Pauli is right, Isabelle said. He isn’t worth it. We don’t have to be victims, you know. Because we choose not to be.
I couldn’t reply to Isabelle audibly. Instead, I grabbed a pen and jotted down my thoughts.
“You don’t blame me? For what my family did to you?” I wrote.
I don’t even blame them…
“But you would be justified if you did,” I wrote.
If I did that, I’d still be a slave to my anger, to my resentment. They’d still own me.
“But you’re still not free. Trapped in my head.”
You might see it that way. Everyone has limitations. And liberties. It’s our choice which ones we allow to define us. Look at Vilokan. You can see the handiwork of creative people all around, in the buildings, in the art on these school walls. Doesn’t look like the work of slaves.
“But they were. Food doesn’t grow down here. They still depended on their masters and worked the plantations.”
Sounds more like a people who found a way to be free, in spite of it all.
I quickly turned the page in my spiral notebook as the door swung open. A stout middle-aged man burst through the door, huffing and puffing as though he’d just ran a marathon. “I am Hougan Asogwe Jim,” the man said, the curls of his black-and-gray mustache fluttering around his lips. He wrote the name “Jim” on the chalkboard, as if any of us would have difficulty with the spelling of his name. If he’d spelled the other part—Asogwe—it might have been helpful. “Welcome to Philosophy of the Arts. If you learn nothing else as aspiring Hougans and Mambos, then learn this: the primary goal and activity of Voodoo is to serve the Loa. In turn, they will grant you health, protection, and favor.”
I rolled my eyes and immediately flipped open my notebook and took pen to paper: “What did you just tell me, again, about these people not being slaves?”
12
ISABELLE SEEMED TO enjoy the general education classes. I found it almost impossible to focus. My mind was always spinning after my morning sessions with Oggie. I couldn’t wait until each afternoon when I’d get to practice what I’d learned with Mikah. In the meantime, even the classes that sounded interesting proved dull. Candles and Oils involved little more than memorizing the processes of what certain oils did, what they did when added to candle wax, and how they might interact with summoning rituals that none of us had even learned yet. That’s because Summoning 101—a course that sounded more interesting than it proved to be—had heretofore been little more than a series of warnings about what not to do when summoning a Loa. Dollcraft… again, so far it was just a bunch of moralizing about how Voodoo dolls should be used for healing, to benefit people—not for torture. And the History of the Loa… well, it was a history class. It was interesting, during the brief intervals between my noddings off.
But Isabelle… she was eating it up. Good thing, too. She’d ensure that we passed all our tests. What’s the point of studying, myself, when my soul-bound familiar relishes in it and can give me the answers at a moment’s notice? I suppose being polar opposites, personality wise, isn’t always a recipe for conflict. Sometimes it means we can complement each other’s weaknesses. She basically does my studying and homework, and I make sure she has a great view of Oggie’s chiseled rear during our morning sessions. How could a girl complain about that?
Isabelle found a way…
He’s your teacher. It’s not appropriate!
“But isn’t that what makes it so much fun?” I’d asked in response. “It’s the thrill of the taboo!”
In truth, I suspected Isabelle had crushed on Mikah. Not that he’s a bad-looking guy, but I didn’t find him particularly attractive either. Just kinda… blah. And the kid had no sense of style. As I walked into our afternoon practice session, I almost busted my gut when I saw he was wearing pinstriped pants with a plaid shirt.
Plaid with stripes?
No… just no.
I could see why Isabelle liked him. I mean, apart from Oggie, he was the only one in this whole school who even knew she existed.
“I think your problem,” Mikah said through his thick Ethiopian accent, “is that you and Isabelle can’t maintain focus well enough together to wield your soul blade.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I let my mind wander, for even a second… start thinking about something random… my blade disappears every time. You said that your blade was forged in the ether by a combination of elementals, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The earthen element had gravitated toward her. It was also the first one to approach us.”
Mikah shrugged. “I mean, I wield an earthen blade myself. It’s a very stable element. It requires a sure footing, a clear sense of purpose.”
“That certainly describes Isabelle,” I said.
“But not you so much.”
I shook my head. “We’re soul-bound, but definitely not soul-mates.”
Let me try… allow me to take the reins.
I cringed.
“She is talking, isn’t she?” Mikah asked. Apparently, when she speaks, my eyes have a tendency to wander. It was a tell he’d picked up on quickly.
“She wants me to allow her to take over,” I said.
“You can do that?” Mikah asked.
“Yeah, but it means I have to relax, and an awful headache follows after, once I’m back in control.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Mikah said. “Not to mention, if you’re the only one practicing, it makes sense that she wouldn’t be able to attune her will to the blade.”
I chewed my lip. He had a point… even though I didn’t want to admit it. I wasn’t some kind of control freak. In truth, I didn’t mind it when Isabelle was in charge. If anything, she was more responsible with our body than I was. In truth, I felt bad for her… always watching, never doing. Allowing her to take over from time to time helped assuage my pangs of conscience. I hated the idea that I was keeping her in a kind of mental prison. She had lived as a slave in her earthly life. The last thing I wanted to do was limit her freedom now. I just hated those damn headaches. They usually put me out of commission for a couple hours. They were so intense that I couldn’t even see straight… my vision was blurred. It also took a while to regain my composure. I was incredibly clumsy after I’d resumed control. Not to mention, it was hard to prevent my mind from seizing the reins. Any intense emotion, and my body would thrust me back into the driver’s seat. We weren’t sure why. Probably just because my body had been made for my soul… they “fit” together right, genetically, DNA-wise, or whatever. At least that was my working theory.
“All right,” I said, nodding resolutely. “We’ll do it. This is the last thing on my schedule today, so I suppose I’ll survive the headache.”
Mikah smiled widely. “So how does this work?”
“I just need to relax… but that’s easier said than done.”
“One second, I have an idea,” Mikah said, jogging toward the far wall of the gymnasium. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle. Practically skipping back toward me, he handed it to me.
“Drugs? Seriously?”
“It’s not illegal,” Mikah said. “An herbal concoction I threw together in class. Helps with my anxiety.”
I looked at him incredulously. “You made this?”
“Mostly passionflower and valerian root. Nothing complex.”
“I know nothing about any of that,” I admitted. “How many should I take?”
“Two usually does it for me.”
I nodded, gently shaking the bottle until two makeshift capsules landed in my left palm. “You’re sure this is safe?”
“Completely. I mean, I don’t think you’re supposed to take these herbs if you’re pregnant.”
I cocked my head sideways and shrugged. That certainly wasn’t an issue. There was more action in most old folks’ homes than I’d had in the last several months. In fact, as I understood it, there was more action in most old folks’ homes than the
re was in the French Quarter on a Saturday night… so I guess that wasn’t necessarily an effective comparison. Still, the pregnancy risk was exactly zero.
“One second,” I said, jogging toward the water fountain on the far wall of the gymnasium. “I can’t take pills dry.”
You don’t have to do this… if you don’t want to.
“No, I do,” I said, tossing the pills into my mouth before guzzling a mouthful of water from the fountain. “Not to mention, it’s worth testing this herbal idea out. If it works…”
Could come in handy… if we need my abilities.
“Worth a shot,” I said. “Just behave yourself with Mikah.”
What do you mean? Isabelle asked, acting as if she had no idea what I was talking about.
“I know how you feel about him… not like I understand it. Not that he’s ugly, just…”
Isabelle giggled. He’s cute!
“Yeah, in the Steve Urkel kind of way…” We’d recently binged the first season of Family Matters on Prime. A part of my overall obsession with the 1990s—something Ashely never quite understood. Still, she begrudgingly sat through the first few episodes with me.
Urkel is cute! Seriously! Look past the character. Just look at him!
“You get my point,” I said. “Just behave…”
Before I could finish my thought, an overwhelming rush came over me… not an energy rush. Like the opposite. I took a deep breath… and Isabelle exhaled.
“It worked!” Isabelle said.
I suppose it did, I thought, somehow hearing my voice echo back to me within the ethereal chamber of my mind. Just remember that… I paused, interrupted by my echo. How the hell do you deal with this echo?
Isabelle laughed. While she used my vocal cords, technically, my voice sounded very different when she spoke. “Focus on listening through our ears, not through your consciousness. The echo won’t go away entirely, but it kind of helps me ignore it.”
I wanted to nod… but couldn’t. Instead, I felt my feet leave the ground as we skipped back toward Mikah. I hadn’t skipped in years… though I suppose if I hadn’t had any control over my legs for a while, I couldn’t rule out the possibility that I might if I were in Isabelle’s situation.
“Mikah!” Isabelle shouted. “I’m Isabelle!”
Mikah smiled widely. “I guess it worked!”
“It did!” Isabelle said, not even pretending to hide her excitement.
Play it cool, girl! I urged. Not like I wanted to encourage her to garnish Mikah’s affections, but I didn’t want her to annoy him completely, either.
“I can tell… just by looking at you,” Mikah said.
“What do you mean?” Isabelle asked.
“It’s in your eyes, kind of crazy.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve been in control,” Isabelle said, as I felt the corners of my mouth curl upward. “Our eyes don’t change.”
Mikah squinted slightly. “It isn’t the color. More like a different kind of sparkle. Less squinty and cynical. More doe-eyed innocence.”
I’m not squinty! I protested.
Isabelle ignored me, her attentions squarely fixed on Mikah. I could feel a warmth fill our cheeks.
You’re blushing… No, don’t blush!
“Ready to practice summoning your soul blade?” Mikah asked.
Isabelle nodded.
“Okay, Annabelle, if you can hear me…”
“She can hear you,” Isabelle said.
“Good. Annabelle, focus just like you did before… if you can. Try to remember what it felt like when the blade formed in your hand.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I didn’t have any control over them. What made Mikah an expert on summoning soul blades forged from multiple elementals by dual-souled bodies, anyway? Still, I had to admit, there was no harm in trying.
Isabelle extended her hand. “Beli!” she shouted with more vigor than I would have. That girl has no idea how to keep it cool.
I could feel the blade form in our hand. Again, pink and green energies swirled around it. This wasn’t the hard part… I’d managed to get this far myself. The challenge was holding onto the blade long enough to do something with it. Before, as soon as I tried to move the blade at all, the thing would dissipate back into the ether.
“Good,” Mikah said, extending his hand. His own blade, a broadsword of sorts, formed in his hand. It was larger than my blade. He gripped it with his second hand. His blade glowed with green, earthen magic. I wanted to chuckle at how ridiculous his massive blade looked in the hands of such a skinny guy. But I needed to focus…
Isabelle slowly moved the blade. I could hear it almost hum through the air and felt a strange resistance as she moved it.
“You’re doing great,” Mikah said, now swinging his blade in a figure eight. “Follow my pattern.”
Isabelle mirrored Mikah’s movements. “Does it normally feel like you’re cutting something… just when you move the blade?” Isabelle asked.
“Not usually,” Mikah said. “Try going a little faster. Both of you, hold onto that focus.”
Mikah changed his pattern to a simple circle. Isabelle followed. The faster she moved, the more resistance I felt.
Suddenly, a bright light followed the path. It felt like the blade was literally ripping through the air, cutting its way through reality itself. A heat passed from the blade through the hilt. Not enough that it burned, but I could feel it. A rush of wind passed through the hole Isabelle had cut in midair.
“What is happening!” Isabelle shouted.
“I’m not sure,” Mikah said, releasing his blade and taking hold of our hands, stopping the path that Isabelle had cut. When the energies dissipated, I looked through the hole. It was as if we’d cut our way into another world. I saw luscious greens, a flourishing forest. The wind that blew through the hole smelled sweet, clean and pure.
“Incredible,” Mikah said.
What is this place?
“I know what we’re looking at,” Isabelle said. “We’ve cut a gateway into Annwn… into Guinee.”
“The realm of the Loa?” Mikah asked.
“Amongst other things,” Isabelle said. “I’ve been there in spirit. It’s where my power comes from.”
I felt Mikah lower his hand to our waist… Isabelle turned her cheek toward his…
“It’s beautiful,” Mikah said.
“I agree. It’s an incredible place.”
“Not Guinee,” Mikah clarified. “You. Your spirit.”
I felt a heat rush across our face as Isabelle turned her cheek closer toward Mikah’s parting lips.
No, don’t do it…
I felt our lips collide awkwardly—two inexperienced kissers. And there was an odd taste. Ugh. Cherry Chapstick? I kissed a geek… and I didn’t like it!
“Ew!” I shouted, suddenly recognizing that I’d reclaimed my voice.
Mikah pushed himself away in shock. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think…”
I felt the blade dissipate from my hand, and the portal I’d cut into the ether faded with it. I looked back at Mikah. “I can see, I can sense everything when Isabelle has the reins. Next time remember that you need my consent, too.”
Mikah grimaced. I could tell he felt awful about it, even though he and Isabelle clearly had mutual feelings for each other. I had to remind myself that he’s just a guy… and it wasn’t like there were rules for what constitutes consent when dealing with someone who’s soul-bound with another person.
“I’m sorry,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have jumped on you. It’s not like most guys are used to dealing with my… situation.” I suddenly felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to my cranium. I dropped to my knees in pain, the world around me turning into a blur.
“The headache,” Mikah said. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I just need a place to lay down… a dark place…”
13
MY HEAD THROBBED as I stared at the popcorn-textured
ceiling of Oggie’s office. I was moderately impressed that Mikah had mustered the strength to carry me down the hall and up a flight of stairs, all the way from the gymnasium. I mean, he couldn’t weigh much more than me. Lifting one’s own body weight, no matter how you look at it, is all kinds of impressive. He was sneaky strong.
Isabelle hadn’t spoken once since she’d kissed Mikah. I wasn’t entirely sure if she was just avoiding the topic or if she was graciously allowing me to convalesce. She usually left me well enough alone during the span of these migraines. Typically, she’d release a little of her healing magica to take the edge off the pain. This time, though, she hadn’t. I suppose she thought it unwise to let her magica flow here… when there’s no telling who might sense it, or what they might do with it.
I rubbed my eyes.
“Feeling any better?” Oggie asked, reclining back on his desk chair with a drawn-out squeak.
“A little,” I said. “It’s faded enough that I’m not entirely useless now, anyway.”
“We should probably talk about what happened today.”
“I know, I probably shouldn’t have let Isabelle—”
“It’s not that,” Oggie interrupted. “I’m talking about your soul blade. Mikah says it cut through the veil.”
Gates of Eden: Starter Library Page 60
