Midnight Dolls

by Kiki Sullivan

  I expect my grandfather to look amused, but instead, he appears to be considering my words seriously. “You know,” he says after a moment, “sometimes the way we respond to people the first time we meet them is a sign of what lies deep within our hearts, in the places we can’t quite reach. Remember, Eveny, you’re not like other people. You have magic in your blood, and that means that your intuition—your ability to read others—is that much stronger. Maybe deep down you’re reacting to who Bram really is and feeling a connection with him because of that.”

  I nod slowly. “It’s how I felt when I first saw Caleb too. Like something I couldn’t explain was drawing me to him.”

  “Are you sure it was the same thing? The same way you felt for Bram?”

  I consider this. “Yes. But what does that mean? How could I feel that way for two guys?”

  My grandfather frowns. “I don’t know, Eveny.” He begins to cough, and then he stands. “In any case, my dear, I need to get some rest.”

  “Oh.” I’m disappointed. “Okay.”

  He smiles. “It will all work out, my dear,” he says. “Just follow your heart. Eventually, it will tell you what to do.”

  17

  I skip dinner that evening, because I don’t want to face Caleb. Besides, I don’t have much of an appetite. My insides feel like Jell-O, and I have the uneasy feeling that something terrible is about to happen. All has been quiet in Carrefour today, but I realize I don’t believe that the evil lurking in the shadows has really disappeared.

  I wander outside just after nightfall and find Boniface carefully trimming my mother’s roses in the darkness.

  “What are you doing out here so late?” I ask.

  “Missing your mother,” he says. “On nights like tonight, I find myself thinking of all the things that could have been.”

  “Nights like tonight?”

  “Nights where the world feels unsettled,” he says. “Don’t you feel it?”

  My heart thuds a little harder. “I thought it was my imagination.”

  He looks off into the distance. “No. I think you just have very good instincts, my dear.” He turns back to me and pulls a tiny sachet, not more than an inch square, from his pocket. It’s pale purple and laced with gold ribbon. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to give this to you,” he says, handing it to me. “Your mother made me promise that if there were ever a threat to your life and safety, I would make you one of these from the flowers and herbs she loved most. It has Rose of Life petals to help keep her close to you, sage to sharpen your wisdom and clarity, and fig leaves for luck and protection. She was very specific about the ingredients.”

  I lift the sachet to my nose. It smells strongly of my mother’s favorite flower, the hybrid she created with my dad. “Thank you,” I say.

  “Keep it close to your Stone of Carrefour, and when the time is right, I believe you’ll find the answers you’re meant to find.” He reaches over and ties it firmly onto my long necklace, just beside my stone.

  “But . . . how?”

  “By trusting yourself,” he says. He kisses me gently on the cheek, and as he walks away, my Stone of Carrefour heats up and buzzes against my chest, as if it’s directly reacting to the sachet that now hangs beside it.

  I sit by myself in the garden for a long time after he goes. There are so many questions swirling in my head about what to do. Peregrine and Chloe seem to believe the threat to the town is gone right now, but I’m becoming more and more confident that they’re being naive. And the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I need to talk to my sister queens about the possibility of reaching out to Main de Lumière. Some could be your allies, Megan had said during the possession ceremony. I believe she was telling the truth, and if there’s a chance she’s right, I need to look into it.

  I find myself thinking of the brief andaba training my father gave me in the garden. “Con mi sangre, regreso a su intención,” I say aloud, holding up my andaba cuff. I wish that the words could somehow send all of my confusion back to the people who are making me feel like this.

  There’s an increasing pressure on me to choose one magical tradition over the other, or at least to show allegiance to one town over the other. But what if I don’t choose? Both zandara and andaba are centered around a need for sisterhood or brotherhood; we’re always stronger when we cast with others. But what if I already have a higher level of power within me because of my strange blend of both forms of magic?

  What if andaba and zandara coexist within me, making me different from everyone else who has come before me? What if I’m only weakening myself by trying to figure out where to fit? Perhaps it’s not about fitting in but rather about charting my own course. I suspect I won’t be able to do anything truly powerful on my own—you need three zandara queens or three andaba rulers to enact powerful magic. And all logic dictates that andaba and zandara shouldn’t be able to mix; my ancestors on both sides specifically set up their magical traditions that way to protect themselves and their descendants.

  But what if my very existence overrides those rules?

  Suddenly, I’m convinced that if I can somehow summon Captain Cabrillo using my zandara herbs instead of the blood and muerte dust used for andaba, there might be some truth to my theory. I probably won’t be able to get Cabrillo to actually do anything for me without the help of the other kings—or at least until I get better at harnessing my magic—but I’m desperate to know whether my zandara and andaba can work together.

  I stand up and close my eyes, trying to remember exactly what happened in the ceremony on Caouanne Island. I think I can remember the words to the andaba charm my father chanted, but the key will be figuring out whether I can use zandara flowers and herbs to call Captain Cabrillo.

  My mind spins through the various herbs I’ve learned about over the last few months. Finally, I settle on hollyhock, a plant closely linked with summoning helpful spirits. I know there’s some growing on the side of the house, so I quickly go and grab a handful of its pink and purple flowers before returning to the garden.

  I take a deep breath, pray this will work, and begin. “Guardabarrera, ¿está usted ahí?” I say aloud, knowing that my Spanish accent is probably terrible. “Dejarnos entrar, señor. Dejarnos entrar,” I chant a moment later, repeating the words of my father’s andaba brothers.

  I don’t remember much else, but this seems to be enough. Once I’ve repeated “Dejarnos entrar, señor. Dejarnos entrar,” twice more, the air suddenly feels thin.

  “Captain Cabrillo?” I venture into the silence. “Are you there?”

  There’s no reply, but I realize that the night air is now devoid of even the chirping of crickets or the far-off croaking of frogs in the swamps. I’ve managed to do something. I take a deep breath and continue.

  “I know this isn’t traditional,” I say, “calling on you like this by myself. But if you can hear me, well, please, I’m begging for your help.”

  Still, nothing happens, and my heart sinks. I stand there for a moment, feeling dejected, until I realize that if I’m invoking zandara herbs, perhaps I need to do so using zandara traditions, even if I’m ultimately calling on Cabrillo. So I try again, chanting the words to summon our gatekeeper. “Come to us now, Eloi Oke, and open the gate. Come to us now, Eloi Oke, and open the gate. Come to us now, Eloi Oke, and open the gate,” I say, and in an instant, the air grows thicker and heavier. There’s a low rumbling, like thunder, all around me, and I wonder if it’s the two spiritual worlds pressing up against each other.

  I turn my attention to my Stone of Carrefour and try to clear my mind. “Hollyhock, I draw your power,” I say, focusing on the flowers in my hand as I feel my stone heat up. “Please, zandara spirits, help me to communicate with Captain Cabrillo, who assists my andaba brothers in the nether.”

  For a second, there’s no response. But then, the rumbling stops, and a faint wisp of fog begins to materialize in front of me. Within a few seconds, I can just barely make out
the face of a man.

  “Captain Cabrillo?” I ask, although the image is much less clear than it was when he materialized from the smoke of a fire on Caouanne Island.

  “I am here,” a deep voice hisses, and I recognize the accent. My heart swells with relief.

  “It’s . . . it’s Eveny Cheval,” I say.

  There’s silence, and for a moment, I’m sure he won’t reply. But then he says, “You summoned me alone?”

  I can’t tell if he’s angry or just surprised. “I—I wasn’t sure I could do it. But yes.”

  “Remarkable.” The cloud swirls and shakes a little, and I can see that he’s laughing. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible. Perhaps you really are the miracle they fear you are.”

  “Who? Main de Lumière?”

  He pauses. “Yes. Among others.”

  “Who else?”

  “You will see one of my sailors through?”

  I’m confused briefly, but then I remember that in the ceremony we performed on Caouanne Island, my father promised one of Cabrillo’s men safe passage to the other side—heaven, I assume—in exchange for assistance. “I don’t know how.”

  “Speak with your father,” Captain Cabrillo says. “I cannot help you for free.”

  I nod. I should have expected that. “I’m sorry. I only wanted to see if I could summon you. I forgot that I’d have to pay you.” I feel like an idiot. “It’s different in zandara.”

  “In zandara, you have other forms of payment,” Captain Cabrillo says. “Possession ceremonies, I believe. I don’t ask that of you. But my help comes at a price.”

  “Of course. Look,” I say quickly, “while you’re here, can you just answer one question for me?”

  The cloud swirls silently, and I’m afraid Cabrillo won’t answer. But then, finally, he responds. “It depends what the question is.”

  “Are we still in danger? Can you tell me that?”

  He considers the question. “I only answer you, Eveny, because I see how great your power is and how useful you can be to me in the future. So the answer to your question is this: the enemy may be focused on you, but I believe it is your sister queens who are in danger now. They are seen as expendable, a means to an end.”

  “They’re in danger? Now? From whom?”

  “That is all I will say until you have something for me in return.”

  My heart is thudding. “But you say they’re a means to an end? What end?”

  He chuckles. “You, Eveny. You’re the end goal.”

  “Me?”

  “Don’t summon me again until you can pay the price. Adiós.”

  And with that, Cabrillo and his cloud of white smoke are gone, whisking upward until they disappear. The air pressure returns to normal, and I stand there in the darkness, breathing hard.

  “I can’t believe I just did that.” But before I can feel any pride over having summoned Cabrillo alone, using zandara instead of andaba, I’m overwhelmed with concern for Chloe and Peregrine. I have to warn them.

  I consider briefly stopping in the house to let Caleb know where I’m going, but an image of him with another girl fills my head. I shake it away and hurry out back, through the cemetery. Cabrillo said I wasn’t in jeopardy at the moment. I have to believe that’s true—for now at least.

  18

  “You’re in danger,” I blurt out when Peregrine opens her front door twenty minutes later. Audowido is around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a skimpy pink robe and a facial mask that looks like it’s made of red clay. I have no doubt that it’s one of the magically charmed beautifying masks her mother uses.

  “Hello to you too,” she says, stepping aside and gesturing for me to come in. “What is it this time?”

  “I summoned Captain Cabrillo,” I say quickly as she shuts the door behind me. “He said that my sister queens are in danger. Peregrine, I think this means the gate ceremony didn’t work. Or maybe the threat is from people who are already here, like Mrs. Potter. Either way, we have to—”

  She cuts me off. “Wait, wait, wait. Go back. You said you summoned Cabrillo? That andaba spirit?”

  I nod.

  “By yourself?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “The hell it’s not! You’re coming over here telling me you’re doing powerful andaba on your own, and I’m not supposed to react to that?” she asks. “Mom!” she calls, her voice shrill.

  I can hear her mother click-clacking down the hall. A moment later, she appears in the doorway to the parlor, Chloe’s mother behind her. They’re both wearing heels and long, flowing gowns.

  “Hello, Eveny,” Peregrine’s mother says, looking me up and down.

  “Hi, Ms. Marceau. Ms. St. Pierre.” I gaze at them nervously.

  “Mom, Eveny is practicing andaba,” Peregrine says.

  “Is this true, Eveny?” Peregrine’s mother asks.

  I glance at Peregrine, but she’s focused on her cell phone. I know she’s texting Chloe. I’m beginning to feel ganged up on. But then I remember I haven’t really done anything wrong.

  “Look,” I say, drawing myself up to my full height. “Yes, I used andaba. But I used zandara too. I’m not choosing one over the other.”

  Peregrine’s mother snorts. “Could have fooled me.”

  “Wait,” Chloe’s mother says. “Just give her a chance to explain.” She turns to me. “Eveny, go on.”

  I nod at her gratefully. “Zandara and andaba coexist in me, okay? I can’t do anything to change that, and I don’t want to. I think they’re like . . . yin and yang. Or something. Two halves of the same whole, but they make me who I am. This is me.”

  The mothers stare at me. “Eveny, that’s nonsense,” Peregrine’s mother finally says. “Yin and yang? This isn’t ancient Chinese philosophy. This is real life. What if the spirits who help us think you’re defecting? I’m sorry, but the longer you spend flirting with the idea of embracing andaba, the more damage you could be doing to us.”

  “But that’s not true,” I say. “I’m not doing any damage. I’m just existing. I’m being myself.”

  “Well, your mother would be very disappointed in you,” Peregrine’s mother says.

  I can feel tears stinging my eyes. “No, I don’t think she would be. I think she’d be proud that I’m finding my own way.”

  After a moment, Chloe’s mother speaks up. “You need to be who you are, honey. We may not understand. But we’ve never been in your shoes.” I’m surprised to hear her say this.

  “Scarlett—” Peregrine’s mother begins in a warning tone.

  “No, Annabelle,” Chloe’s mother cuts in. “Eveny’s mother was always different from us, and so is Eveny. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s the differences that will save us in the end.” She nods at me once and holds my gaze for a long time, then she grabs Peregrine’s mother’s arm and begins pulling her toward the front door. “Come on, Annabelle. I think the girls have had just about enough input from us. Let’s head over to my house and let them talk this out amongst themselves.”

  Peregrine’s mother follows Chloe’s mother, muttering to herself. Just before they disappear, Chloe’s mother shoots me a small smile, then she closes the door behind her.

  When I turn around, Peregrine is glaring at me.

  “Chloe’s on her way over,” she says. “And then we’re going to talk about this.”

  “Good! We need to figure out a way to protect ourselves.”

  “I mean we’re going to talk about whether you can use andaba,” she says. “We need to set some rules here, Eveny.”

  “No. We don’t. That’s my decision. What we need to talk about is the fact that you’re in danger.”

  “According to your ridiculous andaba spirit,” she says, rolling her eyes. But an uneasy expression flickers across her face, and I know I’ve gotten to her.

  “Peregrine, you know as well as I do that when we receive a warning like this, it’s important we listen.” I take a deep breath. “We need to d
o something.”

  She stares at me for a long moment, then nods. “Fine.”

  As she turns and begins walking toward her living room, I hide a smile. I know I’ve won this round.

  Chloe arrives ten minutes later, looking concerned.

  “Did your mother tell you about what Eveny said?” Peregrine asks after ushering her into the house.

  She shakes her head. “She wasn’t home yet when I left, and I didn’t see her on my drive over.” She turns to me. “Eveny, what happened?”

  I carefully recap exactly what Cabrillo told me.

  “He called us expendable?” Peregrine asks when I’m finished. “You can’t tell me that’s not extremely insulting.”

  “I don’t think he meant it as an insult,” I say. “I think he was explaining how Main de Lumière views us.”

  “Apparently they don’t view you that way.” She glances at Chloe. “What do you think we should do?”

  “I think the three of us should figure out a way to protect ourselves,” Chloe says.

  “But we are protected,” Peregrine says. “Don’t you remember doing the ceremony to restore the gate?”

  “If the gate was breached once,” Chloe says, “it could be breached again. Maybe Main de Lumière has found a way to manipulate our charms.”

  “Impossible,” Peregrine says, but she looks worried.

  I finally muster the courage to say what I’m thinking. “I think we should try to meet with them,” I say. Both girls instantly stop talking and turn to me with wide eyes.

  “Meet with Main de Lumière?” Peregrine says.

  I nod. “Megan, the spirit who possessed me, said Main de Lumière has some sort of internal division. It’s what my grandfather said too. If that’s true, maybe there’s a way to ally with one of the sides.”

  “Did you smoke something before you came over here?” Peregrine asks, her expression incredulous. “Because you’re really not making any sense.”