice blue eyes turned hard for a moment.
"I think the term 'spirit', as the Lesser Key," he waved a hand in the direction of Shadow's book, "names us, would be more polite in present company." He dismissed her and turned back to Shadow. "So, what is it to be?" The boy scrunched up his face in thought, then looked at Augusta and smiled broadly.
"Oh, this is perfect. Killer. Okay." He faced the prince again. "I want you to make Viola fall in love with Augusta," he said carefully, pointing a finger at her.
"What?!" Augusta screeched, as the prince nodded.
"It shall be done by the dawn. I look forward to your next call upon me..." he said, then disappeared, leaving behind an actual puff of red smoke.
"Oh, man, wow. What a lucky break," crowed Shadow, standing up and stepping out of the large circle he'd been sitting in, revealing a five-pointed star and additional odd lettering. Augusta was still staring at the smaller triangle where the man had been standing, then shook herself and strode over to it. She ignored the whiff of rotten-egg smell in the air and began tapping the roof with the toe of her shoe, then kneeling to use her hands.
"There's a trap door, right? Really, really impressive, I can't imagine why you went to all the trouble, but..." Shadow knelt down beside Augusta and gently lifted her chin so she faced him.
"No trap door, no tricks, remember?" he said, tapping a black-nailed finger next to one of his eyes. "Magic is real. And tomorrow at school, you'll know it. God, it's so perfect...even though her folks are fundies, some people already think Viola's a lesbo, and after all the trouble she's given you, everyone will think it's the obvious explanation!"
Augusta stood up abruptly, then moved quickly to the ladder. "Jesus...even if this was real, that's so totally not okay, but this is crazy, you're crazy...I'm going home and pretending none of this ever happened."
"Augusta...Goose! Wait!" But the girl ignored his calls and quickly descended the ladder. When she reached the parking lot, she took off and did not stop running until she'd snuck back into her house.
---
At first, it had just been bizarre, hilarious even. Viola's shift in behavior towards Augusta had been abrupt and severe. Nor, when questioned, would she admit any collusion with Shadow.
"Mascara? As if. Honestly, Goose, you need to work on your self esteem if you think me and Eyeshadow teaming up to mess with you is more likely than me just liking you because you're awesome," she'd said, with what seemed to be utter sincerity.
A week passed, and then two, and though she successfully avoided Shadow and tried to avoid Viola, the cheerleader's new attitude stayed as it was. And Augusta somehow found herself actually hanging out with Viola, because she felt bad, and because she found it surprisingly hard to reject someone who was so obviously crushing on her.
The next few weeks after that were a lot of fun. The whole school knew they were dating, which was weird and a bit exciting, and somehow 'lesbo' wasn't even an insult. Though she still found boys attractive too, it wasn't hard to see the advantages in the alternative, and for Augusta, any attraction was both novel and pragmatic. Being wanted somehow made up for pretty much anything.
But after they got written up by a teacher for kissing for too long in the hallway, things started to go completely wrong. Augusta's parents were very understanding, and didn't even care that it was with another girl. But they insisted that school was "for learning", and they needed to "exercise restraint". But the next day, Viola wasn't at school at all. Rumors said her parents were a lot more religious than anyone had thought, and they were completely freaking out. That Augusta couldn't find her online or get her to answer her phone only made things worse.
She worried so much that when, a couple days later, she got a call from Viola just before midnight, asking her to come over to her house, she went immediately and only paused to slip on shoes and throw a jacket over her pajamas before sneaking out. Viola sounded okay, but the message was so short, Augusta immediately started second-guessing herself as she walked over. Maybe her parents were more okay with it now...but maybe they were forcing Viola to swear off dating or gayness or whatever and wanted her to break up with her in front of them. Or they wanted to yell at both of them together? Or she just wanted to talk...but wouldn't coming over be riskier than just talking on the phone, if she had hers back now?
When she got to the house, Augusta knocked ever-so-softly at Viola's window, but there was no answer. She tried again, a bit louder, and was about to knock a third time when she nearly leaped out of her skin.
"Hey, Goose...you can use the front door," said Viola, standing at the corner of the house. She seemed completely relaxed and at ease, and was in her own yellow pajama bottoms and a pink cami, but without the benefit of Augusta's shoes or jacket.
"Jesus, Vi!" Augusta complained, clutching a hand to her chest. The other girl only chuckled. "Um. So...missed you at school and online," Augusta continued, cautiously.
"Yeah, I've been a bit 'tied up'," she said, and laughed again. "But I'm on top of things now, and everything's going to be perfect. Come on, I'll show you." She turned to lead the way back around the house to the front door, giving Augusta a good view of a collection of bruises on the backs of her upper arms. Hurrying to catch up, and looking more closely, she saw angry red welts around Viola's wrists as well.
"What happened to you? Are you okay?"
"Peachy," responded Viola blithely, as she closed the front door behind them. "My mom and dad were never much for the Internet, but I guess my crisis was motivation enough. They printed out some stuff about driving out demons...because obviously, I could only want to kiss a girl because of a demon, right?" She rolled her eyes, but Augusta felt her stomach twist. As the weeks went on, she'd somehow managed to completely separate that bizarre night from Viola's sudden change, despite how crazy it all was. Maybe because she hadn't wanted to question it.
"What did they..."
"Oh, you know," said Viola casually. "Tied me up, nearly drowned me in holy water, duct taped communion wafers to my head. Dad actually hit me with the bible once, though I think he just got carried away. Anyway, classic family stuff." She laughed, though it sounded forced and hollow.
"Vi, that's...God...you have to call somebody, that's like, abuse, you know?" Viola shook her head and smiled.
"No, it's all good. See, it made me realize what's important and what isn't. And then the solution to everything was obvious." She opened a door off the kitchen and began walking down a flight of stairs, and Augusta followed, a formless dread rising in her. When they reached the basement, Augusta just stared, trying to understand what she was seeing.
Viola's parents...or so Augusta assumed, never having met them...were in their pajamas, tied to a pair of folding chairs with a random assortment of twine, bungee cables and extension cords. It seemed haphazard at best, but the pair were struggling only weakly, their heads lolling on their chests.
"You can't...your parents...how?" stammered Augusta.
"I pretended they'd 'cured' me. Broke down in tears, praised Jesus, thanked them. We had a nice dinner to celebrate, and I slipped a whole bunch of mom's sleeping pills into their wine." Viola's voice lost a bit of its casual tone. "Here, hold these," she said, handing Augusta a small box she'd picked up. Matches. Meanwhile, she lifted a small gas can and began to splash the contents over her parents, the chairs, the floor beneath them...
"Stop, Viola, stop, what are you doing?!" Augusta demanded, dropping the matches and pulling at Viola's arm.
"They said we were going to burn in Hell, Augusta! Because we love each other!" Viola's calm mask completely fell away, and her eyes were full of tears and fury. "They are the ones who deserve to burn, because...because God is Love, and they're trying to wreck God, and fuck them!"
"But...but..." It seemed rather obvious to Augusta that burning people alive was not a rational way of defending the concept of universal Love, but somehow she couldn't think of any words to explain that in Viola's current state. The girl pulled away from Augusta.
"They can burn, and die, and then I'll inherit all their money and I can live with my aunt who is way nicer, and we can be together and everything will be fine." She returned to dousing everything in sight with gasoline.
Augusta looked around frantically, and picked up Viola's cell phone from where it sat on a nearby stack of boxes. She had to call...something. When there was an emergency, you dialed something, it was short and convenient. So you could get the police or fire department or an ambulance without knowing their numbers, why couldn't she remember...was it 611? No that was for if your phone didn't work, and it never worked anyway because if your phone didn't work...
Frantic and frustrated, she gave up and called Shadow instead, whose number she did somehow remember. But if all this was because of what he'd done, maybe he could stop it somehow, quickly...she wished she hadn't been avoiding him so successfully, and prayed he actually answered.
"Hello, Augusta!" answered a voice, but it was low and vibrated with cheerful menace.
"Who...where's Shadow?" Augusta heard a quiet chuckle, and faintly, in the background...screaming?
"Alas, Daniel can't talk on the phone right now...he's only just started a very long lesson on the topic of precision in speech. Not that he'd have been able to help you in any case."
"Oh, God, it's you, you're that de-...spirit, whatever. Please, please stop all this! Viola's going to burn her parents alive!"
"No...I think I shan't, that sounds lovely. But do enjoy what little time you have left together, with my best wishes." The phone beeped as the call ended.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God...this isn't happening..." But before Augusta could mount any sort of proper denial of reality, she saw Viola pick up the box of matches and strike one. She lunged forward and clutched at Viola's hand to try to keep her from dropping it. "No! Please, Vi, don't!"
"I have to do this!" shouted Viola as they struggled. "It's the only way I can be free to be with you! Everything will be fine, don't you see? I'm not stupid...I know something weird happened. I did like you from the beginning, but I could never admit that, I'd worked so hard to be accepted, so I gave you a hard time. But then suddenly, overnight, I just couldn't, and only you seemed to matter! Don't you see? It was God or an Angel or something, who opened me up to Love! So everything will be fine!"
Viola wrenched her hand away and flung the lit match towards her parents. Augusta lunged forwards desperately and batted the match away with one hand, but then couldn't stop herself and ran into the two adults tied into the chairs. They bowled over backwards and she landed atop them in a heap. The match flew back far enough to not land directly on anyone, but it didn't quite clear the part of the floor that was doused with gasoline, and a line of flames quickly shot across the basement, separating Viola and the stairs from everyone else.
"Augusta, no!" screamed Viola desperately, and moved forward to try to help her, heedless of the flames, but stopped short as Augusta yelled and waved her hands.
"Stop, Vi! You've got gas all over you! Here!" She tossed Viola's cell phone to her underhanded. "Call...call...ugh! Get out of the basement and call the fire department. It's the only way to...to save me!" For a moment it seemed like the girl would brave the flames anyway, but after a last desperate plea of, "If you love me, go! Please!" from Augusta, Viola spun and sprinted up the stairs and out onto the front lawn. Flames and smoke were already visible from the basement windows.
Her fingers shook over the phone, trying to do as her girlfriend had begged. But what was the fire department's number? Wasn't there some easy way to call them? Something short? But she just couldn't think of it somehow. Tears of panic and frustration streaming down her face, she ran across the street to beg for help...it wasn't as close as the neighbors, but it was the first thing she saw. But before she got to the door, she started to hear the screams, and turned around in horror.
Viola knew it was too late, they were burning and she'd done it, she was killing Augusta, she was killing her parents, and it was too late but they were still screaming, how could it take this long, how could this have happened, how could it still be happening? She put her hands over her ears, desperately trying to block out the sounds.
---
Despite the shock of the tragedy, Arnold Bryce's parents, prominent members of the community, managed to keep investigation and publicity to a minimum. The funeral for Arnold and Kathleen Bryce and their daughter Viola was closed-casket, for obvious reasons, and they were buried together in the Bryce family plot. Though the timing was suggestive, authorities never found evidence to link the disappearances of Augusta Klein and Daniel Shadkowycz to each other, nor to the Bryce case.
But the truth did not pass completely without note.
Taob laughed...he found it all terribly funny.
Others, in a space that was not space, amidst the columns that support reality itself, hunched slightly further under their burden, and added more marks to an ever-growing tally. They did not laugh, and had long since lost the capacity to weep. They waited.
Gremory, when she reviewed Viola's history several years hence, added a mark to her own tally, and the total pushed her towards a decision.