by Sara Clancy
At the mention of finding the baby’s body, Fleur had attacked. She had never questioned if she could hurt the living. Fleur had struck out with a whip and fury. It had cracked over Louis’ back, driving him down before Marigold could intervene. Now that she had, she wasn’t certain she could do anything. She reached for the whip, her fingertips brushing across the soft leather that encased the handle.
Louis drew himself onto his hands and knees, each attempted breath pulling an agonized wheeze out of him. Marigold threw her elbow into Fleur’s ribs but the woman barely responded to the action. She pushed Marigold aside and snatched up the whip’s handle before Marigold could recover. The unseen child shrieked, a horrid, gut-wrenching sound that carried into her very marrow. Now on his feet, Louis ran for the door. One look from the woman and the door locked into place, trapping him inside.
“Let him go,” Marigold said as she got to her feet.
Fleur’s only response was to pull her arm back. The long trail of the whip coiled and slithered like a living creature. Her wrist flicked. The whip lashed forward, seeking flesh. Marigold raised her arms, defending her face but sacrificing her arms. The crack of leather slid across her skin and left a bleeding gash in its wake. Fire spread along her veins and made her bones boil. Fleur pulled back again and Marigold braced herself for the next strike.
Blue figures streaked across the room, blurring Marigold’s vision as they surrounded Fleur. The slaves she had seen before held Fleur’s arms back, baring the force of her fury and keeping her from Marigold.
“Thank you,” Marigold breathed as she got to her feet.
They didn’t reply. Barely looked in her direction. She thanked them once more and hurried to Louis’ side. He was still struggling to open the door. Even with her help, the wood remained firmly in place. The walls began to blister and the scent of smoke filled her nose. Louis began to choke. He needed to get out. She placed her hands over his and added his strength to her own. His skin felt like static under hers but the door held in place. He needs to get out! The thought slammed around her head like a trapped animal. The baby’s cries melded with the struggling ghosts behind her. He might not survive if Fleur gets free. Not knowing what else to do, Marigold placed her hands against the door, closed her eyes, and tried to summon up the sensation of the fall. Of how it felt when she moved from one reality to the next. She had no idea if she could force the change, if she had any chance of taking him with her into a different reality, but it was all she could think of.
The molecules of the door felt like wet sand under her touch. She clawed at it, digging through the mush until a small gap opened up before her. High on victory, she struggled to increase the space. Louis kept fumbling with the door handle, banging his fist against it and screaming at the top if his lungs. He can’t see you, Marigold reminded herself. She stuck her head through the gap. But she hadn’t created a portal like she had hoped. Real or not, she had only succeeded in creating a gap in the door that he couldn’t pass through.
Glancing around the lobby she tried to find someone to help. But as much as the baby screamed and Louis bellowed, no one even turned towards the room. They can’t see him, she realized with a mix of frustration and fear. For them, Louis was as invisible as the ghosts were still raging around them. Her hands shook as she brought herself fully back into the room and attacked the door handle again. At first, she didn’t hear it, hidden under the still screaming child, but as she turned back to the room it became clear.
Cypress. The word repeated in a never-ending loop. Each time she heard it, Fleur’s rage increased. She struggled harder against the hold they had on her. Cypress. The door opened with a click and a woman entered. Instantly moving to Louis, she took some of his weight, keeping him on his feet while she bombarded him with questions. Louis could only whimper in pain and shook his head in confusion. Cypress.Fleur broke free from her captors, her scream covering all other sounds in the room. The edges of her being blurred and twisted, flowing out like bolts of lightning. She barreled towards them, face distorted and eyes hollow. Marigold leapt for Louis. Using herself as a human shield, she gathered both Louis and the woman in her arms. She hadn’t expected to actually be able to touch them, but they felt solid and real against her. Louis gasped, feeling the weight of her arm against the wounds of his back. Fleur’s electricity crackled against Marigold’s back as she slammed into them like a tidal force. The blow was strong enough to push them all off their feet and throw them down towards the floor.
Marigold’s chest seized as she felt the now familiar sensation of the molecules of the floor opening up to take her in. Get them out. Marigold used her need as a mantra, throwing the whole weight of her frantic need behind it. Get them out. She tried to summon up a location in her mind, someplace that she wanted to end up. But as the name ‘Cypress’ repeated in her head all she could conjure up was a mental image of the bayou. Calm and still, the sunset dancing across the water as a mighty cypress tree rose up like phoenix from the flames. She clung to the thought as she tumbled once more into the abyss, dragging Louis and the woman with her.
***
Louis broke the surface of the water with a desperate gasp. Swamp scum tried to suck him back down. He struggled against the pull of the water and his staggered thoughts. Marigold. He had heard her. He knew he had. Did she bring you here? Was she the one that saved you? She wouldn’t have attacked him. Whatever the demon was putting her through, he couldn’t believe that it would corrupt her. She had been there. She had saved you. Now get out and save her.
Each movement was agony, opening the wounds across his back a little more with every stroke. He felt the weight of an arm curl around his chest, helping to keep him afloat so he could look around. A bayou. He was in a bayou. The shoreline wasn’t too far, littered with towering trees that fanned out to spread their roots wide. Nadia was already pulling herself onto one such tree. Louis froze at the sight and would have slipped under again if it weren’t for the arm that still held him tight. The arm that shouldn’t be there.
“Louis,” Nadia called from the back. She clutched a thick root with one hand and held the other out to him. But she wasn’t looking at him. Her wide eyes were fixed on a spot behind him. “Louis, you need to get out of the water. Now!”
The arm began to tug at him, dragging him until he forced his limbs to work. He stole a glance behind him. No more than a yard separated him from some drifting alligators and the animals had taken notice of him. They were coming closer. Louis kept moving, aware of every second that his blood was leaving a trail behind him. Nadia grew more frantic. It showed in the tremble of her hand, as if she was trying to draw him to her all the faster. He could hear them splashing behind him. The low throaty rumbles of them staking their claims. The phantom arm pulled and dragged, keeping his pace beyond what he would have been able to accomplish on his own. It didn’t abandon him until he grabbed Nadia’s hand.
“Those alligators aren’t going away,” Nadia said between panted breaths. “They’re still there!”
Louis shifted into a higher crook of the tree, hissing as his back pressed against the bark. “It’s okay.”
“How is this okay?” she snapped.
“It’s winter. Their metabolism slows and they don’t need to eat as much. They won’t be as aggressive.”
“What does ‘as aggressive’ mean?”
He let the back of his head fall back against the trunk. “That they won’t jump to get us?”
“Great,” she heaved. “So what do we do?”
“Wait for them to leave and then make a break for it,” he could barely make himself say those words. They needed to get back. It was a two hour drive already and every extra second brought the possibility that Ma was going to kill her. “Maggie, if you’re here, if that was you, thanks. But you have to get to Ma. Things are getting bad.”
“What did you say?” Nadia asked.
Louis shook his head, “Nothing I guess. I might just be talking to the wind.”
“You’re going to have to catch me up on what the hell just happened.”
“Transportation.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Then why ask?”
“I want to know how we were transported.”
“Oh.” The pain in his back flooded out to consume him, making it a struggle for his open eyes, and his breathing even. “I meant paranormal transportation. You would have heard of it. Ghosts moving things.”
“I’ve never heard of them moving people,” she said.
“It takes a lot of energy.”
“Was it the same one attacking you?”
“I don’t think so,” He swallowed thickly. “Did you hear Maggie?”
“You think you heard her again?”
“I think she helped us. Maybe she brought us here for a reason.”
“If this is where the kid is buried, we’re screwed. There is no way the body is intact.”
Louis let his eyes slide close as if he could keep the growing sense of helplessness at bay.
“What did she say?” Nadia asked abruptly.
“Cypress.”
Her sudden laughter made him peel his eyes open again and he turned towards her. Nadia scoffed and pulled a hand over her wet hair.
“Well, she called it,” she laughed before she slammed the trunk with two quick whacks. “Cypress tree.”
“Cypress.”
The water thrashed as something large moved under the surface. Louis sat up straight. His stomach churned with a sickening twist.
“I need something to draw with.”
His notes of desperation instantly grabbed her attention. She turned to him as the alligators began to thrash under the water.
“I don’t have anything, I left my purse at the plantation. Wherever that is.”
“It won’t be far,” Louis said as he searched for something that could make a mark on the tree. They needed a seal.
“How could you know that?”
“Because she’s still here.”
“Marigold?”
“Fleur.”
He reached behind himself and slicked his fingertips with his blood. The thin liquid stood stark against the pale bark and there was more than enough to complete the protection wards they needed.
“Fleur?” Nadia asked. “As in Fleur La Roux? How could you know that?”
“Because things are finally making sense.” As he completed the seal, the water exploded out. It slammed against something unseen and simmered into a mist. “There you are, Fleur.”
The steam created by the fog kept the ghost visible. Nadia pushed back harder against the trunk, her eyes flicking between the figure and Louis.
“She can’t touch us, right?”
“Not while the protection is in place.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “I knew there were rumors that she would kill her father’s bastard children. But why would this child matter?”
“Because papa La Roux named him Cypress.”
The notion was just a hunch until the moment it passed his lips. The water churned and thrashed. With a vicious roar, the ghost rushed the tree. It tattled on impact, hard enough to almost knock them from their perches. Louis grabbed Nadia, steadying them both as best he could and waited for the tremor to pass.
“If you’re going to tick off the murderous ghost, I’d like to be caught up. Philip La Roux was notorious for fathering children with his slaves. Why would calling him Cypress matter for anything?”
“Because it’s a La Roux family tradition that each female child is named after a flower or a plant,” Louis said.
Fleur rose up higher, her body solidifying before his eyes. Her hatred polluted the air until he felt like he was breathing oil. It confirmed, at least in his own mind, that his theory was right. Nadia shrunk back from the sight, her nails digging into the back as her eyes refused to blink. In her fear, she fell back on what gave her a sense of control. Even as she moved, she shot out questions like she was in a hostile interview.
“The tradition was that they only named the women after plants. Cypress is a boy’s name,” Nadia said.
Louis locked his eyes on Fleur as he answered. “Exactly.”
Nadia glanced between Louis and Fleur, trying to decipher the meaningful glares crackling between the two.
“What do you mean ‘exactly’?” Nadia snapped. “Louis, talk to me.”
“Phillip never claimed any of his bastard children as his own. Despite them having his blood, he never saw them as a real La Roux. They were cross-breed mongrels, nothing more.”
“That was kind of the way of the time,” Nadia said. “Claiming a bastard was social suicide. Claiming a slave born bastard? I don’t even have words to describe how that would have gone over.”
“I’m aware of that,” Louis cut in. Anger flooded Louis, building his disgust until he could throw each word at the ghost before him. “Philip probably went to great lengths to teach you that slaves were the lowest scum of the social hierarchy. He taught you that a slave’s only reason to exist was to satisfy your whims, didn’t he, Fleur? They were nothing. Barely human. And then he went and named one of his bastards Cypress.”
“He claimed the child,” Nadia said softly. “So she killed him? Why? Would he have been able to legally inherit?”
“It wasn’t about protecting her claim on the family fortune. It was all about her humiliation.” Louis clutched the tree trunk in an attempt to give his anger some kind of outlet. “The La Roux were a prominent family. Everyone knew the family’s tradition. I bet even all your slaves knew. They wouldn’t see Philip naming the child Cypress as an animal being called the wrong gender. They would know exactly what your father meant. He considered Cypress your equal. Not because he recognized Cypress as a human, a person, someone in possession of their own intelligence. But because he thought you weren’t. He was letting the world know that, in his eyes, you were worthless. That you were no better than the slaves he abused and murdered. No better than a bastard. A mongrel. What was it like? To have the people you owned know that, according to daddy dearest, you were one of them.”
Fleur raged at the comment. Bolts of energy snapped from her being and struck the water with an audible crack. The alligators thrashed as if in pain and quickly scattered, twisting wildly as they ducked under the surface. It took the full force of Louis’ will to keep him from cringing away.
“Everyone that Cypress ever met would know. It would be one more person who knew that Papa La Roux believed his bastard pet was the same as his true blood daughter. Philip made the child’s very existence an insult to you and you couldn’t handle it. So you killed him. Did you realize what you were doing? The hell that you would unleash?”
“The demon?” Nadia cut in. “By murdering Cypress, she summoned the demon?”
“Not summoned. Lured,” Louis said. “This is New Orleans, people are always playing with things that they shouldn’t. Back then, séances were used as a party trick. They pulled all sorts of things from the void. Normally, whatever came over couldn’t stay. Not without something tethering them here. And this demon likes to kill its hosts. Or at least bring about their destruction. No, it was already here, in this world, brought over by some idiot meddling with things beyond their understanding. When it killed its host, it would have been desperate to stay. It would have needed a constant source of power to prevent itself from being pulled back to hell. And then Fleur killed Cypress.”
“It kept Cypress’ spirit here?”
“No. Violent, meaningless death with unfinished business kept Cypress here,” he turned his glare onto the ghost once more. “Just like it keeps you here, right Fleur? Did you know what you were condemning him to? Did you care? Did you even know that he was haunting you?”
“Cypress was haunting Fleur?”
“He was haunting the family that he was stolen from,” Louis said. “The family that he could never be a part of. The demon latched onto that sorrow, that loss, that d
esperate need to not be alone, to be with his family. The demon manipulated his pain. It fed off of it like a leach.”
Fleur twisted and struck out against the protective bounds. Her rage crackled like wildfire and the tree trembled under the force. But Louis couldn’t stop himself. Now that he had started the words, he couldn’t keep them inside.
“They came for you, didn’t they?” Louis said.
“She was their first,” Nadia said in a low breath. “All this madness, all those deaths, the complete destruction of her family. It was all because she was jealous of a baby? Because daddy didn’t love her the best?”
“You had really believed killing him would change something, didn’t you? But it didn’t. You were still nothing. You’ll always be nothing.”
Fleur bellowed as she crashed into boundary once more. The bark splintered and the roots began to drive up from the mud. Again she slammed against it and the ground gave just a little more. One more strike and it began to fall back into the swamp.
Chapter 11
The floor was a snake pit. Every inch of the tiles were smothered under the slick writhing bodies. They heaved and pulsed, like the ground was breathing. Berret drew her weapon as the world began to shake. She heaved each breath but her hands remained solid, holding the gun in an unwavering grip. The demon continued to throw Marigold’s body against the boundary. Each impact resounded like the beat of a war drum as psychic energy crackled over the seal. Screams echoed in from all around them.
Both trapped in the waiting room, René and Cordelia struggled to keep the front area of the hospital from dissolving into chaos. René had bared the swinging doors, preventing the panicked witnesses from stumbling into the field of snakes. No one had come back to check on them since René and Cordelia had left. Ma hoped that it was because the immobile patients were of higher importance. Not because the demon had managed to bring in enough snakes to make moving about the hospital impossible.