The Mask Maker by Spencer Rook Page A

more interesting it was than anything else that had been talked about thus far.
    "No one? Someone has to. We need to see if the masks are going to be ready in time. You guys have to have something to wear during the festival." Perry paused, waiting for one of us to step forward. "Oh, I see how it is. All of you like to talk big up until it comes time to actually do something, and then you all shut down. That's very interesting." He seemed pleased with being able to mock us for once.
    "It's not very fair to send one of us up to that death trap, now is it?" Pat asked, pointing his hammer at Perry.
    "Fine! I'll go do it myself. But don't expect me to be in a good mood when I get back. And this stage better be near completion." Muttering a few choice words under his breath, he turned away from us and walked towards a small dirt path that led towards the village.
    "Like anyone would want to go see the mask maker. I don't even know why he's still in business here. Shouldn't the town have run him out by now? Mark my words, boys, the second I'm allowed to practice unrestricted magic, I might just pay him a little visit," Pat said, sitting down on the grass.
    I had only seen the mask maker once, when we were young children and his father was still the mask maker. This was, of course, before his father had died and all of the rumors had started. It was before he had become known as the demented mask maker. Now, seeing how everyone talked about him, I almost wished I had been able to befriend him when we were younger. No one should live alienated in his own town, with only his shop and whatever else lurked inside of it.
    "Where do you think you're going?" Pat asked me as I started walking towards Perry's direction. The others had already sat down. If they didn't plan on working, I figured there was no point in me sticking around.
    "Don't worry about it," I called over my shoulder.
    "Going to see the freak?"
    My steps faltered as I heard the others chuckle over his remark. Pat had always been the ringleader, causing trouble which the others always defended. He was the type of kid who would carry groceries to help a lady and then steal something from her bags before she knew what was happening. The festival couldn't come soon enough, and then I wouldn't have to see him anymore.
    I shot him a smile. "If I wanted to see a freak then I would just stay here." I'm sure he was furious, but I didn't pay him anymore attention.
    Perry was already halfway up the path by the time I had trotted close enough behind him to speak. "Sir," I said. "I can go and check."
    He turned around, squinting at me, a look of mild surprise mixed with amusement on his face. "What's that, Luk?"
    "I was just saying that I would go and check on the masks for you." I looked over his shoulder rather than directly into his eyes. Now that I had stopped him, I felt uncomfortable with continuing on.
    "Are you sure, Luk?" Perry smiled at me. "I know that you and the rest of your cronies are all frightened of Alexander." Alexander. That was his name. I hadn't heard anyone call him that in years.
    "No, sir. That's them, not me. I really don't believe in all of those stories that they talk about." I paused. "I shouldn't, should I?"
    Perry let out a long sigh. "Listen, Alexander is a very special young man. I know that there were stories that started a few years ago. The death of his father didn't help with that, with no one around to protect his name. He just doesn't like coming out and seeing others around the town all of the time. Probably because of the stories that people like your friends go on spouting. Trust me, I would not send you up there if I felt that you would be in any danger. Heck, I've visited him several times."
    "You have?" I don't know why I found it surprising. Someone had to visit the shop—otherwise he wouldn't still be in business.
    He let out a small laugh. "How do you think we place the orders to get the masks in the first place? I'm not in the habit of