by Sara Clancy
Thrusting forward, Marigold ripped one of the candles from an unseen hand. It peeled off with little resistance, the wax dripping down to burn her palm. With the candle held tightly before her, she spun and bolted into the sea of faces. She didn’t attempt to avoid them, and instead bowled through them, knocking each one aside as she was finally able to escape her fixed point. Each face felt like skin pulled tight over a balloon as they brushed against her. They dragged against her in a sickly slide but didn’t slow her down. Each candle she passed flicked out of existence and the darkness set in rapidly to fill the space and devoured the faces. She shielded herself with one forearm and kept running, her own candle held out before her like a shield. But the hound still found her. With each glance back, she found it closing in, streaking like a comet through the line of darkness she had created.
Suddenly, she burst out of the field and stumbled into a pit of nothingness. There was no longer ground beneath her feet but she didn’t fall. No air against her skin. No sound. No temperature. No light that came from any other source than the small candle in her hand. Marigold spun around and glanced back as the seemingly endless cluster of faces and lights. Their border formed a near perfect line. A razor sharp separation between them and emptiness. The hound slowed its pace as it neared the borderline. It stalked towards her, filling the darkness she had made with crackling embers.
She took a step back, feeling herself move more by will than because of any physical means. This is your head, she told herself even as her chest heaved and her eyes remained focused on the monster before her. This is your mind! The hound stirred as she lifted the candle to her mouth, crouching low to release itself in a powerful leap. It soared across the distance separating them. Marigold blew out the candle and felt the world tumble away.
***
Louis could feel the sheriff at his back. She left only a few feet separating them as she shadowed him back into the waiting room. Cordelia and René hadn’t moved from their position and continued to clutch each other’s hands like a lifeline. Both of them purposefully ignored the original officer that now sat by their side, his eyes boring into them with anything less than subtlety. So I guess I wasn’t the first one the sheriff had decided to have a chat with, Louis thought as he drew closer. They both looked up to meet Louis’ eyes with barely concealed worry. He gave them a light smile, trying to offer some kind of reassurance.
“Take a seat,” Sheriff Berret said with a near cheerful smile.
The metal legs of the chair scraped over the tiles as she pulled up a chair. Louis turned to see the woman tap the back of it twice in invitation.
His mouth moved before he thought about it, “Thank you.”
Berret’s smile grew, “What a polite young man.”
“His mother raised him right,” Ma said as she strode closer.
Berret turned to her, barely able to keep her smile in place. “Where were you?”
“I was trying to get an update on our dear Maggie,” Ma replied smoothly as she held the sheriff’s gaze.
“And?” Berret asked.
“They won’t tell me anything.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be around her until we sort this out.”
Ma sunk into a chair, her spine straight and her eyes level, “Now why would you want me to do that? The poor girl has had such a rough time lately. She deserves to see a friendly face when she wakes up.”
Berret nodded, “Now, I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation why your son and this lovely young couple were transporting a girl, with two broken legs, through the bayou using a sheet that has satanic symbols scribbled on it. But you must admit that this is the sort of thing that raises a few questions. Call me paranoid.”
“I didn’t go anywhere near Maggie,” Ma promised. “I just talked to some nice nurses at the counter.”
“I’m going to need you to stop doing that as well.”
“If that’s what you think is best,” Ma said simply. “Are you letting anyone visit her? I hate to think of her being alone.”
Louis flinched as Berret deliberately scraped another chair along the floor. She positioned it so that all of them were now sitting in a circle, and sat down with a contented sigh. For a moment, it didn’t seem like she was going to say anything at all and the silence ground against Louis’ nerves. It took all of his willpower to keep his leg from jumping with the anxiety that pushed through him. When she finally did speak, it was with an almost conversational tone.
“You’re a voodoo priestess, aren’t you, Mrs. Dupont?”
“I am.”
“I’ve heard of you,” she said. “Not much, mind you. It’s not really my belief structure. But your name has come up a few times in conversations. You’re pretty famous in certain circles.”
“I suppose I should be flattered.”
Berret propped the ankle of her left leg on the thigh of her right, “Do you do much conjuring?”
“Some,” Ma said. “But there is a very important difference between the voodoo religion and root work.”
“Do you know any … what do they call it?” Berret hummed as she pretended to search her memory, “Black magic?”
“I know of it,” Ma said.
“But you don’t do it?”
“A key factor in the voodoo religion is that the universe has a way of keeping order. We believe that whatever you send out will come back to you eventually. I make it a point to keep things positive.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But you know the symbols on the sheet Marigold was wrapped in, right?”
“Again,” Ma said with a slightly narrowing gaze. “I know of them. Voodoo is a completely different religion than Satanism.”
Berret once again nodded; a gesture that meant nothing but still put Louis on edge. “You know, it’s the strangest thing. Those symbols were drawn in blood and there’s a cut on Marigold’s hand. It’s odd to think a little thing like that would practice Satanism.”
“It is,” Ma said. “But then, many people act out of character when grieving.”
Berret nodded, “That’s possible. But what are the odds that she did all that just before having an accident? And no one saw anything. Three other people on the boat and no one saw anything.”
Ma was silent for a moment, only raising her eyebrows as Berret looked at her expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” Ma said easily. “I didn’t catch your question.”
“I’m sure you can infer it.”
Ma only crossed her legs and leant back with a flawless air of innocence. Berret tried to wait her out but her attention failed to provoke a single reaction out of the other woman. Louis slipped his gaze over to his mother, wishing he could mirror that kind of calm conviction. But any serenity he might have been able to garnish had been lost the moment he had seen the swarm. Louis had known that, despite the demon being contained, it wielded a certain air of influence. Making someone hallucinate wasn’t beyond its current abilities. What bothered him was why it had chosen to show him a child. It was clear why it would select that kind of imagery to torment Marigold. Family had meant everything to her. She had practically raised Jasmine and had looked forward to a child of her own one day. But for him? He had so many other sore spots for it to attack, why would it choose the same theme? It was the fact that it hadn’t dug deeper, hadn’t opened an old wound with a rusted blade that made him worry. Why would it pull its punches?
“Louis?”
He snapped back to attention to find Berret staring at him.
“I’m sorry?” he mumbled.
“Now, what’s got you so distracted?”
Louis held her gaze and he said with all honesty, “I’m worried about Maggie.”
“So wouldn’t you want to help me find out what happened to her?”
“Yes, of course. But right now I care more about what is going to happen to her.”
Berret narrowed her eyes, “What’s going to happen to her?”
“I don’t know. That’s what bothers
me.”
“Well, figuring out what happened to her might help her a lot. Where do you think she would have learnt those symbols?”
Louis shook his head. “Internet?”
“You didn’t teach her anything?”
“My son knows that there are certain lines you don’t cross,” Ma cut in. “Which might be why things went so wrong. If she had told Louis that she was attempting to mess with forces beyond her understanding, he would have taken measures to stop her.”
“You think ghosts broke her legs?”
Ma didn’t miss a beat, “I think they’re responsible.”
“No offence, Mrs. Dupont,” Berret said as she leant forward and fixed Ma with an icy glare. “I don’t think ghosts can do that.”
Ma glared back with just as much venom. “It doesn’t matter what you think. It matters what Marigoldwas thinking.”
“What can I say? I guess I’m just not a believer.”
A smile tipped Ma’s lips. “Your opinions don’t bother them all too much.”
Chapter 4
The cobblestone road refused to yield as Marigold bounced over it. She pulled her arms in and tried to roll with the blows. Her shoulders ached with each tumble and she was barely able to keep her head from smacking against the road. Finally, she came to stop, face down and groaning with pain. Staying as still as she was able to, Marigold mentally checked to see if any of the pain that riddled her was coming from something broken or bleeding. It surprised her to find that she was, more or less, intact. She cracked her eyes open and instantly winced away, another groan working its way out of her chest. After staying so long in complete darkness, the dull light drove into her eyes like daggers. Still on the ground, Marigold waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark blue light that draped over the world around her.
She took her time and slowly opened her eyes again to find herself in the middle of an oddly familiar street. But she couldn’t quite place it. Broken and rusted, buildings lined each side of the street, the blue light turning the slightest shadows into inky pools. The structures loomed over her. When she looked at them they stood straight but when she looked away they seemed to curve over her like grasping fingers. She got to her feet as she realized where she was. Bourbon Street. She had only ever seen the tourist street as it served as the vibrant heart of New Orleans, crowded with tourists and locals alike. Now it stood around her, abandoned and broken, and bathed in an alien glow.
The ground was solid and smooth against her feet, still carrying a trace of the day’s warmth. Not knowing where else to go, she continued down the road, her eyes searching each shadow. There had to be a way out. A way to fit her conscious mind back into physical control of her body. At least maybe to talk or see what was going on. Were they okay? she wondered as she strolled the decimated roads. She had no way of knowing if their plan had even worked. If they had survived. She wrapped her arms around her waist. A coursing wind slipped through the ruined buildings. It didn’t create a howl, but instead, produced a sound akin to a whale’s call. Starting as a deep, resounding sound it rose through the scales to a higher pitch. It wavered, rising and dipping, but never stopping. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled at the sound.
The whale’s call continued, pulling her attention away from the buildings that had begun to creep in towards her. Humidity lingered in the air, thick enough to gather into droplets on her skin. They rolled down her spine and along her neck, provoking a flurry of shivers. She held herself tighter, feeling the street narrowing as she walked. She stilled as a new sound rose over the haunting melody. A deep rumbled echo passed her, shaking the ground under her feet and rattling the air.
With an unrelenting groan, the world began to tremble and shutter. Dust rose in billowing clouds from the buildings as they began to fall. In unison, they crumbled into broken rubble. The ground began to drop away, leaving the debris to drop down into the emerging chasms. The dust clouds swelled and rolled out to meet Marigold as she began to run. The air was filled with the scent of seawater and the roar of crashing waves echoed in her ears. Chunks of cobblestones broke away under her feet, forcing her to run faster or join the stones as they plummet down the now hundred foot drop. She could hear the breaking waves crashing against the now forming cliff.
She ran down the street but she couldn’t escape the crumbling destruction. Ocean spray drenched her skin as the wind whipped her hair. The sound of the breaking waves became all that she could hear. A massive hunk of the earth in front of her snapped off and fell. She locked her feet, almost tipping over the edge before she was able to catch herself.
Catching her breath, she looked down into the vibrant blue water below, capped with thick foam. The night didn’t darken its color. Each wave hit the side of the cliff with a resonating boom. She felt each vibration within her chest. The wind pressed her clothes against her skin, carrying a stifling humidity that made it hard to breathe. The unearthly cry of the whales curled around her as her hair twisted across her face.
Her breath slowed as she felt eyes upon her. She turned away from the destruction to glance over her shoulder. Fire emitted from the hound as it edged towards her, each talon clicking against the stones. Its lips peeled back, exposing a flash of fangs that glowed in the tainted light. She heard the voice once more, rattling unbidden in her skin.
Let me in.
She shifted back, the heels of her feet tittering on the edge of the precipice.
Be good, Marigold.
The hound took a step forward and she cast her eyes back over her shoulder at the surging chaos below. Each one of her senses screamed at her that it was real. The unfathomable height turning her insides to icy sludge.
Let me in.
The hound leapt for her and Marigold jumped. The air took her within a second and she began to drop. The wind screamed as it raced past her ears and pulled at her clothes. Her heart studded. Her lungs froze. She squeezed her eyes and helplessly prepared for the moment her flesh found the stones below.
The waves rushed up to meet her. Within a second, she was swallowed by the raging waters. But the tide didn’t batter her against the stones or tumble her into the swell. Opening her eyes she looked up to find herself suspended in a near consuming darkness. There was one point of light, miles above her, which shone bright enough to create vibrant blue rays that set the water alight.
She was sinking. The light grew smaller the deeper she plummeted into the depths. A small whisper echoed through her head that she needed to get that light. Move, she ordered herself. Her limbs were heavy and thick as she began to pull herself up towards the light. Marigold had never felt as tiny as she did while trying to drag herself towards the surface. The light grew, casting its glow into more of the still water, turning it into a mimicry of spun glass. She struggled harder, fighting the drag that pushed against her skin. She lurched closer to the surface, and the spot of light became transparent.
Tentacles, far thicker than her very body, rose up from the nothingness deep below. They unfurled around her, towering over her and like living skyscrapers. She couldn’t feel their motion in the water as they curled around her, tightening and coiling as they blindly searched for her. The light became blinding. She pushed herself harder, attempting to slip past the enormous tentacles. Marigold lurched and thrashed, bringing herself closer to the mirror-like surface. The light burned like fire, blinding her. She thrust herself into the engulfing light just as the tips of the tentacles wrapped around her ankles.
***
Louis clenched his hands around his forearms until his nails dug into the skin. He kept hearing the soft cries of an infant. Each time he twisted to the sound he had expected to be met with the flesh eating insects and the cluster of bugs. All he ever found was a happy couple with a living newborn in their arms. Berret noticed that he was on edge and her eyes narrowed each time he fidgeted in his seat. He knew he looked suspicious, but he couldn’t make himself stop.
A sudden scream broke through the tension of th
e waiting room. Louis’ chair clattered across the floor as he bolted towards the double doors. Before Barret could stop him, he burst through the thin doors and barreled towards Marigold’s blood-chilling screams. Doctors and nurses were already filing into the room. Within her never-ceasing screams, he heard Marigold call his name. He pushed through the crowd even as Berret grabbed at the back of his shirt, letting the material rip and ignoring her demands for him to leave.
Marigold was splayed out across the thin hospital bed. The small frame rattled and thrashed as she struggled to sit up. A stunned Nadia backed against the wall, allowing the nurses to rush forward and attempt to hold Marigold down. A doctor hurried to check her vitals, yelling out commands that Louis didn’t understand. His name ripped from Marigold’s throat in broken gasps as she clawed at the air like she was crawling out of a grave.
“I’m here,” he said as he grabbed her hand, squeezing until she turned her gaze to look at him. Her grip tightened on him like he was a lifeline. “I’m right here, Maggie. You’re okay. We’re okay.”
“It’s going to find me,” she gasped.
“Just hold on a little longer,” he said, squeezing harder. “We’re going to get through this. Just hold on.”
Her hand was iron in his, her palm sweaty as she fixed him with wide eyes. Tears trembled from her lashes as she gasped and stuttered. Each breath was broken and pained. She gagged and water sloshed from her mouth. Gush after gush. Until her sheets were soaked and water trickled onto the floor.
“Help me!”
“I will,” he promised as her grip tightened. “I’m right here.”
Louis was forced aside as the medical staff rushed forward to help the drowning girl. The windows rattled as Marigold screamed and slammed back down against the bed. Her shriek hadn’t had time to fully dissipate from the room as her eyes began to grow cold. Her breathing evened out and her face shifting into an unreadable mask. Louis watched the change with a blast of fear. He staggered back, his shoulder brushing against Nadia’s as he kept his eyes on Marigold.
