Death Rites

by Theophilus Monroe

  “Erzulie,” I said. “You must stop this trial. Before someone else gets hurt.”

  Erzulie narrowed her eyes, cutting through me with a stare that could have pierced steel. “I appreciate what you did for Tressa, so I will pretend you did not just try to tell me how to run the Trials.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. How thick could that woman—if you could call her that—really be? I reached down and helped Tressa back to her feet.

  The whole crowd erupted in cheers. Again, they chanted my name… ANNABELLE… ANNABELLE… ANNABELLE….

  How did we ever become so popular? Isabelle asked.

  “I have no idea. But if they thought that was something, I’m pretty sure they’re in for a lot more before this trial is over.”

  I glanced at Agwe, who was looking over the crowd as they rhythmically chanted my name. He looked back at me and nodded. I don’t know what he was thinking—but it was at least nice to know that one of the Loa, other than Oggie, actually appreciated me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Dudley Dumont!” Erzulie declared as she stared at the small index card she’d drawn from the hat.

  “Here we go,” I said to Pauli, who had resumed his place on my shoulders. “Remember, distract. Give Dudley a chance to move. If he survives for ninety seconds, we only have one more competitor to see eliminated.”

  “You got it,” Pauli said.

  Dudley walked into the amphitheater. He looked like a martyr being fed to the lions by Caesar. He seemed that helpless. That powerless. Samedi gives his students some amazing powers, but they just aren’t worth much in combat—that is, unless there are a few corpses nearby that can be animated.

  I predicted his tactic accurately. His plan was to haul ass around the place for ninety seconds and pray to Bondye that he not end up squished.

  I shouted at the monster, “Hey beefcake! Look over here! Have any beads?”

  I wasn’t going to flash him my chest. But maybe it would work. What guy, no matter how crazy, wouldn’t turn for that?

  He did glance for a moment, but it wasn’t going to slow him down enough to keep him off Dudley’s trail.

  A part of me liked seeing Dudley in such a panic. After how he’d treated me the night I went to see Mikah, he hadn’t exactly left a strong impression on me. But personal feelings aside, we had to make sure he survived, we had to help him win.

  Pauli teleported himself to the beast’s feet—for just a split second before flying out of there again. The beast tumbled as he tripped over Pauli’s body. Pauli moved so quickly no one would know.

  The beast hit the ground, allowing Dudley to get a good twenty feet of separation from him.

  “Brilliant!” I exclaimed.

  “Tell me about it!” Pauli said as he appeared again on my shoulders.

  “What’ve we got, thirty seconds left?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Mikah, anything you can do? I mean, I was going to show him my breasts so—”

  “No you weren’t,” Pauli interrupted. “You’re a tease and everyone knows it.”

  “How would you know and why would you care? You’re gay.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good melon when in season.”

  I chuckled. “No time for jokes. We have to make sure he lasts.”

  Bakulu was gaining on Dudley. It was going to be a tight one. “I’m sorry,” Mikah said. “There’s nothing I can do. I’m strong, but short of going in there and trying to go toe-to-toe with him…”

  I sighed. “We just have to hope he has enough—”

  Dudley tripped on his own feet—like the clumsy oaf he was—and Bakulu was about to pounce on him when Agwe blew his conch shell, signaling the end of the round.

  The high-pitched sound distracted Bakulu enough that the men who’d handled his chains before were able to get ahold of him and restrain him before he could smash Dudley to a pulp.

  I smiled and extended my hand to Mikah, who slapped me five. Not the kind of gesture Isabelle would have approved of if she had the reins—but I preferred it to one of his cherry-flavored smooches.

  Not that Mikah was much help—but he was a part of this. I looked at Pauli.

  “Sorry, I’d slap you five too, but you know…”

  “Oh, you bitch!” Pauli chuckled.

  “Besides,” I said. “It’s too soon to celebrate. Sauron still has to go. I don’t know what we can do, but I’m pretty sure she isn’t strong enough to stop him.”

  Mikah shook his head. “She’s just a first-year. She’s good, but nothing she throws at this thing will faze him. He either eliminates her somehow, or we have to go another round with Dudley.

  I grimaced. Eliminate her? Like he eliminated Tressa? We were lucky Isabelle was able to heal her. If the spinal cord had been completely severed, if brain function left the body and she’d died before we got there, there wouldn’t have been anything Isabelle or I could do.

  I was still pissed at Sauron for killing Brayden. She would get what was coming to her. But a part of me still recoiled at the notion of her being pummeled by the monster. Not that she wouldn’t deserve it… but something still didn’t sit right we me about all of this.

  Sauron walked into the middle of the amphitheater. Bakulu was still being held by his chains. Sauron looked around. Her eyes met mine for a moment. Was that empathy in her eyes. Was it guilt? I don’t know. But she wanted to say something. She’d looked downright shocked when she took out Brayden, but it couldn’t have been an accident. You don’t evoke lightning like that, especially if you belong to College Sogbo, without controlling it precisely.

  Someone brushed against me from behind.

  “Excuse me,” the woman said.

  I looked at her as she walked by. Alexa Windstrom… Sauron’s mentor. I guess she wanted a front-row seat to support the competitor she’d nominated.

  I stepped aside to give her a little room.

  With another toot on his conch shell, Agwe signaled the beginning of the round.

  Sauron didn’t waste much time.

  She clenched her fist and screamed, hurling a lightning bolt at Bakulu.

  It struck him in the chest. It rattled him, but not nearly enough. Bakulu shook his head, fixed his eyes on Sauron, and charged.

  Sauron wasn’t exactly a gymnast—but she was nimble enough that she managed to roll out of the way.

  Bakulu twisted his body around, swinging one of the chains that was still tied to his arms at Sauron.

  It struck her in the legs, sending her to the ground.

  “Get up!” Alexa shouted beside me. “Focus on his head!”

  Sauron looked toward Alexa, nodded briefly, and quickly leapt to her feet just in time to narrowly avoid another swing from Bakulu’s chain.

  I have to admit, I was impressed by her athleticism. She never struck me as the fittest chick in the world, but looks can apparently be deceiving.

  Still, that last lightning bolt was probably the most she could muster, and it didn’t do much other than piss Bakulu off.

  Only about thirty seconds left, Isabelle said. I don’t think she’ll take him down, so we need to get ready for Dudley’s second attempt.

  I glanced toward Dudley along the sidelines. Maman Brigitte was gripping him by the shoulders, probably giving him some advice.

  Sauron was clearly just biding time now.

  “Focus on his chest!” Alexa shouted.

  I shook my head. Was Sauron really going to go for a second attack?

  I sense something… something about Alexa… her aura….

  I didn’t have time to react. I didn’t even know what to make of it.

  I glanced at Alexa, who was focused on Sauron, muttering something under her breath.

  I looked back at Sauron. The medallion around her neck began to glow. Then a barrage of lightning, wind, and rain—a whole fucking storm—gathered around Sauron’s body. Sauron threw her arms forward and shot what looked like a hurricane again
st Bakulu.

  When it struck him, the Loa flew back with a force unlike anything I’d ever seen and slammed against the wall of the auditorium before his body crashed into the crowd below him.

  People near the landing zone screamed—then everyone else cheered.

  I glanced at Alexa again—she was smirking this time. I gripped her arm.

  “What the fuck did you do.”

  Alexa shrugged me off. “What I had to do. And this time she hit the target I intended.”

  “You bitch! You killed Brayden.”

  “Count yourself lucky. It was meant for you.”

  “You’re working with Kalfu. Why would you?”

  “It’s none of your concern, Mulledy. Sauron has won. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “I can try.”

  Alexa shrugged. “Think Erzulie will believe you? By all means, go tattle.”

  I pushed Mikah aside—not forcefully, just enough to give myself room.

  “Beli!” I shouted. The hilt of my blade formed in my hand. I lunged at Alexa.

  She lifted a finger, and a torrent of wind caught my hand, sending my blade flying before it dissipated in thin air.

  “Fuck!” I shouted.

  Alexa laughed. “Nice try, first-year.”

  I tried to summon Beli again, but Alexa had disappeared in the crowd.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sauron won. But it wasn’t Sauron’s fault. She was working with her mentor—just as I had done, in truth. If Sauron only knew… If she knew what Alexa was up to. If there was only a way to reach her, to get to her and tell her. Would she believe it? She’d probably just say I was jealous that I didn’t win. Not to mention, not even Pauli could get to her now. Not with Erzulie all over her.

  “We have a winner! I present to you our next High Mambo! Sauron Lemursia!”

  The crowd roared.

  I couldn’t stop Alexa. She was too powerful. I couldn’t get to Sauron. I’d failed. Mikah trailed behind me like a puppy, wanting to help. But there was nothing he could do either. Pauli landed on my shoulders.

  I sighed. “It’s over, Pauli. We lost.”

  “Bitch, please. Sauron won. But that’s not the end.”

  “It wasn’t just Sauron, Pauli. It was Alexa. She is the one working with Kalfu.”

  “Well slap me sideways and call me a python!”

  “Did you come up with that just now?”

  “I did. It’s good, right?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t stop Alexa. I tried. She’s too strong. Too advanced. Even with my abilities. Even if I let Isabelle take over, I’m not sure we could stop her completely.”

  “And when did long odds ever keep you from trying, girl?”

  “I’ve never bought a lottery ticket.”

  “Bitch, I’m trying to make a point. Don’t get all literal on me now.”

  I chuckled. “Sorry.”

  “Here’s the truth, girl. Sauron won. So what. She can be High Mambo. Good for her. What we have to stop isn’t her becoming High Mambo. What we have to stop is Nico’s soul being fused with hers.”

  I bit my lip. Pauli had a point. I remembered the picture in Death Rites… the picture of Beli. I couldn’t summon the dragon in all his glory here, but I could summon him as a weapon. And a long-range weapon, at that. If I could just get a clear shot at Nico’s urn.

  I couldn’t get to Sauron. But maybe I could get to Dudley. He wasn’t far away, and technically he wasn’t eliminated. He just didn’t win. He had a better chance than I did, anyway.

  I still had the doll I’d used before tucked in my pocket. You know, just in case. I squeezed it a little. I could see from across the auditorium that his eyes glowed a little. Green, not red. Good, he’s the one I needed to contact. I hadn’t done it before—but supposedly a skilled Mambo can just talk to a doll to influence someone.

  “Baron, can you hear me? Lift one of Dudley’s arms if you can.”

  He lifted his right arm.

  “It’s Alexa Windstrom. She used that medallion that Sauron is wearing to channel her power to her. She’s working with Kalfu for some reason. She intends to take Sauron to him after this is over. After Erzulie fuses her with Nico’s soul.”

  I could still see his green eyes looking back at me.

  “I know there isn’t much you can do in this form to stop it. But can you try to make a clearing. I just need a clean shot from where I’m at to wherever Nico’s urn will be. I have to take it out.”

  He couldn’t respond, but he raised his arm again to signal he’d heard me.

  This was a long shot. I’d have to summon Beli again, as a crossbow. Since it worked before with Brayden, since I’d let go of my anger and fear, I had a chance. It was a remote one, but it was a shot I had to take. I wasn’t sure how much of Dudley was Dudley and how much was the Baron—but at least I had someone in the know, someone up front who could give me a clean shot.

  Erzulie gathered Sauron up front. Dudley was nearby as the runner-up. I wasn’t sure if he got a second-place ribbon or something. Hell, I didn’t get my participation trophy. What the fuck kinda competition is this without participation trophies? Wasn’t this all about having fun anyway? Yeah, right… loads of fun.

  I had to keep an eye out for Alexa—she had to be nearby, doing whatever she could to make sure the transfer of Nico’s soul went down without a hitch. I’m not sure what Kalfu had on her, but I was almost completely certain he’d bound her with a bargain. That was his style—and it was likely a bargain she’d been tricked in to. She was a pawn, and Sauron was the pawn’s pawn.

  I had to let go of the anger… that’s what Brayden said. I’d almost given in to it when I tried to take Alexa down. Thankfully I didn’t succeed. I could have stopped all this by just removing Alexa, sending her directly to Guinee, but that wasn’t the right way. The death rites must be completed… that’s what Laveau had written. That’s what I had to do.

  This hadn’t gone the way Erzulie had hoped, either. Clearly, she’d wanted Tressa to win—but apparently there were limits to her charms, if you could call what she did at all charming. Sauron was the winner—even if she couldn’t be credited with the spell that gave her the victory. She wouldn’t be as easy for Erzulie to control once she had Nico’s soul and his power inside of her. Either way, Erzulie’s plan was going to fail—either because Kalfu would soon claim her, and Nico’s soul along with her, or because I’d stop them.

  There was only one choice…

  Erzulie brought out the urn, which had been veiled in a thick, black pall. It was embossed with Baron Samedi’s veve—a cross flanked by two gravestones.

  She removed the pall.

  “Beli,” I whispered.

  I felt the crossbow form in my hands. It felt solid. My grip was sure. I could do this.

  I held my soul weapon in front of me, lest anyone get keen to what I was about to do and try to take me out. This was a crowded auditorium, and I’d have to act quickly. If anyone caught me aiming a weapon at the headmistress and the new High Mambo, it wouldn’t be long before they’d try to take me down or alert the whole place. Subterfuge was in order.

  I continued moving around the perimeter of the auditorium, trying to get a good shot at the urn. Erzulie was holding it too close to her chest. I wanted to hit the urn, not assassinate the headmistress. Not that my bolt would kill her. Not exactly. But if it so much as grazed the skin of her host, it would immediately send her into Guinee. I couldn’t take the shot. Not yet.

  “According to tradition, the winner of the Trials is accorded a unique blessing. One that should equip her to lead us as one, to guide us against the foe we face.”

  I rolled my eyes. If Erzulie only knew how foolish this was…

  “In honor of the one these Trials were called to honor, it is thus fitting that the victor should be granted a gift from the deceased. More than a gift, his very soul.”

  Gasps fell from the crowd. Soul-fusing—that’s Bokor shit, not the
kind of stuff that most of them approved of. I grinned slightly. At least I’d have support, after this was over… even if I did earn Erzulie’s wrath. Provided, of course, that I succeeded.

  “It is further only appropriate that Mr. Freeman’s best friend would be the one granted this blessing.”

  Sauron’s jaw was practically on the floor. She didn’t foresee this… No one had. Except for Marie Laveau. But I was ready. If only Dudley, or the Baron, or whoever was in control of Dudley’s body at the moment, could get me a shot. Somehow.

  I don’t know if Erzulie suspected something or if she was just being cautious with the urn, but she kept that thing as close to her chest as she could.

  She’d have to hand it to Sauron; she’d have to open it. When Isabelle was fused with me, the moment the locket that held her spirit touched my skin I felt the change. That, combined with the magic that the Caplata had cast into it.

  The magic…

  That the Caplata had taken from… Oh fuck. From Baron Samedi.

  And I’d called him here… evoked a sliver of the Baron’s essence in Dudley’s body. No wonder Erzulie had allowed the runner-up to be so close to the winner. She needed him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  What if Death Rites wasn’t telling me what I should do, but only predicting what would happen? I’d been looking to it for advice, when I should have been looking to the book as a warning.

  The doll… Mercy was the one who’d pointed me to that page. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her. But I did trust Brayden, and he’d interpreted what that page in the book meant. But why would Marie Laveau, or Mercy for that matter, want this to happen if she knew Kalfu would get Nico’s power? That didn’t make sense either.

  And it was the green Baron who’d appeared. I wasn’t sure what side of all this Mercy was on, but one thing was certain: Erzulie was in league with the Bokors.

  No fear…

  All hope…

  That’s how to keep the green Baron at the forefront of his aspect and the red Baron subdued.

  But looking at Sauron’s face right now… she was terrified. This wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t what she thought was going to happen. I could practically see her fear overtake her as Erzulie showed her the urn.