by Vera Strange
“Hurry, this way,” Riley called out, pulling Jamal deeper into the swamp. They splashed forward and waded up to their waists in the standing water.
Jamal glanced around for his brother. “Malik, where are you?”
There was no answer. Fear rushed through him like ice water.
Riley glanced back at him. The reddish light from the skull necklace washed over her face. Terror lit up her eyes. “Listen, we have to swim,” she hissed. “It’s the only way to lose them.”
Jamal plunged deeper into the water and swam after her, trying not to think about the poisonous snakes and other creatures lurking all around them. The skull necklace lit their way.
“Watch out, Little J!” Malik rasped behind Jamal.
Suddenly, two red eyes, glowing like embers, lit up in the black water.
Then another set of red eyes.
And another.
“Uh…w-what’re those?” Jamal stammered, pointing to them.
Then he saw their jaws crack open in the water. They were filled with rows of sharp teeth. They gnashed and snapped at the air hungrily.
“Oh, no…gators!” Riley yelped.
“But why’re their eyes glowing?” Jamal asked.
“They must be bewitched…by the shadow man’s friends on the other side….” Riley coughed, sputtering on water. “That tree…over there…we have to get to it!”
More red eyes opened in the dark water and chased them.
They swam toward a cypress tree that grew out of the middle of the marsh like a little island. But the gators were gaining on them.
Riley reached the tree first and scrambled up the thick roots. Her hands slipped, but then she hooked a branch. She reached back for Jamal. Their eyes met for a split second.
“My hand—grab it,” she yelled.
He swam toward the tree, but the gators were right behind him. He could see their red eyes drawing closer. He held his breath and tried to swim faster.
Desperately, Jamal reached up and clasped her hand. She yanked him up onto the tree right as a gator snapped at his ankle, almost taking his foot off.
They scrambled farther up the roots while the bewitched gators swarmed around the cypress tree, circling it and blocking any means of escape. Their red eyes glowed in the murky water. The sun had fully set, and the swamp was pitch-black.
They were trapped.
“Malik…are you here?” Jamal called, feeling panicked that they’d lost him in the chase.
“Right behind you,” Malik rasped. “Even though you can’t see me.”
“At least we’re safe up here,” Riley said, clinging to the tree. “Gators can’t climb trees—”
But then a gator scrambled up the roots.
It snapped at them.
And then the others followed, climbing the tree.
“Wait, gators can’t do that,” Riley hissed. “How’s that possible?”
“These aren’t normal gators,” Jamal said, snagging her hand and pulling her up higher.
He struggled to hold on, but his hands were wet from swimming and slipped on the slick tree bark. He plummeted down, right toward a gator. It snapped at his leg. He scrambled away but then slipped down farther. The gator opened its jaws, its teeth glinting in the dim light.
Suddenly, a voice boomed out of the darkness.
“Foul creature, release them! Go back to your swamp!”
A flash of reddish light illuminated the bayou, driving the gators back into the water. They snapped at the air, angry to be denied their prey.
Jamal’s eyes fell on the source of the light.
On the edge of the swamp stood an old woman with brown skin just like Riley’s, clutching a staff hewn from gnarled, twisted cypress wood. A crystal adorned the top of it and glowed red in the darkness.
The old woman threw back the hood of her cloak, revealing hair and eyes that were, oddly, bright blue.
“Grandma!” Riley called.
“Hold tight, child,” her grandmother called in her resounding voice. She turned her attention back to the gators, who had regrouped and circled around the cypress tree.
Her grandmother reached into her cloak and pulled out a handful of glittering silver dust. Jamal flinched back when he saw it, recognizing it as similar to the magic the shadow man used.
The old woman blew it at the gators.
“Release these foul creatures from your dark magic,” she boomed out, blowing the dust at them. “And return to the shadows—where you belong.”
The silver dust clouded the air, swirling around the gators. They slowly stopped circling the tree. Their eyes blinked out, one by one, the reddish light extinguished.
She had broken the spell.
Released from the dark magic, the gators quickly retreated into the bayou, consumed by the murky depths. Riley and Jamal waited until they were sure they were gone, then clambered down the tree and swam to the banks of the swamp.
“Oh, my child, are you hurt?” Grandma DeSeroux said, stooping down to pull Riley into a hug. The crystal on top of her staff glowed. She checked her grand-daughter over for injuries.
“Grandma, we’re fine,” Riley said. “But we wouldn’t have been for much longer if you hadn’t found us….”
“The shadow man,” Grandma DeSeroux said in a sharp voice, her strange blue eyes narrowing when they fell on Jamal. “This is his dark magic. I’d sense it anywhere. I tracked it out here and found you.”
“Yup, that’s what we thought, too,” Riley said with a nod.
“But he rarely ventures into my bayou,” Grandma DeSeroux said with a frown that deepened the wrinkles in her brown skin and made her look even older. “He knows better than that. What’s drawn him out here?”
“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Riley said. “This is my friend Jamal. Dr. Facilier cursed his brother and turned him into a shadow.”
“A shadow curse?” Grandma DeSeroux said, raising her eyebrows. “That’s not something you want to mess with.”
She raised her staff, casting a halo of reddish light that fell over Malik, making his shadow form stand out. Her eyes widened in fear when she saw him; then they shifted to Jamal.
“Oh, no, my child,” she said. “I fear that your brother is already fading. We don’t have much time. Quickly, follow me!”
* * *
“Children, hurry!” Grandma DeSeroux said in an urgent tone. “This way!”
Riley’s grandmother led them through the bayou, using the light from her staff to guide the way. Despite the thick underbrush, roots that threatened to trip them with each step, and marshy earth, she was sure-footed and moved quickly.
Jamal was the one who struggled to keep pace with the old woman. He slipped, then righted himself at the last minute. Mud sloshed up his legs. He followed right behind Riley and her grandmother while Malik stuck to him like a second shadow.
Somehow the swamp feels less scary with her leading the way, he thought.
He glanced from Riley to her grandmother, taking in their appearances. In spite of their age difference and their haircuts and clothes, he could see the family resemblance. It had something to do with their eyes. Even though Riley’s were brown and her grandmother’s were that odd blue, there was a sharpness in both. A glint. It was as if they could both really see things.
Suddenly, he heard something rustling in the trees behind them.
The skull necklace exploded to life with reddish light, glowing underneath his shirt. His heart thudded faster.
“The dolls!” he said, glancing back into the thick darkness of the bayou.
Riley gasped. “Oh, no, they must be following us.”
She reached back and clasped his hand. Her palms were slick with sweat. He felt a jolt when their hands met, but this time it wasn’t fear—it was something else altogether. It felt powerful and deep, like something almost magical. But what does it mean? he wondered.
“Stubborn little creatures,” Grandma DeSeroux muttered, turning around and wieldin
g her staff. “They’re not easily deterred—not once they’ve set their sights on what they most desire.”
“Most desire?” Jamal repeated, swallowing hard against his fear.
“My child, you must have something the shadow man greatly desires,” she said, leading them deeper into the bayou, “or he wouldn’t chase us this far. He knows this is my territory. I fear he must be growing stronger. Usually the protections would keep him away.”
The rustling drew closer; then the dolls burst through the trees. Their faces looked horrific—lopsided, with button eyes, stitched mouths, and slits for noses.
Their eyes locked on to Jamal.
Moving with incredible speed, they scrambled from the underbrush toward him. Some scaled the trees, rustling through the branches overhead. Soon they’d spring on him.
He shut his eyes, bracing for the attack, when he heard Grandma DeSeroux’s voice.
“Foul creations, begone,” Grandma DeSeroux boomed out, producing more silver dust. She blew it at the dolls. The dust clouded the air, obscuring the dolls from their view.
“Children, come fast,” Grandma DeSeroux hissed. “That’ll throw them off—but not for long.”
Then she grabbed Riley’s hand, pulling them forward, and extinguished the light from her staff. Darkness enveloped them. Thick darkness. Pure darkness. Jamal felt himself choking on it. He couldn’t see anything. But he held fast to Riley’s hand like his life depended on it.
Because in a way, it did.
“Malik, are you with me?” Jamal whispered to the darkness, to the shadows.
Silence.
Had he lost his brother forever?
But then—
“Don’t worry, I’m here…Little J,” rasped Malik. “Right behind you.”
Was it Jamal’s imagination, or did his voice sound weaker? He remembered Grandma DeSeroux’s words: I fear that your brother is already fading. He just hoped she could help them.
A few minutes later, Grandma DeSeroux lit up her staff again. The reddish light fell over a rustic hut, surrounded by a trickling stream. It looked simple yet idyllic, but, more important, like a safe place. One word rushed through Jamal’s head.
Home.
It looked like home.
“You’ll be safe here,” Grandma DeSeroux said, throwing open the front door and ushering them inside. “There are ancient protections.”
Her hut was more spacious than it appeared from the outside, like an optical illusion. How is this possible? Jamal wondered. Inside, a fire flickered, casting warm light over the comfy interior.
Masks of all shapes and sizes adorned the walls, while patterned fabrics covered the furniture and brightened the decor. There was a simple single bed, a lumpy old sofa, and a knobby rocking chair carved from cypress wood. Jamal glanced at the stained glass windows, wondering if the dolls were lurking outside, waiting for them to emerge from the hut. He just hoped her ancient protections would be enough to keep them away.
Grandma DeSeroux cast off her cloak, hung it on a peg, then settled into the rocking chair with a sigh. Jamal noticed that her black hair, braided back from her face, was streaked with gray. She still clutched her staff. Jamal got the feeling that she never set it aside.
Her sharp eyes fixed on them. “Have a seat, my children,” she said in her clear voice. “Make yourselves at home. My house is your house.”
Riley led Jamal to the sofa, where they settled in. He glanced down, realizing how filthy he was from their trek through the bayou, and immediately felt bad for tarnishing her clean hut. Malik flowed over the floor and took his place by Jamal.
“Oh my, your poor brother,” Grandma DeSeroux said, her eyes following Malik as his dark form moved across the floorboards. “Tell me everything, my child. Leave nothing out.”
Jamal swallowed hard to still his nerves, then explained everything that had transpired: his grandmother’s leaving him her skull necklace when she passed away; Dr. Facilier’s coming after him and promising him the future he most desired; Jamal’s trading his brother’s trumpet to him instead of the necklace, then waking up to a world where he had replaced his brother altogether.
“And then I found out that my brother had become a walking, talking shadow,” Jamal finished, casting his eyes down to the creaky old floorboards. “And it’s all my fault. I never should have trusted the shadow man.”
Grandma DeSeroux shook her head. She rose from her rocking chair and poured them mugs of steaming herbal tea from the pot simmering gently over the fire.
“My child, that’s what he does,” she said, handing Jamal a mug. The mug was warm—and it did make him feel better. “He preys on folks’ deepest, darkest fears, then makes them an offer they can’t refuse. He promises them what they most desire. But it’s always a trick to get what he really wants. He’s fooled more poor souls than I can count.”
“But…can you help me?” rasped Malik, his voice fading in and out.
Jamal realized that it wasn’t his imagination: his brother was growing weaker.
Grandma DeSeroux noticed it, too. She looked worried. “I fear he is beginning to fade from this world. I’ve seen this sort of dark magic before. Soon your brother will cease to exist altogether. You don’t have much time to reverse the curse.”
“Grandma, you have to help him,” Riley said. “You’re our only hope.”
“Please, how do we fix it?” Jamal added. “There must be a way to help. I’ll do anything.”
“Child, I wish it were that easy,” Grandma DeSeroux said, lowering her head. It was as if a shadow crossed her face, aging her. “This sort of ancient magic isn’t easily undone. It is nearly unbreakable.”
Jamal felt a jolt of fear. “What do you mean? It can’t be reversed?”
Grandma DeSeroux sipped her tea. “Once payment is rendered, and the friends have sent their minions from the other side,” she said in a soft voice, “only Dr. Facilier can reverse the curse.”
“You were right,” Jamal said, pulling out the skull necklace. “I have something that Dr. Facilier greatly desires. I think he cursed my brother to trick me into giving him this.”
Grandma DeSeroux’s eyes fixed on the necklace and widened. “Oh yes, he very much wants that necklace. Your grandmother left it to you?”
“Yes, she did,” Jamal said, “along with a note—Beware of the shadows. Only, I didn’t understand what it meant. But maybe if I give it to him, then he’ll save my brother.”
“Grandma,” Riley said, studying her grandmother’s visage, “you recognize that necklace, don’t you?”
“Oh yes, I do,” she replied.
And then she reached into her dress and pulled out a skull necklace that was identical to the one around Jamal’s neck.
“But…how on earth do you have the same necklace?” Jamal said.
He stared at the skull necklace around Grandma DeSeroux’s neck. It was the twin of the one fastened around his neck. A thousand questions rushed through his head as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
“Oh, my child,” Grandma DeSeroux said with a wry smile, “I knew your grandmother. Let’s just say…she was like me.”
“Wait, she had magic?” Jamal said, feeling even more shocked. He glanced at Riley, then at Malik, who shifted around on the floor, contorting.
“Well…that would explain a lot…” Malik rasped. “She was kind of strange. Never went outside. Wore those dark veils. Barely talked.”
“That’s one way to describe us,” Grandma DeSeroux chuckled. “We were both part of an ancient order of people with good magic. These days, there aren’t many of us left in this world. We’re sworn to use our powers for good and to protect our city from harm.”
Riley frowned. “So how do you know the shadow man?”
“Once upon a time, this…entity you’re dealing with belonged to our order and used his powers only for good,” Grandma DeSeroux said, sipping her tea with a grimace. “But he became fascinated by dark magic and, eventually, consumed
by greed and his quest for wealth and power. That was when he named himself after the legendary mythical shadow man, Dr. Facilier.”
“Let me guess,” Jamal said, feeling his stomach churn sickly. “That was how he became a shadow man himself—by aligning himself with evil magic?”
“That’s right,” Grandma DeSeroux said. “We expelled him from our order and tried to strip him of his powers. But he had grown too strong. He fought back and defeated us. Your grandmother tried to stop him…. That’s why she…why she changed so…”
She trailed off as if it pained her to finish her thought.
“Right, my mother said something about that,” Jamal said. “Like how she wasn’t always afraid of the sunlight and unable to venture outside.”
He remembered his grandmother sitting in her rocking chair, the thick curtains drawn against the sun, her body draped head to toe with veils.
“Yes, some dark magic leaves a wound,” Grandma DeSeroux said. “One that can’t be healed. It damaged her too badly. She was never the same. I’m sorry you didn’t know her before that happened. Dr. Facilier did that to your grandmother.”
Jamal struggled to absorb all of it. He glanced down at Malik, wishing they could make real eye contact. His brother swirled across the floor.
“Tell me about the necklaces,” he said, feeling the outlines of the skull sockets pressing into his palm.
“Many long years ago, we forged them to protect us from the shadow man,” Grandma DeSeroux said. “Oh, my child, he is far older than he appears. That’s some dark magic indeed. Then each member of my order retreated into the shadows to hide from him.”
“Our grandmother…became a recluse…” Malik rasped. “She never left her house. She wouldn’t even open the windows. The curtains were always drawn. She wore veils.”
“Yes, and I retreated into the bayou to my family’s land,” Grandma DeSeroux said, “where I’d be safe from the shadow man’s magic. Only I fear that over time, he’s grown more powerful than even I realized. I’m guessing that he’s also the reason your grandmother died. He came after her for that necklace, and she wouldn’t give it to him. Instead, she left it to you.”