The Facefaker’s Game by Chandler J. Birch

Author:Chandler J. Birch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon451

THEY halted down the street from Batty Annie’s while Ashes examined the area. He didn’t bother with the optic; it was better to keep his false face on while he was here, and he couldn’t look through the stone without damaging the construct. Besides, if Ragged’s boys had Artifice on their side, he might well be doomed already anyway.

He spotted no watchers outside Annie’s. Thanking the Face of Cunning, and whatever other Faces must have started watching over him to grant this unparalleled run of luck, he took Synder’s hand.

“From here to that doorway,” he said, “we’re a pair of Denizen teenagers who’ve gone to see a witch because, wouldn’t you know it, you’ve missed your moon’s blood and if your father finds out then we’re both as rats in a cat’s den. Got me?”

Synder’s lip twitched and she nodded. “Got it.”

He handed her the book. “Any chance you can hide this in your petticoats somewhere?” The girl only smiled and vanished the book somewhere inside her construct. Faces, but she was good at this.

He led her forward, pulling on the identity of someone frightened for much more proper reasons than he was. He moved with an obviously unpracticed furtiveness, looking indiscreetly over both shoulders as he crossed the road.

He knocked on Batty Annie’s door three times. The old door creaked open some moments later, and Batty Annie’s face appeared behind the wood grain.

“Grandmother,” Synder said, and her voice became, all at once, the perfect imitation of a proper young lady. “We’re so desperately sorry to be bothering you. May we come in? It’s deplorably urgent.”

Annie eyed her skeptically, then looked at Ashes. The skeptical look intensified.

“I know your scent,” Annie snarled, eyeing Ashes with profound distaste. “Wearing another—?”

“Please, grandmother,” Ashes said sharply, slipping into an accent to match Synder. “It really is an errand of the utmost urgency. May we come in?”

Annie scowled and stepped aside. The moment the door closed, Ashes slipped off the ring.

“Sorry to be showing on your doorway with a false face, ma’am,” he said, bowing. “I figured I ought to be extra careful.”

The old woman fidgeted, looking annoyed. “Who’s this one?” She looked intensely at Synder. “Discard that Glamour, girl-child, before I yank it off you.”

Synder undid the thin scarf on her neck, and a moment later became half a foot shorter and a quarter as graceful and proper. She didn’t take her eyes off Annie; Synder looked to be somewhere between fascination and wariness. “Do I know—?”

“Probably not,” Annie replied sharply, giving Synder a cold look. “Carry on with you, then.”

Ashes halted Synder at the steps to his room.

“Got to warn you before we go down.” He looked her full in the face, intent on communicating how important this was. “Blimey don’t look like most folk. He’s got bruises and cuts and he weren’t all that pretty to start with. You call him names, you leave. You get some horrified ‘how could something like that happen if the gods really are good’ expression, you leave.

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