That’s right. And if it was forbidden, it means it’s possible. It means there is a veve… and an offering she’ll respond to.
“We could just ask Aida-Wedo.”
She doesn’t know. She’s the one who told us that she was missing, no one knew what happened to her. If she knew how she could be summoned, she’d do it.
“Or she does know but won’t tell us because she doesn’t want someone to summon her.”
Either way, asking her isn’t going to help.
“Maybe if I ask her pretty please? I’m even willing to bargain with sugar and honey on top. I mean, she is a Loa. Maybe she likes to make bargains, too?”
Aida-Wedo doesn’t deal in bargains. And I’m sure she could get sugar and honey herself if she wanted. You just don’t want to go down there and clean up these bodies.
“Of course I don’t. And you do? How the hell are we going to get them out of here? Have you thought about that? I’m not hauling one body up these stairs, much less hundreds of them. And then what would I do with them when I get to the alley? Start piling up bodies? Yeah, that won’t look suspicious at all.”
I figured you’d just use Beli. Cut a gate and send their bodies to rest in Guinee.
I scratched my head and coughed. “Well, why the hell didn’t I think of that?”
Chapter Five
Isabelle’s idea worked brilliantly. I wasn’t sure where in Guinee these bodies were going. The nymph and dryad and whatever else grazed there probably weren’t used to seeing so much death. But it was the only idea either of us had that made this doable.
A blue glow from the newly re-formed firmament danced across the bodies. I didn’t dare look at any of their faces. Before Pauli had cleared the city and put the waters back into the firmament, most of the bodies had been floating in water. They were bloated, their facial features warped. As disturbing as it was, it was probably not nearly so troubling as it would have been if I had been able to recognize some of the faces. Most of these people lived in Vilokan with their families. That didn’t mean some of them didn’t have loved ones who lived in the world above. No bodies would be left for them to identify. Was I sparing them the trauma of seeing their loved ones in this condition or denying their families closure? Probably both—but it wasn’t like I’d be able to figure out who was who anyway. Not unless they were carrying identification. And frankly, this was a job that had to be done quickly. The surviving Voodoo world, not to mention the new vampires who’d been raised from amongst the dead, were vulnerable to Kalfu.
I gagged as I cut a gate through the fabric of space and time around one of the bodies. I didn’t know how many I’d gotten rid of by this point. I wasn’t keeping count.
I saw something in my peripheral vision—something moving. I looked. It was gone.
“Did you see that?” I asked Isabelle.
I saw the same thing you did… I think it’s an apparition. It has a human aura.
I thought we’d freed all the souls who still languished here. I’d assumed we’d gathered them all into the vessel. Those whose souls hadn’t inhabited their reanimated bodies—becoming vampires—moved on to their eternal wherever. It struck me, though, that the only souls we gathered were those who’d been in the auditorium. There were others, some who were trying to escape Vilokan when the flood waters poured in, and some, perhaps, who hadn’t been at the auditorium at all. There couldn’t have been many in the latter category—no one involved in the Voodoo world would have missed the Trials, not unless they had a compelling reason or some kind of personal emergency.
I gripped my soul blade out of instinct. It wouldn’t do much for me in an encounter with a ghost but, for whatever reason, squeezing the blade’s hilt more tightly gave me a sense of security. While I had Baron Samedi’s aspect and had almost no knowledge about how to use it effectively, it did give me the latent ability to see dead people. Most ghosts aren’t a threat—those I’d met were, for the most part, benevolent. But ghosts are ghosts, and no matter how many paranormal experiences I’d had, they still gave me the goosebumps.
“Looked to me like it ducked into the door of the academy…”
Yeah… think it was a student?
I shrugged. “Maybe. Could be anyone.”
I walked up the steps and pressed open the door to the academy. It squeaked on its hinges. I almost lost my footing—the floors were slick and wet.
“Hello? Who’s there?” I asked, my voice resonating through the foyer.
A figure appeared from behind a corner. His form was vaguely translucent. His cassock and tonsure made him immediately recognizable. It was the very ghost who’d first guided me into Vilokan, who brought me to the academy on my first day.
“Père Antoine?”
The priest nodded even as his head hung low. He carried himself with some trepidation—his ghostly figure almost trembling. He didn’t have the same confidence and comforting presence he’d had every time I’d seen him before.
“Father, what’s the matter? I figured when Vilokan fell, you’d moved on. Why are you still here?”
“I cannot bear to leave this place behind. Not until I know all is well.”
“We’ve restored the firmament. We’re clearing out the dead. We’re remaking Vilokan.”
Père Antoine nodded. “You have done well. But the magic of this place is not in the firmament. It’s not even in Voodoo. It’s in the spirit of these people. That is what keeps me here. The lost souls, still wandering the city. Until they find their way, I cannot in good conscience find my own.”
I nodded. He was a priest—and a good one. By all accounts he’d welcomed Marie Laveau in her earthly life, even baptized her. He welcomed the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans into his church and embraced her. If anyone knew how to summon her, it would be Père Antoine.
“Father, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course you may.”
“On the stairs, when we were coming down, there was a presence there. Not human. Bitter cold. Whatever it was tried to give us a message.”
Père Antoine’s eyes widened. He lifted his head slightly. “What message did this being give you?”
“It said to find the queen. Said it needed a host. Then it gave us three letters. L-A-X. Does that mean anything to you?”
The priest cracked a smile and nodded. “Follow me.”
“But what does it mean?”
The priest turned back and looked in my eyes. “Come with me, Annabelle. There’s something you must see.”
I followed Père Antoine to the staircase that led to the former headmistress’s office. Erzulie’s office, the one that had belonged to Papa Legba before. The stairs that Erzulie had added were more stable than those that were here before. Still, they were slicker than snot. I gripped the rail as I followed the priest, who glided up the stairs without difficulty. He was just an apparition—there was no risk that he could slip and fall.
“Open the door,” Père Antoine said as we reached the top. “I cannot.”
I reached and turned the knob. “It’s locked.”
The priest looked at me incredulously. “Come now, Annabelle. Is a locked door really going to stop you?”
I grinned. The headmistress was gone—I’d sent her to Guinee with my soul weapon. There was no authority here—if there was an authority at all, it was me. Still, in spite of the fact that the whole place was in disrepair, engaging in intentional property damage wasn’t something I was used to. I was accustomed to respecting locked doors. I chuckled at the foolishness of the sentiment.
I inhaled deeply, drawing a dose of Isabelle’s magica, and thrust it at the door. The door broke from its hinges and flew across the room, crashing into what used to be the headmistress’s desk.
“You have been christened as High Mambo. But a title alone means little. The surviving Voodoo world will look to you for leadership. It is up to you to provide it.”
I huffed. “What they need is the Voodoo queen. Not me.”
; Père Antoine grinned widely. “They do need their Voodoo queen. But who is to say that can’t be you?”
“But Marie Laveau… they have a queen already.”
“They do, don’t they?”
Chapter Six
“In the drawer,” Père Antoine said. “Look in it.”
I opened the drawer of the desk. Inside there were several pens, each sporting the logo of random small businesses. There was a stack of Post-it notes, half a box of condoms (undoubtedly on account of Erzulie’s known escapades) and an old envelope—the paper had yellowed with age.
“I assume it’s the envelope you’re wanting me to get? Because if you mean the condoms, my whole opinion of you is about to radically change.”
Père Antoine belly-laughed at the idea. “I didn’t even realize those were in there. Erzulie, I suppose… But yes, the envelope.”
I grabbed the envelope and flipped it over. I read the words on the outside verbatim, “‘In the Event of My Demise.’ Based on the age of this envelope, I’m guessing it was Legba’s, not Erzulie’s?”
Père Antoine nodded.
“Then why is it still sealed? Why didn’t Erzulie read it?”
The priest shrugged. “Perhaps she already knew the envelope’s contents. Maybe she didn’t want to know what it contained. Either way, the fact remains that she never opened it. It’s almost as though it was left for this moment, is it not?”
I bit my lip. “I don’t know about that. But I suppose we can give it a read.”
Père Antoine nodded. I slid my thumb under the seal and gently tore open the top of the envelope. The paper inside, yellowed even more than the envelope, was dry to the touch. It crinkled as I unfolded it.
To whomever shall come upon this letter,
If you are reading these words, it means that I, Legba, have fallen. Kalfu—the demon within me—has prevailed. It also means he’s found another host, and the body of Pierre Lescarbot may soon be put to rest. It is my great lament that his corpse must serve our purposes once more. So long as I am absente, Kalfu himself will govern the crossroads and he alone will determine which spirits and Loa might traverse to and fro between Guinee and Earth. It is imperative, therefore, that she who would become queen would adorn the remnants of my former host. The bones shall be draped around her neck. His head, shrunken. Only so might the rite used to summon me before allow me to return, provided a new host who is willing to forfeit his liberty for my sake might consent. For I will not suffer any mortal to lose his life for my sake. At my passing, the era of the former queen will begin to unravel and a new one shall emerge. It is imperative that under the new queen’s reign I be vivified again that the unholy crossroads might be restored to sanctity.
In Bondye’s Service,
Papa Legba, X
I scrunched my brow. “What is the X on his signature?”
“It is not an X, it is the icon of a crossroads.”
L… A… X… Legba, X
Isabelle figured it out at practically the same time I did. “This was the message we were given in the stairway.”
“Likely Legba himself, attempting to speak to you through the void.”
“And what is this about a new queen?”
“Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, was bound to Legba and his former host. Her rule and reign depended on his endurance. Such a magical link is a part of the queen’s coronation. When Legba fell, Marie Laveau began to age.”
“But I thought she’d died before… she has a tomb and everything. I figured she’d been raised. Must’ve had Baron Samedi’s aspect.”
“She has never possessed the aspect of any Ghede,” Père Antoine explained. “But she has many other aspects, no less.”
“Then how did she come back to life as the Voodoo queen?”
“Necromancy, dear child.”
“But… that’s forbidden. Only the Bokors…”
“Indeed.” Père Antoine’s head hung low. “But at the time, the Voodoo world was lost. She’d been the Voodoo queen already in life. When she died, her daughter, Marie Laveau Glapion, brought other traditions into the Voodoo world. She was not just a Mambo, but also a witch. She dabbled in many of the mystical arts—too many to count, and probably some that have never been properly named. Over time, the Voodoo arts became diluted. Even after the second Laveau perished and none took her place, there were some who longed for a return to the simpler, purer days. Thus, a witch and a Mambo, one who had learned the ways of the second Marie, saw to it to use the witchery she knew to bring back the original, to resurrect her that she might resume her role as the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. But to accomplish this witchery, she had to link Marie Laveau’s life and sustenance to that of a Loa—and which one would be better than the headmaster of the Academy and the guardian of the crossroads.”
“But I don’t understand. If Marie Laveau knew she was dying, she knew it the moment Legba fell, so why did she appoint Erzulie as headmistress? Why didn’t she see to it that her successor be chosen and Legba restored?”
“But she did, child.”
“If she did, she failed. Look around you. It would take a miracle and a thousand tons of bleach to revive this place.”
“Erzulie evoked the Trials, did she not?”
“Yeah, that she might appoint a High Mambo. Not a new queen.”
“But the queen herself nominated one of the competitors if I’m not mistaken…”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, she nominated me. I never understood why.”
“Because she saw something in you worth putting to the test. And I dare say, you’ve henceforth demonstrated your suitability for the role she chose to pass on to you.”
“She wants to make me her heir?”
Père Antoine nodded. “I believe she does.”
“You believe?” I asked. “So this is just you throwing together your own hypothesis about what she wanted?”
“A hypothesis is an educated guess, if I’m not mistaken. And my guess, in this instance, is very well educated.”
“But she’s gone. No one knows where she is. It may be too late.”
“It’s not too late. The queen is aging rapidly. This is why she’s remained out of sight. Her very appearance would unsettle the Voodoo world. But she still lives, even if her time is short. You may find her, if you can summon her.”
“Summoning the queen is forbidden,” I said. “I don’t even know how.”
“Perhaps she’s left you a clue.”
“I have a book she meant for me to find… Death Rites. It instructed us on the Trials.”
“It is worth a look. Though, it is unlikely something she penned with her quill. She always prized her privacy—dwelt in an unknown place and shared its location with no one. I highly doubt she would leave a written record of her location. Still, if I can be sure of anything, it is that Queen Laveau never leaves any of her i’s undotted or her t’s uncrossed. The answer is there for you if you will have the eyes to see.”
A white glow surrounded the priest. He extended his arms and laughed out loud.
“Father, please… I need more help. I don’t know how…”
The priest seemed not to hear my words. “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word. For mine eyes have seen thy salvation!”
Père Antoine took a step into the light and disappeared. He was gone.
Chapter Seven
“Well, that’s fucking fantastic.”
What is?
“He was the only one who had any real answers. But instead we got riddles.”
He just said if you have eyes to see…
“He was quoting Jesus. Priests do that shit all the time.”
Isabelle chuckled. That might be, but I think the point is that the answer shouldn’t be hard to find. We have to find a way to summon Marie Laveau, or at least find her, so she can help us restore Legba.
“Brilliant one, Nancy Drew. You know? I hadn’t figured that out.”
&nbs
p; Not a mystery, Annabelle. That’s just what he told us.
“I was being sarcastic… never mind.” I rolled my eyes. I expected riddles and shit like that from the Loa, from pretty much anyone in the Voodoo world. But a priest—aren’t they just supposed to tell you like it is, give you the answers you need? I probably shouldn’t have been as annoyed as I was. But when finding out I’ve been chosen, and had no say in the matter, to become the new Voodoo queen, and the current one—who was dying but had to be involved in helping me become the next one—was off playing some kind of bullshit game of hide-and-seek while bloodthirsty vampires were running amok in the city and a devilish Loa was trying to wage a war against pretty much everything good on God’s green earth because he wants something I have… well, I’ll just say adding the pressure of jumping through hoops can make a girl a little testy.
These were the moments when I needed Pauli… He’d probably crack a joke about “testes” that would make me smile. I needed to smile right now. While Isabelle is great for a lot of things, comic relief is not one of them.
I bit my lip. “The door behind the desk, the one where Legba used to chain himself up at night to prevent Kalfu from running free…” Not a bad place to start.
I looked at the door. I tried to draw in some magica—this was going to take some force. If it was meant to keep Kalfu in when he and Legba shared a body, it would probably be more than effective at keeping me out.
The magica fizzled out.
“Did you just cut me off?”
Why don’t you try the doorknob first?
I rolled my eyes. “It’s going to be lock—” The knob turned, and it opened. “Well, fuck me!”
I’m already inside of you… I’m afraid in our relationship, that’s the closest we’re going to get.
I snorted. Okay, maybe I spoke a bit too soon about Isabelle’s lack of a sense of humor. She could have one from time to time—provided it came at a moment that was as good as her saying “I told you so.”
Voodoo Queen Page 3