“Marcus are you alright? I didn’t mean to startle you!” I said quickly. If my spell was working properly he should be seeing his sister leaning over him wearing a lovely blue dress that I had once seen her in. Call me a pervert if you will but I always remembered her wearing that dress when I thought of his sister.
“Ariadne?” he said tentatively, a suspicious stare on his features. “Is that you? How did you get here?” He rose from the floor and dusted himself off; although the floor was spotless.
I hadn’t considered the conversation beyond surprising him. Now that it was clear my disguise was working I thought I might keep it up a bit longer. My mind raced as I considered my words. “Mordecai sent me. I went to Cameron looking for you and he said you had come to study here. How have you been? Rose told me you have been acting odd lately.” That should keep his suspicions at bay, I thought to myself with a self-indulgent chuckle. I refrained from hugging him, my illusion lacked any substance and my distinctly masculine frame would be a dead giveaway.
Marc looked around, “Is Mort with you?” he asked suddenly.
“No he said he would return to take me home in an hour or so,” I temporized.
“Clever girl,” he said with a sly grin. “We haven’t had any time to ourselves in ages have we?”
The look he gave me was faintly unsettling. I really had no idea what his conversations with his siblings were like when they were alone but something about his tone was odd. “No, we haven’t,” I agreed. “I’ve been worried about you.”
He took a step closer and I instinctively stepped back to avoid contact. “Do you still love your brother?” he asked in a wistful tone, “Even after my disgrace?”
I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation but I didn’t want to spoil my joke just yet. “Of course Marcus, you’ve always been my favorite.”
His eyes had a dangerous glint in them, “Your favorite?” he asked. “Don’t you mean your only? Or have you found someone else?” His voice had developed a distinctly husky sound.
Things had gotten out of hand. “What?!” I shouted in surprise, but before I could say more he leapt forward and kissed me. Shock and outrage were my sudden companions as I tried to throw him off. He clung to me instead and we wound up wrestling on the floor while I attempted to disentangle myself from the sister-loving monster my friend had become.
“Ariadne, I don’t remember you being so hairy but I like it!” he growled. I had finally gotten control of our struggle and I was working to get him into an arm lock. He was laughing now and puckering his lips at me as I twisted his arm. At last I realized I had been had. In disgust I let go of him and with a shove stepped back.
Marc was laughing so hard now he could hardly stand and he collapsed onto the floor again. “Mort you should have seen your face!” he guffawed at me.
His humor was infectious and I found myself chuckling a bit in spite of my indignation. “You’re a sick bastard, I hope you realize that! How did you figure it out?” I asked.
Marc’s laughter slowed and finally he was able to answer more soberly, “Do you really think my sister’s voice sounds like that? That was the worst falsetto I’ve ever heard!”
Of course, I should have known. I did have a better solution for the voice problem but I couldn’t use it without having direct contact with the person I was imitating first. That was academic though, I had thought my generic ‘female’ voice would be enough. Clearly I was wrong. I frowned.
“And that dress, what was that about? She’s only worn that dress to formal balls. Why would she wear that here?” he snickered, but then his eyes went wide. “Oh damn! You have a thing for my sister! Why else would you remember her at her loveliest? Oh that’s low Mort! Wait till I tell Penny!”
“I do not! You sick sister-lover! Wait till I tell your sister you tried to kiss her!” I shot back.
“I knew it was you all along! Who else could get into this place?” he retorted.
I grinned, “She doesn’t know that.”
“Fine,” he said standing up again. “Truce?” he asked, but he was still chuckling as he held out his hand.
I gave his hand a mock-suspicious glare, “I’m not sure that thing is safe to touch,” I said, but then I broke into a grin. I hugged him instead and then we sat down to talk. “How have you been doing?” I asked.
“Good,” he replied, “When there isn’t anyone sneaking up on me and pretending to be my sister.”
“I just wanted to test out the new spell,” I told him.
He snorted, “It’s impressive I’ll admit, though the voice needs a lot of work. I’ve never seen you do anything like that before though.”
“I started experimenting with illusions a few weeks ago. So far they seem fairly simple, as long as it is something I can imagine easily,” I said.
“And my sister is someone you imagine regularly I take it?” he said with a wry smile.
“No damnitt! Anyone I’ve known for a long time is fairly easy. I picked your sister because she seemed the most reasonable person to visit you, besides myself of course. If I try to do a stranger I’d almost have to be looking at them when I cast the spell in order to create a decent resemblance.”
Marc sat up straight for a moment. “Mordecai!” he exclaimed, “Have you shown anyone else your illusions yet?”
“No why?”
“Think about it, the possibilities are endless. You could imitate anyone, the king, the head of the bank… or someone you wanted to frame for a crime!” he announced. As he spoke I could see the gears in his head turning. Marc was extremely intelligent, almost as smart as myself in our academic studies as children and infinitely more devious. If anyone could think of useful ways to use deception, it would be him.
“I’m just planning to sneak into the palace, I don’t need to commit crimes or blame innocents at this point in my career,” I told him.
“Just don’t tell anyone you can do this. So long as you are the only one that knows you have a tool with few limits. Once people know what you can do it will be the opposite… any crime could be laid at your feet,” he explained.
I hadn’t thought of it in quite those terms but I could see he was right. What at first had seemed like a simple spell was fraught with all sorts of major social implications. If I could impersonate someone I could do anything… and if people knew I could impersonate anyone I could be implicated for anything that happened out of the ordinary. Rumor and scandal could easily become the rule of my life. It almost wasn’t worth using the spell at all. I shook my head, “Let’s just finish this experiment. I need to test another spell, one that should provide a better imitation of someone’s voice.”
“Anything would be better than that awful falsetto you used,” he jibed again. “Do you need me to do anything?”
“Not much, just hold still,” I said and then I reached out and touched his throat while vocalizing my new spell. Then I opened my mouth and repeated what he had just said, “Anything would be better than that awful falsetto you used.” The words emerged in an exact replica of Marc’s voice… at least as far as I could tell.
“Is that what I sound like?” Marc said, rather surprised.
I started to reply, thinking it was an honest question but he didn’t wait for an answer.
“Damn, no wonder the ladies find me irresistible!” he stated matter of factly.
I repeated my disguise spell and a moment later he was staring at his own face as well, then I spoke up, “Damn, no wonder people think I’m a conceited ass!”
“That’s not what I said,” he replied adroitly. “If you’re going to copy me you need to stick to the proper dialogue.” He stared at me for a moment longer before continuing, “That really is unnerving… like staring into a mirror that has a mind of its own. Hey! I don’t suppose you can use that spell on someone else could you?”
I thought about it for a moment, “I think I can, why?”