“Still,” I said, “I don’t know if I’m suited to lead.”
“Dear, do you think I was? No leader ever believes she is ready. At least no good leader. Every great leader begins with trepidation. And that is precisely the quality that makes for a great queen.”
I pressed my lips together. “I suppose I don’t really have a choice anyway. I mean if I don’t do this…”
“There’s always a choice, dear.”
“Not really.”
“Not for you, because you possess the very quality that makes this choice no choice at all. There is no choice because you cannot bear to let our people fall, because you cannot stand by while Kalfu wreaks havoc on the world. Most would have a choice if put into your situation—and they would choose to flee. But you, dear, you do not know fear.”
I huffed. “When you survive a zombie attack as a child, all you have is fear. For a while. And then you become so accustomed to living with it that it sort of loses its hold on you, I suppose.”
Marie Laveau extended her hand. In it she held my crucifix. “Would you like this back?”
“You have it? I thought it…”
“It was an offering. But I do not require it. It may still do you some good if you would like it back.”
I reached and took my necklace, put it around my neck, and refastened the clasp. “Thank you.”
“Now, should we get on with this ritual? I’d like to complete it while I’m still continent.”
I smiled. “I never figured you were one for jokes!”
“It’s not a joke, dear. Like you, I’ve faced enough fear that I’m numb to it. Still, the thought of pooping my pants publicly is mortifying. And as quickly as I’m aging, it’s only a matter of time.”
“So what’s the plan? Assemble an altar, chant some rituals, and Legba shows up and mounts Chad?”
“It starts with offerings and rituals, dear. But that is only the beginning. You must recover Legba and bring him back. Only then might he claim his new host.”
My eyes darted around nervously. “Recover him? From where?”
“From Samhuinn.”
I stared at Marie Laveau blankly. “You have to be shitting me.”
Marie Laveau smiled. “No, dear. Besides, you won’t be alone. You’ll have Isabelle, and your dragon who, if I’m not mistaken, can appear in his full glory there. And you’ll have Chad, too.”
“What? Did you say Chad?”
“He must go with you, dear. When a Loa possesses a human host, it requires the consent of Bondye. After all, humans were made in his image.”
“So all the Loa at the Academy had to drag their hosts through Samhuinn and then find God Almighty in order to find out if it be his will?”
“Not exactly, dear. I recovered them. I selected their hosts. I traversed the plains of Samhuinn—with hosts every bit as incompetent as Chad. Now, this duty falls to you who would be queen.”
You’re finally getting to go on the quest you wanted! Isabelle exclaimed.
I huffed. When the quest meant possibly searching for a magical trinket in an underwater wonderland, I was game. But this was a quest into the eternal land of the dead, into Hell itself. No, it wouldn’t be purgatory, not the place where I’d encountered wraiths and died myself—albeit briefly—but I’d still be going into the land where basically every gnarly creature of myth and legend thrived. All the baddies you could imagine. And I’d be taking Stoner Chad with me. Yes, that’s his new nickname and I’m sticking to it. He might be using the ganja for medicinal purposes—now, at least. But he was fried in the sort of way that comes from years of use. Think Cheech and Chong meet Beavis and Butthead. Then imagine one person with all the idiocy of the latter two and all the weed the former two ever smoked came together in one person. That was Chad. And somehow I had to keep his ass alive long enough to see to it that he was fully possessed.
Chapter Nine
Before I got into all this Voodoo stuff, exorcisms were something I did on the regular. A little zap from Isabelle’s magica and any low-level demons—who tend to be the most frequent ones involved in simple possessions—go crying their way back to daddy Satan. Now, while not talking about demons per se, I was taking a dude into Hell—Samhuinn, technically, but close enough—in order to get him possessed. You can’t make this kind of shit up.
I had to help Marie Laveau up from her chair and into the place she’d had prepared in the basement of the head shop—a place that was apparently a “cover” for her super secret Voodoo lair. No wonder no one knew where she was—the best way to hide was basically in plain sight. No one would expect the Queen of Vilokan and the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans to be holed up in a head shop of all places.
She’d already prepared an altar and the veve that would be used to summon Legba once we acquired Bondye’s consent—however that was supposed to happen—and Legba took his seat in whatever part of Chad’s body he was going to settle into. I wasn’t sure the anatomy of a possession. In truth, if I were to wager a guess, I’d say it’s in the blood. That’s why vampires drink blood, after all, because that’s where they get a taste of the soul. And Kalfu had acquired Samedi by biting Mercy, who’d bit Nico… the Loa’s presence passed along through blood.
“So I can get us there,” I said. “I just have to use my blade.”
The queen smiled widely. “Or I could use mine.”
I cocked my head a little.
“Bellum!” Marie Laveau said, and a blade remarkably similar to my own appeared in her hand. At least in terms of its magic. The red, white, and green glow—corresponding with fire, air, and earth elementals—danced on her blade much like it did mine. But what she held was like a small dagger, a dirk. I probably could have summoned Beli that way if I’d wanted, but who knows, maybe I’m just obsessed with size. I always wanted to summon him in all his massive glory. But it did strike me that a smaller soul blade, like the one Marie Laveau held, could accomplish something similar.
I scratched my head. “When I acquired Beli, Oggie told me he’d never seen anything like this before.”
“And Oggie did not,” Marie Laveau said. “His aspect is not the only one that permits one to call upon the elementals. Again, look at what we have in common, dear. I, too, was chosen by many elements at once.”
“And what is your aspect?” I asked, realizing as I said it that Marie Laveau was known to have many aspects. “The one that allowed you to access the elemental plane?”
“Papa Legba, himself,” Marie Laveau said.
“He gave you his aspect? I thought he never…”
“He only grants his aspect to queens.”
“So I will…”
“Once we succeed, you will be given yet another aspect. Correct me if I’m wrong, but to date you possess the aspects of Ogoun, Samedi, and Agwe, yes?”
I nodded.
Marie Laveau pressed her hands together. “A unique combination. One that grants you power on land, in the realm of the dead, and beneath the seas.”
“Sure. If I knew how to use them fully, perhaps.”
“With Legba’s aspect, you shall.”
“How so?”
“Best you experience it yourself, dear. Everyone’s relationship to their Loa is unique, personal, and profound. This is why not all who possess the same aspect manifest their Loa’s abilities in the same way.”
I nodded. It made sense. Mikah and I had very different abilities, but we both belonged to College Ogoun. Under Erzulie, I’d seen Ashley, Ellie, and Tressa all manifest completely different dimensions of the aspect of love. There were plenty of examples.
“I will simply say this: with Legba’s aspect, there are many powers one might draw upon. In my long life, in fact, I’ve only scratched the surface of what might have been possible. He is, after all, the guardian of the crossroads, the contact between the worlds of spirit and of flesh.”
“All right. So when I go in there, where am I supposed to go?”
Marie Laveau shrugged.
“Every time I’ve journeyed there to retrieve a Loa, it has been a unique experience.”
“Into the unknown…”
Marie Laveau smirked. “If I still had my singing voice, I’d join you.”
“Frozen II? Isabelle is obsessed.”
“As well she should be! That Elsa can really belt out a tune.”
“For once I’d like to see Disney cast a tone-deaf princess. You know, just to give girls like me someone to relate to.”
“Not a singer?”
I shook my head. “I sound great in the shower. Or in my car, when I have the volume up all the way.”
“When you can’t actually hear yourself?”
“Exactly!”
Marie Laveau chuckled—it was the first time I’d seen her show something of her own personality, and I had to admit, she was more likable than I’d imagined. I figured after a century or so being revered as the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, some of it would have gone to her head. She was surprisingly down to earth. I liked her enough that it suddenly dawned on me that I was sad she’d be dying—an emotion eclipsed only by my anxiety of assuming her position. How in the world was I ever going to come close to being the kind of leader she was?
“Chad, dear!” Marie Laveau shouted. “It’s time.”
“Just a minute,” Chad shouted back. “Finishing my burrito.”
I shook my head. Real winner, this one was. Stoner Chad was clearly operating on stoner time. No rush. All is chill, yo… even going to hell so I can let some ancient demigod take over my body… no biggie. Do they have a Taco Bell in hell, anyway? I had to admit the impression of Stoner Chad that I was entertaining in my head was every bit as dense, but twice as entertaining, as Stoner Chad in the flesh.
Finally I heard Chad open the door and make his way down the steps. Then he farted. “Ladies, you really shouldn’t do that when you’re around pretty boys like me.”
Marie—I felt comfortable calling her by her first name now that we’d shared an affinity for Disney princess musicals—and I exchanged glances. I shook my head.
“Whoever smelt it dealt it, ladies! Someone better fess up!”
I bit my cheek. “All right, Chad, here’s the deal…”
“Is that an admission? Annabelle farted, everyone!”
Isabelle was the only one laughing—not because Chad was funny. That couldn’t be it. But at the fact that I had to deal with this moron.
I cleared my throat even while Chad was pinching his nose and waving his hand in front of his face to disperse his own odor. “As I was saying, when we’re in there, you just stay close to me. No screwing around.”
“No screwing? Why go to Hell if you can’t screw?” Chad put his hand on my butt. He squeezed.
I quickly grabbed it, twisted his wrist, and brought him to his knees. “Touch me again, motherfucker, and I’ll snap your wrist in half.”
“Hey, owww… I was only kidding. Chill…”
“Har, har, har,” I mocked his laugh. “Let me just grab some ass in a kidding sort of way. Hil-arious.”
Marie raised her hand. “Chad, dear. Please control yourself. Samhuinn can be a dangerous place.”
“You really did snag the pick of the litter for this job, didn’t you?” I said to Marie as I sneered at Chad.
“When it comes to finding people willing to give up their bodies, even people who are terminally ill, beggars cannot afford to be choosers. I wish you luck, Annabelle.”
I knew when I got there I might have to face dragons—some not nearly as friendly as Beli. There’d be minotaurs, maybe even some demons. Insidious creatures I’d probably never even imagined. Now I had to add douchebag to the list of nasties I’d have to manage. At least this one had a rapidly approaching expiration date. Don’t get me wrong, sucks that the guy had a terminal illness. Any shred of empathy I might have had for him, though, flew out the window the moment he copped a feel. I can tolerate a lot of shit from guys—in spite of having attended a Catholic high school, I still had more than my fair share of encounters with creepers like Chad—but this dude was twice my age, and ignoring him completely wasn’t an option.
“Isabelle,” I muttered under my breath, “remind me to kick Chad in the balls just moments before Legba takes over. I want that to be the last experience he remembers in life.”
Harsh! Isabelle shot back.
“But deserved.”
Marie, overhearing my exchange with Isabelle, smirked even as she shook her head. “I believe I’ve chosen well.”
“For Legba’s host? You have to be kidding.”
“For my replacement, dear.”
“Ahh.” In truth, I wasn’t sure I agreed with her about that, either.
Chapter Ten
The altar was arranged, and the offerings were in place. Legba’s veve, drawn in ash on the floor, was sealed by some kind of varnish or polyurethane to prevent it from getting smudged. A smart move, no doubt devised by years of experience as Voodoo’s queen. The altar was draped in black, with a red cloth atop the black one just covering the top of the altar. Marie lit the candles she’d arranged on the altar in advance and opened a jar full of pennies.
“Papa Legba wants pennies?” I asked.
“He adores copper, always has. And like most of the Loa, he’s a smoker.” Marie placed a corn cob pipe on the altar, already stuffed full of tobacco. She then popped open a bottle and poured a shot.
“A smoker and a drinker?”
“Aren’t they all?” Marie asked. “Kalfu likes his rum spiced with gunpowder. At least Legba will take his straight. Though I’ve learned that coconut-flavored rum is his favorite.”
“Is all this really necessary? I mean, if I’m bringing him back anyway…”
“Of course, dear. He will mount Chad in Samhuinn, but the binding cannot be completed until you return.”
“Aren’t you lighting these candles a bit prematurely? I mean, there’s no telling how long this will take.”
“No, child. That place is removed from space and time as we know it. When you return, no matter how long you seem to have been gone, it will be but moments here.”
“Oh yeah,” I said. I knew this fact—I’d been to Guinee many times, and each time I returned, only a few minutes had passed. Beli was pretty good and getting me back at roughly the same time I’d left. Still, my mind was a bit aloof. I was still put off by the whole Chad situation—and I wished I could have brought along my own friends, Pauli at least. Still, there was no telling how much time we’d waste gathering them together, if I could even find them. And Mercy had made it clear that her hands were full already, and she wasn’t wrong that Pauli would come in handy if she needed help corralling any of her vampire younglings. Not like it was a big deal. I was basically just making a quick trip to Samhuinn—the closest thing to Hell I’d ever experienced—with the dickweed of the century. What could go wrong?
I heard a toilet flush.
“The lizard is drained, and Chad is ready to go!”
I nodded. Now he was talking in the third person. About his drained “lizard.” Not that talking in the third person was that annoying—on occasion, I’d even do it. But when Chad did it, I just wanted to punch him in the face.
I grunted. “I didn’t hear the sink. Go wash your hands.”
“Yes, mother!”
I heard the sink turn on and off quickly. “With soap, asshole!” I shouted.
“I did use soap!”
“No you didn’t. The sink was on for two seconds. No way you washed with soap.”
Chad laughed—God his laugh was annoying. “Busted! Send me to the no-hand-washer’s prison. Life without parole!”
“I’m serious. Go back in there and wash your hands.”
Marie was smiling, clearly amused by the way I was handling him. Chad was like a child and had fewer brain cells than a hamster. It wasn’t just about him not washing his hands. If I had my way, he wouldn’t be touching me anyway. But he had to know that he couldn’t get away with his
shit once we crossed over. I had to make sure he knew I was in charge.
I grinned a little as I heard the water run, for about twenty seconds this time. “Sometimes you just have to tell them like it is,” I said.
“Indeed, you do. Men can be like children. And Chad is particularly difficult, I admit.”
“So, ready to cut this portal, or should I?”
“I will, dear. I’ve done this enough times that I’m reasonably sure I can get you somewhere in the vicinity of where you need to go. Do not lose Legba’s remains.”
I was still clinging to the shrunken head of Legba’s former host. “I won’t. Hard to lose something like this.”
Marie Laveau handed me a burlap sack—the one she’d had it in before. Grateful, I put the head in the bag and tied its drawstring around a loop in my jeans. Much easier, and less creepy, to carry a head around in a baggie than by its hair.
“Through this,” Marie said, “Legba will help guide you to where you need to go.”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I assumed things would become clear when we arrived. In my experience, when it comes to Voodoo, you can ask questions all day long, but things are never exactly the way they’re explained. The only way to really handle a situation in the Voodoo world is through experience.
Marie Laveau gripped her blade—the one she called Bellum—and cut a semicircle into the air, just above where Legba’s veve was drawn in ash on the floor. When I’d cut gates, I never knew where they’d take me—usually they opened into the garden groves of Guinee, but maybe one out of ten gates would open somewhere in Samhuinn. Usually I closed those as quickly as I opened them. Marie was clearly more practiced cutting such gates than I was.
“See you in a few moments,” I said, winking at Marie.
“I’ll be right here,” she said.
I took Chad’s hand—I know I wasn’t intending to touch him, but I figured he’d need a little guidance to make it through. It was soaking wet—he’d washed with soap and water but didn’t dry his hands. I took a deep breath, restraining my annoyance with my chosen travel companion, and stepped into the gate.
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