Chasing Power

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Chasing Power Page 5

by Sarah Beth Durst


  Kayla tucked her voodoo doll back on the shelf and thought that Selena was likely right. “We’ll be careful. Can you give us an address?”

  Daniel turned the laptop around to face him again. “Photos are better. I use images, not words. The more precise the image, the more precise the jump. Also, the less draining. Hardest jumps are the ‘just hop over there’ kind where ‘there’ is some vague faraway spot.”

  “Hey!” Selena grabbed the laptop and turned it back toward her. “Working here.” She typed more and then rotated it again. The photo was of a street in New Orleans with old-fashioned lampposts; wrought-iron balconies; and buildings with pink, blue, and green peeling paint. One had green shutters around the door, a yellow skeleton in the window, and a black sign over the porch that read VOODOO SPELLS AND CHARMS.

  “That’s it!” Kayla said. She opened a drawer and plucked out a pretty chiffon blouse. She pulled it on over her bikini top. There, she thought. Slightly more respectable for seeing a queen.

  “Hold hands,” Daniel instructed.

  “Oh, no, thank you.” Selena scooted back on the futon so fast she nearly flipped the laptop off her lap. “I don’t have the special magic mojo. I’m here purely as technical and emotional support.”

  “But you’re involved,” Daniel said.

  “In a peripheral kind of way.” Selena wiggled her fingers to shoo them away. “Go on, you crazy kids. Tell Auntie Selena all about it when you get back.”

  “But we might need you,” Daniel objected.

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble I’d be in if my parents found out I went to New Orleans? Call me a coward, but I’m not risking it. When my mom’s disappointed, she gets this little crease in her forehead that I think I can scientifically prove is perfectly designed to trigger the ultimate guilt trip. I’m talking the kind of guilt that has you believing you’re scum of the earth. And she does it all without saying a word. It’s like magic. Believe me, I’ve had enough of it lately.”

  Outside, the chimes sang, and the gate squeaked. Kayla jumped up. Out the kitchen window, she saw Moonbeam wending her way through the garden toward the house. “Speaking of mothers … ,” Selena said, pointing out the window. “Looks like fun and games are over.”

  Kayla spun back to Daniel. Never mind his fear, anger, whatever. Moonbeam was home, and his problem would have to wait. “Can’t go now. My mom’s home. You have to—”

  Before she finished her sentence, his hand clamped onto her wrist, and the cottage vanished in a flash of white, black, then gray. Humidity closed around her. Air squeezed her skin, and she felt as if she were breathing soup. As her vision steadied, she saw they were on a street made of cobblestones, next to an old-fashioned streetlamp, and across from the stretch of pastel buildings she’d seen in the photo, including the voodoo shop. The only differences from the photo were the two police cars parked in front and the police tape stretched across the door.

  “Take me back,” Kayla demanded. “My mother’s home!”

  Daniel strode toward the voodoo shop. “I’ll take you home when we’re done.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t understand.” Lunging forward, she caught his arm. “Moonbeam takes protectiveness to an exciting new level. If I’m not home when she comes home—”

  “Your friend will lie for you,” he said. “She seems resourceful.”

  “Selena is not a good liar. She embellishes. Seriously embellishes. You have to take me back. After Moonbeam’s asleep, I’ll come with you. I swear.”

  He peeled her hand off his arm. “After I talk to the queen.”

  That would be too late. Moonbeam was home now. In a few seconds, she’d find Selena and no Kayla and no decent explanation. “I’ll scream to the police that you kidnapped me.”

  “Then you can find your own way home.” Daniel’s face was flushed red. “You don’t understand how serious—”

  Kayla cut him off. “Wait. Why are the police here?” Two police cars. And police tape across the door. Without deciding to move, she crossed the street, heading toward the shop. Daniel followed, hurrying to keep up.

  He caught her shoulder, stopping her, just as two police officers emerged from the store. They removed the police tape as the door swung shut behind them. One of the officers held a notebook. Kayla sent a thought at it, trying to tug at the pages, but the policeman was clutching it too tightly. Pretending she was interested in a store window that advertised scented soaps, Kayla loitered with Daniel on the sidewalk as the policemen conferred by their cars and then got in and drove away.

  Without a word or a glance at each other, Kayla and Daniel jogged in tandem toward the voodoo shop. Daniel tried the knob. Locked. He knocked on the door as Kayla peered in the window. Behind the skeleton, drapes blocked any view of the shop interior.

  From inside, a woman’s voice called, “We’re closed! Can’t you see?” She had a thick Southern accent that stretched each word like taffy.

  “We’re looking for Queen Marguerite,” he called through the door. “Do you know where we can find her?” On the street, a few tourists glanced at them. Leaning against the shutters, Kayla tried to look casual. She felt her heart thump hard. Police tape and two cop cars. She had a bad feeling about this, even though they’d taken down the tape and hadn’t exited with a body or anything like that.

  “Not available, y’hear? Come back next week.”

  Daniel leaned against the door with his shoulder, as if he wanted to bash it down but was holding back. His body was tense. His fists, clenched. “It’s an emergency. My mother’s in danger, and we think she’s the only one who can help.”

  “Queen Marguerite can’t help nobody right now. She’s helping herself. Kindly go away and come back when we’re open again.” A horse-drawn carriage clattered by. If they stayed much longer shouting through the door, they were going to draw too much attention.

  She did not need this kind of delay. The faster they could resolve this, the sooner she could be back with Moonbeam and Selena. Kayla whispered, “Can you jump us inside?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Not without seeing it.”

  “Then move.” Kayla positioned herself in front of the doorknob and concentrated on the lock. The tumblers inside shifted and clicked, and the door popped open. She pushed it open wider, and Daniel stepped in. Squeezing in with him, she peeked over his shoulder.

  The store had been trashed. Display cases had been broken, and shards of glass littered the wood floor. Dolls had been eviscerated; their body parts lay on the ground. Skulls had been shattered, and masks had been torn from the walls. Bottles had been smashed. Liquid oozed over shelves. Plastic bags of herbs and powders had been ripped open, and crosses were strewn over the floor, crushed.

  In the center of the chaos, a woman was sweeping shards of glass with a twig broom. She was undeniably the woman from the photo, but much older. Wrinkles had crunched her cheeks and squeezed her forehead. Her eyes were sunken into folds of skin, and her lips were cracked as dried earth. She wore a full skirt and blouse, plus a multicolored scarf around her head, knotted at the nape of her neck. Seeing them, she glared. “Out! We’re closed!”

  “I’m very sorry, ma’am, Your Majesty, Queen Marguerite … but I have to talk to you,” Daniel said. “It’s life or death.”

  “Everything always is. Now, shoo!” She swung the broom as if to sweep them out, and Daniel stepped back through the door, driving Kayla outside too. The woman, Queen Marguerite, muttered under her breath, and Kayla heard a hint of musical words—she was uttering some kind of spell. The door slammed shut on its own, and Kayla heard locks click.

  Daniel put his hand on Kayla’s wrist. White. Black. Brown. They were inside again, on the opposite side of the shop, behind Queen Marguerite. “Daniel,” Kayla whispered. Queen Marguerite was the real deal, despite all the crushed kitsch on the floor. Maybe they shouldn’t bust in here.

  “We don’t mean any harm,” Daniel said. “My mother told me to talk to you.”

 
Queen Marguerite spun on her heels to face them, very quickly for a woman who looked as old as she did. “Back again?” Broom held like a staff, she scampered closer, and Kayla retreated, pressing against a wall. An antlered mask, hanging by only a frayed thread, pressed against her. Stopping a few inches from Daniel, the voodoo queen stared at his face, then her eyes widened, the whites standing out brilliantly against her dark skin. The tone of her voice changed. “Evelyn’s boy. Well, well. Pity she involved you too.”

  “You know my mother? Involved me in what?”

  “In this! Look at my shop! My life’s work. My mother’s life’s work. This shop was her and my legacy, and now it’s … it’s … Words fail me. Your mother has failed me. She led them to me. Leave now. I abjure you and yours.” She waved her hand as if to wave them away.

  “How do you know my mother? Who did she lead here? Was it her kidnappers? Did they do this? Were they looking for the stones? Did they find them?” The questions poured out of Daniel’s mouth like water from a pitcher.

  “I have no children, no apprentice, no heir. Only this place! And now it’s destroyed!” With a groan, she knelt in the middle of the mess. She scooped up several of the voodoo dolls and decorated skulls and rocked them as if they were broken children. “I can’t help you. I can’t help nobody when my heart is scattered like leaves in the wind.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if to block out the world.

  Daniel bent to pick up a ripped pouch. It had almost-letters on the leather. “Things can be fixed or replaced, but people, like my mother, can never—”

  Both Kayla and Queen Marguerite shouted, “Don’t touch that!” With a sigh, the voodoo queen dropped the dolls and skulls and heaved herself to standing. “There’s too much mixed-up magic. You’ll end up cursing yourself or worse if you touch anything. Best leave it where it lies. Most likely, I’ll have to condemn the place and see it destroyed. I’m sorry, boy. Nothing anyone can do about this mess—or about your mother—now.”

  “You can help!”

  Queen Marguerite barked a laugh. There was no humor in it. “You don’t want my help. It ain’t worth nothing now. You don’t want broken magic. I had this place chock-full of protections, and they tore through it all. They didn’t like the answer I gave them, you see.”

  “What answer?” Daniel demanded.

  “I told them their power wasn’t right to find what they sought. They disagreed. They thought they had power enough. And indeed they are powerful. All my juju couldn’t stop them. So perhaps they are right, and they’ll find what they seek and the world will suffer.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?” Kayla asked. “Who did this to you? Who took his mother?” Picturing a gang with masks and guns, she wished she weren’t involved in this. Given the level of destruction, she bet they had baseball bats or even sledgehammers. Possibly a steamroller.

  “Don’t waste my time with questions you already know the answer to. In fact, don’t waste my time at all. I won’t, and can’t, help you. Best leave an old woman to her misery.” She waddled toward a door at the back of the shop. After seeing how fast the voodoo queen had moved earlier, Kayla was certain the waddle was an act. It would be a mistake to underestimate her.

  Jumping over the glass shards and trampled crosses, Daniel chased after her. “I won’t go, not until you help me. My mother’s life is at stake!”

  Intercepting him, Kayla caught his arm. “She doesn’t want us here. Remember: Ira Reginae Dolorem. We should leave and come back later, after she has her shop fixed. Maybe then she’ll be in a better mood.”

  He shrugged her off. “I won’t take no for an answer. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Kayla swore under her breath. This had already taken too long. By now, Selena was probably drowning Moonbeam in lies. The only question was how pissed Moonbeam would be when Kayla came back. If she came back. If Daniel didn’t piss off the voodoo queen so badly that the woman broke out her real magic. She’d already done one spell with the door. Who knew how many tricks she had up her puffed sleeves?

  Think, Kayla. Daniel wasn’t going to leave until the voodoo queen helped them; the voodoo queen wasn’t going to help them while her shop was trashed. Well, Kayla was uniquely suited to fix that … so long as her mother never found out.

  She’d be careful. Queen Marguerite and Daniel were both in the back room, and all the shutters were closed. No one could see her. Really, it wasn’t so different from when she cleaned the cottage while Moonbeam was at work.

  Sitting on a stool, Kayla concentrated on the shards of glass. Shifting several at a time, she sent them skittering across the wood floor. Larger chunks she left alone—they were too heavy to move with her mind; she’d need a broom for those—but there were hundreds of little bits. Soon, she had them in a pile. She grinned to herself. See? Not so hard.

  Switching her attention to one of the wall displays, Kayla scooted together the scattered herbs and powders. She divvied them up as best she could, treating them like the sugar grains she’d moved before. Sweat prickled her skin, and the humid, motionless air made her skin feel sticky and her throat feel thick.

  She wondered how much she could do at once. A lot of the charms and dolls were light, as were the contents of the gris-gris bags. Reaching out in multiple directions, she brought the shop to life. Powders swirled through the air in little dust devils. Liquids retreated back into their bottles. Herbs dove into bags. She began to feel light-headed, as if she were about to float into the air. She’d never done so much magic at the same time. It was intoxicating.

  Daniel popped into the middle of the room. “Kayla, she’s—What are you doing?”

  Charms tumbled from the sky. Herbs, the ones not yet in bags, scattered as they fell. Catching doll parts with her mind, she stowed them on a shelf and then sent the remaining items flying into a broken display case.

  The voodoo queen charged in. She skidded to a stop and stared as the last bits of broken glass tumbled into a pile. Kayla held her breath. Did she see? she wondered. She couldn’t have seen. Kayla had been quick. She waited for the voodoo queen to react, to say something, to say anything.

  Queen Marguerite burst into laughter, the sound shaking her entire body.

  Kayla looked from Daniel to the queen and back again. Confusion was written on his face, and tension was woven into his muscles. Kayla leaned against a display case and tried not to pant too obviously as Queen Marguerite wiped her eyes and bent over her knees to catch her breath. “What one destroys, the other heals. I admire the symmetry, that I do. And I thought you were only here because of his pretty face—oh, it is so glorious to be wrong!” Marguerite continued to chuckle. “Sit yourselves down and I’ll make us sweet tea.”

  “But you said … ,” Daniel began. He trailed off as Queen Marguerite waddled out of the room again. “She threatened to skin me alive. I thought she meant it.”

  “She seems to have changed her mind,” Kayla said mildly.

  Crossing to her in three strides, Daniel caught her hands in his. “You did this! I failed. And you … You’re amazing. Seriously, amazing.”

  Kayla flushed. Queen Marguerite might have been impressed with her cleaning skills, but Daniel knew exactly how she’d done it. She was used to hiding her power; she wasn’t used to being admired for it. He was looking at her like she’d transformed into a movie star. She wormed her hands out of his. “All I did—”

  Her phone rang. Moonbeam.

  Moonbeam wouldn’t think she was amazing, if she knew.

  All the euphoria from using her power faded. She stared at the phone for a solid half minute, and then she shut it off. She wasn’t ready to lie to her mother yet. Especially when she didn’t know what kind of nonsense Selena had already spewed. Better to claim the battery died than be caught in a (bigger) lie. “Moonbeam is going to flay me.”

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it, but that didn’t change the fact that she was royally screwed. Suddenly feeling exhausted, Kayla cast around for a place
to sit. She spotted a stool that hadn’t been smashed. Sinking onto it, she massaged her temples. She hadn’t moved so many things at once before. Her head pounded. Daniel was still looking at her with something akin to worship, which was nice, albeit disconcerting since she’d already decided not to like him.

  “Did she curse you?” Kayla asked, partially to change the subject and partially because it would be good to know if he was about to die a horrible death.

  “Almost. Popped out of there before it could take.”

  “You really have no people skills.”

  Queen Marguerite returned with a tray that held a pitcher of tea and three mismatched empty jam jars for glasses. A stack of Oreos was on a plate. She set the tray down on the corner of a broken display case, precariously perched. “Cleaning is thirsty work. You must have worked up an appetite.” She was right; Kayla felt so drained she didn’t want to move. While the queen bustled over to her shelves, Kayla flicked an Oreo off the plate. Concentrating, she sailed it through the air. Pinpricks of pain burst like fireworks in her head. She reached out and caught the cookie before she lost control. Wincing, she rubbed her head again. Probably should have stood up and fetched it like a normal person. She was tapped out.

  Humming, Marguerite returned with several bones and a candle. She positioned the candle in the center of the room and patted her pockets as if looking for a lighter. Wordlessly, Kayla handed over her lighter. The queen lit the candle and began to waft the scented smoke around the room. Kayla took the lighter back and pocketed it.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty,” Daniel said, all politeness and faux patience, “but we don’t have time for a snack. We’re looking for two stones—”

  Marguerite held up one finger to silence him. It didn’t work.

  “Did the people who did this, who wrecked your place … did they find the stones?”

 

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