by M J Marstens
And, let’s not forget Ferro.
I cut my glare from the golden triplet to the azure one. I don’t know the last one well enough, but if his two brothers are any indication, I’m bound to want to stab him to death, too.
“Thanks for ditching me last night, you dickstain!”
“That is enough,” Rowan interjects calmly. “We have more important matters to address, nor are we calling each other names— no matter how creative and nonsensical.”
“It made sense to me,” I mutter under my breath and Rowan reaches out to whack me with her pointer. “Jesus, alright! Knock it off. Did you and my mèrè attend Rafiki classes together or some shit?”
“Listen up, Tiana, I don’t have time for your sass, no matter how appropriately your mother named you. We have a problem. The Shadow Society is growing. They are clearly planning something— something big. If we don’t act now, it might be the end of all realms as we know it.”
“Aren’t you all the Shadow Society?” I wonder in confusion.
“No,” Lio drawls, “we’re the assassins of those in the Shadow Society.”
I ponder his words.
“So. . . the Shadow Society are rogue souls-”
“Bent on world-domination through possession, yes,” Rowan interrupts. “And not just of the earthly realm, but the demonic and angelic ones, too. The Assassins numbers are few, but our skills and talents are numerous. The triplets here are very special— that’s not a compliment, so don’t get a big dick,” she snaps at the three of them when they grin broadly. “They are born of one mother, but of three different fathers.”
I give Rowan my best ‘what-the-fuck-does-that-even-mean’ look. She rolls her eyes.
“Ferruccio’s father was a soul. Aurelio’s was an angel, and Carmino’s was a demon. Together, they form the three of the four steps necessary in alchemy to create the Philosopher’s Stone, hence their name ‘The Alchemy Brothers’. The four parts of Magnum Opus state that four descendants from each of the realms must come together with a stone from the earthly realm. It will pass from the rubedo, the red descendent, to the citrinitas descendent, or the golden one. From there, the albedo—the white or iron descendent will take it to pass to the final child: the nigredo, who will use it to create a weapon so powerful, no soul will ever be able to possess another entity again. As you can see, the triplets make up these first three steps, all that is missing is the final descendent— the nigredo.”
“And that’s where you come in, Ms. DeJais,” Ferro adds, emphasizing my last name that means ‘jet black’ in French.
“You loons think that I’m some missing key to a mythical science that can stop these dick souls from taking over the realms?” I ask with no small amount of sarcasm.
“Oh, I don’t think it, child. I know it,” Rowan corrects.
“And how’s that?” I rejoin in amusement.
“Because your father is none other than Bondye1, the Supreme Creator and you are the final key to creating the Philosopher’s Stone.”
And just like that, my world is tossed on its ass.
* * *
1 The most important Voodoo god. His name in Creole means ‘good god’.
a-grave robbing we will go
After Rowan’s information bomb, I leave. The Alchemy brothers trail behind me.
“For someone who wanted answers, you sure don’t look happy about finally getting them,” Lio observes like the cocksucker he is.
I merely lift my middle finger in the air before shifting back into the earthly realm. Once there, I whip my phone out of my back pocket and call my mèrè.
“So, you know?” is how she greets me.
“How come you never told me that my father is a fucking god? And why, then, is my ass so damn flat?!”
“Sass, honey, your mother never wanted to tell you. The kind of knowledge is dangerous. You have no idea of who you are or what you’re capable of and that makes you a deadly threat. In our world, threats are eradicated. I knew eventually that you would learn the truth and, by then, you would be strong enough to fight back. When your mother passed, she made me vow to never tell you before she crossed over. Until this moment, I’ve been soul-bound to never breathe a word but, now that you know, I will try to help in any way necessary.”
“Rowan— I assume you know her, you both seem cut from the same bossy-ass cloth, mentioned that souls are banding together to form the Shadow Society. These dick souls plan on possessing all the entities and taking over the realms and the only way to stop them is with the Philosopher’s Stone. Which, apparently, only I and the Asshole Brothers can make. The question is— what do we even need to begin the process?”
“A stone, obviously, cher.”
“Just a stone? Well, shit, I’m stepping on twelve right now.”
“No, not just any stone, you smartass. A special stone.”
“Don’t tell Rowan I was smartass. The Assassins aren’t taking on any more,” I deadpan. “Ok, oh wise and powerful Voodoo Queen, where do we find this ‘special stone’.”
“In Marie Laveau’s grave.”
“WHAT?!” I yell, making people walking down Bourbon Street eye me warily.
“Mèrè, how the hell are we going to find Marie Laveau’s grave?” I hiss.
The first Voodoo Queen of New Orleans is a legend, but the grave erected for her in Saint Louis Cemetery is merely a place for Creoles to come and pay homage. Her real grave is somewhere deep in the bayou—no one knows where except Marie herself.
“What do you think Saturday’s ceremonial possession is going to be about?” my mèrè snaps. “Marie will tell us herself. Get the shovels ready, Sass, we’re going grave hunting.”
“And Marie is just going to let us have this stone?”
“Of course not. It’s part of her infamous scepter. But she doesn’t have to know that.”
I groan.
We aren’t be going grave hunting.
We’re going grave robbing.
May the dead Voodoo Queen have mercy on us all.
to be continued
thank you
Another HUGE thank you to my cover artist. I still can’t get over how beautiful and detailed this cover is (and the other two!) I can’t wait to show the world the others.
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hardass alchemy
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