Watery Graves

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Watery Graves Page 12

by Theophilus Monroe


  The first phase wasn’t too difficult for me. I was used to confessing my sins. Accepting absolution was another matter entirely. I had a harder time with that. Though, to be fair to myself, I’d come a long way in that department. I didn’t know what Pauli was thinking about, and frankly, I didn’t bother speculating. He didn’t seem to feel a whole ton of guilt over much of anything. I’m not saying he didn’t have things to confess—but like me, he tended to wear humor as a veneer to cover up his pains, his guilt, pretty much anything unpleasant. I tried to push my curiosity about Pauli’s thoughts out of my mind. This was the first round—I was supposed to be thinking about myself. Even if the whole reason we were doing this was so Pauli could have a revelation.

  The second round was even easier for me. If anything, I had a bad habit of neglecting myself for the sake of other people. Putting other people first, though, was still about me at a certain level. If I could help other people through their problems, it sort of made me feel better about ignoring mine. At least that’s what I was pretty sure a therapist would say if I’d ever went to see one. Maybe that was why I never did—I knew what most of my issues were. I hardly needed to pay someone a premium to tell me what I already knew.

  But the third round was about healing. The air was thicker now—but still not nearly so thick as the ocean itself. Sweat was pouring from my brow. Roger and Ashley were chanting some kind of Choctaw song—I didn’t know the words and couldn’t really get into the beat. But it was relaxing in its own way. I glanced at Pauli—his eyes were closed tight. Something was happening… something was changing. I could tell from the look on his face. It was like the last mental “block” he had to his visions was putting up a fight. That’s the thing about healing… it can be a painful experience.

  Isabelle hadn’t said a word to me since this started. I supposed she was doing her best to experience the ritual for herself. That, and she didn’t want to interrupt my own thoughts. So I was quite surprised when I opened my eyes and saw Isabelle’s translucent form standing in front of me. It wasn’t something she did often—she used to do it when she was playing with our dog, Letty—ugh, I still felt pangs in my heart every time I thought about her. If I hadn’t brought her to Vilokan… I could have found her someone to stay with, maybe, but what would I have said? “Hey, I have to go study Voodoo at a secret underground city that you aren’t supposed to know about. Can you keep my dog for a few months, maybe years? I really don’t know how long I’ll be.” Yeah, that wouldn’t have worked. So I brought her with me.

  But this was the third round. We were supposed to be healing. I was supposed to leave all the guilt back in round one. Too late for a do-over? Probably. But I tried to release it anyway. Even if we were past the round dedicated to that, I was pretty sure the ritual wasn’t so rigid that I couldn’t still let things go as they came up. This was the round of healing, after all. Perhaps that was why Isabelle appeared. She was healing, too. Released of impurities, our body was less a prison in this moment and more open, more fluid. In truth, I almost felt like I was floating outside of my body in a sense, too. Isabelle’s eyes were closed. Her hands in her lap. She was standing if for no other reason than that was what felt most natural to her. Technically speaking, her ghostly form was just a projection anyway. She didn’t have to worry about getting comfortable—she’d feel the relative comfort of my body, even if her soul was meandering around the room.

  And then it happened… I was floating above my body. As I looked around, Pauli, Ashley and Roger were doing the same. Was this normal? It couldn’t be normal… could it? Unique spiritual experiences… Roger said as much, to suggest that we should expect the unexpected. It wasn’t the first out-of-body experience I’d ever had. I experienced something similar when I went to the land of the dead—only then my soul had been unsettled from my body, I’d actually died, albeit temporarily. Now, it felt like my soul was more at home with my body, even though I was floating outside of it. It was peaceful and oddly natural.

  At least it was for me—Pauli’s floating form looked to be in anguish. Was he having a vision? What was he seeing? This was a moment of healing, and it looked like someone had just doused whatever wounds he had with a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

  A burst of bright light followed by darkness filled the room. I could hear deep breathing. But I wasn’t taking the breaths.

  This is Pauli’s vision, Isabelle said aloud. I didn’t see her, but I could still hear her. It was like Pauli had somehow brought us all together into his experience. We’re seeing through Kalfu’s eyes…

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kalfu reached down toward the water and splashed his face. Was he standing at the edge of the sea? There wasn’t much reflection in the water—the waters weren’t still enough for that. It was strange—I saw the water in his cupped hands splash on his face, as if it were my own face, but I didn’t feel a thing. This was just a vision. I couldn’t feel what he felt.

  What we saw must have been through Kalfu’s eyes. I could see what he saw, hear what he heard, even smell what he smelled. The sound of waves crashing, the fresh smell of the ocean as it swept across his face. The sands were nearly white—it couldn’t have been far from the beach where Pauli and I had met before going to Fomoria.

  A crowd stood near Kalfu at the edge of the shore. All dressed in black—though only one had his head and face covered. He was the one I’d seen before. The one who’d been fused with the soul of Alexa Windstrom. The rest of them—mostly young people. No one I recognized. Still, I wouldn’t have placed the oldest among them at anything over thirty.

  The Bokor in black raised his hand. A whirlwind formed where Kalfu stood. I could hear it spin. Moments later, the giant vessel—the one that contained the souls of Vilokan—appeared in view.

  “Before we can commence the rite to disburse these souls, there is one more we must retrieve. One bound as the other, one who has heretofore represented my will in the oceanic domains. She has recently come by an untimely, though I should not say coincidental, end.”

  Was he speaking of Anne Bonny? It had to be… Dear lord, I sincerely hoped it wasn’t. But who else? The last thing I needed was to have a Bokor fused with Anne Bonny’s soul, resuming his torment on the underwater kingdom I thought I’d just saved… one now without Joni capable of leading the wyrmriders.

  From a strategic standpoint, though, I could read what he was doing. Kalfu was hoping to force us into a two-front war. And with Joni out of commission, I was the only one who stood a chance to stop him. But not if I had to pick one place or the other.

  “No soul bound to me in a bargain is ever free. Even by death,” Kalfu said. “All must eventually fulfill their end of our deal. You all must remember this. Serve me well now, or serve me in death. It makes no difference.”

  Disgusting. Not even death can break a bargain with Kalfu? He doesn’t deal in lives, he bargains in souls.

  “Neophyte,” Kalfu said, turning to the shrouded Bokor in black. “Draw me a drink from the water of the sea.”

  The Bokor in black nodded, extended his hand, and Kalfu handed him a flask. The Bokor approached the sea and dipped it into the water. A red glow emanated from around it and coalesced at the edge of the bottle, disappearing into it.

  “The soul of Anne Bonny!” Kalfu declared. “Which if you will show yourself worthy to acquire her soul as your own? With it you will have the power to command legions. You will rule the seas.”

  Murmuring filled the crowd, though no one answered outright. Even the Bokor in black remained silent. I half wondered why none of them were jumping at the opportunity.

  “As you all know, the fusing of a soul requires a sacrifice. For lesser souls, the blood of an animal will do. But we have an entire city whose souls linger in the vessel. This requires something more. A sacrifice of something more than an animal, more than even a human. It requires the blood of a Loa.”

  Kalfu turned his head slowly. His eyes met Oggie’s—who stared back at him with
a rage I’d never seen. An ashen circle had been made around where he stood. Somehow they’d summoned him here. Summoned him the same way Nico had inadvertently summoned Kalfu back at the academy.

  Oggie hurled his body against the edge of the circle—a red energy appeared like lightning, shocking him as he attempted to break through.

  “Whoever slays the Loa of war will have the privilege of acquiring the soul of Anne Bonny and the honor of having ended war as we know it.”

  How could a human ever slay a Loa? I wondered. Surely none of them would stand a chance.

  A single Bokor stepped out from the crowd. He was a young man, though strong. He carried himself with confidence.

  The man charged the circle. Oggie attempted to draw his power—but it fizzled out. Something was silencing him. It wasn’t unthinkable. Ashley had created wards that silenced the Loa before—we’d even used it against Kalfu.

  Oggie grimaced as the man charged against him, the man’s knife grazing Oggie’s bicep. Oggie grabbed him and hurled him with force outside of the circle—apparently a human could penetrate the magical prison. The man crashed into the sand, his body shaking as he screamed in agony.

  Oggie looked at the wound on his arm. He wiped away the blood. Whatever was disarming Oggie also made him vulnerable. He could bleed. Another Bokor stepped forward. A female. She held a pistol in her hand.

  Fuck, I thought… trying to out-wrestle Oggie, even if he couldn’t access his power, was one thing. But if he could bleed, he could be shot.

  “Wait,” came another voice. The Bokor in black. Based on the narrowing of the vision, I could tell Kalfu was squinting. “Allow me an attempt.”

  “You already possess a soul,” Kalfu said. “It is unlikely you could be fused together with another and maintain control.”

  “Then I will make you a deal,” the Bokor in black said. Kalfu could never refuse a deal, a bargain. He’d surely be tempted to hear out the Bokor in black. “If I slay the Loa, then I get to choose which of these acquires the soul of Anne Bonny.”

  “And if you should fail,” Kalfu said, “we’ll lose the power you already possess, which is crucial in the war.”

  Kalfu glanced at the Bokor girl who’d intended to go next, who’d hoped to win the battle with a gun. He raised his hand.

  “I seal my bargains with my flask,” Kalfu said. “And the flask now contains the soul of Anne Bonny.”

  “Then we’ll have to seal our bargain another way. Can you really resist the poetry of it all? If I’m the one to eliminate the Loa of war?”

  “Then we will seal the bargain with a drop of blood. Your blood. If you do not succeed, your soul and the soul of Alexa Windstrom will be redistributed however I see fit.”

  “It’s a deal,” the Bokor in black said.

  Kalfu grinned widely. He turned to the girl who’d hoped to challenge Oggie next. “If he fails, the next attempt will be yours.”

  The girl grinned and stepped back into the crowd. She looked confident—apparently not believing that, whoever this Bokor in black was, he could actually defeat Oggie.

  But I’d seen what he could do… the power he held with Alexa’s soul intertwined with his. If Oggie’s body was vulnerable in this condition, I was terrified that this Bokor in black might succeed. If he didn’t, the girl afterward probably would.

  I didn’t want to see it, but the vision wouldn’t let me go. And I needed to see it… I had to know…

  The Bokor in black approached Oggie and stepped across the circle.

  He lowered his hood, then turned and looked at Kalfu.

  It was Mikah!

  Holy shit! He had deceived Kalfu. He was going to save Oggie… somehow.

  Mikah looked at Oggie, directly in the eye. Oggie simply nodded, and Mikah placed his hand to Oggie’s cranium and discharged a storm of electricity directly into him. Oggie’s body trembled and shook. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.

  “NO!” I screamed, the force of my words jolting me out of the vision.

  I was back in the sweat lodge. All were silent. I could hear Isabelle sobbing in my mind.

  I don’t understand… How could he betray us like that?

  I shook my head. I’d had enough. I stood to leave.

  “Please sit back down,” Roger said. “We must finish the ritual. The fourth phase… the phase of gratitude.”

  “Fuck gratitude,” I said. “We have to stop Mikah and the Bokors before they start fusing souls.”

  Ashley gripped my arm. “You can’t go charging in there against them, Annabelle. Finish the ritual.”

  I shook her grip loose and charged outside. Pauli came out and stood beside me.

  “I’m not taking you there,” Pauli said.

  “Then I’ll fucking hitchhike. I’ll find a way.”

  “It will be too late if you do.”

  “I have to do something. It can’t end this way. It just can’t. I have to fight.”

  I reached into my bra and pulled out Dumballah’s blessing.

  “Dumballah!” I shouted. “Give me the ability to kick Kalfu’s ass!”

  The statuette glowed a little, then faded. Again, I probably hadn’t asked for something that accorded with Dumballah’s will. Go figure. I felt another hand on my shoulder. I knew it was Ashley before she even spoke.

  “Please, Annabelle. Come back inside.”

  There had to be a reason. I know Mikah. There has to be a reason.

  I shrugged off Ashley’s hand again, more forcefully this time.

  “There is no fucking reason, Isabelle!” I said. Ashley took a couple steps back. “He betrayed us. That’s all there is to it!”

  He wouldn’t. You saw the look on Oggie’s face. It was like he had accepted this.

  “Kalfu had left a mark on him that night in the road. He’d bound Mikah to a fucking bargain, and Mikah never bothered to tell us about it. He might have been forced into this, but he could have warned us. He could have said something…”

  There has to be a reason he didn’t.

  “You’re just too fucking blind because you’re in love with him,” I said curtly. It was harsh, but I wanted the words to hurt. It wasn’t fair to Isabelle, I knew. But I didn’t give a fuck who I was hurting at the moment. Oggie was dead… as dead as a Loa can be, anyway. I’d only seen one Loa “die” before—Papa Legba—and so far there hadn’t been a single trace of him.

  I could feel the tears welling up. Just picturing his face. The last time he looked at me. The last time I saw him in the flesh. He’d kissed me. I never imagined that would be the end of it. The last time I ever saw him… touched him… felt him. I thought it was all physical attraction. But when I saw him fall, when I saw that look on his face when the lightning fried his brain, I knew in that moment that I loved him.

  “You still have his aspect,” Ashley said. “A part of him is with you forever.”

  Dammit, why do people say such stupid shit when people are mourning? Yeah, it was true. I’d probably find comfort in it someday. But I just saw the demigod I loved fall at the hand of someone I thought I could trust. I was in no mood for sentimentality.

  “If you want to win this war,” Roger said, his voice resonating from behind me, “you must come and complete the fourth stage of the ritual.”

  I turned and narrowed my eyes. “How the fuck is some stupid sweat ritual going to help me defeat Kalfu?”

  Roger grinned. He was used to my bite-back—he’d been on the receiving end of it more than once in the years I’d known him. But this time he knew he couldn’t just laugh it off, not like he usually did.

  “Perspective,” Roger said. “Before you go into a battle, you need perspective. You need to see the whole picture. This ritual will help you see things you’d otherwise overlook.”

  I huffed. I wanted to somehow force Pauli to take me to that beach, unload every power I could muster on the whole crowd of them. But I couldn’t force Pauli to do shit, and raging out against the enemy was probably the
surest way to get myself killed. And if I was dead, who could ever avenge Oggie’s death? Who could ever stop Kalfu?

  I took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll finish the ritual. But if I do, no matter what I decide afterwards, you have to let me go.”

  “It’s a deal,” Roger said.

  “Don’t make deals. It’s fucking dumb,” I said.

  Roger almost cracked a grin. “Then you have my word. I promise.”

  “Me too,” Ashley said.

  “Whatever, bitch!” Pauli added.

  I almost smiled a little that time. I wiped a tear from my eyes and went back inside the lodge.

  Chapter Twenty

  Roger poured more water on the hot stones in the middle. The sinking pit in my gut had only grown stronger. What the fuck was I doing? Pow-wowing it in a sweat lodge while Kalfu was busy teaming up with Mikah to create an army of soul-fused Bokors? The sacrifice was done. It would only be a matter of time before it was too late. But I’d agreed to see this bullshit ritual through. Chances were, I supposed, I wouldn’t be able to get there before the soul-fusing was all done anyway.

  Ashley and Roger began chanting something in Choctaw. I was oblivious to the meaning but figured I might as well attempt to give myself in to this thing. What did I have to lose? I took a deep breath…

  The fourth stage… gratitude.

  The third stage was supposed to be healing. What I’d gotten sure didn’t feel like healing. It felt like a giant wound in my chest. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest and was twisting the knife.

  I took a deep breath… I exhaled…

  Gratitude…

  I supposed I should be grateful for what I did have with Oggie, even if he was gone. I should be grateful for friends. Pauli, Ashley, even Ellie and Sauron. Could I ever be grateful for Mercy—in truth, I was. She’d basically saved my parents. I hated the vampire, but yes, I was grateful for her. I had to be.

 

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