Arcanorum

by C. L. Bevill

  “If Adrienne Viqc is the Noir, then she owns earth magic. Dark magic but not black.” Christien looked at the sky, patently looking for a lightning bolt to hit him. “Maybe she needs a place where the cities aren’t. There needs to be a strong connection for her to work her magic within. That’s a lot of bayou land to look in for a witch.”

  Jane stared at Philippe. “It’s like I said. Adrienne is a master of many magics. And she wants us to find her. She probably wants us to find her in a place where she can easily control me.”

  Christien stirred uncomfortably. You want to entice her into coming for you, when all she has to do is say a word, and she will control you?

  I’m thinking about how to break the curse. Jane glanced at Christien. I’m thinking that Philippe has a truck, and we can use that instead of catching the bus. I’m thinking I’m tired of being the victim. She won’t expect us to attack her.

  The bus doesn’t go to the bayous, Christien thought resigned.

  Exactly.

  “Philippe!” she said.

  Philippe smiled. He waited for Jane and Christien to approach. “I know you tole me not to bother, but I couldn’t he’p myself. Sleeping in that warehouse, all by yourself, with just dat big dog.” He looked around suspiciously. “Where’s the dog?”

  “Resting,” Jane said before Christien could say anything.

  “You look a bit better today, you,” Philippe said. “I don’t know what kind of trouble ya’ll be in, but it’s like a nest of wasps, and those babies don’t stop stinging. Titus Perdue calling me, ‘Do I know where you be at?’ Ol’ smooth-talking Titus worried on the phone. Worried, him! Saying you stole something from the Barbeau Building. Hell no you didn’t have anyt’ing but that big damn dog. Dog don’t look like somet’ing you take, neither. Not like one of those fancy show dogs, that.”

  “I guess you didn’t tell Titus anything,” Jane said.

  “Of course I did not.” Philippe pursed his lips. Then he said, “Flor castrate me if I spill the beans about all of Titus’s illegal workers. Man pays the salary of a couple hundred souls on a regular basis. If he sells out one of his workers, he won’t get no more, no how. Flor don’t get paid, she don’t send money home to her mamacita. Flor be plumb angry wit’ me. Doesn’t want to get involved with all this nonsense, me.”

  “Obviously, you can’t help yourself,” Christien said dryly.

  Philippe stepped closed to Jane. “Who in the devil is this?” he asked as he looked Christien over.

  “This is Christien,” she said. “Christien, this is Philippe. Philippe’s saved me on a few separate occasions. Got me out of the hospital when someone was going to simply take me. He got me into Titus’s for work.” She glanced at Christien and added silently, Philippe didn’t know Titus would sell me out. And he was there last night for us.

  “Appreciate that,” Christien said softly.

  Philippe stuttered, intimidated by Christien’s challenging stance. “Jane seems like a right proper sort. Ain’t right of folks to take advantage of a woman on account of the fact dat she can’t remember a stitch from a match.”

  “We need a ride,” Jane said. “I’ll pay for gas.”

  “I ain’t gonna get into no trouble, me?” Philippe said.

  “Maybe,” Jane said. “The rescuing thing last night might be big trouble for you. If the owners of the building ask Titus does he know someone with a beat-up Ford F-150, Titus might say, ‘Why yes, Philippe has one like that. I see him with Flor.’ That would be big trouble.”

  “Well, dang,” Philippe said. “I didn’t t’ink of dat when I saw you running like a gal with a bunch of trouble biting at your backside.”

  “If we get a ride, we might be able to fix it,” Christien said.

  Christien, Jane protested. You can’t say that.

  Break the curse, the witch won’t be interested in Philippe anymore. She won’t be interested in anything.

  “I’ll call Flor’s place and leave a message,” Philippe muttered. “Tell her to say she ain’t wit’ me no more, her. Pick her up later and explain everyt’ing.” He walked about ten feet away and broke out his cell phone.

  Where are we going?

  Would you believe to see a little boy?

  Christien blinked.

  * * *

  The mailbox announced the name, Therin, indicating they were in the right place. The yard was large and freshly mowed. Although it had been recently mowed, there was still an abundance of toys, to include two bicycles, a plastic child-sized picnic table, and an assortment of Cabbage Patch Kids lined up in a loose semicircle. The house was nondescript but neatly painted white with a blue trim. Everything looked new, and Jane wondered if Katrina had put the older house down like a mad dog.

  The boy was young, younger than Jane remembered. He dashed out into the yard with an oversized plastic weapon and proceeded to shoot Nerf darts at the arrangement of Cabbage Patch Kids. All the dolls fell over, having been massacred by the foam and plastic implements.

  The boy threw the Nerf gun heavenward and whooped like a savage. His light blonde hair flew in the air. His bright blue eyes sparkled with intent. Thin and wiry with childhood muscles, he was all trucks, snails, and puppy-dog tails in glorious Technicolor.

  Jane got out of the truck and began walking toward the boy. She hoped she could speak with him for a few minutes before his mother found them out. Mothers weren’t likely to allow a woman who had been wearing handcuffs to speak with their babies.

  The boy caught sight of her and stared. The plastic Nerf gun lowered and pointed loosely in her direction. He might shoot at any moment. Jane hesitated. Do Nerf darts hurt?

  Christien didn’t respond, but she could feel the laughter in her head. It was a welcome respite from his moodiness that had resulted from taking a ride from Philippe.

  “Hey,” Jane said. “Do you remember me?”

  The boy nodded. His name, she remembered, was Bobby Therin.

  “You’re the girl from the car. The one who strangled that guy right there in city traffic,” he said, and it wasn’t exactly an accusation.

  “That man hurt me, and I wanted to get away from him,” Jane said plainly.

  Bobby nodded. “I can understand that. But you know he got up and screamed after you.” He laughed. “Said some very bad words. My mother just about died.” He looked around to see if his mother was about. When he ascertained she was not, he added in a conspiratorial manner, “Although she says some of those words, too.”

  “Yes, I know about the man. I also read the bit in the newspaper about you,” Jane said.

  Bobby swaggered. “I got ten copies,” he said. “I’ve never had my name in the paper before. My best friend, Ship, was so jealous, he went home and barfed up his Wheaties.” He held up his right hand as if swearing an oath. “True story.”

  “Did you know that I’ve lost my memory?” Jane asked gently.

  “Ma explained about the ‘nesia,” Bobby said earnestly. “I never saw a lady run that fast before. You must have been awfully frightened of the man.”

  “I was so frightened I didn’t watch where I was going, which is why I got hit by the Jeep,” Jane said. “I wanted to thank you for speaking up about me.”

  Bobby shrugged. “Ma thought I was lying. But I finally convinced her. Those po-licemen who came by, they weren’t really impressed at all. They listened to me and didn’t even care that I saw everything. They said the license plate number I wrote down was wrong. Really wrong.” He shuffled his feet. “They wouldn’t show me their guns either.”

  Jane wondered if it was the same two detectives who had visited her in the hospital. The two had already worked it out in their heads what the scenario had been and clearly didn’t want to bother with a new one.

  What are you hoping for, chère? came Christien’s thoughts. The child’s only, what, ten years old? He’s probably not going to remember much about it.

  I thought— Jane thought as soon as she’d seen the article that
perhaps there was a clue there about who she really was. Now she knew the identity of the witch, Adrienne Viqc, and she knew that Raoul had been Adrienne’s nephew. He’d begged her in the parking garage. He’d called her tante. She knew who they were, but she still didn’t know who she was nor did Christien.

  In the moments after Jane had come awake in the back of the sedan, after her assault on Raoul’s neck with the handcuffs, she had been horribly aware of the boy’s frank examination. He hadn’t just watched; he’d been engrossed with the scene.

  But something made Jane’s mind come back to the boy. Something tickled her deep inside. A little finger poked at her brain and whispered words there. The boy. Something about the boy.

  I suppose you’re right, Jane thought tiredly. What can a ten-year-old know? Not to mention a week and a half after the fact?

  Glancing over her shoulder, Jane saw both Christien and Philippe peering out at them. Philippe’s expression was both curious and blasé. Christien, on the other hand, had an intense look on his face. He was staring at her with open-mouthed intent. His eyes were narrowed, focusing on the situation. But no, he wasn’t staring at her. He was staring at the child.

  You feel something inside you, chère? he asked. Something like a feeling but more than that? It’s a need to follow-up. Something that won’t let you go, am I correct?

  Jane nodded shortly.

  Keep talking to the boy.

  “Would you tell me what you saw, Bobby?” Jane asked as she turned back to the child.

  Bobby flashed a smile. “We were caught in traffic. Ma was trying to figure out how to use the GPS, but she’s no good at those kinds of things. I looked over at the car you were in and saw you hit the man. At first I thought you were a criminal because you had handcuffs on. Like on TV shows. Only criminals wear handcuffs or those plastic tie things.”

  Not all of them.

  “You throttled that man something fierce,” Bobby said. He fiddled with his Nerf gun. “Then he went all still. I thought he was dead. I’ve never seen someone who was dead before. You got out of the car. You almost fell down. That’s when I saw your gold eyes.” He smiled up at her, gazing at her eyes. “They really are gold. My mother said I was imagining that. She said no one’s got gold eyes.”

  Jane smiled back.

  “You ran. Ran really fast. Took off like a deer.” Bobby looked Jane up and down. “I guess you were scared. If that man had hurt me, I would have hit him in the cojones.” He pretend aimed his Nerf weapon at the absent Raoul and uttered a few sound effects for good measure. “That’s what my father tells me to do if some stranger grabs me. Yell as loud as I can and hit him in the cojones. Do you know what cojones is?”

  Jane nodded. “I should have hit the man in the cojones.”

  “Then the man woke up, and that really freaked me out because I thought he was dead.” Bobby mock aimed the Nerf weapon again as if Raoul was within his sights.

  “It freaked me out, too,” Jane said.

  “But traffic was packed, stacked, and a la racked. He didn’t look like he wanted to run after you. He didn’t even get out of the car. He got on his cell phone, too. Made a few calls.” Bobby nodded firmly. “I knew he wasn’t a cop, then. Because if he’d been a cop he would have put the portable flashing light doohickey on top of his roof and driven off after you. He would have called for back-up, too. Instead he sat there in traffic like a big doofus. When it started to move a little later, he turned left as soon as he could. Went back down toward Violet.”

  “You mean down Highway 39?”

  “Ma calls it East Judge Perez, but I don’t know the number.”

  “Not much else down here but Violet,” Jane gently probed.

  “There are big boats at the dock,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to the west. “It’s only two blocks that way. Ship and me go watch all the time.”

  Jane looked over his shoulder. She could see the towers of a tall freighter through some trees. Violet was situated right on the edge of the Mississippi River. “Anything else?”

  “Poydras is down south a few miles,” Bobby said, jerking his thumb in the proper direction. “That’s another little town. Then you can go either left or right. If you go right, you follow the river down. Lots of little ports along there. Not many houses. Just business stuff. Dad has taken us down there a couple times, all the way to the end. Once we went by Uncle Henry’s boat. Last summer we crossed the river and followed the road all the way to the mouth of the Mississippi. There’s an old military fort down there. Old Fort Jackson. It’s way cool. Lots of brick and tunnels and snapping turtles in the waters next to it. You can see the cannons there. Dad took pictures of us sitting on the cannon. Me and my sister.”

  “What happens if you turn left on that road, on this side of the river?” Jane asked.

  “Well, that goes off to bayous and marshes and stuff. Dad took us duck hunting, but my sister giggled so much we didn’t get a single one.” Bobby grimaced. “I didn’t really want to eat a duck. Dad says it tastes like chicken, but I’d much rather eat chicken.”

  “Lots of people live out in the bayous?”

  “Some. Dad says there’s folks who build shacks on the edges of the canals and who only use boats to come and go.”

  “Ever hear of the Viqc family?”

  Bobby shook his head.

  Jane smiled again. The child couldn’t see that the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She fervently hoped that Adrienne Viqc’s substance never reached out to touch the Therin family. Christien, I can’t think of anything else to ask him.

  Christien thought back, That tickle you have is after me, too. There’s something there. I don’t know what it is. Chère…I think I know this boy. I don’t know from where, but I remember him.

  “Bobby!” someone yelled from inside the house.

  Bobby turned his head. “Cheezit, the parent,” he said.

  A woman stuck her head out the front door and bellowed, “Trisha said you took all of her dolls!”

  “Target practice, Ma,” Bobby said. “In case I see another Bigfoot.”

  Jane would have stepped away if the woman’s unerring gaze hadn’t concentrated immediately on her.

  “Who’s that?” Devona Therin was her name. Jane recalled it from the article. Funny how she didn’t think the slender woman in her early thirties appeared the way Jane thought a Devona should look. Her hair was the same color as her son’s, blonde, streaked by outdoor activity, and her eyes a similar shade of cerulean blue.

  “My name is Jane Doe,” Jane said as the woman walked out, wiping her hands on a towel she carried. “I read the article about Bobby and wondered if your family might remember anything that might help me.”

  “Jane Doe,” Devona repeated. “Oh, the woman who—”

  “Yes, the woman who,” Jane said. “Also I wanted to thank Bobby for reporting the event to the police.”

  “He wouldn’t let me sleep until I called 9-1-1,” Devona said dryly. She grimaced. “I didn’t realize what had happened until later. I’m sorry. I would have called sooner if I hadn’t been so absorbed with a way to get the kids to their grandmother’s house.”

  “I don’t suppose you expected the car next to you to have something like that going on,” Jane offered.

  “No.” Devona studied Jane for a moment. “You really can’t remember anything?”

  “Not really,” Jane said. “There are bits and pieces that come to me, but I still don’t know who I am.”

  “Someone’s got to be looking for you,” Devona said worriedly.

  “Oh, someone’s probably looking for me,” Jane agreed. I’ve got nothing, Christien.

  Christien didn’t respond.

  “Bobby,” Devona said. “Take those Cabbage Patch Kids back into your sister’s room before she has an aneurism. We’ve got to get ready for a church dinner.”

  Bobby frowned. “Spaghetti again? The pastor loves to do spaghetti, but he puts green peppers in it, and I hate green peppe
rs. And the garlic bread is always mushy.” Balancing the Nerf gun in one arm, he snatched up a half-dozen Cabbage Patch Kids, giggling when one lost its underwear. Then he trotted away.

  Devona looked at Jane. “What did you think we would know?”

  “I don’t know,” Jane said honestly. “Something about the man in the car, I think.” Not that it matters now since Raoul’s—

  At least I didn’t eat him. Christien paused. I didn’t eat him, did I, chère?

  No!

  “I’m sorry,” Devona said. “I wish we could help you.” She looked over Jane’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got some help, though.”

  “Yes,” Jane murmured. “You don’t know anything about the Viqc family, do you?”

  Devona’s expression froze up. She stepped back, and Jane reached out a hand, alarmed.

  “Don’t touch me,” Devona said. The frozen expression turned into dismayed agitation. “Oh my Lord, you’re mixed up with them? That crazy bitch calling up and telling us we should leave the state if we want to live. Get off my property! Don’t come near my child again!” She spun and disappeared inside. The door slammed after her.

  Jane stared with open mouth. Oops?

  I guess she knows the witch. Or maybe knows of the witch, Christien thought. She won’t talk to you anymore.

  Well, don’t I feel special? Jane thought as she turned toward the truck.

  Christien opened the truck door when Jane heard a, “Wait!”

  Bobby Therin barreled around the side of the house. He had come from the back side, so he could talk to Jane again. He charged up and said, “I’ve seen him before!”

  Jane looked to see if Devona was watching. The mother was likely on the phone calling the local authorities about trespassers on her property. “Seen who before?”

  “The bald man,” Bobby said. “The one you choked. Duh much?”

  “You saw him before?”

  “Dad took us down the river to see the other fort and he was there,” Bobby said quickly. “That place doesn’t have any roads to it, and you can only get there by boat. Dad loves to explore stuff. You should see some of the places we got to go after that hurricane wrecked everything.”