A Phoenix First Must Burn

by A Phoenix First Must Burn (retail) (epub)

  “Do you think the Mainland still exists?” Nalah asked.

  “I don’t know,” Malik said. “But you shouldn’t worry about what lies beyond the Veil. All that matters is that we’re together.”

  Malik took her hand and placed it over his heart. Nalah felt it beat rapidly beneath her fingers, making her own pulse quicken. He slowly put his hand over her heart, which was soft and warm. Their heartbeats synced into a frantic rhythm. Nalah’s face flushed as Malik drew closer. She could see him in the moon’s glow, the boy she had known for most of her life.

  Nalah parted her lips as Malik kissed her gently. He slowly pulled away and watched for her reaction. She drew him back close. He kissed her again, deeper this time, and her stomach fluttered like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. Malik whispered her name, his voice velvet in her ear. The third kiss sparked a tingle that moved down her neck to her torso and low below her navel. She never wanted to stop kissing him. She never wanted to stop feeling the light he brought into her.

  Malik Sewell was her sun.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Although Nalah and Malik were fully in love and had claimed each other, they still had to get their union blessed. It was one of Samara Island’s sacred laws. All unions had to be approved by the Council.

  They had stood in front of Sula Church. Nalah wore a radiant yellow dress and strapped boots. Her mother had oiled and braided her hair, and it shimmered in the sun. Malik was somber in all black, his hair cut low and edged with his Council family crest. His high-collared tunic hid the birthmark that reminded Nalah of a tiny fiddler crab.

  Although her skin was still chilled from the icy air of the rover-car, Nalah didn’t rub her arms for warmth. Instead she grabbed and squeezed Malik’s hand.

  When they entered the sanctuary of the church, three men sat at the Judgment Table. One representative from each Council family. John Resby, the High Elder, sat in the middle, and the bulge of his belly strained against his purple tunic. Silas Sewell and William Barnette sat on either side of him, both in red tunics.

  “Malik Sewell, you asked for an assembly,” Mr. Resby stated. “What is the request?”

  “I want . . .” Malik’s voice cracked and he paused. “I want a union blessing.”

  “With this girl?” Mr. Resby’s light-skinned face turned red with irritation.

  “Who are her people?” Mr. Barnette asked.

  “She’s the daughter of Yem Everlasting,” Mr. Sewell said. “He was in the Nautical Guild. Sailed with the last scouting party into the Veil.”

  Nalah felt a light flutter in her stomach. Almost like the flip of butterflies when Malik kissed her, but this was something more. The Belle Hammock midwife had called it the quickening. The old woman had also asked why Nalah hadn’t prevented the pregnancy in the first place. That morning, she had tried to choose a respectable dress, but she knew no clothing could disguise the baby growing inside her.

  “How old are you?” Mr. Barnette asked her.

  “I was born in 167,” Nalah answered.

  “You’re seventeen years old,” Mr. Sewell said. “Just a year younger than my nephew here. Neither of you has even joined a Guild yet. What is the rush?”

  “I love her,” Malik said.

  “Did you trap this boy?” Mr. Resby glared at Nalah’s too-tight dress, and she moved her hands over her belly, protecting the baby from his hostile gaze. He was one of the fairest men on the island, a trait of the Mainland scientist bloodline.

  “No,” Nalah said. “Never.”

  “I willingly claim the child she carries,” Malik said.

  “You have violated sacred law.” Mr. Resby pointed angrily at Nalah. “We can’t have bastards on this island.”

  Nalah wanted to laugh. Since its inception, the Council had forbidden women to hold ruling seats. They had even removed their membership from several of the Guilds, deeming women unqualified. Of course they would only see her at fault. Only see her as the sole violator. She was more than sure the laws that these men, their fathers, and their fathers’ fathers had constructed were far from sacred.

  Malik clenched his jaw. “Since the child is already claimed, it’s already a Sewell and not a bastard. By sacred law.”

  The men at the table gathered and murmured amongst themselves. After a few moments, they turned to face them. Both Mr. Barnette and Mr. Resby glared at Nalah.

  “You have left us with no other option, nephew,” Mr. Sewell said. “The Council blesses this union.”

  Malik swooped Nalah up in his arms and swung her around.

  “Mind yourself, boy,” Mr. Resby warned.

  Nalah giggled as he put her back down and she straightened out her dress. They bowed their heads as a sign of respect.

  Now that their union was officially blessed, Nalah could come back to Sula Church as a bride. She wouldn’t be able to wear her favorite bright colors in the formal ceremony, but she could still honor the old ways by wearing a nubie charm around her ankle.

  When they had made it to the church door, Nalah hesitated and touched the wood, which was cast iron warm. She turned back to the Judgment Table, where the men were still seated.

  “All of you will be in my prayers tonight,” Nalah stated. “Don’t let the Hag ride you.”

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Nalah never returned to Sula Church as a bride.

  After the Boo Hag had stolen Malik’s spirit and killed him, Nalah walked the roads of the island north of the Old Mansion ruins all the way south to the Samara Lighthouse. Days, then weeks and months, passed. All through a dark haze, Nalah felt the loss of her love. She would lay her head in her mother’s lap and wail until her mother stopped indulging her.

  “You need to stop with this mess.”

  “Don’t you miss Daddy?” Nalah wept. “Don’t you wonder what happened to him?”

  Nalah always wondered why she had never seen her mother cry. Maybe she had shed all her tears when Nalah was a baby.

  “Crying won’t change nothing,” her mother said. “What’s done is done.”

  Nalah tried her best to recover from the intense grief but found that she couldn’t. The Sewell family in Shell Bluff paid little attention to her although she carried their blood kin, their disdain for her Everlasting lineage now apparent since Malik’s death. She was also ignored by the Elders in Belle Hammock, since she’d disregarded their warnings about getting involved with a Council boy. She spent her days as she did her nights, mourning Malik and the reality of her life. All the while, the Boo Hag continued her reign of terror, stealing the spirits of men.

  Nalah was at her lowest point when she felt the first kick of her baby, a reminder that even though Malik was gone, a part of him was still with her. The sadness slowly began to lighten.

  Four months after Malik’s death, Nalah stood in the kitchen late at night, drinking deep sips of well water. She stared out into the darkness and spotted her mother venturing into the woods without a solar lantern. Nalah hadn’t heard her leave the house. She put down her drink and decided to follow her.

  It was difficult following her mother in the dim starlight. She had ventured past the marsh and moved deeper inland to the part of the woods where island folks warned of the jack-o’-lantern. Following this ball of light could get you hopelessly lost in the wilderness surrounding Belle Hammock. Nalah had never seen this light, but now she was wary.

  She tentatively followed until her mother stopped in an open area covered with resurrection ferns. Nalah hid behind a live oak, and its Spanish moss grazed her shoulders.

  Her mother stripped naked and heat rose up from the ground, the smell of sulfur heavy in the air. Sweat appeared on Nalah’s forehead. Her mother raised her arms and chanted in an ancient tongue. Suddenly, her skin split open down her spine, revealing red tendons and blue veins. As her mother ste
pped out of her skin, a translucent slime dribbled down her arms and lingered on the tip of her fingers like molasses.

  The baby violently kicked in Nalah’s belly, and she covered her mouth to stifle a cry. The Boo Hag sniffed the air, and Nalah wondered if she smelled her presence. But then the witch quickly wrapped up Tena Everlasting’s skin and hid it in the ferns. She changed form into a large buzzard and took flight. The wind of her movement rustled the nearby cypress trees. A feral cry screeched above Nalah, and she shuddered.

  The witch had been wearing Tena Everlasting’s skin. A new Boo Hag hadn’t arrived on Samara Island: the witch had been here all along. It had been her mother that the Defense Guild had found on Carlitta Beach, shrunken and unrecognizable. It had been Tena Everlasting who had burned in the tar cauldron.

  Nalah’s mother had been dead for seventeen years.

  Nalah slid down the live oak’s trunk to the ground. Her vision blurred with black spots. Her tears burned hot with anger. The Boo Hag had brought terror to the island. The witch had even taken what Nalah had never known to miss. The Boo Hag had killed her mother and stolen her skin.

  The baby kicked again, and Nalah thought of Malik. The Boo Hag had ripped him from her life. The father of her child. Her love. Her sun. The witch had created a darkness of loss in her heart.

  Nalah rose from the ground, hatred running thick through her veins. She knew what she must do. She made a vow, one she intended to keep. Even if it was the last thing she ever did.

  Nalah would kill the Boo Hag, the witch who had taken everything.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  In Behaven Cemetery, Nalah lay still in front of Malik’s grave. The day was fading, and soon the time would come to fulfill her vow and kill the witch. She packed the spice mix of sapelo pepper and winnow’s reed and put it in her traveling bag. Nalah would wait until dusk-dark, when the Boo Hag would venture out for her next victim.

  When night approached, Nalah walked down the main road. When she heard the chilling cry of the buzzard overhead, she traveled through the woods to the same spot where she had first followed the Boo Hag three nights ago.

  Nalah sat on the ground among the resurrection ferns with her mother’s skin. She had dusted it with the spice mix and shook the skin in the bag like she was getting ready for a fish fry. Right now, the Boo Hag was on the prowl, selecting a victim to ride, taking an unlucky spirit for her own. One of the most recent victims was William Barnette, one of the Elders who had begrudgingly given her and Malik the Council’s union blessing at Sula Church. So far, all the men had been from the Council families of Shell Bluff.

  Bitterness seeped into the back of Nalah’s throat, and the familiar heat of anger rose up her arms and into her face. The Boo Hag had stolen Malik’s spirit. She had killed her mother. Nalah had been living a lie all of her life. This morning, she had wanted to throw the fire beauty juice at the Boo Hag. She had wanted the witch’s skin to burn. It had taken Nalah’s total strength to keep her from destroying the witch, but she wasn’t a foolish girl anymore. The Boo Hag would have killed her, stolen her skin, and taken her baby. Then the witch’s charade would have started all over again.

  After falling asleep among the resurrection ferns, Nalah quickly jerked up when she heard the rustle of wind and heavy footsteps. The Boo Hag appeared and shimmered in the moonlight. Slimed with blood, her muscles and blue veins bulged full of spirit. The witch’s eyes were wide sockets of blackness. The Boo Hag was in her true form, no longer wearing Tena Everlasting’s skin.

  “You dare cross my path, girl?” the witch hissed.

  “I found this.” Nalah raised the bag that contained her mother’s skin.

  “Mighty fine prize. You bold to be holding that.” The Boo Hag crooked her neck, and blood dripped down her chin. “Now, you weren’t fool enough to meddle with that skin? No need for all of us to be dead on this night.”

  “I’m no fool. I can’t run from you,” Nalah said. “Look at me.”

  “You bound to give that baby up any day now. That’s true enough,” the witch said. “Besides, you know I have no quarrel with you.”

  “You stole my mama’s skin!” Nalah blurted out in anger. “You left her on Carlitta Beach. You let them parade her down the roads like a dead dog. You let them burn her.”

  “Your mama was weak,” the witch spat. “I found her crying about your daddy. She begged me to take her life.”

  Nalah took a breath. “You lie.”

  “I didn’t even know she had a baby until I found you,” the witch said. “That’s when I decided to hold off on my ways and love you.”

  “How could you love me when you killed Malik?” Nalah cried.

  “You think I was gonna let him take you away from me? You’re mine, and your child is mine.” The witch raised her hands, and the trees whipped in the wind.

  “I’m not yours,” Nalah said. “I was never yours.”

  Small pinpricks of light appeared in the black, empty sockets of the witch’s eyes. “I don’t have time to play with you, girl. Time’s a-wasting.”

  If Nalah kept the witch out of her skin until morning, the witch would burn. But she also knew the Boo Hag would kill her before that happened.

  “Who did you take tonight?” Nalah asked.

  “Why do you care? I do a favor every time I take a man’s breath.” The Boo Hag pumped her chest, and a splatter of blood hit the ground. “I done took care of John Resby. His fancy wife, Lucy, will find him dead soon.”

  The night sky continued to lighten. Morning was coming, but not fast enough.

  “Why did you come here?” Nalah asked. “Why do you terrorize this island?”

  “I ain’t the one you should fear. Greater monsters roaming here,” the witch said. “I think the time has come for you to know the truth.”

  Nalah was caught off guard by the Boo Hag’s statement. She knew they were clever, and she didn’t know what angle the witch was playing.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Veil. It’s a lie. The Council men created that mist.”

  “That’s not true,” Nalah said. “The guilds are studying it and trying to find answers.”

  “You sure about that, girl? No skin off my back if you don’t believe me.” The witch chuckled.

  “There was a war on the Mainland. The Cataclysm . . .” Nalah faltered, now unsure of the Elder stories and what she had read in the archives. Why would the Council want to hide from the Mainland? It had now been almost two centuries since the Cataclysm. Could Samara Island be that easily forgotten?

  The Boo Hag moved closer, and the cloying smell of sulfur made Nalah cough.

  “The men on this island are the reason I came here,” the witch said. “They want to be kings and make up their own rules. Even your Malik. He knew about the Veil.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Nalah said.

  “I can see right now we ain’t gonna be the same no more,” the Boo Hag said. “You go on into that mist. You and the baby. Better life waiting for you there.”

  Nalah looked above the witch’s head. The night was continuing to fade. The Boo Hag’s time was almost up.

  “You’re trying to trick me,” Nalah said.

  “Give me that skin, girl. Go on into the mist. Leave me here to feast on the men. Take your baby and leave.”

  Spirals of pink appeared in the sky, and a bird chirped a short staccato note. The Boo Hag may have been telling the truth. The Council had only grown more restrictive. With the technology left by the Mainland scientists, the Council had the means to create the Veil. What better way to claim power? What better way to control than with fear?

  The Boo Hag had taken the spirits of men who had shrouded Samara Island from the outside world. Men who had created the fallacy of the Veil. If this was the truth, maybe these men deserved their fate. Maybe even Mal
ik. But her mother didn’t deserve her fate. The witch had killed Tena Everlasting for her skin. The Boo Hag had given Nalah seventeen years of lies. Nalah hadn’t forgotten. She had made a vow. One she intended to keep.

  She threw the bag in front of the witch, and the Boo Hag scrambled onto her arms and legs, crouching down like a crab. Then the witch shrunk to the size of a small cat and scuttled inside the bag. Nalah watched as the witch shimmied out and rose tall, wearing her mother’s skin.

  The Boo Hag stretched her limbs. “What’s done is done. You grown now. I told you about the Veil. Now you should leave.”

  Nalah stared at the witch. “You could be lying to me.”

  “I ain’t lying.” The witch pointed a finger at her. “But heed this: I’m going back to the house. If you return, you will regret it.”

  The Boo Hag slowly walked out of the clearing. The blood and gore disappeared from the resurrection ferns. The only evidence left was the bag that had held her mother’s skin.

  Nalah stood still for several moments. Soon the winnow’s reed’s soothing properties would wear off, and the sapelo pepper would burn the witch from the inside out. Nalah needed to get far away from this place in case the Boo Hag was stronger than she thought. She knew that if the witch caught her she would be as good as dead.

  She rushed out of the woods to the dirt path that led to the Turpentine River. A path she knew well from all of her nights before, when she had followed Malik to his boat. When she reached the landing, it was still there, bobbing in the water. She climbed in, took the oars, and navigated down the river.

  Noises soon traveled through the trees, and Nalah heard an agonized scream. She turned and saw several sparks shoot up in the sky. An explosion of color. Fresh green, bright red, and radiant yellow. The sapelo pepper had made its mark on the witch’s skin. The Boo Hag was burning.