Greyborn Rising

by Derry Sandy

  “Good. Come with me,” Kat said to Clarence.

  Only Rohan, Clarence and Jonah followed. Kamara lay where she was and Voss kept his seat, examining the bottom of his coffee mug.

  “I’ve had enough hoodoo for one day,” Cassan said as he rolled over to put his back to them.

  “And I’m heading home. It’s almost noon and I’m still in my nightgown,” Imelda said as she shouldered her assault rifle and made for the door. “See you soon, Jonah?” The last was more a command than a question.

  “Yes ‘Melda.”

  Moments later the party of five stood in front the box. Kat wrapped her hand in a pillowcase and placed the wrapped hand onto the box. She began murmuring in a language the others could not understand. As she spoke the box gradually lightened in color, the change spreading out from where Kat’s shrouded hand contacted the surface, the box turned from jet-black to midnight-blue, to navy, to gray then entirely white. Kat stopped chanting and removed her hand. The original blackness bled back into the cube once she no longer touched it.

  Then she reached into her pocket and withdrew a bone whistle. “Here Clarence, take this. If you blow on it, I can hear it across the boundary. Blow on it once when you arrive, blow on it another time when you have found Lisa. Three quick blows if she faces mortal danger. I can track the sound and travel to your location. You are to stay with her in the Grey until further notice.”

  Clarence took the whistle. “So what now?”

  “Put your hand on the box.”

  Clarence met Kat’s eyes directly. “What are my chances?”

  “The Grey is deadly, but so are you and you are more of that world than this one now. Be careful, be observant. Find Lisa, then find somewhere to take shelter. We will get you out.”

  Clarence slowly reached out and touched the box but instead of a solid surface his hand went right through the side of the cube, and then he was gone, swept into the Grey.

  “Can we trust him?” Rohan asked. “Voss has a point. We don’t know him.”

  “He was speaking the truth. He means to keep his promise to protect Lisa.”

  “Perhaps we should have just killed him.” Jonah hefted his rifle.

  “Perhaps, but the Grey is a lethal place and Lisa will need as much protection as she can get. He has the best chance of tracking Lisa via scent, and if he is killed by a lagahoo or something then it makes no difference. If he finds her and blows the bone whistle then I will know exactly where they are rather than trying to track her through the vastness of the Grey.”

  “The plan has merit, but Voss doesn’t like it,” Rohan said.

  “He likes Lisa, but hopefully he maintains that lethally cool head. We will need it.”

  Kat said two strange words and the box shrank to the size of a Rubik’s cube.

  “We’ll get that later.” Kat turned and led the way out of the room. “Rohan, I want you to tell me everything that happened in the house, in meticulous detail. I especially want to know how the woman and the girl contacted you.”

  Jonah excused himself and for the next sixty minutes Rohan stood in the hallway with the soucouyant and told her about the ordeal at the house in Laventille. “The girl called Ghita was acting as some sort of keeper for the house. She had tasks. She kept guard in a way, but apparently she has her own will to some extent because she let us out. The woman we encountered in the barrack yard room, on the other hand, just seemed trapped there, resigned to her haunt. They both said you need to sleep, and to open your dreams so they can reach you. That should not be too hard, right?”

  Kat looked at her feet. When she finally raised her head, Rohan noted a tenseness at the corners of her mouth. “The sleep that they are referring to is not as easy as simply laying my head on a pillow and closing my eyes, but you will soon see. Lisa encountered Ghita before. The girl almost caught her when she tracked Cassan through the box. Rohan, something big and evil is afoot. I need you to be sharp. Do you trust the men of the other houses?”

  “You know how we are. The relationship between the houses has always been at least mildly competitive. Every House also has its jurisdiction. We’ve always come to each other’s aid though.”

  “Ok, speak to the men you trust. Tell them that Stone may call in need of aid. Stone must not fall. I will also need you and Voss to dig a grave in the back. Kamara and Tarik will assist with the ceremonies.”

  Rohan looked at her quizzically, “A grave? Ceremony? We already burned the maboya.”

  “The grave is for me Rohan. The sleep that is required to communicate with those ghosts, demands a grave.”

  “Kat, what do you mean?”

  “You’ll see. You and Voss get to digging. Send Kamara and Tarik up to me. Alone. At sunset, I go to sleep.”

  When Rohan turned to walk away, he thought he heard a sound like a small sob choked back. He knew Kat would appreciate it if he did not turn around to look, so he continued downstairs. Kamara had to be helped to her feet before she could join Tarik in their secret meeting with Kat. Once the meeting had begun Rohan and Voss went out to a secluded area on the grounds and began digging a grave.

  Chapter 22

  After digging the grave as instructed, Rohan and Voss tried to return to Stone. They found the doors and windows locked and no one answered their knocks. Mysterious preparations were underway. Kamara sent Rohan a text message confirming that they were ok, but that the men had to stay outside for a while. Voss and Rohan thus spent the remainder of the afternoon sitting on the small porch of Jonah and Imelda’s home intermittently dozing and playing fetch with Cassan’s dogs.

  Agrippa was there too, but the big black dog simply lay in the shade of a spreading plum tree like a sleek sphinx, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

  Cassan had left earlier in the day. Uriah had arrived with a convoy of armed men to pick him up. There was no room for the massive dogs so Rohan had promised to drop them off later.

  Eventually Kamara called Rohan’s mobile to say they were ready and that he and Voss should join them at the graveside. The sun was low when Kat exited Stone attended by Tarik and Kamara. It hung in the sky, round, fat, and red like the single eye of an enraged Cyclops, bathing the world in a citrus monochrome.

  Kat was naked except for a thick garland of frangipani and hibiscus flowers about her neck. Kamara carried a length of white linen and a large silver jug filled with water and rose petals. Tarik carried a rolled leather bundle.

  “What’s this?” Rohan asked, averting his gaze from Kat’s body.

  No one replied. Kat stood by the graveside with her arms at her side. Kamara slowly poured the jug of water and rose petals over Kat’s head. The fragrant water ran down her body and pooled around her bare feet. Then Kamara began wrapping the woman in the length of white linen, winding the cloth around her until only her head was free. When she was done, Kat looked like a freshly embalmed mummy.

  “Rohan, Voss this is where we need your help. Lay her flat on the ground. Voss hold her shoulders down, Rohan you hold her feet,” Kamara commanded.

  “What’s going on?” Voss asked.

  “We are putting her to sleep. But she will try to kill us.” Kamara replied. “Please, just do as I ask.”

  “What?” the men exclaimed.

  “Please, we must proceed.”

  The men lowered Kat to the ground. The soucouyant still had not said anything. She simply stared up from the ground, her almond shaped eyes displaying no emotion. Rohan and Voss held her to the ground. Tarik came forward and knelt at her side. He carefully unfurled the leather roll. Inside was a small silver mallet and a pointy silver stake. There were also bottles containing several types of incense.

  Rohan was now genuinely concerned. “Hey, you’re not about to stake her with silver, are you? She will die.”

  “Yes, there is a chance she might die, but she has slept before and survived,” Kamara replied.

  “I thought she had to sleep as in sleep with a lower case ‘s’. I didn’t know she had
to Sleep. I cannot be part of this nonsense.” Rohan rose.

  “Rohan,” Kat called up to him. “The messages that the dead ones have for me may make all the difference in stopping Lucien. Do you think I would try this if it was not important? They asked me to sleep because limbo is relatively safe from spies. Please do as Kamara asks.”

  Rohan sucked a deep breath but repositioned himself at the woman’s feet.

  Twilight had descended. Tarik removed the stake from the roll and positioned it above Kat’s sternum.

  “Now this is the hard part, you must hold her. If she breaks free we will all be in mortal danger. Ready on my count of three. One…two…three…”

  Rohan and Voss used their considerable strength to hold the woman to the earth. Tarik hammered the head of the stake with the silver mallet driving it into Kat’s chest. The sound of the mallet striking the stake was musical, like a wind chime that left a lingering ring in the air but there was nothing musical about the sound Kat made. It was a moaning scream that started low and then ripped through the air, a sound that could not be made by human lungs or throat. The woman bucked and kicked, almost throwing Rohan and Voss.

  “Hold her!” Kamara shouted, but did not attempt to assist. “I can’t help you in this part of the ritual. Tarik needs to hit the stake again. Hold her still.”

  Rohan and Voss did their utmost, but the soucouyant seemed possessed by a legion of demons. Somehow Tarik managed to hit the stake another time driving the slender pike deeper. The musical ring was barely audible over Katharine’s otherworldly screams. This time the woman fought so violently that she began to tear through the multiple layers of linen that had been wrapped to bind her. “Hold her!” Kamara admonished, “One more time.”

  The soucouyant fought them as if she was on some sort of violent autopilot. Her pupils and irises had retreated, leaving her eyes a milky blue, just as when they had first met her in the swamp. Her body bucked and her forehead slammed Voss’ chin, splitting it. She kicked out catching Rohan squarely on the nose. He fell back onto his backside heavily. With a tearing noise she ripped free of the binding wraps and then she was on her feet.

  Voss leapt onto her back. Rohan tried to tackle her legs. She clawed Voss off then punched Rohan in the head. Then she grabbed a handful of his dreadlocks and kneed him in the face repeatedly until he was dazed. She was far stronger than he was, but he already knew this from when she had held him back that first night in the hut. Voss came at her again and she somehow managed to catch the man in a one-armed choke while still controlling Rohan with her other hand.

  Voss struggled as ineffectually as a child in the grip of a tigress. Kat bit into Voss’ neck and began to drink. Rohan knew this was bad. He tore free of her grip, leaving a few locks behind and tried to punch her. She removed her mouth from Voss’ throat long enough to head-butt his fist.

  “Mother.” Tarik spoke softly. “You must allow us to finish the ceremony. Remember our purpose.”

  Rohan was shocked. Mother?

  Tarik approached with lit sticks of incense and blew the copious smoke into Kat’s face. She swayed and released Voss and he fell in a boneless heap at her feet. Kat shook her head as if trying to clear her vision. She staggered, then fell forward, and Rohan caught her and lay her down onto her back. Tarik approached and tapped the stake a third time. Kat shrieked arched her back then went still with a long sigh. Tarik and Kamara sprung into hurried action. They produced some large green leaves and began chewing them vigorously. Then they spat the emerald paste into a small mortar and Tarik frantically ground in several other ingredients with a tiny pestle.

  Kamara then pulled the stake from Kat’s chest and Tarik packed the wound with the greenish mixture. Kamara sliced her hand with the sharp end of the same stake and dripped blood onto the packed wound.

  “We must bury her now, quickly. That means you Rohan, we cannot assist in the digging,” Kamara said.

  Rohan was in shock. But he picked Kat up. She seemed so tiny and slender in his arms that it was hard to believe that she had almost killed him five minutes ago. With Kat in his arms, he leapt into the grave and lay her flat on the cool damp dirt. Then he jumped back out. Voss was sitting upright but he looked to be in no condition to assist, so Rohan began shoveling dirt on to the soucouyant. The act of burying her left him with a nauseated sensation in his throat. When the grave was filled, Tarik slashed his hand with the stake and dripped blood onto the fresh mound.

  “It is done,” Kamara said.

  “Was it supposed to go like that?” Rohan asked touching the small bald patch where three of his locks had been torn free of his scalp.

  “That was actually better than the last time.” Tarik said. “Last time she crippled a digger.”

  “She almost drained Voss,” Rohan said, pointing to the man who was still seated and looking wan.

  “The blood of a digger is a vital part of the ceremony. But she thought it would go smoother if you guys did not know,” Kamara said. “That’s why Tarik couldn’t sedate her until she had drunk from one of you. Sorry.”

  “How can she be your mother, Tarik? How old are you?” Rohan asked.

  “I’m not sure. I have been celebrating my twelfth birthday every year since before the slaves were set free. After a while we just stopped counting.”

  “So you’re in control your appearance like Kat”.

  “No, I’m not. Kat can control her gestation to a degree and soucouyant children can control how fast they appear to age to a degree. But we’re not sure why I am continuing to age so slowly. I’m not in control of it. While she waited at the hovel, she cast a glamor to make me less-noticeable to humans. Most people could look straight at me and not see me and for the others who could see me, they forgot that they had seen me shortly after.”

  Rohan tried to make sense of it all. This explained why Tarik was in many ways a child, but in many other ways he was not. His calmness while staking his own mother and seeing her buried was not childlike in the least. For that matter, it was not even human.

  “Who is your father?” Rohan asked.

  “Kariega Le Clerc.”

  “The Kariega Le Clerc, founder of The Order, my great great grandfather.”

  “Yes. Mother will probably speak to him now that she is in Limbo. That was the reason she crossed over the last time.”

  Rohan was slack jawed. Kat had borne a son for Kariega. “So we’re related? Why did you guys lie about your relationship before?”

  “Yes, we are related through Kariega, but you’re also a descendant of Kariega’s son Onyeka. Kat brought him to Trinidad from Africa after Kariega had been killed and while I was still unborn in her womb. Onyeka fathered many sons, but he died in dishonor. Kat planned to disclose the whole truth sooner or later but felt that right now disclosure would have clouded the message. You would have spent valuable time distracted by the news.”

  Rohan could only nod at that. His mind was spinning with the new information, trying to understand the connections. “So what’s next? What will happen to her?” Rohan pointed to the grave.

  “She will sleep until she wakes. You and Voss can go back inside. Kamara and I must keep vigil until she returns.”

  “How long will that be?” Voss asked groggily. He was slowly beginning to regain his full faculties.

  “Last time she was asleep for almost a year. I kept vigil for her alone and I almost died. Time in limbo bears no significance, the dead have all the time they need. But she is better at keeping focused now and she knows she must return to save Lisa and help us handle Lucien and we devised a way to call her back. I do not expect that she will be gone a year. Also, this time we have you and Rohan and Jonah and Imelda to bring us food and water.” Tarik was smiling.

  “So we just wait?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you guys have to wait here.”

  “Yes, we are bound to this patch of earth.”

  “Why both of you if you did it alone the last time?”


  “One Is the minimum, two is better, three is ideal, more than three is not recommended.”

  “Well I’m going inside to have a shower and a nap, Voss probably also needs a shower and a nap and maybe even a trip to the E.R.” Rohan helped Voss to his feet and let the man lean on him.

  “Kamara, you need anything?” Rohan asked.

  “A bandage for my hand, some water, a sleeping bag and an umbrella. If it really begins to rain we may need a tent. On second thought, forget the bandage.” Kamara held up her hand to show that the self-inflicted slash had already closed. The Nights of Need had done their duty as Orderman’s marks.

  “I’m not used to healing this fast as yet.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” Rohan responded.

  Rohan supported Voss inside Stone leaving Kamara and Tarik to their graveside vigil.

  “Do you think she’s dead? Like really dead.” Voss asked as Rohan helped him to a stool and poured him a glass of orange juice.

  “No, the kid knows what he is doing. Besides I do not think she is that easy to kill.”

  “You call that easy? She was in a trance and almost swatted the two of us.”

  “I guess you have a point. But I have killed soucouyant before, and that tussle with Kat was only about average difficulty by comparison. I don’t expect Kat to be average anything.”

  “Rohan, I feel like we are losing. Not losing to Lucien. But losing in a more general sense. We’ve been getting our asses kicked all week. Cassan lost an arm, and even you lost some of your hair just now.”

  “That’s just the blood loss talking. Drink the juice and get some sleep. I’ll keep the first watch and wake you up in six hours.”

  “Another thing Rohan, could you bring me my sword. It is propped up against the door.”

  Rohan walked over to the door where the beautiful blade stood against the door jamb, point down, but when he tried to lift it he found that it was immovably heavy. “Is this a joke, Voss?”

  “No, it’s a spell. I’m the only person who is supposed to be able to be able to wield that weapon, or even pick it up. Your woman should not have been able to make it budge, let alone cut down a maboya with it.”