“I guess that sort of depends on what you mean when you say it?” I gave him a suspicious look.
“Are you saying that you have found one of the Gates of Guinee?” He gulped loudly, trying to moisten his noticeably parched mouth.
“Erm…yes?”
He was acting as though it were so unbelievable. Was it so shocking that some lowly priestess could find it?
“I…I…wow, I just can’t believe it! No one other than the Loas know their locations and no one has been able to locate them. I was beginning to think they were nothing more than myth.”
I didn’t reply, not knowing quite what to make of what he was telling me. While I’d been told I was gifted, even by voodoo community standards, I didn’t think I was as special as all that. I needed to remember that Marie Laveau’s blood ran through my veins and as such, anything was possible. Either way, I didn’t know what to say, so I turned and continued our journey. Neither of us said a word for the next ten minutes or so it seemed. It could’ve been thirty minutes or two, it was hard to tell with my mind so jumbled.
Following the magical pull became the easy part. It was the figuring out how to go about opening the entrance to New Orleans and the mortal plane that was daunting. I knew that what I did previously wouldn’t work this time. Flesh and bone was so much more than an astral body.
“Do you know anything about how to open it?” I asked tentatively.
His eyebrows furrowed like he was thinking very deeply on the subject. With a huff, he said, “I’m afraid I can’t be of much use to you, miss. I don’t remember reading anything that could be of any help here.”
I trudged forward, despite feeling like all hope was obliterated by Mateo’s admission. Would I really get all the way there only to be knocked back to the starting line? I figured that was about how my luck went. We went on, much like before, without speaking a word to each other and we were both so lost in our own thoughts that there was no room for further communication.
I began taking in my surroundings. The fog was thick, the ground damp, and it was so easy to get lost. It didn’t occur to me to wonder what was out here. Maybe I just flat out didn’t want to know.
The smell of rot hit my nose full force and stopped me in my tracks. It was distinctly different from anything I’d ever smelled before and very much something I never wanted to encounter ever again.
“Mateo? What’s out here with us? And by Damballah, what’s that god awful stench?” I whispered, not wanting to further draw the attention of whatever was in our company.
He gave me an odd look. “We’re in Guinee, miss. The dead are out here. That stench is one of the condemned. Without their ancestors, they rot.” His words made a chill snake down my spine.
I’d not ventured outside the palace since my arrival and I hadn’t been witness to the vile creatures who were damned. There was a small part of me that was held enraptured in morbid fascination. That part of me warred with the fear of what I didn’t know. The odor grew stronger, yet I heard and saw nothing around us through the impenetrable cloud. My skin was growing damp with the perspiration.
Slowly, a hazy shadow emerged from the fog. It was slumped and unclear, not looking like something that had once been a human. The form’s movements were jerky and lacked any real coordination. It sluggishly ventured closer to me, becoming clearer with each stumble forward. I watched interestedly as it’s face finally came in to view.
My jaw dropped open and I forgot to breathe. I recognized it, or him. The face was bloated and greyish with pieces of flesh hanging. Things like his arms appeared more or less normal, though the torso was a different story. It was but a small fraction of the man it used to be. It was sunken in and nearly skeletal despite being mostly hidden by his trademark look, a dark suit.
It was Drake. Or what was left of him.
He was the disgusting waste of oxygen that’d dragged me into this whole mess, someone I’d once feared. Now, I just felt sick. I couldn’t muster up enough emotion to feel sorry for the man, though it didn’t seem right either.
He was muttering to himself as he drew nearer, seemingly not noticing our existence. I shuffled closer, only to be halted by Mateo’s hand restraining me from moving too near.
He shook his head. “Not safe.”
For likely the only time since reaching puberty, I took heed and did what I was told. Some of his words were jumbled and incomprehensible, but he repeated the same two phrases over and over again.
“Didn’t know. Can’t be trusted.”
Didn’t know what? Who couldn’t be trusted? I didn’t think he’d be capable of a response even if I asked. There was something in his words that bothered me though.
He kept going as he passed in front of me, not stopping or noticing anything unusual. Perhap, that was the point? Eternal damnation, to be forever alone and trapped with the reminder of everything you’d done. The physical aspects were nothing to be desired either.
Just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone back into the mists. The scent dissipated the further away he got and my stomach began to settle.
“Is he gone?” I asked Mateo.
He studied the landscape around us and nodded. It didn’t mitigate the feeling of being watched. The unease lingered. I found it was challenging to force my legs to move from the spot they’d rooted to. Something grabbed on to my shoulder and I couldn’t stifle the blood curdling scream that left me. I was sure Drake and the souls that resided in those lands were about to make me join them forever.
It was a kneejerk reaction to my heightened awareness and I was beyond relieved to follow the hand to the being it belonged to and realize it was only Mateo. He was lending me his calm resolve so we could continue to the gate.
“Sorry. I just…yeah.” I looked away, slightly embarrassed. The tips of my ears burned and he gave me a tiny reassuring smile and took the lead.
He continued for a few more moments in the direction we’d gone. It had to be getting close because the feeling of magic crawled over my skin and hummed under it. My head swiveled around, searching for any sign of it.
“It’s near, isn’t it?” Mateo asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t see it, but the sensations were so strong we had to be practically on top of it. My eyes drifted shut as I searched for the source of the magical pull. I couldn’t see anything, except a blinding light which confused me. I opened my eyes again and pulled myself back together, and was once again faced with the bleak grey landscape of Guinee. I stepped back from the spot. Though, I couldn’t quite make out what I’d seen.
Not knowing what else to do, I let my instincts guide me. Maybe Marie was near to give me some guidance once again. It wouldn’t be the first time my grandmother had interfered on my behalf.
“Mateo, I need something sharp.”
His perplexed expression at my request gave way to determination as he searched the pockets of his robe. First one then the other before coming up with a small multi tool looking instrument which he promptly presented to me.
Grabbing it from him, I searched over the many attachments for something I could use and finally I saw it. A tiny pocket knife. It would have to do. Beggars couldn’t afford to be choosers. Flipping it out, I thumbed the sharpened blade and drew it harshly over my fleshy palm. Hot crimson beads welled up along the laceration. Once it began to bleed, it pooled quickly in my hand. I moved back to the spot I had stood in before, feeling warm. The air around me vibrated in anticipation. My hand shot out and within seconds had drawn a veve, or a symbol representing a Loa, in midair with the sticky liquid flowing from my hand. It was like I was on autopilot.
The veve began to glow brightly and my gut said I had somehow found the key to unlocking the gate. The symbol grew brighter until I almost couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. Just when I was about to shut my eyes or look away, it dissolved. The area before us was no longer just like the rest of the grey landscape, instead, it was the gate just as I had remembered it.
Mat
eo’s face was the picture of awe and shock as he witnessed the gate opening to us. There was no explanation that I could offer him because I wasn’t sure how I’d done it myself, but I could lead the way. I didn’t give myself long enough to think about it much. If I had, I might’ve chickened out at the thought of not coming out the other side alive. As it was, I had faith that if I could somehow get the gate open myself, then maybe, just maybe, I was different enough to pull off yet another miracle.
I grabbed ahold of Mateo’s hand and pulled him along with me, putting one foot in front of the other. I strode forward and the eerie silence turned to the screech of metal against metal and the whirring of cars as they raced by. I was standing in the middle of the Canal Street median once again, just like I had before. I peeked at Mateo, who was clutching my hand as though his life depended on it, which I supposed it did. He had his eyes screwed shut tightly, refusing to open them even though we were then safe.
A giggle escaped me. “Mateo, we’re alright.”
I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and his eyes cracked open slightly to make sure that we were actually alive and not stuck elsewhere.
Voices grew louder, lots of them. It was then that I noticed the crowd growing on the sidewalk across the street. Shocked faces were watching us and snapping photos with their phones.
Shit.
“We need to go, like now.”
I still had a solid hold on his hand and gave it a tug. We bolted down Carondelet street, hoping we’d lose the attention of onlookers. We would surely be plastered on the front page of every newspaper in the metropolitan area. Headlines like mysterious people walk onto street from thin air and people from another dimension visit New Orleans flashed through my mind. If Legba and the Baron didn’t already know we were gone, it wouldn’t take long for them to track us down with all the attention we were attracting.
We made a large loop and crossed back over Canal Street into the French Quarter once I was sure that no one was following us. We needed my car, but it had been so long since I’d had to leave it behind and run from the Bacalou that there was very little doubt my car had been towed and impounded or worse. Once my destroyed apartment had been discovered, the police might have taken it as evidence. I needed someone that was still in the area, someone with a car.
Angie was still in New Orleans, however, my mind reeled at the idea of bothering her given the state I’d seen her in last. Arlen also wouldn’t take too kindly to me upsetting her healing by dragging her back in to my problems. That left only one option.
Rhys. His house was close by and his car would likely be there. I mean, it wasn’t like he would be using it right away. Borrowing it for a little while wouldn’t bother him. He’d understand.
“Do you know where we are going?” the old man asked.
He hadn’t stopped looking over his shoulder since we came through the gate. Was this all new to him? I had assumed that he had once been an inhabitant of this world, but his demeanor was making me question that assumption.
“Mhmm,” I mumbled as we turned on to Rhys’s street. “We are getting a car.”
Like most homes in the older areas of New Orleans, there aren’t many garages or driveways, so vehicles are parked curbside in front of their residences. As expected, Rhys’s black beast was sitting in front of his house. Dirt from the street sweepers coated his usually pristine vehicle; it was the only way to tell he hadn’t used it in a while.
My short stay at his home, my dream house, had taught me a few of his quirks. He had a brick on the front of his building that was loose, which was where he typically stored the spare key to his front door. The second was that he kept his car keys in his pocket at all times and the spare was under the large leafy potted plant several feet inside his front entrance. Both of which were exactly where they were supposed to be.
The car fired up without hesitation and the gas tank was full; I was sure I was finally hitting a lucky streak. One could only hope. I threw the seatbelt across myself and buckled it in, only to realize that Mateo hadn’t joined me in the car. He was staring at it with a look of fear and interest.
I rolled the window down. “You coming, or what?”
“I don’t mean any disrespect, miss, but isn’t this stealing?”
My mouth dropped open slightly at his question before I could recompose myself. I hadn’t thought of how Mateo might perceive everything that was happening and surprisingly I felt a bit guilty.
“No, we’re borrowing it. It’s not stealing if I’m returning it and that’s beside the point. I know the owner and I know for a fact that he would have no objections.”
He appeared doubtful, yet joined me in the car. Mateo settled into the seat beside me and drew the belt across himself, mimicking my own.
I wasted no time taking off and getting out of the city. I knew St. Martinville was close to Lafayette and would take the better part of three hours to reach. It also gave me the perfect opportunity to talk to Mateo about everything that had been happening without the fear of eavesdropping.
We had just merged on to interstate ten when I broke the somewhat awkward silence. “So, um, what did you mean before about me deciding the fate of the coming war?”
With a deep sigh, he gave me a thoughtful look. “Exactly that. Whichever side you choose shall be victorious, even if you don’t consciously decide.”
His sagely advice did nothing, except confuse me more. How would I know which side to choose? None of the Loas could be trusted, I’d already seen as much. Even Mama Yansa had lied to me. I hated to think of what Legba or Samedi could have hidden up their sleeves. Which reminded me.
“I have something really important to ask you and I need you to be completely honest with me, okay?”
He nodded.
“Rhys was attacked and damn near beaten to death. I spoke with Yansa about it. She said the magical trademark, if you will, was old and could only belong to one person. Damballah. What does that mean? How could that be?”
Mateo couldn’t hide the shock from his weathered features. The creases around his eyes went smooth as they widened and his jaw slackened. “I can’t speak as to the why. However, if he is involved-”
“Things must be much more serious than we thought. I already know that. Has this happened before?”
“This means that the war has begun. Damballah doesn’t typically involve himself in the affairs of the world because that’s the job of the Loas. If he’s become involved, I’d say it’s because someone has dragged him into it.”
“So, is that a no then?”
Whenever I became scared, I reverted to sarcasm and it seemed that it was something I had not outgrown, even after the multitude of events I had lived through. It was a good thing that Mateo didn’t seem to mind my attitude much.
“That’s a no. None of the records have ever shown anything like this. It’s just not done. They can influence them and play tricks, little more than that though.”
The Loas were unpredictable. They were shifty. If you were sure you had their plans figured out, they’d go and pull off something no one had ever even considered. I grew quiet as I pondered what he had said. Things hadn’t made sense since I’d found out what I truly was or that I was destined for great things. What would cause one of them to act out now? Why hurt Rhys? I mean, what had he ever done to any of them to deserve what happened to him?
There was another matter that had been bothering me, though I wasn’t sure how to ask. It was embarrassing to admit something so personal. However, the changes in my personality had become so profound that I couldn’t keep it to myself. I knew things were happening and changing within me and I needed answers. Without them, I was afraid I would lose myself completely. Zelda had been my tipping point and the drastic changes in the directions of my thoughts downright scared me. I no longer knew what I was capable of if given the chance.
“There’s something else I wanted to speak with you about. I…well…there have been some changes happening,” I st
ammered. How do you casually tell someone that you think you’re becoming evil? Assuming it was better done like removing a sticky bandage, quick and painfully, I spat it out. “I think I’m turning to the dark side just like Anakin Skywalker did in Revenge of the Sith.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know this Mr. Skywalker you speak of. What makes you think you are becoming dark?”
I didn’t bother to try explaining my reference, but I thought back over everything that had been happening and tried to pinpoint exactly when things had changed. It hadn’t been long after my arrival that I started to feel rage and the desire to hurt the Baron.
“Feelings here and there since my arrival in Guinee. I’ve always been vehemently opposed to harming another being, with the exception of the Bacalou. However, I didn’t hesitate to disfigure Zelda. That was bad by itself. I was more concerned with the fact that I enjoyed it. I craved feeling that kind of power again. It’s gotten progressively worse and lately it’s been infecting most of my thoughts and everything about me. I used to be happy and could forgive and forget when I got screwed over. Now, I plot the worst possible revenge and want to watch people suffer.” My long winded explanation left me feeling numb, yet fearful of what he might say was wrong with me.
“Hmm. Well, it could just be everything you’ve been through finally taking its toll on you.”
I’d left out a pretty vital piece of information because I was afraid of what it could mean. Remembering Drake’s magic looking like it was as black as pitch, spurred me into spilling the last bit to Mateo.
“My magic changed, too.”
Deep frown lines formed between his eyebrows and next to his mouth. “Changed how?” he asked, seemingly concerned and intrigued by the revelation.
“When I first began using my powers, they looked like liquid smoke and it was white like snow. After I went to live with the Baron, its color started to change. It’s turned grey and it’s been getting darker ever since.” In our close proximity, I couldn’t avoid his scrutiny.
A Soul's Surrender (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 2) Page 11