by Judith Post
Morgana lifted her head, wobbled it, and returned to her prone position.
Babet sighed, fetched her keys, and headed west—past the city and surburbs to a small town of scratch farmers who grew okra, soybeans, cotton, and rice. The address Marcel’s girlfriend had given her was on the far side of town, a rundown house with a sagging porch and peeling paint.
Babet pulled into the driveway and walked toward the back door. A dog lay on the back stoop, an oversized mutt of indistinguishable color—maybe brown, maybe just dirty. It raised its head and whined, tried to stand and huffed back down to the ground.
“You okay, boy?” Babet studied it warily. Was it hurt? It tried to raise its head a second time. Couldn’t, it was too weak.
She looked at the kitchen door, hanging on its hinges. A blast mark blackened its center. Magic. She scooted past the dog and stepped inside the house. The kitchen table was overturned. Chairs were thrown to the far corners. Dirty glasses were toppled and broken. It looked as though a dirt devil hit the room. And vines were growing everywhere, clinging to the kitchen cabinets and dangling from the overhead light. Babet inhaled. The kitchen smelled like the rich, moist foliage of a jungle.
She started to the refrigerator, cracked it open and sniffed at a plate of leftovers. Still tolerable. She was carrying them out to the dog when she heard a muffled sound coming from the basement. She gave the dog its food, then returned to the house, went to the door that led to the cellar, and raised both arms, ready to shoot energy. “Open,” she whispered, and the door creaked wide. A man fell forward, on his knees, and began to cry in relief.
“Are you all right?” Babet didn’t approach him. He looked healthy enough, but maybe a little delirious.
“I thought it would be weeks before someone came looking for me,” he finally said. “Thank you, lady, whoever you are.”
She helped him stand. “What happened here?”
He rubbed a hand across a knot on his forehead. “Damned if I know. I heard a car pull in the drive, yelled to Marcel that we had company. The next thing I knew, I was walking in the kitchen to open the door and a blast knocked me clean across the room.” He touched the knot again. “Must have knocked me out. I woke up on the dirt floor of the cellar, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get this stupid door to open.” He kicked at the basement door.
“Someone sealed it with magic,” Babet told him.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Then how did you open it?”
“I’m a witch.”
He started to back up. “Now look here, woman, I don’t know what Marcel did to make y’all mad, but I had nothing….”
Babet didn’t let him finish. “I came here looking for him. Two women went missing. I thought he might know something.”
The man grabbed a toppled chair, put it upright, and sank onto it. He gazed at the foliage that filled his kitchen. “Dad gum, this ain’t fair. This is my house. I didn’t do nothing to nobody. She must have taken Marcel.”
“You saw her? You know it’s a woman we’re looking for?”
He shook his head. “Nope, but when I think of magic, I think of women.”
“Did whoever it was leave you to die?” Babet looked at him. He looked a lot better than his dog did.
“Nah, I have a freezer down there and all kinds of canned goods, but I didn’t much like being stuck there for days.”
Babet went to the vines climbing his cabinets. She inhaled their scent. She shook her head. “This is some kind of magic that I don’t know.”
“Can you wave a hand and get rid of all this green crap?”
“I can try.” When her chant ended, the vines began to wither and die. “I don’t do clean up. If you’re all right now, I have people to meet.”
“You aren’t even going to tell me your name, after saving me?”
She shrugged. “Names have power. It’s better if you don’t know.”
He raised his hands in the air. “Hey, whatever you say. But thanks. I could have been down there a long time. I don’t go into town much. It would take people a minute to miss me.”
The dog on the stoop wagged its tail when she passed it. “Take care, boy.” Then she hopped in her car and drove for home.
* * *
Evangeline and Nadine showed up at supper time too. It surprised Babet. She didn’t think Nadine left the settlement any more than she had to. Babet told them her news while they shared the muffuletta. Prosper made happy noises while he ate.
When they finished, Babet brought them all another beer to carry to the back courtyard. The air was less humid tonight, more of a caress. People walked up and down the sidewalk in front of her house, but their noises were muffled by a small, water fountain she’d installed in a corner of the patio.
Prosper frowned. “The only time I’ve heard of vines like you described was when I watched the old Batman movie with Poison Ivy.”
Babet nodded. “It was sort of like that.”
“That’s Juju magic,” Nadine said.
Evangeline gave her mother a sideways glance. “I thought you said Juju was like Karma, good or bad luck.”
Nadine leaned back in a lawn chair, slipped off her sandals, and rubbed her toes over Morgana’s back. The snake sighed with pleasure. “Only old, old witch doctors have the power to do more.”
“Like what?” Evangeline twisted her pinkie ring, nervous.
“There are curses, bad ones. Like diseases and wasting away.”
“And vines?” Prosper’s voice held doubt.
Nadine stretched her legs and tipped her head, letting the sun warm her, much like the snake’s pose. Her white-white skin was spattered with freckles—and Babet was struck by how exotic the woman looked with her ebony hair braided into thick plaits and her eyes so dark, they sometimes seemed black. Bracelets always jangled at her wrists. “Marcel didn’t get the full curse, not when he was in his friend’s house, or the entire kitchen would be overgrown. He only got part of one.”
“What kind of curse?” Babet asked.
Nadine’s lush lips curved into a smile. “A swamp curse. Marcel will look the slime he is.”
Evangeline grimaced. “You mean he’s turning into a thing?”
“Like the old horror movies—swamp creature?” Prosper shook his head in disbelief. “No one can really do that, can they?”
Nadine gave a careless shrug. “Babet saw the vines. Someone magicked them. Someone old and powerful with lots of Juju.”
Babet didn’t think about curses often. Her coven practiced white magic. Voodoo and Juju made her uncomfortable. Their good and bad energies seemed to ebb and flow, according to the situation. Black magic was more acceptable. But once a person dipped her toe into those dark waters, wasn’t the pool muddied forever?
Nadine arched a brow, watching the expressions flit across Babet’s face. The woman could tell what she was thinking, she knew. “You’re such an innocent, child, like my Evangeline.”
Babet changed the subject. Nadine had a way of making her feel like a naïve novice. It unsettled her. “Okay, if you’re right and Marcel is a hideous monster now, what happened to Delphine and Ines?” She wasn’t sure how much sympathy she felt for Marcel, but if the women were still alive, she wanted to save them.
Nadine’s forehead wrinkled. “They’re not dead. I called for them. They didn’t come.”
“That leaves room for a lot of other things.” Babet took a long draught of her beer. The water splashing in the fountain usually calmed her, but tonight, it made her think of swamps and bogs. “You don’t think someone’s turned them into plant people, do you?”
A fierce light glimmered in Nadine’s eyes. “Ines is one of ours. If someone harmed her, he’ll beg to release the curse.”
Babet rubbed her arms, even though the air was warm. What would a battle between voodoo and Juju entail? She didn’t want to know.
Prosper finished his beer and rose to get another one. “There’s another possibility. What if Marcel dragged them
off to make them help him with their magic?”
A better option. Babet relaxed a little and handed Prosper her empty bottle. He raised an eyebrow and she gave a quick nod. A plus to having magic was that it took a lot to get tipsy.
Evangeline jumped to her feet, ready for action. “Come on then. Let’s go! Marcel has to have them around water somewhere. Let’s find them.”
Her mother patted Evangeline’s empty chair. “Sit. Relax. Why would we do what our spirits can? We’ll send Manette with a few others.”
Babet might not be fond of the female spirit with the downturned lips, but Manette definitely proved useful on occasion.
“No, wait.” Babet tried to remember what her mother and Hennie had told her. It seemed like she’d visited them forever ago, but it was earlier today. “The owls know.” She explained what she’d learned.
Nadine shielded her eyes with her hand and looked at the lowering sun. “Can you call them to you? Or is it too early?”
“They’d rather I waited ‘til dark. They could lead us to where they’ve seen Marcel.”
Nadine sat up, now ready for action. “Evangeline and I need to return to the settlement. Could you meet us there to call your owls?”
Babet squirmed. The settlement made her nervous. Prosper came back outside and handed her another beer.
“I left the French doors open so I could hear you guys. Owls, huh?” He rested a hand on Babet’s shoulder, then looked at Nadine. “Are you planning on taking an army into the swamps?”
“No, just a few of us. Evangeline should stay at the settlement, in case something comes up. You…” She looked directly at Babet. “…should come with us. We might need witch magic, as well as our own. If the Juju witch doctor, instead of Marcel, has Ines, things could get messy.”
Messy, she could handle. Ugly, she wasn’t so sure about, but Babet gave a quick nod. If Nadine thought she needed her, she’d go, even though she hated swamps, didn’t like bogs, and wasn’t too sure about voodoo.
“I’m going too.” Prosper drained his beer, reached for Babet’s hand to help her out of her lawn chair.
Nadine ran a knowing eye over his physique. Not lusting. Speculating. “I’ve seen you turn into a bear.”
“That’s me.” He rested his hands on his hips, ready to argue if she tried to turn him down.
Nadine shrugged. “Bears are good, especially one your size. Gators don’t bother them.” She pushed out of her chair and started for the door, motioning for Evangeline to follow her. “Meet us as soon as you can.” Her lips curved into a smile as she looked at Babet. “There’ll be lots of mosquitoes. You might not want to wear a little skirt.”
Babet exhaled in disgust. “I’m a witch. No mosquito will bite me.”
Prosper turned to her in surprise. “Really?”
“Has one bitten you since I gave you your ring?”
He gave a slow grin. “Come to think of it, no.”
“What good are spells if they don’t make life easier?”
Nadine shook her head at them. “Change anyway. A short skirt’s a distraction, especially for him.”
Prosper deliberately ran his gaze up and down Babet. “She’s right. I am a leg man.”
Among other things. Babet hadn't noticed anything that didn't attract his attention.
Nadine laughed, amused. “See you tonight. Gather your strongest magic. We might need it.”
The good mood evaporated. Babet watched Nadine and Evangeline walk to their cars and pull from the curb. She sighed. “I’ve never fought Juju before.”
Prosper came to stand behind her, spooning his body to hers. “Neither have I.”
They left it at that. They’d drive to Nadine’s settlement and go from there. Neither knew how to prepare.
* * *
Only a rim of rosy light tinged the sky when Babet and Prosper followed the river toward the swamplands and Nadine’s house. The settlement bumped against the slow-moving, muddy waters, but Nadine's pumpkin-orange, two-story sat in the center of the small community. Nadine and four friends stood on its front porch and came to greet them.
Nadine gestured toward the two women on her right. “Atsila and Hachi, Cherokee and Seminole.” She gestured to her left. She didn’t have to give a heritage. “Dashika and Elodia.” A woman with midnight-black skin grinned at them, along with a short, plump Hispanic woman.
Prosper looked surprised. “Do you have every ethnic group in your settlement?”
“We’re working on it, sweet thing.” Dashika looked him up and down. “Looks like your mama passed a little of every gene on to you.”
He winked. “I’m the best of everything, all rolled into one.”
“And don’t you know it?” Dashika said. “You look mighty pleased with yourself.”
He reached for Babet’s hand, surprising her. “It’s because I’ve found someone who brings out the good in me.”
“Aw, honey, you’re taken? I have a daughter that would rock your world.” Dashika laughed at his shocked expression. “Don’t you run and hide, Mr. Detective. My girlfriends and I won’t eat you. Your woman here might hurt us. She’s the witch lady, right?”
Nadine nodded toward Prosper. “Be on your best behavior, girls. Our detective is a Were-shifter too.”
“Mmm, mmm, mmm, the man has it all. What you turn into, handsome?” Dashika studied every inch of him. “Don’t tell me you become a big dog.”
“I have the spirit of the bear,” he said.
“Lordy, I’d like to see that. Better yet, I'd like to see you change back.” She gave a wicked grin. "You'd be in your birthday suit, right? Clothes couldn't hold you in."
Nadine cut them off. “Enough chitchat. Babet, can you call the owls to you? The sun sank. Will they come?”
Babet raised her arms and sang a chant. Within minutes, three owls flew toward them. “Can you show us where the monster is?” she asked them.
The owls turned to lead the way, circling overhead, to give them time to keep pace. They ended up at a swampy area a little south of the settlement. With shrill hoots, the owls left them.
The moon was nearly full. Its beams hit the green slime of the water, mixing with mists, to turn the air a sickish yellow. Its glow backlit dead tree stumps, sticking out of the water, and old cypress trees near the shoreline. Babet wrinkled her nose against the fetid smell. It was easy to believe a swamp monster might live here.
As that thought occurred to her, something moved through the water. A fishing boat glided toward shore, its oars barely audible as they dipped in and out of the water. She squinted to get a good view of the person manning the boat. As he moved out of the shadow of a tree, and moonlight struck him, a knot lumped in her throat. Her breath hitched in her chest. His face was partially human—smooth, coffee-colored skin on his high forehead, a sharp cheekbone, and the bridge of his nose, but the skin on his other cheek and jawline appeared almost amphibian—green and supple. Vines and algae clung to his upper arms and torso. His lower body was hidden in shadows.
Marcel?
Nadine motioned for them to hide. She pressed a finger to her lips for silence. They waited and watched. The man steered his boat to a small shack on the east side of the water. A long pier stretched out into the water. He moored the boat to it.
When he stepped onto the narrow boards of the pier, Babet saw that his thighs were tangles of vines, but the calves of his legs were human. The curse must have hit him in the chest. It seemed to be spreading from there. His biceps were draped in green—his forearms and hands fairly normal.
He walked to the shack and opened the door. Light spilled from the cramped room, and Babet could see the shapes of two women moving from the stove to the table. She frowned. They weren’t tied or chained, so why were they there? Why didn’t they run?
Marcel stepped inside and shut the door behind him. There were two, narrow windows facing the front porch, but their curtains were pulled shut.
Prosper and the women huddled for a confere
nce. “What’s the deal?” Babet asked. “The women were moving around. Why didn’t they take off while Marcel was gone?”
Nadine pointed to stakes hammered into the ground, circling the shack. Babet couldn’t make out what they were for. They seemed to have an odd shape. “Monkey skulls,” Nadine said in a low voice. “You can buy them at Juju shops. He put one on each stake. He’s magicked a talisman on each woman that they can’t take off. If they pass the skulls, something bad will happen.”
Babet locked gazes with Prosper. Apparently, Marcel knew more Juju than people expected.
“We can pass them, right?” Dashika asked.
Nadine gave a grim smile. “Yes, we can.”
"And him?" Atsila pointed toward Prosper.
He held up the ring Babet had magicked for him.
Nadine started to circle the swamp toward the shack. Babet and the others followed her. It took a while. They stayed farther back from the shores than usual, as alligators slid into the water, away from them. It made them tread carefully.
When they reached the clearing that was meant as a yard, Nadine waited for them to gather before striding toward the porch. Prosper went first. He kicked the door open, then they rushed in behind him. Babet took a fighter's pose, ready to blast her magic. Marcel jumped to his feet and held up his hands in surrender.
Fists on hips, Ines glared at him. “I told you they’d come, idiot. I told you they’d find us.”
He glared at Nadine. “How? How did you find me? I hid my magic, contained it in the circle of the yard.”
“Monkey skulls work for Juju, not for witch magic.” Nadine flicked a finger toward Babet. “She helped us find you, and now that we have, you'd better start talking.” She gave a slow smile. “And make it good. You stole from our settlement. Convince us not to leave pieces of you on the shore for ‘gator food.”
His whole body sagged. “Everything happened because of Rosita.”
Ines’ temper flared, but before she could berate him, he held up his hands again—this time in resignation. “I know, I’ve been awful to women. But not Rosita. This time is different. I got a job.”