I quickly raised my hand.
“Questions can wait until the end of the presentation, Miss Mulledy,” Mambo Hannigan said.
“It’s okay,” Nico interjected, raising his hand as if he felt he had some power to dismiss Mambo Hannigan’s attempt to impose order on the process. “I’m happy to answer a question.”
“I only see one issue with this,” I said, lying in part. In fact, I saw a number of problems with it. Most of them, however, I couldn’t speak about openly in class. “How do you know that this spirit is willing to help? We learned already in this course that the coercion of the will is strictly forbidden in dollcraft.”
Nico smiled widely. “The dead do not have a will. Their decisions in death are governed by the lives they lived.”
That’s not true! Isabelle protested. I might have died, but I sure has hell have my own will.
“How do you know that?” I asked, shaking my head incredulously. “I mean, is there any basis for making that claim other than College Samedi tradition?”
“And do you suppose, Miss Mulledy,” Mambo Hannigan interrupted, “that College Ogoun has any greater insight than College Samedi regarding the condition of the departed?”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” I said. “It’s just logic. If you don’t know for sure if someone has a will, I mean, apart from tradition. If you don’t have any science or evidence, isn’t it better not to act rather than risk violating a person’s soul on the basis of a tradition?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “This is why the Academy shouldn’t let outsiders join…”
Miss Hannigan cut him off. “It is not your place, Mister Freeman, to question a Loa’s choice of an initiate.”
“My apologies,” Nico said, a shit-eating grin still spread across his cocksure face. “I simply mean to point out that our schools have traditions for a reason. If we constantly revised our art in favor of modern science, we’d lose our arts entirely.”
“A fine point, Mr. Freeman.” Mambo Hannigan’s countenance was immediately softened. “The modern sciences have little to offer when it comes to affairs of the deceased.”
“I simply think it’s a question we should consider. Say you’re wrong. Say you offend this spirit by manipulating her to do this ritual. If she had the power to banish a Loa, isn’t it risky to evoke a spirit with such power if you aren’t certain you can control her?”
Nico and Mambo Hannigan laughed in concert. “That’s precisely what College Samedi is most equipped to do, Miss Mulledy. Though perhaps you should consider if the arts of war taught in your college have any ethical implications of their own. What is war if not coercing the will of others on the premise that might is right?”
“Sometimes those who have the power also happen to be on the moral side of history,” I said. “Sometimes force is needed for the greater good, to keep the peace, to thwart evil.”
“And freeing one of the arts’ most important Loa is not something you would deem in the interest of the greater good?” Mambo Hannigan said. Nico simply stood there, his arms folded across his chest.
“All right,” I conceded. “You have a point. I’m sorry for interrupting the presentation.”
“It’s always important we reflect on the ethics of our arts,” Nico said, clearly sucking up to Mambo Hannigan in the process. “Thank you for your questions. They helped me sort out my own feelings on the matter.”
I rolled my eyes, which in turn elicited an even wider closed-mouthed grin from Nico. I wanted to smack the smugness right off of his face.
16
OGGIE PINCHED THE stubble on the tip of his chin as he pondered what I’d said.
“It sounds like we need to make a trip to Baton Rouge. If he fashioned the doll after Isabelle, the only place he might secure her DNA would be at her grave.”
“But if we stop him before he performs the summoning, will it even matter?”
Oggie pressed his hands together, forming a steeple with his fingers. “If Nico revealed this to you, on purpose, he’s basically begging you to try and stop him.”
I bit the tip of my thumbnail. “Or maybe he’s just reckless and overconfident. Talking shit to get under my skin.”
“Is that a gamble you are willing to make? If he binds Isabelle, it isn’t going to separate her from you.”
“So whatever he makes her do…”
“You may have to go along for the ride. And anyone who sees what he makes her do…”
“Will think I did it.”
Oggie nodded.
“So why not just stop him? I mean, he’s just a first-year student. How hard can it be?”
“I don’t believe he would have told you his plans if he didn’t want you to try,” Oggie said, rising from his chair. “When preparing for a battle, intelligence is your greatest asset. Counterintelligence is one of the best ways for an enemy to get the upper hand.”
“So, you think he might be bullshitting us?”
“If you try to stop him, if it gets you to use Isabelle’s powers, that might be enough on its own to resurrect the Baron.”
“Do you think Legba put him up to this?”
“Not really his style,” Oggie said. “Legba can be crafty. Sometimes he has an agenda he doesn’t reveal. But he isn’t a liar. He wouldn’t have deceived you, not on purpose anyway.”
“Mambo Hannigan said that the rules are different when it comes to manipulating the dead… for College Samedi.”
“But Mambo Hannigan doesn’t know that the spirit he hopes to wield could be the one soul-bound to you. It would be a clear violation if she knew.”
“Shouldn’t we just tell her?” I asked.
Oggie cringed. “There are greater matters at stake here. Particularly in the light of what we know now about your soul blade. If anyone knows—anyone who empathizes with the Bokors—it would paint a target on your back.”
“I can handle myself,” I said.
Oggie raised his eyebrow. “Confidence is a virtue. Arrogance is a vice. The difference between the two is how well you can back up the shit you talk.”
“You don’t think I have the ability to defend myself?”
“No, I don’t. Annabelle, your abilities are unrefined. If Isabelle has the reins, you stand a better chance. But passions run high in battle. If she loses control, you’ll be back in the driver’s seat with diminished abilities and a debilitating headache.”
He has a point, Annabelle. If things get intense, will you really be able to swallow your emotions entirely?
They were both right. I didn’t think I was any more emotional than anyone else. But I was human. There might be some monks, some ancient Stoics, who could control their emotions… to a point. But that takes a life of disciplined meditation. It wasn’t an art I could master over a semester, and certainly not before Nico attempted his summoning.
“Isabelle agrees. And if she isn’t in charge, my access to her magica is limited. The two or three spells I can conjure up might not be enough.”
Oggie nodded. “I think once you master my aspect, when you can wield your blade proficiently, you’ll stand a chance. Until then, we need intelligence.”
“So who’s driving?” I asked. “My Camaro is faster than your Hummer.”
Oggie raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I drive a Hummer, anyway?”
“I don’t know, compensating for a small—”
“No,” Oggie said, cutting me off with a grin. “It’s because I don’t fit in almost any other car.”
“So it is about size,” I said, grinning out of one side of my mouth.
“When you’re as big as I am,” Oggie said. “You don’t fit inside just anything.”
“We’re still talking about cars, right? Because the same could be said about your…”
“Just cars,” Oggie said, his expression blank. “But what you’re thinking about… similar principle.”
“So your host is well-endowed?” I asked, failing to filter my words.
Oggie rai
sed his eyebrows as he zipped up his oversized jacket. “I was talking about my coat… weren’t you talking about my coat? I thought…”
My eyes widened with horror as I felt my cheeks blush.
Isabelle was giggling in my mind.
Oggie stared at me intensely.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep… I’m horrible with boundaries.”
Oggie’s blank stare suddenly broke as he released a raucous laugh from his gut. “I got you good! I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I knew what you were talking about.”
My jaw dropped to the floor. “You asshole!”
Oggie continued chuckling as he opened the door and I followed him out.
I took the opportunity to steal a glance at Oggie’s chiseled hindquarters as he stepped through the door ahead of me. I was in a trance. Each step caused one of his form-fitted denim-covered cheeks to flex. I casually wondered how many lunges and squats it took to form a butt like that…
While I was pondering the figures, I collided into another body.
“Mikah, what the hell?”
He grinned, showing off his snow-white chompers. “You should really pay attention to where you’re going.”
Oggie paused and turned, his eyes locking with mine. “Mikah will be accompanying us.”
“It’s fine,” I said. Things had been incredibly awkward between us ever since Isabelle and he kissed. I almost lost it a few days earlier when he’d suggested we let her take the reins again. Isabelle was begging me to go along with it, promising she’d behave. How could I trust that? The chemistry between them… I could feel it, wrenching in my gut like a bad case of food poisoning. It was, quite possibly, the only feeling I’d ever experienced that was less pleasant than the headaches that were guaranteed to follow. So, I became something of a bitch about it, I admit.
“Nice to see you today, Annabelle. You too, Isabelle,” Mikah said.
Tell him hi for me, please!
“Isabelle says hey,” I replied unenthusiastically.
Mikah grinned.
“Well let’s get it over with,” I said.
Oggie nodded.
I’D VOLUNTEERED TO take the backseat thinking Mikah would ride shotgun. He didn’t. He hopped in the back with me.
I shrugged, unbuckled my seat belt, and moved to the vacant front seat instead.
He wanted to sit with us! Isabelle protested before lecturing me about how I was being rude and immature.
I didn’t respond—I couldn’t without making the situation more awkward. But really—what was more immature than leading a boy on when I had no intentions of reciprocating any feelings that might exist between us? Or, between him and Isabelle, rather… Whatever. I was involved regardless, and I didn’t want to be.
Oggie just stared at me as I buckled myself in. Then he shook his head.
“Sometimes I get nauseous sitting in the back on a long drive,” I said. It was true. Motion sickness was a thing for me. Though, in this instance, it was likely Isabelle’s inner dialogue about Mikah’s cuteness that was most likely going to make me want to puke if I sat back there for the trip. Not that Baton Rouge was an intolerably long drive from New Orleans… but two hours plus of his longing glances and Isabelle’s commentary would make the trip seem at least twice as long.
When we arrived at the Campbell Plantation in Baton Rouge, I was struck by how similar the house was to my own family’s mansion. Six white columns lined the front. No one lived here, though. A sign out front read “Tour a REAL Antebellum Plantation!” Of course, the tour would be all about slavery and the Civil War—they all were. Nothing is more American, I suppose, than turning the horror of our ancestors’ sins into a profit-garnishing spectacle.
To the right side of the house… just through the trees. That’s where I was buried.
“Isabelle says there’s a cemetery just through the trees,” I said, pointing in the direction Isabelle guided me.
“All right,” Oggie said. “Will she recognize exactly which grave was hers?”
I will…
I nodded.
Arriving in a clearing, I was struck by the fact that the whole cemetery had been seemingly cleared and kept. It must have been a stop on the tour.
My grave was right here.
“I don’t see a stone.”
I think there used to be a wooden cross here. I don’t exactly remember on account of, you know, being dead…
“That makes sense,” I said. “But you’re sure this is it?”
My bones are directly beneath your feet.
I bit my lower lip and kicked at the ground. It was well-packed. Totally undisturbed. Clearly, this wasn’t where Nico managed to harvest her DNA.
“Over here,” Mikah shouted.
Oggie and I quickly followed. He was hovering over a fresh patch of dug-up dirt. The only patch in the whole graveyard not covered in grass. “Is she sure that this isn’t where she was buried?” Oggie asked.
Not me. Isabelle paused a moment. It was her. My sister, Messalina.
“This was Messalina’s grave… Isabelle’s sister.”
“The Caplata?” Mikah asked.
I nodded.
But she wasn’t buried here… not anymore.
Of course she wasn’t. She’d resurrected herself. She held the aspect of Baron Samedi… she came back, and I’d seen her when I was nine.
“This doesn’t make sense.” I brushed my foot over the loose dirt that covered what used to be Messalina’s grave. “She’d resurrected… you guys know that.”
Oggie nodded. “But her body had been here, decomposing for more than a century.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. “But could there really be enough of her DNA in this grave for Nico to use for a doll?”
Oggie nodded. “All he needs is a single strand of DNA. A single hair, or a nail, left in the dirt after she resurrected.”
I took a deep breath. “Well at least we don’t have to worry about him trying to control Isabelle.”
Oggie shook his head. “This is worse. Much worse. If it’s her spirit that’s used to resurrect the Baron. It means he’ll return still under the summoning of a Caplata. He will still seek the terms of her original bargain.”
My eyes widened. “He’ll come back… as he was.”
“He’ll come back infused with the passions by which the Caplata summoned him to begin with. He’ll come back wanting vengeance. He’ll come back wanting Isabelle.”
I sighed. “Isn’t having one nasty Loa after me enough?”
“For now, we’ve heard nothing from Kalfu. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that this did not concern me. One thing I know about Kalfu is that if he wants something, he won’t take his time trying to secure it. Nonetheless, until we know what he’s up to, this is a more pressing concern.”
17
“ANY CHANCE WE could make a pit stop at the reservation?” I asked as I climbed into Oggie’s Hummer.
“Your sister?”
I nodded. “She was there that night, too. I just think she needs to know.”
“Can’t you just text her?” Mikah interjected as his seat belt clicked.
I looked over my left shoulder, squinting. “Is this really the sort of thing I should warn her about by text?”
“You could call…”
I pinched at the fabric on my jeans. The truth was I just wanted to see my big sister. I didn’t show it much, but I had my insecurities like anyone else. And she was my person. She always had been. With my parents aloof most of my childhood, she became the one I’d turn to when I was scared, insecure, or had a crush on a boy. She was the one who listened. And in her own way, she was strong.
“I’d love to stop.” Oggie glanced at me briefly before hitting the gas and turning his attention to the road ahead of us. “But the reservation is warded. I can’t get in unless I’m invited.”
I chuckled. “That sounds like something a vampire would say.”
Oggie’s grip tightened around the
steering wheel as he furrowed his brow.
“It was a joke…”
“Vampires are no joke,” Oggie said sternly.
“I know, I’ve staked one before,” I said.
“That’s not what I mean,” Oggie said. “The reason a vampire cannot enter a home unless invited is the same reason I can’t go to the reservation.”
“Because homes are warded?”
Oggie nodded. “You know that feeling you get when you know you’re home. That peace. That security. It’s more than an emotion. The love of a family, or between family members, actually protects a home. There’s a magic to it. That’s also why broken families, families that have lost love, are more vulnerable to spiritual attack.”
“Like demon attacks and hauntings?” I asked.
Oggie glared at me for a half second before fixing his attention back on the road. “Or vampires. The same sort of bond that unites a family also connects the Choctaw people. Their reservation is impenetrable.”
“Are you saying you’re like a vampire?” I raised my eyebrows.
“I am saying that vampires are a little like me. They possess the bastardized aspect of a Loa.”
“An evil Loa?” I asked.
“Not necessarily. A Caplata binds a Loa through dark Voodoo. That Loa’s aspect will come with it a sort of… craving.”
“For blood?”
Oggie nodded. “Not just blood. Souls. But blood carries with it a taste of the soul.”
“That sounds… a little gross.”
“Do you have a Bible on your phone?”
“Actually, I do. Catholic school and all.”
“Look up Leviticus chapter seventeen. Eleven and twelve.”
I retrieved my phone from my pocket and searched for the verses Oggie suggested. I read them aloud. “For the life of the creature is in the blood, and I have given it to you for performing the rite of expiation on the altar for your lives, for blood is what expiates for a life. That is why I told the Israelites: None of you will consume blood…”
Gates of Eden: Starter Library Page 63