by G A Chase
Cheesecake whined at not being allowed to stay, but she reluctantly turned toward the hallway and vanished back to the land of the living.
The heartwarming scene of mother and daughter dissolved and was replaced by the office Kendell had visited with Myles and Delphine. There was a change Kendell found hard to identify. The walls appeared more substantial, though previously she hadn’t thought them to be illusions. I’m imagining things. The thought made her feel even closer to Myles. So many people had discounted his reality as daydreaming.
The girl who stood behind the desk looked like a teenager. “You’ve got no right to ask me.” As she cowered in the corner, Kendell felt real pity for the frightened youth.
“Lilianna Broussard, you know I wouldn’t if there was another choice.”
“You’ve got no right. I don’t care if you are my great-great-granddaughter. You have no idea what he’s done to me. After he used me in life, he sold me in death to Baron Kriminel. For a hundred and fifty years, I’ve been a slave. Now that the baron finally has what he wants, I can be free. I won’t go back.”
For a moment, Kendell thought she understood what her own parents had gone through raising her. The obstinate young woman knew she was right and wouldn’t let anyone tell her differently. It was a reaction Kendell was very familiar with from her childhood.
“I’m not asking you to go back to being bound to one of the loas of the dead. If we can send Archibald to the afterlife, you all can be free to finally cross over.”
“Right. But first you want him back here in Guinee, back where he has power over us. Fleur, you know how it is. You can’t agree to having him back with us.”
Having lived a full life, Fleurentine made her case with far fewer dramatics. “Turning him loose in the land of the living is not an answer to our situation. Right now, he’s free to enslave even more young women. If we don’t do all we can to stop him, we will be to blame. In life, I watched as he stole you and the others from your families, raped you, manipulated your emotions, let you keep your children, but never let you forget who their father was, and now he holds you in this purgatory. I won’t make the mistake of sitting idly by again.”
Lilianna crossed her arms in a huff. “That’s your burden, not mine.”
“I can do this, Lilianna, but only with your help,” Kendell said. “I can end the Malveaux curse.”
“End it? Who do you think holds the curse in their hands? It’s us—the sisterhood of girls who gave Marie Laveau the power to create the spell and stand watch over it to this day. It’s all we have to keep him in check.”
Kendell wished she could hold the frightened girl in her arms, but under that fear, she saw the same raw determination that she knew within herself. “I know the burden you think you carry—the promise you made so long ago—and I can assure you that you did save your brother. I’ve met his descendants. They call you the angel. Your sacrifice enabled him to live a full life, even if it cut yours short. I invite you to read my mind so you’ll see. Those people love and revere you.”
Even with Myles taking her into the realm of human consciousness, she’d never before experienced having someone else infect her thoughts. As Lilianna moved into her mind, Kendell understood that the scared, angry girl carried a maternal protectiveness that came from watching after her younger brother. Seeing her beloved sibling’s line stretch from the young boy to the clan on the other side of the river filled Kendell’s heart with warmth, but it wasn’t her emotion—it was Lilianna’s. They’ll be in danger. All of them. The baron Malveaux won’t rest until he’s hunted them down just to spite you. He’ll do the same to all of those you call sisters.
Lilianna separated herself from Kendell. “Don’t presume to manipulate me. Just because I’ve watched over those before you doesn’t mean I’m a pushover. I’ve done what I can.”
Never before had Kendell considered her need to protect those around her as a maternal instinct, but with Lilianna standing before her, she recognized the root of what Myles had called her superhero spirit. “All I’m asking is for your help so I can continue the work you started so long ago.”
39
Myles imagined this was what it must be like to be a goldfish in a bowl, staring at people who were free to do as they pleased. Other than observing or ignoring what the baron was doing with his body, he had no free will.
As if being trapped weren’t bad enough, he had to endure the endless talking of the rich and powerful. “Why can’t you go out on a yacht or secret nightclub that caters only to the rich? Why does it have to be another boring meeting?”
“Shut up, and maybe you’ll learn something. Or remain ignorant if you prefer. Either way, keep quiet.”
Everyone in the office suite deferred to the elegant, mature woman at the head of the table. “We’re pleased to have you back among us. Our most pressing challenge is funneling money to our congressional campaign. It’s not enough for Lincoln simply to win the seat. He must be seen on the national stage. That type of advertisement takes money.”
“Stop.” The word echoed around Myles’s head with even more command than the deep baritone that filled the room. “You’re chasing after politics?”
“Precisely. Once you help us—”
“I am not here to help you. I am the baron Malveaux. Since when does money pursue political power? Mayors and senators came on bended knee to ask my favors to secure their temporary illusions of command. You would throw away all that I’ve built for a moment of glory?”
In spite of starting off on the defensive, the woman knew how to command a room. “I think you’ll find times have changed. Washington and New York are the centers of power. We need to establish a presence—”
“Don’t treat me like a fool. This mind I’m in contains enough information on current affairs, even if he did focus more on the party aspect than important business concerns. What I want to know is why the family’s power base is still limited to New Orleans. Politics? Exposure? When did the Laroque family begin thinking so small? The time for safe, gradual forays into the upper regions of the establishment are long past. No one ever made it to the top by playing by the rules.” He looked around at the subordinates in disgust. “Except perhaps those in my own family.”
Myles could see the anger growing in the woman’s eyes even if the baron who was running his body didn’t notice or care. “We summoned you—”
“You summoned me?” The baron’s ice-cold laugh was pitched to shut down discussion. “For a hundred and fifty years, I’ve watched this family squander every opportunity for greatness. I suppose the old adage is correct: if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. I am not here to help you. You are here to serve me. Never forget that I am a loa of the dead.”
The woman sagged into her chair like a student who’d just had her dissertation torn to shreds by a sadistic professor. “What do you have in mind?”
“The South is about to rise again, only this time we’ll fight on our own terms. We’ll take what others consider weaknesses and make them our strengths. As far as the Union is concerned, we’re still a beaten, simple, uneducated people. Rather than combat that image, we’ll embrace it—to their horror. Their underestimation of us will be their undoing. By the time they realize what’s happening, they’ll be powerless to stop us. Senator? No. We’re running Lincoln Laroque as president, but he’ll just be the distraction we use while we gather the economic forces. For a bank, you people have a woeful misunderstanding of where the real power lies.”
Like a prisoner in a dungeon pulling at the bars of his cell in frustration, Myles railed at the evil he saw brewing in the baron’s thoughts.
* * *
Kendell must know what’s happened. The thought was the only hope Myles could cling to. Something must have gone wrong with the curse, but he couldn’t figure out what. The baron wasn’t making any attempt at maintaining Myles’s normal life. That had to work in Myles’s favor. Kendell wouldn’t have to work too hard con
vincing Madam de Galpion or Luther Noire or Lieutenant Cazenave that something was wrong. Still, he wondered if any of them would have any clue as to what to do about the possession.
Nothing about modern-day New Orleans seemed to be to the baron’s tastes. Even if they hadn’t been sharing a mind and body, Myles would have figured that out pretty quickly. As they walked down the middle of Royal Street, the baron attempted to put as much distance as he could between himself and the common man. He turned his nose up at the expensive restaurants filled with noisy families on vacation. “How does a society function like this?”
The baron might have been talking to himself, but Myles figured there was no harm in answering. “It’s called social equality. Take the idea of all people being equal and run it to its logical conclusion.”
“It’s all men are considered equal. If you intend to instruct me, at least get the terms right.” The smug voice in Myles’s head, freed from the restrictions of vocal cords, oozed aristocratic contempt.
“Yeah, well, we no longer rape the wives and daughters of our enemies, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
He couldn’t detect even a hint of sarcasm in the response. “That’s a shame. From what I can see, complete equality is a bore. I appreciate the challenge of having a woman be in charge in the boardroom but only so I can enjoy taking her down to the depths of my depravity. A man, even you, has a fundamental biological need to dominate. Women aren’t born with that drive. They may learn it, but they will never be consumed by it as we are.”
“Men and women can do more together than as adversaries. Women have a unique view of life. Respecting all races, genders, and religions makes our society stronger. We’re the envy of—”
“Oh, do shut up. I have no interest in being envied. If I’ve learned anything after all those years in the ground, it’s that people hold on to concepts too much without considering the basis of those ideas. There’s nothing noble about having other people look up to you if it’s all a façade.”
Myles feared the baron wasn’t totally wrong—complete equality tended to be more of a longed-for illusion than an achievable reality—but he had to believe having a higher goal helped humanity evolve. “Face it, there’s no room for your antiquated thinking in this reality.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? The rich control the powerful, who sell the vision to the masses. There is no equality in any meaningful sense. Money creates what you call reality. Freedom, equality, social justice—they’re all just carrots to keep the hamsters on the wheel.”
As if it weren’t bad enough that Myles was trapped in his own body, now he had to endure a lecture on the sins of morality. He began humming to himself so he wouldn’t have to listen.
“Knock that off. It’s irritating.”
Myles smiled at having found a way to strike back. “Sucks when the downtrodden start rising up, doesn’t it?”
* * *
Myles still had one advantage over the baron. Being in the same body meant he had access to the deep waters. And as the baron insisted on being in charge in life, that left Myles free to explore the ocean of consciousness.
Papa Ghede stood at the familiar crossroads. “I hope having the baron take possession of your body wasn’t what you had intended.”
Myles couldn’t find humor in the sarcasm. “I didn’t do anything. How do I get out of this mess?”
“Monsieur Malveaux is a cunning adversary—in life as well as death. It’ll take a combination of the living and the dead to defeat him.”
As an unwilling vessel for the baron, Myles was trapped between the two realms, with little to offer either. “What can I do?” he asked in despair.
“When the time comes, ride with me to the seven gates. Archibald Malveaux isn’t yet a loa, so for him to escape the land of the dead and return to the living is an embarrassment to us all.”
Myles had trouble figuring out where he belonged in the two worlds. “But I’m still alive, aren’t I? What will happen to me if I pass through all the gates?”
“You still have a living body, which I assume you wish to keep. You’ll need to present offerings to each of the loas of the dead to prevent them from claiming your soul. Since you don’t have control of your body, you’ll need someone to put the items on the various tombs for you at the correct time.”
“I know someone who can help if I can reach her.” He’d escorted Kendell to the secret realm, but taking the journey on her own would be very different from doing it with him as her guide.
Papa Ghede drew a picture of a cross in the dust. “Remember this symbol. It’s the veve of Baron Samedi. With it, your friend can identify the seven gates.”
Myles stared at the crosses and lines. “How is she supposed to make anything out of that? I’m here in Guinee, and it makes no sense to me.”
“It’s all I have that’s translatable into the world of the living. There is another being, though, who can help your friend on her quest—the true Baron Samedi’s wife, Maman Brigitte. Find your friend, and tell her to seek out Brigitte. The veve that marks her will help your friend decipher the baron’s symbol.”
Myles bowed to the short man, his only hope of returning to a normal life. “Thank you.”
Papa Ghede’s mysterious smile left him wondering what wasn’t being said.
* * *
As a being of pure energy floating around Kendell’s bedroom while she attempted to fall asleep, Myles suspected he might understand how ghosts felt. He didn’t want to freak her out, but he needed to talk to her. She’d only be in the half-asleep, spiritually free state for a matter of seconds.
“Hey, don’t wake up, but I need to talk to you.”
Her inner thoughts of the day at work—and her worry about him—were morphing into having a picnic on a sunny day with him and Cheesecake. He was losing her to sleep.
Cheesecake, however, sat up on the bed to stare directly at him as he hovered over the bed. She didn’t growl, but her fearful whine managed to bring Kendell out of her sleep. “What is it, girl? Did you have a bad dream?”
The pup gave Kendell a kiss on the cheek and turned back toward Myles. Kendell looked up, but he knew she only saw the wood-beamed ceiling.
“How am I supposed to reach you?”
Cheesecake gave a single bark reply, but he doubted Kendell would understand.
At least the dog might hear him. “She needs to almost fall asleep. Do you think you could cuddle next to her? If she drifts off, nuzzle her back to that half-asleep state.”
Cheesecake got up and circled a spot next to Kendell then plopped down so firmly it looked like she was forcing Kendell off the bed.
“Okay, girl. I get it. I missed you too.” She petted the shaggy head, but the dog’s dark-brown eyes were still turned to Myles, and he knew the pup would do what she could to unite her two people.
He felt helpless to reach Kendell. She would need to find him, but where should he wait? As Cheesecake closed her sleepy eyes, he feared he was about to lose his one potential assistant. Instead of drifting off into dreams of chasing squirrels, a much younger, fitter dog smiled in front of him and barked in his spirit realm. The pup turned and started running off but turned to make sure he knew he should follow.
“I’m coming, sweet girl.”
In the middle of the grassy field was a red-and-black-checkered blanket crowded with plates of hamburgers, potato salad, and dog treats. Cheesecake raced for the spread like a pup on a mission.
He sat on the edge of the blanket, waiting. Instead of him being the ghost, it was Kendell who appeared out of thin air.
“About time,” he said. “The burgers were getting cold.”
Tears formed in her eyes. “I miss you so much. Why can’t this be real?”
He got up and took her in his arms. “Don’t wake up, but this is real. Remember everything I taught you about traveling in that other dimension? Well, that’s where I am. Cheesecake made sure I got into this dream before you arrived. I think she knew
you’d follow her. I need your help.”
Kendell hugged him hard, pressing her whole body against his. “It’s really you? I’m not just imagining this?”
“Are you awake or asleep?”
She nodded against his chest. “Asleep. I thought I was supposed to be the smart one. You’re going to tell me that since I am asleep, this has to be real. If I thought I was awake, I’d truly be dreaming.”
“Something like that. I have help on this side, but I have a mission for you.” He pulled away from her embrace and drew the baron Samedi’s veve with the ketchup squirt bottle. “Show this image to Delphine de Galpion. There’s a loa of the dead, Maman Brigitte, who will be on the lookout for you. With their help, figure out the locations of the gates of Guinee and in what order they’re to be entered, and then place the offerings on the correct tombs at the correct times. I know that’s a lot to ask, but if we can unite the six other loas of the dead, they can end Malveaux’s possession of my body.”
She traced the symbol with her fingers. “I’ve had some thoughts as well about freeing you, but as he’s sharing your body, maybe it’d be best to keep them secret. When do you want to start?”
“Easter Sunday is in two weeks. Do you think you could be ready in time?”
She bit her lip, an indication she was running a mental calculation. “We’d want to end on Easter—a celebration of rebirth—as we bring you back. I’ll make it work. Can you hang in there for another two weeks?”
“Just knowing salvation is coming will give me strength.”
40
The small voodoo library in Scratch and Sniff made Kendell claustrophobic. She’d already spent too much time convulsing, being separated from her body, and frustrated by the unread journals in the dark room. Now she was beginning another adventure that had its roots in the humid room filled with the stench of too many incantations.
