by Cutter, Leah
“Good,” Orlan said. “’Cause I can’t help you anymore.”
Kai stopped abruptly, holding herself upright and stiff, a terrible déjà vu crashing over her. “What do you mean, you can’t help me anymore?”
“You were right,” Orlan said.
Muffled noises came over the phone. What was he doing? Normally she only heard the clicking of keys when he called.
“My security measures weren’t enough. Hell, they’re laughable.”
“What happened?” Kai asked. A honked horn startled her, making her fumble her phone yet again. She waved at the car and hurried out of the middle of the street.
“The priests,” Orlan spat. “Those damn Taoist priests. They came. Here. To see me.”
“What did they do to you?” Kai asked. She pulled her arms in close to her chest, Orlan’s words chilling her like the constant wind now whipping through the narrow street.
“They started by walking through the razor wire. Didn’t faze ’em a lick,” Orlan said, clearly more pissed off than scared about that. “Then they scrambled my servers.”
“Oh darling, I’m so sorry.”
“Fucker just pointed at the machine with a bony finger and it started smoking. That’s just wrong.”
“Crap,” Kai said. “How much did you lose?” She knew his livelihood was wrapped up in those machines, in the trades he made on them.
“Not about the money,” Orlan said. “I can make that back. But these priests—they knew too much. One of them took over a monitor. I haven’t a clue how he did it.”
Magic, Kai wanted to whisper, but she kept the word to herself.
“He showed me…showed me what I looked like. When I was on the street. Had old footage of me. Then, he showed me what I will look like. When I return.”
Kai shuddered. Orlan’s biggest fear was ending up back on the street. It didn’t surprise her that they’d figured it out. What did surprise Kai was that they’d interacted with Orlan’s technology like that.
Or maybe they could do that because they’d made a pact with demons.
“I’m so sorry,” Kai repeated. “What—did they hurt you?”
A bitter laugh cracked through the line. “No. Said they didn’t need to. That I’d fall, spoiling myself, soon enough.”
“Damn them,” Kai muttered. Then she stood up straighter. “Damn them! They can’t get away with that.”
“They said they already got your mama. After you’d seen her.”
Kai hadn’t mentioned finding Mama to Orlan yet. “I was gonna tell you.”
“But you still didn’t. You still don’t trust me.” Orlan’s voice was colder than the winds scouring the street.
“I’m sorry,” Kai said, grimacing at how often she seemed to be saying that. “Look, I’ll come over and help you clean up.” She started walking toward Decatur again.
“No. Don’t bother,” Orlan said.
“Don’t be that way,” Kai said, stung.
“Didn’t you hear me? I can’t help you anymore. The priests made it damn clear what they’d do to me, a mere human, if I stayed involved with you and your kind.”
Kai stopped again. “I’m human, too,” she whispered, her heart cracking under the pain. First Caleb, then Mama, then the prince, and now Orlan?
Soon she’d have no supports left, and would crash into the water.
“I’m going away for a bit,” Orlan said briskly.
The strange muffled noises came back. Was he packing? “Don’t come by,” he added. “I won’t be here.”
Orlan wouldn’t leave the city during a hurricane, but these priests could scare him enough to run?
“I won’t try to find you,” Kai promised, her heart breaking. “If you ever want to see me, well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me.”
“Goodbye,” Orlan said firmly.
“Goodbye.” Kai hung up the phone, her hand dropping to her side.
Shit. Now what?
Maybe Caleb would help her find a talisman. It wasn’t like Orlan would have been able to help with that anyway.
But Caleb had already said he couldn’t help Kai anymore, because of the priests. And Kai didn’t want them visiting Caleb or his brothers.
The only person she had left to turn to was the professor.
No matter how high the price was, she needed his help now.
* * *
Winds pushed against Kai’s building all night. She dreamed they chased her, trying to push her off smooth rocks and endless concrete streets.
Kai woke up with a start, saving herself before she fell. She groaned when she looked at the clock. Her alarm hadn’t gone off, or maybe she’d slapped it silent without even waking up. So she’d already missed the professor at the Clover Grill.
Which meant she’d have to go to his shop. Damn it. The day was getting off to just a great start.
The professor ran a voodoo shop in the Quarter. Though it had posted hours, it was really open only when he felt like it.
The place creeped Kai out. The front room wasn’t much bigger than two picnic tables shoved end-to-end. No sunlight dared cross the front windows. Thick purple curtains hung beside the openings, just in case, holding in the crypt-like cold, holding out the living.
Kai wanted to take her time getting ready, but the news warned that Ingrid was gaining speed.
Evacuations were starting.
Kai belatedly called Papa, relieved to hear that he’d already made it to Baton Rouge and wasn’t caught in the miles of bumper-to-bumper traffic the news showed. She promised him that she’d be safe, then hung up.
Chances were, the professor wouldn’t be at his shop. But Kai didn’t want to try to find his house. She wasn’t sure she could, and if she did, what kind of intrusion he’d take it as.
The winds had died down and the sun had come back out. But the air felt heavy; not just humid, but weighty.
Or maybe that was what Kai filled with dread and anxious anticipation.
Of course, the bars on Bourbon Street still belted out their music. But the streets weren’t packed, traffic wasn’t at a crawl. There was room to walk. It was surprisingly empty for a Saturday.
Too many remained, though. The ones who couldn’t get out, who wouldn’t leave the city or their house, their family, or their job.
Kai stopped by CC’s to get her coffee. Neither Amita nor Marcus were there. When Kai asked the sullen boy behind the counter about them, he said they’d both bugged out.
Kai drew a deeper breath. She didn’t care about Marcus, but she was glad Amita and her son were safe.
The Come in, We’re Open! sign on the professor’s shop surprised Kai. As did the unlocked door.
The professor sat behind his mahogany desk, wearing his usual blue-and-white seersucker suit with a white shirt and black string tie. “Ma chérie,” he said, his smile chilling and wide. “I’ve been expecting you.”
* * *
Kai sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair next to the professor’s desk. Creepy gris-gris voodoo dolls looked over her shoulder from the bookcase shelves behind her. Cones of jasmine incense smoked on top of a scrolled, black iron dish. Purple and white geodes with more presence than some of the mindless tourists sat in a tight clump on her side of the desk.
The professor shook out a gauzy, purple silk cloth, about the size of a proper kerchief, and let it float down to the desk. Then he drew a set of cards out of a black velvet bag.
“I don’t know where you’ll find your talisman,” the professor said. “A being’s personal talisman is, well, a private thing. And unique to the individual. But the cards will guide you.”
“What about the blood-red talismans that human magician was wearing?” Kai asked.
“Ah, not a personal talisman, but one given to a human. They’re not that powerful. They also wouldn’t last for long, and would have to be renewed,” the professor explained as he started shuffling the cards, a calming sound.
Kai squirmed on her chair. The cloying ai
r gave her a headache and made her skin sticky. She wanted another shower. She’d already dropped a hundred in the professor’s tip jar.
Hopefully, that was enough. She was afraid it wasn’t, though. The professor was too eager to have her in his debt.
She felt like the winds had already turned her world all the way around: meeting Mama and learning she was xita, finding out that humans interacted with the xita and the court, and now, discovering that magic could work.
“We’ll do a simple three card draw,” the professor told Kai. “Content, focus, and outcome. Or as I simplify it for the tourists, sometimes: past, present, and future.” He set the deck on the table. “Cut it.”
Kai picked up about half the deck. The cards were both heavier and warmer than she’d expected. They didn’t feel powerful, but rather, empty, like a cup waiting to be filled.
She dropped a few cards back on the pile, then put what was in her hand to the side.
“Very good,” the professor said. He put the deck back together and drew the first card from the top of the deck. “The priestess,” he announced. “A woman with hidden knowledge.”
Kai shook her head. That wasn’t right. It was a woman, hidden. She stood with arms outstretched, and what looked like a net covered her. Watery blues and greens made up the background.
It was the siren, obviously. Or sirens, now.
“Any questions?” the professor asked, noticing Kai’s distraction.
She shook her head.
“The focus,” he announced, drawing the next card. “Ace of cups.”
A large blue cup sat in the middle of the card, spewing water up to the heavens. More water flowed around the base of the cup.
The professor frowned when he saw it. “Normally I’d say something about a joyous house, whose cup overfloweth. But that’s not the case here, is it?”
Kai shook her head. The focus, her focus, was that water, pouring everywhere.
“Third card, then. Outcome.” The professor hesitated. “This is heavier than I expected, child,” he said, his voice and eyes sad. “I’d thought this more a game, of give and take, favors owed and offered. But it ain’t.”
“No,” Kai admitted. “I need to find that talisman. Or the city might drown.”
Without another word, the professor turned the third card. “Ah,” he said, leaning back in his chair and stroking his flabby chin.
The card was all reds and oranges. A seated woman with her head turned in profile took up most of the card. However, she looked carved out of stone, like one of the Egyptian figures.
“The Empress,” the professor said. “Another card that’s normally about fecundity, life in abundance, the harvest and entry into life.”
“Really?” Kai said, sitting up. “So that means we’ll survive?”
“She’s reversed,” the professor pointed out. “Which sometimes influences the reading.”
“So—reversed—the opposite of life?” Kai asked, her hope dropping.
“No. I think—I think this is another clue.” The professor nodded abruptly and slid the cards together, putting them back with the rest of the deck. He started shuffling the cards again, watching his hands instead of looking at Kai. “I’m sorry, my dear. But I can’t help you any more.”
Kai wanted to scream. She was getting awfully tired of hearing those words.
“But I know someone who can,” the professor said. “That’s what the third card was about.”
“Who?” Kai asked.
“The lady in the wall. That’s what the third card meant. You must go see her. Bring her good beads and cheap whisky—”
“—and she will tell your fortune,” Kai finished. She gave a great sigh. “She hates me.”
“Oh?” the professor said, his eyes finally snapping to her. “I wouldn’t take it too personally, my dear. She actually hates everyone.”
“She told me never to come back,” Kai admitted.
“The lady swims through great streams,” the professor said. “But even she cares about this one. Go to her. If she won’t speak to you at all, then come back.”
Kai rose slowly. Her talisman seemed impossibly far away. Magic all too impossible, as she’d always believed. “Thank you,” she said, then she turned toward the door.
“Good luck,” the professor called after her. “You’ll need it.”
* * *
Normally, Kai would wait until full night before calling on the lady in the wall. But there wasn’t time: The storm would hit—or miss—that evening.
Fortunately, the lady lived on a side street in the northeast corner of the Quarter, in the residential area. In the heat of the day, the streets were quiet, as if everyone napped.
Kai knew better: Rich folk lived here, and they’d all bugged out.
The corner grocery store was still open, and still had bottles of cheap whisky.
Good beads were more difficult to find among the few tourist shops still open, but at the back of one shop Kai found glass beads, like what had been thrown at the first Mardi Gras parades.
The sun sloped down, lighting the bottom of the terra-cotta-colored wall. Cracks in the wall showed the outline of an old-fashioned woman, wearing a square hat on top of what Kai would call a bouffant hairdo. She sat at a round table, with a bustle sticking out behind.
Kai looked up and down the street, but no one had joined her. She tipped the whisky deliberately down the wall, starting at the bottom of the crack that represented the table. Then she put two strings of beads along the base of the wall, keeping the nicest—and shiniest—in reserve, just in case.
When Kai stepped back, the bright paint had faded, growing gray. Then color seeped back into the wall, revealing an elegant white woman, seated at a round white table. She wore a black-and-blue-striped hat on top of her swept up hair. Her white blouse had frills down the front, and a jacket over that, also in blue, which narrowed her waist and flowed over the bustle in the back.
Behind the lady stood a white iron bed with white covers. A black cross hung on the back wall, looking empty and ominous. Pastel watercolors covered the rest of the wall. After the corner, an open window showed a busy street with old-fashioned cars. It was what Kai thought of when she heard the word Spartan, or even dismal.
The lady smiled at Kai, showing too many teeth. “I thought I said you shouldn’t bother me again.”
“I know, ma’am,” Kai said. “But the professor—”
“That old fool,” the lady responded. “He should know better.”
“But the cards—”
“He cold cut that deck,” the lady assured her.
“No, he didn’t,” Kai insisted. “He was looking forward to having me in his debt. But he couldn’t hold me there. Not based on the cards. He seemed as surprised by the reading as I was.” Kai paused, taking a breath, surprised that the lady hadn’t interrupted again. “Now, ma’am, I know you said not to come back again. That I should go seek my own kind. Well, I’ve done that. And my own kind is causing trouble.”
“What trouble?” the lady asked.
“The storm.”
“Pishposh. The city will survive a simple storm.”
“Even if they have two sirens calling the water?” Kai challenged.
“Two sirens?” the lady asked, suddenly unsure.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kai replied. Maybe the lady would help her.
Kai waited while the lady looked past her. She knew she looked like an idiot, standing there and talking to a wall, but she didn’t care who saw her. She needed help.
The lady’s eyes turned all black, soulless, like a shark’s. The room behind her dimmed. Finally, the lady shook herself and came back. “The future is forked,” she said.
“I need a talisman to get into the place where the sirens are being held,” Kai explained.
“Ah, you need your talisman,” the lady said, nodding. “And why should I help you?”
“So the city don’t drown?” Kai suggested.
“Others
may save it,” the lady countered.
“Really?” Kai asked, but she didn’t let herself hope.
“Without you, the chances are less,” the lady admitted.
“So you should help me find my talisman,” Kai said reasonably. She still had the extra string of beads to bargain with, if it came to that.
“One’s own talisman is a very private thing,” the lady warned.
Kai nodded. That’s what the professor had said.
“Are you certain you want me knowing?”
“There’s no time, and no other way,” Kai said through gritted teeth. She didn’t want the lady in her business any more than the lady wanted to help her.
“Good,” the lady said. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Her smile with too many teeth came back, making Kai shiver. “Step closer to the wall.”
Kai rolled her eyes. Was it really that much of a secret that the lady had to whisper it?
“Closer,” the lady commanded.
Kai stepped closer, so the toes of her sandals touched the wall. She reached out with her hands low and braced herself as she leaned closer.
“Good,” the lady said.
And Kai fell.
* * *
Why the hell did all magical transformations start with that god-awful feeling of falling?
But Kai couldn’t catch herself. Fall she did, landing in the lady’s room on her hands and knees.
“Tea?” the lady asked, lifting her pot.
Kai grit her teeth together so she wouldn’t start swearing, pushing herself up. The room was just as dank and dismal as it had looked from the outside. Cracks marred the tops of the walls near the dingy, formerly white ceiling. The stench of spilled whisky mixed with the smell of old tea and a backed-up toilet. Cars honked in the street below, the sound tinny and grating.
“Please, sit,” the lady said, indicating the other chair.
Kai wanted to yell. On the wall opposite the window stood a large white door. She wanted to stomp out of it and never return…. But she had no idea where she was, what age this was, and no way of getting back on her own.
With a sigh, Kai collapsed in the chair.
“There, dear,” the woman said, false kindness dripping from her. “Much better. Tea?”
