Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3

by Green, M. Terry

Mayet sat back in his chair.

  “Even so, I’ve been doing some thinking,” said Mamacita.

  SK regarded her silently. Mamacita–always thinking.

  “Mayet, if you will,” she said to him. “I’d like you to tell me where Dominique’s workplace is.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said eagerly.

  “SK,” she said turning to him. “Could you–”

  “I’ll talk to Liv,” he said.

  “What will you do to Dominique?” asked Mayet.

  “I intend to help her,” said Mamacita.

  “What?” said Mayet.

  “You said yourself that it can’t be permitted. I agree but not for the same reasons. I don’t really care what’s right or not right.”

  Mayet seemed about to protest but Mamacita continued on.

  “I don’t give a fig about necromancy,” she declared, “but I won’t see Livvy hurt. I just won’t. If I have to use an enemy of hers to put a stop to it, that’s what I’ll do. The only thing I need you to do is give me her address and stop working with her. Not that you would, I know, but I need to make sure that I have her all to myself. Best to keep this simple.”

  Mayet only nodded.

  Mamacita was starting to worry SK now.

  “Dominique will kill Liv if she has the chance,” he said.

  “Oh I don’t think so,” said Mamacita. “If Livvy were to unleash her full power, no one could stand against it.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” he said.

  “I think I do,” she replied. Over the tops of her glasses, Mamacita fixed him with the patented Mamacita stare. “Would you prefer she try necromancy?”

  The prolonged silence in the room was her answer.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  LIVVY CLOSED THE last book and set it on the shelf with the others. A conjuring into the real world would probably be easier than a summoning into the Multiverse. She shook her head a little. It was ironic.

  Do I always pick the hard way?

  The answer was no, of course. Somehow, seeing her mother’s spirit in the Multiverse had seemed okay. She knew it wasn’t right, had tried to keep it a secret, but it hadn’t seemed like actual…necromancy.

  According to these books, it wasn’t. The main difference was that, in the Multiverse, they dealt with each other strictly on the spiritual plane–spirit to spirit, as it were. The living and the departed interacted regularly there.

  In the real world, Livvy would need a protective circle for her physical body. She trusted her mom, of course, but a soul returned from the dead might be disoriented, try to enter whatever body was at hand.

  Then there was the blood. At least she knew how to draw a sample. It didn’t need to be much since she didn’t intend the conjuring to be permanent–just give them a little time.

  There was a buzz from the intercom.

  Livvy shut the cabinet doors. She hadn’t been expecting anybody. She hesitated before turning off the light in the walk-in closet and glanced back at the cabinet.

  “Hold on, Mom,” she muttered.

  There was another buzz as Livvy jogged over and hit the answer button. “Yes?”

  “Ms. Lawson,” came the doorman’s tinny voice. “Ursula and Tamara are here to see you.”

  It must be about the vodun statue.

  “Send them up,” Livvy said.

  She quickly scanned the living room for any books or artifacts and then went and closed the closet.

  A light knock came from the front door.

  “Ursula,” said Livvy as she opened the door. “And Tamara.”

  They stood together, a complete contrast despite their similar backgrounds. Tamara was short, round and nervous, her dark shaman robe a bit tattered and dirty at the hem, her callused feet in thin sandals. Ursula was tall, slim, and regal, with her bright headwrap and burgundy robe immaculate. Her feet were fashionably ensconced in high-heeled boots.

  “Come in, come in,” Livvy said.

  Ursula carried a small bundle and a black canvas tool bag. The bundle was wrapped in heavy brown shipping paper sealed with packing tape.

  “Thank you,” said Tamara as they both passed into the living room.

  Ursula gently set the package on the coffee table.

  “So you were successful?” Livvy asked Tamara.

  “Yes,” Tamara nodded.

  “Very successful,” said Ursula.

  Livvy looked down at the package. “May I open it?” she asked.

  In reply, Ursula motioned to it as she took a seat.

  Tamara took a seat as well.

  Livvy carefully peeled back the brown packing tape. The one side and both ends were pretty much covered in it.

  “Rip the paper,” said Tamara, impatient.

  Impatient herself, Livvy did. As she tore it and folded it back, she found herself looking at a lump of black leather that was studded with several nails. She looked at Ursula, puzzled.

  “Turn it over,” said Ursula.

  Gingerly, Livvy lifted it off the paper and started to turn it over. Something rattled inside–a hollow sound. She stopped.

  “The treasures inside,” said Tamara. “Turn it over.”

  Livvy turned it over. “Gods!” she said, holding it away.

  The grim face that stared at her from the front of the large wooden head wore long skeins of shiny black string nailed into place. Livvy now realized it was wearing a black leather coat.

  “Dominique,” Livvy whispered.

  “Dominique,” agreed Ursula.

  The eyes immediately drew her attention. Two small almond-shaped mirrors reflected the surroundings. Livvy realized she was actually looking into her own eyes.

  “It’s amazing,” Livvy said.

  Ursula smiled.

  “Open the stomach,” said Tamara.

  A circular piece of cardboard was taped to the spot where the stomach might be. Livvy took up the tape and the cardboard came with it. The stomach was hollow and now she could see what had made the rattling sound.

  Inside she saw what looked like a hairball, an orange prescription bottle with a white cap, and a small photo. She picked up the bottle and then turned a quizzical look to Ursula. “Who is Nicole Durand?”

  “Her sister,” said Ursula, smiling. “Look at the photo.”

  Livvy picked up the small photo and turned it over. She cocked her head. “Dominique?” she asked.

  “No,” said Tamara. “Nicole.”

  Livvy stared at the woman with the short hair. “They could be–”

  “Twins,” said Tamara.

  Livvy set the wooden statue in a standing position on the paper. Its diminutive arms were flexed at the elbows and the hands rested on its hips.

  “Her sister is a secret,” said Tamara, “so Dominique does not seem weak.”

  “Seem weak?” Livvy asked.

  “What does that drug do?” asked Ursula.

  Livvy re-examined the bottle. “Diazepam,” she said. “It’s used in lots of different ways–everything from controlling anxiety and panic attacks to convulsions.”

  “What kind of convulsions?” asked Ursula.

  Livvy shrugged, considering. “It’s impossible to tell from this,” she said, putting the bottle on the table and taking a seat. “It could be anything from epilepsy to drug overdose.”

  “She has a disabled sister, possibly a twin,” said Ursula. “And she keeps her a secret because she is a liability.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Livvy. “Why is she a liability?”

  “Because Dominique is a dark shaman, she must always guard against revenge. No doubt she can protect herself but this Nicole may be another matter.”

  Livvy studied the photo of Nicole. Something about the expression on her face didn’t seem quite right. Whatever her problem might be, it wasn’t strictly physical.

  “So,” said Livvy, as she replaced the photo and sat back down, “how does this help with Dominique?”

  “They are tied to
gether,” said Ursula, “if only by blood, though I suspect by something more based on their resemblance. By using an nkondi based on both of them, you cannot fail to find Dominique.”

  “You can find Dominique before she finds you,” said Tamara.

  Livvy nodded. “And then what happens to Nicole?”

  Tamara looked at Ursula and Livvy followed suit.

  Ursula shrugged. “Unknown,” she said. “I am not aware of such an nkondi ever having been constructed.”

  “It is good,” said Tamara, excited. “It is more powerful.”

  Livvy stared at the macabre figure. Even without knowing how it worked, she had to agree. The nkondi was horrific.

  Ursula stood and set her small tool bag on the coffee table next to it.

  “What are you doing?” asked Livvy.

  “It is time to complete the nkondi,” said Ursula.

  She picked up the statue, laid it on its back on the area rug surrounding the coffee table, and knelt down next to it. The prescription bottle and photo went back into the cavity but instead of placing the cardboard over the circle, Ursula brought out an irregular candle the color of dark honey and a circular mirror. As Livvy and Tamara both watched, she lit the candle and waited. Although smoky, it gave off a pleasant pine smell.

  “Resin,” said Ursula as she watched the concave top of the candle fill with liquid.

  She held it out over the nkondi and dripped the liquid around the cavity, making several circular passes. Before the drippings could harden, she bent low over the stomach, blew out the candle in the direction of it, and quickly laid the mirror on it, sealing in the contents with some smoke.

  She sat back and nodded, apparently satisfied.

  “Is that it?” asked Livvy. “Is it ready?”

  “Not yet,” said Ursula. “The next part is to be done by you.”

  “Me?” asked Livvy. She hadn’t the first clue about vodun.

  “Come here,” said Ursula, pointing to a spot on the floor next to her.

  Livvy did as she was told and knelt next to Ursula, who was putting the resin back in the bag. She heard a metal clanking sound and, when Ursula turned back to her, she held out a small hammer and several nails.

  “Drive in the nails,” said Ursula.

  Livvy tentatively took the tool from her and then the nails. “Just hammer the nails in?”

  “Yes,” said Ursula. “But for each one, make an oath. Declare your intention for the nkondi and what you hope to achieve. Be careful of the mirrors but put nails in the face and the body.”

  Livvy stared down at it: the black hair, the leather coat, and its gaping O-shaped mouth. It just didn’t seem right to pound nails into something that looked almost human.

  “You need not say the oaths out loud,” said Ursula, seeing her hesitation.

  “It is necessary, to give the nkondi power to help you,” said Tamara.

  “Okay,” said Livvy, still unsure. “But I don’t want to see her killed or hurt. I just want to stop her.”

  “Then,” said Ursula, sounding disappointed, “let that be your oath…such as it is.” She nodded down at the nkondi.

  Livvy placed a nail on its chest, raised the hammer, and paused.

  Find Dominique, she thought and brought the hammer down.

  “Good,” said Ursula. “More.”

  One by one, Livvy pounded more nails–into the face, into the torso–and for each she gave a variation of the first oath: to find Dominique and to defeat her.

  Finally finished, she gave the hammer back to Ursula, who replaced it in the bag.

  “Dominique will stop at nothing,” said Ursula as she stood the nkondi on the coffee table. “You must use everything at your disposal. You must acquire every ally that you can. You know Ursula will stand with you.”

  “And me,” said Tamara.

  Livvy smiled and realized it was something she hadn’t done in a while. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you both.”

  She gazed at the nkondi again and pictured the surprised look on Dominique’s face when Livvy was able to find her.

  “The nkondi that Dominique uses is tied to the network box,” said Tamara.

  Livvy snapped out of her reverie. “What?”

  “How she finds you,” said Tamara.

  Suddenly Livvy pictured her own nkondi and looked at Dominique’s. It would have white hair instead of black and it wouldn’t have the black leather but…

  The thought made her shudder.

  “You must tie it to your network box,” Tamara concluded.

  Livvy nodded, still thinking of a nail-studded version with white string.

  “When?” asked Ursula.

  That’s just like Ursula, Livvy thought. Straight to the point. No reason for delay.

  But Livvy did have a reason. First, she needed to perform the conjuring.

  “Tomorrow,” she said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  THE POWER OF television is shocking, thought Dominique. Awesome but shocking. She looked out on her legion of shamans, all of them sitting cross-legged on their mats, except for the one who was lying down and wearing goggles.

  They had flocked to her, as had new clients. Even so, she had chosen carefully. Not just any shaman would do. Addicts of the old school were preferred, but they had to be comfortable with the shadowy side of shamanism. Even with those restrictions, she had managed to expand the ranks considerably.

  She nodded as she did the math. Four columns by twelve rows, except for the one empty spot where Tambourine should be. Forty-seven shamans.

  It was an army.

  The hum of their chatter, crackling of water bottles, and the occasional squeak from a rubber mat added up to a good amount of noise.

  Dominique clapped her hands twice. “All right,” she yelled. “Quiet down and listen up.”

  The decibel level dropped immediately and all eyes turned to her–all except for Pipsqueak who was still working frantically to incorporate the new arrivals.

  “For those of you who haven’t been with us before, I’ll expect you to get with those who have to learn the details.” She walked to her left, hands clasped behind her back. “Suffice it to say, this will be a pre-planned and coordinated operation and you’ll need to know which column you are in.”

  She nodded to the one at which she had stopped. “This is column one.” She strode in the opposite direction.

  “Column two,” she said passing. “And so forth.”

  She came to a stop, front and center. “We don’t have an exact ETA this time, so I’m ordering everyone restricted here until further notice.”

  There was some grumbling in the back.

  Dominique strode down between the columns. Heads whipped around as she passed and the shamans in the back looked as though they wanted to melt into their mats.

  “Have I made myself clear?” she said.

  “Yes, Dominique,” they said.

  She glared at each of the shamans in the last row, not sure where the grumbling had come from. None could hold their gaze with her and each looked down at their mats.

  She turned and strode back to the front. Her boots thudded on the cement with an echoing sound in the silence. Front and center again, she turned around smartly.

  “Keep lots of water nearby. And, as usual, there’ll be plenty of drugs, anything you want, when we’re through.”

  There were nods and exchanged looks.

  “This is it,” she said “We’re going to do it this time. You follow me and I will lead you to the top. We will claim not only victory but we will have what is rightfully ours–respect for our power and the rewards that are fit to match it.” She paused to drink in the eager looks on their faces. “You follow me and we cannot lose.”

  That she knew with certainty because, despite the overwhelming odds this number of shamans represented, she still had her secret weapon. Only a fool would keep using the same tactic if it didn’t work.

  And she was no fool.

  CH
APTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  WHATEVER IT WAS, Livvy knew it couldn’t be good. Min and SK both wore serious expressions. They had called from the lobby although Min had a key.

  “We know about the necromancy,” said SK.

  “We’re here to ask you to stop,” said Min.

  Min had taken a seat in one of the chairs. SK was standing next to her, hands in pockets. Both watched her carefully as she sat on the couch.

  Stop the conjuring, she thought, looking at them. Oh, is that all you want? Sure, why not. It was just a whim. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She started to laugh quietly, though she didn’t smile.

  “It’s not a joke,” said Min.

  “Well, you’ve got that right,” Livvy said. She let her hands drop into her lap. “Say what you have to say.”

  Who had it been this time? Dominique again? Maybe Mamacita?

  “Liv, don’t be like that. We’re here to help,” said SK.

  “Be like what? Do I seem upset?”

  “Yes,” they both said.

  “Well, if you think this is upset–”

  “Livvy,” said Min, beginning a count on her fingers. “It’s wrong, it’s unnatural, it’s forbidden–”

  “Thanks for the top ten list.”

  “Liv, stop it,” said SK, his voice strained.

  The more upset the two of them got, the more calm she felt.

  “It’s dangerous,” said Min, finishing.

  “Oh no,” said Livvy, mocking. “Really? Well then, never mind.”

  SK folded his arms over his chest and she could see his jaw muscles working.

  “Yes, never mind,” said Min. “Just stop it. Let your mother go.”

  Livvy looked her in the eye but Min didn’t back down. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Livvy, a cautionary tone in her voice.

  She glanced at SK. He hadn’t told Min about how her mother had died, had he? The thought of it made her back go rigid.

  “Everybody loses a parent, eventually,” said Min. “We’re all going to go through it if we live long enough.”

  So SK hadn’t told her.

  Which is worse? she wondered. SK, who knew exactly why she needed to do the conjuring or Min, who was clueless? Livvy shook her head.