Suddenly, they swayed again, but this time it was unintentional. Livvy grabbed her mother’s arms and managed to keep them both upright.
“Livvy, what’s going on?”
If Livvy hadn’t known better, she’d have said it was an earthquake. Even as she thought it, though, she knew it wasn’t. There was no rumbling, no sound, no vibration, nor did the glass of any of the surrounding buildings move. Even so, she and her mother were having trouble staying on their feet. In fact, they were starting to slide toward the fountain.
“Mom,” said Livvy, still holding on to her. “It’s gotta be the Multiverse.”
The ground was tilting noticeably now.
Livvy looked up to the sky but wondered how lightning would help. Wind? Maybe a whirlwind? She reached a hand upward but the ground tilted wildly in answer.
Her mom’s arm was wrenched out of her hand. “Livvy!” she screamed.
Then Livvy lost her footing and slid.
Below her, she saw her mother tumbling out of control, heading toward the fountain. But like a giant game where they were the marbles, the angle of the tilt changed and Livvy’s mom just missed it. No sooner was she past it, though, then the tilt changed again.
Alvina was right, Livvy thought as she careened toward the waiting water. This was never going to work–not in the Multiverse.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
MAMACITA SEPARATED THE books from the incense and candles, sliding them into two neat piles on the counter. Livvy hardly noticed as she shelled a peanut for Pete and tossed it into the cage.
“Not a conjuring,” Mamacita said.
Livvy’s head whirled toward her faster than her hair could keep up and it washed across her face.
Mamacita sat back on her stool. “Don’t try it, baby,” she said. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Livvy felt her face flush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly.
“Huh uh, no,” said Mamacita, shaking her head. “Not with me. You know better.”
“Are you going to sell me the books or not?”
Mamacita ignored that. “I know about the summoning, child. There’s no point in pretending.”
Gods, did everybody know? Had SK told her?
“Dominique was here,” Mamacita said, answering the unspoken question.
“Dominique!” Livvy said, her voice rising. “I’m sick of hearing about Dominique!”
“You’ll get used to it,” Mamacita said, all mildness.
What? Was that a threat? From Mamacita?
Outside, lightning flashed.
Mamacita peered over her glasses toward the front window and then back at Livvy. “Livvy, honey,” said Mamacita. “I’m not saying this to cause you pain. That’s the very last thing I’d want to do. I think you know that.”
Livvy didn’t reply. What was she leading up to?
“I’m saying this because I love you, child, and don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Mamacita patted the books on the counter between them. “Leave these here.”
Livvy glared down not even seeing them. Dominique had been here. She must have tried to turn Mamacita against her. Had maybe succeeded.
Gods, not Mamacita.
“I can’t,” said Livvy through clenched teeth. “I have to have them.”
“No,” replied Mamacita, looking at her over the glasses. “You don’t.”
Was everybody going to tell her what she could and couldn’t do? Who she could and couldn’t be? Who she could and couldn’t be with?
There was another flash of lightning and the sound of thunder.
“You can’t help everybody,” Mamacita said, shaking her head. “You can’t fix everything, though you might try. By all the gods, how you try.”
“Are you going to sell them to me or not?”
“No,” said Mamacita. “But I’ll–”
Livvy inhaled deeply. “No?”
“Let me finish, child–”
“No?” Livvy yelled as rain lashed the window. “Well as everybody is so fond of reminding me, I’m the freaking lightning shaman. The once in a generation shaman, lucky me,” she yelled, unable to stem the frustration. “How about if someone trusts me for a change? Didn’t question everything I do? Even the shopkeeper is going to question me now!”
“Livvy–” Mamacita said, a warning tone in her voice.
“No, Mamacita! I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to be the lightning shaman! And now I can’t even–”
Livvy thought of SK and stopped. What was the use?
And now Mamacita and Dominique?
“Why, Mamacita?” Livvy moaned. “Why would you believe her but doubt me, after all this time?”
“That’s exactly why,” said Mamacita. “Because after all this time, I know you, honey.” Mamacita shook her head slowly. “After all this time, don’t you know me?”
Livvy shrank back at the real hurt in Mamacita’s voice. A sudden pang of regret pushed down the rage she felt for Dominique. Tears stung her eyes.
Mamacita pushed the books toward her.
Livvy stared down at them.
“You’re going to sell–”
“I’m not going to sell them to you, I’m going to give them to you,” said Mamacita. “No charge. You should have let me finish.”
Livvy reached out and took them in shaking hands.
“But, for your own sake,” said Mamacita. “Don’t bring a spirit into this world. Don’t tamper with that kind of power.”
Livvy tucked the books under her arm and avoided Mamacita’s gaze. “I don’t have a choice,” she said, her throat tight with the effort of not crying.
She headed to the door and raised the collar of her coat against the rain outside.
As the bell above her tinkled, she heard Mamacita’s soft voice from the counter. “There’s always a choice, baby. You’ll see that one day. Don’t–”
Livvy quickly opened the door but paused.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Mamacita said.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
URSULA WATCHED AS Tamara entered through the draperies, backing into the room as was proper. She turned around only when she was completely through the door and it had closed. According to the rules of Ursula’s loa or patron vodun spirit, the entire world was inverted: right was wrong, up was down, and backward was forward.
“You will be pleased,” Tamara said, stopping at the doorway.
In response, Ursula rose from her chair and stepped toward the crackling fire. On the mantle above it, two glass bottles waited–one large, one small. She took them both and, in only a few graceful strides, stood in front of Tamara, holding them out to her.
“These will help you…” Ursula paused, trying to remember the phrase that Tamara had used. “These will help you get clean.”
Tamara stared, her eyes grown impossibly wide, and slowly extended her hands to receive them.
Ursula gave her the large bottle first. “To help your body rid itself of toxins.”
Tamara took the bottle but her eyebrows knitted together in worry. Ursula watched as she silently mouthed the word ‘toxins.’
“Toxin,” said Ursula. “Poison.” She waited. “Pwazon.”
“Pwazon!” Tamara said. “Yes. I must be rid of the pwazon. Um, toxins.”
Ursula nodded.
“For sleep,” she said, as she gave Tamara the smaller bottle. “For the dreams, the tightness in the chest, the sweating.”
Tamara took the bottle but stared up at Ursula with a look of wonder. “You know?”
“Yes, Ursula knows. Ursula remembers.”
There was quiet understanding in Tamara’s face. She clutched the bottles to her chest.
“Mési anpil,” she whispered. “Thank you very much.”
Ursula slowly nodded and then indicated a small, high, glass-top side table, just left of the fireplace. “Show Ursula what you have brought.”
Tamara gingerly set her bottles down
and dug into the pockets of her robe. She brought out a brush and laid it down.
A brush with hair. Excellent, thought Ursula. Excellent.
Then Tamara brought out a wallet-sized photo and an empty prescription bottle and laid them there as well.
Ursula came closer. “The hair will be more than sufficient for–”
“Dominique has a sister,” Tamara burst out, grinning.
“What?” said Ursula.
“I found these in her bag,” she said, picking up the photo. “This is her.”
“A sister?” asked Ursula, taking the photo.
“I know,” said Tamara, almost giddy. “They can be twins.”
“Could be twins,” Ursula corrected.
“Could be twins,” Tamara repeated.
Ursula looked at the photo, puzzled.
“Yes,” said Tamara. “You do not know Dominique. If this woman had long hair, she could be Dominique.”
“How do you know it is not?”
“In her wallet there is a family photo, two girls together, who look like little Dominiques,” said Tamara. “Anyway, the one photo Dominique has of herself is from the army.”
Ursula raised her eyebrows but then scowled. The Haitian military had been disbanded years ago–good riddance. Dominique would have been too young. Maybe Tamara had meant the National Police. Even that was nonsense. The only women they tolerated were prostitutes.
She examined the photo again and picked up the empty prescription bottle. “Nicole Durand. Diazepam,” read Ursula. “What is it for?”
Tamara shook her head. “I do not know.”
Ursula placed the photo on the table and put the bottle on top of it. She moved the hairbrush on top of it too.
“Sisters,” she said.
“A secret sister,” said Tamara. “She does not talk about her but…” Then Tamara realized where the sister had to be. “She goes across the alley. That is where she is.” Tamara regarded the bottle. “Something is wrong with her and she is a secret.”
Ursula nodded.
Practicing the type of shamanism Dominique did it was no surprise she kept her family hidden. Eventually someone was bound to take revenge, probably by targeting someone close to her. Dominique should have divested herself of all such connections long ago but perhaps her sister wasn’t capable of being on her own.
“One nkondi,” said Ursula, nodding at the items on the table. “For both of them.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
THERE HAD BEEN just a hint of a swagger as Mayet had entered Mamacita’s office, then he saw SK. Now, he looked apprehensive. Apparently Mamacita hadn’t told him that he’d be here.
Good for you, Mamacita.
SK stood but didn’t offer his hand. “Mayet,” he said, looking down on him as much as their difference in height allowed.
“SK,” answered Mayet.
As they took their seats, Mamacita closed the door to her office and then she joined them.
“I was surprised at your message, Mamacita,” said Mayet.
“I don’t doubt that,” she said, settling down. “But I think we need to get all our cards on the table.”
“You said,” began SK, “that we might be working at cross-purposes.”
“Well, I like it better the way you say it,” she said. “But, yes, I think we might be pulling in opposite directions.”
“In what way?” asked Mayet, glancing at SK.
SK had also been surprised to get Mamacita’s call. In all the time he’d known her, she had never called him–only the other way around. He had been less surprised to hear of Mayet, though not pleased. Los Angeles was easily dense enough for more than one shaman intercessor, even more than one water baby, but Mayet was clearly out to expand his territory. It took some nerve to come here unannounced. Intercessor etiquette would have dictated that Mayet contact SK first–not to ask permission, necessarily, just a polite heads-up. Mayet had already known the reception SK would have given him.
“Well, first, let’s talk about Dominique,” said Mamacita.
SK nodded.
“Dominique?” said Mayet. “What about her?”
“I’m sure you didn’t know,” said Mamacita soothingly, “but she attacked Livvy in the Multiverse and was responsible for the death of Claire Stockard.”
Mayet quite literally sputtered, even coughed a little. “What? When?”
“Two days ago, in the afternoon,” said SK.
Mayet’s eyes flicked to the floor remembering.
“No,” he said. “No, I was there.”
“Yes, I know you were,” said Mamacita.
There was an awkward pause.
“No,” said Mayet. “No, you can not possibly think–”
“I said that you didn’t know,” said Mamacita, holding up a hand.
“I did not know,” Mayet insisted.
“I’m sure,” said Mamacita.
Mayet glanced at SK. Everyone knew he worked with the lightning shaman. They had apparently been working against one another.
“She was clever,” Mayet implored. “She lied.”
SK ignored him. “Tell us what you saw,” he said.
“But how was I to know?” Mayet asked Mamacita, almost whining.
“By being an intercessor,” SK shot back at him.
“Gentlemen,” said Mamacita. “Please.”
Mayet swallowed as SK continued to glare at him.
“Mayet,” said Mamacita. “Tell us what happened.”
Tiny beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and he licked his lips. “She had a client,” he said to her. “No doubt someone just pretending.” He studiously avoided looking at SK. “The network was huge. I’d never seen one before. Everything was home-made.”
“So you were at her home?” asked SK.
Mayet shook his head, still not looking at him. “No, I don’t think it was anybody’s home. More like a workplace.”
“But you know where it is?” asked Mamacita.
“I do,” he said.
SK looked at Mamacita. They could get to Dominique.
“Fine,” said Mamacita, nodding. “That’s just fine. We’ll leave that for later.”
There was a brief silence and Mayet took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow and head.
“I know you don’t know…” Mamacita said.
SK realized she wasn’t talking to Mayet. He turned to see her looking at him.
I don’t know what?
“Livvy is going to attempt necromancy.”
Mayet jumped down from his chair. “By all the gods!” he said.
“What?” said SK, hardly hearing Mayet.
“Now calm down, the both of you,” said Mamacita. “Let’s just everybody calm down.”
“It can’t be permitted,” exclaimed Mayet.
“I know that, I know that,” said Mamacita, holding up both hands.
“It’s insanity,” he continued.
“Mayet, please, sit down,” said Mamacita.
Mayet looked at her and then at SK but took his seat.
“Did she tell you that?” SK asked, his calm voice surprising him.
“She didn’t say it in so many words,” said Mamacita. “But the pattern in her purchases was clear. So, yes, you could say she told me.”
Necromancy. SK shuddered at the thought. The room had become very quiet and they all remained silent for several seconds.
“Do you know anything about it?” SK finally asked Mamacita.
She slowly shook her head. “Same as you,” she said. “It seems like every religion back to the Stone Age had their conjured spirits, welcome and unwelcome. I’ve heard it said that a shaman who conjures a spirit risks being possessed by them. They say a shaman who uses necromancy gives a bit of their own life.”
SK nodded. It went against the very structure of the Multiverse and yet there were those for whom it held a macabre fascination–maybe because it was so dangerous. Liv wasn’t one of those.
“I know so
mething about it,” Mayet said.
SK shot a look at him. Well that figures.
“No doubt you have heard,” Mayet said to Mamacita.
“There is little that I don’t hear,” she confirmed.
Mayet took a deep breath. “A mistake of youth,” he said sadly. “Of pride. It nearly ended my career before it began.” Mayet paused, remembering. “At the bedside, right after the death of the client. The shaman would not give up, would not come back to the real world. There was something personal between them. When I realized what might be taking place, I…” He glanced at SK. “I decided to lend my aid.”
SK held his face rigid.
Mayet looked at his hand as he tentatively extended his arm in front of him. SK couldn’t help but stare at it as well, knowing the power that a water baby could add.
“It was not enough,” said Mayet. “I was not enough. For just a moment, the shaman’s eyes opened and she stared at me, but I knew instantly it was not her.”
Mayet fell silent.
“What happened then?” Mamacita asked.
“She died,” he said quietly, grimacing at the memory. He shook his head and looked up at Mamacita and then SK. “By all the gods, what would ever make her attempt it?”
SK knew what. It was her mother, particularly the way she had died.
Had she kept this from him as she had the summoning? No, he couldn’t believe that. She had poured out her soul that day. Of that, there was no doubt. Something must have happened since he’d last seen her. Was this the result of hearing Alvina’s news?
“Who knows what a lightning shaman could call forth,” said Mayet. “She has to be stopped.”
Mamacita nodded.
“That’s why I bring it up,” she said. “But I’m not sure we can.”
“I do not understand,” Mayet said.
Mamacita recounted the weather, a phenomena SK recognized all too well. Then there was the electricity, all around her. The power of the Multiverse practically overflowed from her.
“She is the lightning shaman,” she concluded.
Yes, that’s for sure, thought SK.
Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3 Page 52
