Chapter 6

 

Joni left me and Pauli waiting at the entrance to Agwe’s chambers.

“I must go and be sure that the admiral is prepared for visitors.”

I nodded, and Joni—whom Titus greeted with the words “Good day, General La Sirene”—passed through a curtain of seaweed.

Titus stood guard over Agwe’s chambers, looking as homicidal as ever. He’d make the perfect heel if the WWE ever expanded its operations to the ocean floor. I grinned at him slightly—partly out of desire to demonstrate my friendliness, though mostly out of an irrational sense of nervousness that his presence caused. He’d been nice enough, initially. And I know they say you can’t judge a book by its cover… and the same goes for people and their appearances. I wanted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. I really did.

You realize, his aura is totally cool. Noting ill-natured about him at all…

I coughed over my shoulder—a signal I often used to let Isabelle know I had heard her. I usually used it when we were around people who didn’t know about her, who’d think I had a room reserved at the loony bin on account of talking to myself. Isabelle was right. I was judging this guy by appearance. And that was a dangerous thing to do. Not just because you run the risk of judging someone unfairly, but because you also run the risk of trusting someone you shouldn’t, just because they “look” like the good-natured type. If my time at the Voodoo Academy taught me anything, it was that sometimes it’s the last person you’d imagine who is the most dangerous. I mean, who would have ever thought Alexa Windstrom—student extraordinaire and wielder of storms—would actually have allowed herself to get suckered into a bargain with Kalfu? If that’s what happened… it had to be. It never occurred to me that she was the threat. That’s because the real villains, the ones who actually intend to do evil shit, are the least likely ones to wear it on their sleeves. Superhero comics aside, the bad guys hardly ever wear costumes to give themselves away. Hell, even Kalfu had appeared—at least before he’d taken Pauli’s body as a host—in a tuxedo and top hat of all things. Sure, it might look suspect to someone in the 21st century, but back in the day, he dressed like a refined gentleman.

We stood there, in front of Titus, for what seemed like an eternity in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, he stepped aside, used his trident to pull open the seaweed curtain, and nodded—a gesture I took as an invitation to go in. I had no idea what signal he’d received to know that Agwe was now decent and ready for visitors. I hadn’t heard or seen anything. But he knew… somehow. I didn’t bother questioning it. I was just glad to escape the awkwardness of the moment.

“Miss Mulledy!” Agwe exclaimed as he saw me—Pauli slithering beside me—enter his chambers. He wasn’t a king. Not exactly. They called him “admiral” for some reason—but for all intents and purposes, he was the monarch down here. And Titus had called Joni—La Sirene, rather—a “general.” A bit odd, but none of it changed a thing for me. Agwe wanted me to retrieve his trident—not entirely sure why he couldn’t get the damn thing himself, but whatever. I mean, if you lose your own shit, you should be the one who has to brave hell and high water to find it again. Nonetheless, I was here. It seemed important that I be here. And I had to admit, the underwater breathing was actually a pretty cool side effect of possessing Agwe’s aspect. Once you got past the first few breaths, anyway.

“La Sirene tells me that your friend has had a vision.”

“I’m right here, yo!” Pauli exclaimed, clearly perturbed that Agwe was speaking to me directly rather than trying to converse with a snake. It wasn’t the first time, and wouldn’t be the last, either. Let’s face it, talking to snakes, especially when they talk back, can be a bit unsettling if you aren’t accustomed to it.

“My apologies. The nature of the ritual that my wife has described to me is concerning on several levels. It leads me to question if we’d miscalculated Kalfu’s intentions with respect to the dead who languish in Vilokan.”

“Why is that?” I asked. “What were they trying to accomplish with the goat blood and all that?”

“It’s a way that Bokors affect the transference of souls. Not unlike the spell that bound you to your familiar, or the one that put your friend into the serpent.”

“I didn’t drink no goat’s blood to get like this!”

“It’s not the one who will be possessed who must consume the blood,” Agwe said. “It is, rather, the Bokor or Mambo who intends to perform the rite.”

“But Pauli said he could taste it. That means that Kalfu was consuming it himself.”

“Kalfu also possesses the essence of Baron Samedi—trapped inside him much like Kalfu once was inside of Legba. If he can access the Baron’s power, and if he is the subject of the rite, then all I can figure is that he intends to do more than raise the citizens of Vilokan as corpses.”

“He wants to harness their souls? Transfer them into what… or who?”

“Your friend, the snake, what is his surname?”

“Just call me Pauli. I just go by Pauli. No mister whatever. I can’t stand that shit.”

Agwe smirked. “Very well, Pauli. How many others did you see in the vision? Was Kalfu acting alone, or was he in the presence of many?”

“Couldn’t tell. I mean, I couldn’t make out any faces. Too much smoke. But I could hear voices. A lot of them.”

“Bokors,” Agwe said. “I fear that Agwe intends to vest each of the Bokors who have allied with him the soul of one of the fallen. All powerful vodouisants in their own way… all possessing abilities, and powers, more so in death than in life.”

“Not all the dead have power,” I said.

“The girl within you has power, does she not?”

“Yes, but Isabelle was given her power from a dryad, at the Tree of Life.”

“Was she? Or did Lugh—I presume we’re speaking of him—simply make her aware of a power that was already hers, a part of her soul?”

“Humans don’t have powers. Not normally.”

“Tell me, you’ve been to Guinee. What is the place like?”

“Not exactly heaven…”

“No, it’s a lot like earth, is it not?”

I scrunched my brow. “Yeah, but it’s like a perfect earth. It’s pristine and pure.”

“There are many myths. Many stories. You’re a Catholic girl, are you not, Miss Mulledy?”

I nodded. “I sure am.”

“Then let me frame the story in terms of the first couple—in terms of Adam and Eve. Something changed about them, did it not, when they disobeyed the Maker?”

“They realized they were naked,” I said.

“They felt shame. Shame is not an original human emotion.”

“Well, they fucked up. So yeah, I guess they did feel shame.”

“But they weren’t just hiding from God, were they? I mean, he came looking for them, and they were hiding. But they were also hiding from each other. Hiding their bodies from each other. They knew something had been lost, but they didn’t know what.”

“Are you saying they lost their powers?”

“In a roundabout way. I’m saying they lost a part of their humanity. Not that it went away. But they could no longer access their full selves. The spirit of Bondye, of God, which was breathed into them and made them living creatures. That was theirs from the start.”

“But then, on account of their sin, they were told they would die.”

“Amongst other curses, yes.”

“And a part of that was losing their powers?”

“Don’t think of it as powers. Think of it as a part of their perfection. Gifts that made them uniquely themselves, equipped to function as originally intended. The magic you wield through Isabelle comes because she has already paid the penalty.”

“The wages of sin is death,” I said, quoting from what I thought was the book of Romans.

“Indeed. But sin is not just breaking a rule or a law. It’s about abandoning or leaving one’s true nature, one’s true humanity. Sin is a denial of self… a self that can only be recovered in death.”

I bit my lip. “So when the dead souls are assumed, are fused with the souls of the Bokors…”

“They’ll receive new abilities, abilities that the deceased did not even realize they possessed in life. Still, amplified and strengthened because of their affinity for the arts. They’ll become very much like you.”

“Like us… like me and Isabelle.”

Agwe nodded. “You can see why that might be a problem.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. If Kalfu could get these abilities from random humans, why was he so intent on acquiring Nico’s soul? Why does he crave Isabelle so much? Seems like there are easier targets.”

“No one knows what powers—if they’d be useful at all—might come with a soul. Nico had acquired hundreds of souls through the centuries as a vampire. He refined the abilities he gained. Like a weightlifter grows stronger through repetition, the powers Nico possessed were on a whole league above that of what coheres in a human soul in its natural state. And in your case, Isabelle’s powers, while natural to herself, are altogether unique. Her connection to the Tree of Life, I do not know if such power has ever been wielded by a mortal. None except, perhaps, a carpenter from Nazareth with whom you are undoubtedly familiar.”

I looked at Agwe incredulously. “Isabelle has Jesus power?”

“Not exactly. She clearly cannot raise the dead. If she could, she would have done so after the tragedy that befell the young boy from Aida-Wedo in the Trials.”

“Brayden…” I said, my voice calm. Even though I’d seen him in spirit, even though I had closure of a sort, it still irked me what had happened to him. He was a brilliant kid. Young. Gifted. Smart.

Agwe nodded. “Isabelle’s power might not be the same, precisely, as that wielded by the Nazarene. But it is of a similar nature. She can heal, can she not? She can command the elements of nature, am I right?”

I nodded. “So Isabelle has Jesus juice?”

“You could say that…”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t go to her head… because by proxy, it’ll go to mine, too.”

“Can you imagine, however, if her power was open to someone whose nature was unlike your own? To someone who intended to do harm?”

I bit my lip. I was mildly entertained by the notion that he thought I was a “good girl.” I was never what the nuns expected of me in Catholic school. Always testing them. Always pushing the boundaries. But I was never evil, I suppose… just a bit devious. I wasn’t like the Bokors. I could be as selfish as anyone at times—but these people bastardized Voodoo for the sake of power.

I scratched my head. “The Bokors… they already have committed themselves to using the Voodoo arts for self-serving purposes.”

Agwe nodded. “And even if the spirits they assume fight against it, they will have a taste, a flavor of a power that neither they nor the souls they acquire understand. It is a dangerous combination.”

“So what do we do?”

“We must get on with your quest. You must retrieve my trident.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. If it’s yours, why can’t you just get it?”

Agwe sighed. “Because this is not the host I’ve always possessed. There was another…”

“And the trident is with your old body? You can’t just dig it up or whatever and get it back?”

“I cannot. The host I once possessed was immediately seized by another spirit… the spirit of a notorious pirate herself.”

“Wait, your old host is now possessed by this Anne Bonny chick?”

Agwe nodded.

“And why did you abandon this host who supposedly had your trident?”

“I did not leave by choice. There is another, one who guards the crossroads, who had jurisdiction over which Loa might pass between worlds. At least he did.”

“Papa Legba?”

Agwe nodded. “And until recently, I thought he was responsible. That is precisely why I’ve never had much to do with your Academy. But I suspect it had never been him… not him alone, but his dark aspect, another Loa who had haunted him from within, who had been influencing him in ways he never realized until it was too late.”

“Kalfu,” I said. “All this shit is Kalfu’s doing.”

“For once,” Agwe said, “the vodouisants of sea and land share a common foe.”

I nodded. “And you need me to retrieve the trident. You want me to just sneak into this Anne Bonny’s underwater apartment and take it? I still don’t understand.”

“The trident is not a weapon made of metal. It is an elemental.”

“Like Beli… like my soul blade.”

“If you can somehow defeat her, get her to relinquish the trident, the water elemental which forms it will unite with those you already possess.”

“So I just need to kill this Anne Bonny character?”

Agwe shook his head. “I’m afraid it might be more complicated than that.”

“It always is,” I said. “None of this magic Voodoo shit is ever simple. None of it is ever apple pie.”

“Your weapons must meet in combat. The elementals must willingly unite and together decide which of you they will bind themselves to. Should you fail…”

“Then she gets Beli, too.”

Agwe nodded.

“Well that would suck donkey balls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. Just wouldn’t be good.”

“Suffice it to say, she will find it as tempting to face you and seize your soul weapon as you might find it necessary to seize hers.”

“Beli knows me. He’d never choose her.”

“It is not a matter of choice. The elementals do not gravitate to the moral better, the honorable one. If that were the case, you’d have nothing to fear. The elementals will choose whichever of you is truer to herself. It does not matter of she is pure evil—if she is true to that, the elementals will fall to her.”

I sighed. “So I have to get to know myself. I spend most of my time avoiding that. Too much introspection kills, ya know?”

“Who ever told you that?”

“I don’t know. It was a pity quote on a meme I saw once. Never mind. I know who I am. And I’m not ashamed of that.”

“You might know who you are, but are you true to the person you know yourself to be?”

I bit my lip. Then I sighed. “I know what I have to do.”

“Then we shall make whatever is necessary to ensure your success a reality.”

I glanced at Joni. “I met a girl last night. Her name was Shelly. She and her brother are supposed to start training tomorrow. They’re supposed to become wyrmriders.”

“Shelly and Finn, I’m well aware,” Joni said.

“They’re willing to sacrifice themselves for nothing. To just keep your society around a little bit longer. But you all are not going to survive forever. Say I go and manage to get through all Anne Bonny’s sharks, I meet her face-to-face, and we draw our weapons. I’m going to lose… if I don’t do this first. I’m going to lose.”

“What are you proposing?” Joni asked.

“Let me join the wyrmriders. Allow me to train with them tomorrow. You saw what I can do out there.”

“If you claim the trident from Anne Bonny, her power will be greatly reduced,” Agwe said.

“And if I fail, it will be strengthened. Tell me, say I do claim the weapon. Does she die straightaway?”

“No she would not.”

“Could I kill her? With my soul weapon alone? I mean, could I send her to the realm of the dead?”

Agwe shook his head. “The bargain that she made, the one that binds her here, will prevent it. She’s sealed in this world.”

“Then let me fight with the wyrmriders. Her legions are growing. She doesn’t attack you herself. She hides behind her abominations. If I can lead the wyrmriders against her army, if we can defeat them, she’ll be lost. She’ll have to face us herself.”

“But like I said,” Agwe continued, “even then, she cannot be easily dispatched to the realm of the dead.”

“There’s a reason she herself doesn’t attack. She has a vulnerability; otherwise, she’d have no need of the zombie sharks.”

“How can you be certain?” Joni asked.

I smirked. “I’m College Ogoun. I possess the aspect and have trained with the Loa of war. You want to win this thing? You want to be done with Anne Bonny once and for all? Then let me join the wyrmriders.”

Agwe and Joni exchanged glances. Agwe sighed. “All right. But you do not have much time. If Kalfu is planning to bind Vilokan’s fallen to the Bokors, if he’s already performed the rite…”

I bit my lip. Ashely was still out there. Mikah was there. So was Oggie. They had to have a plan. If she could ward the place, even though it was broken, she could at least slow Kalfu and the Bokors down. I was sure she’d try.

“My sister is a Shaman,” I said. “She’ll be able to keep Kalfu out of the ruins of Vilokan for a while.”

“She’s right,” Joni said. “I know her sister. She’s strong. And I know the Shaman who trained her. If Annabelle believes they can buy us time, then I believe her.”

“You have three days,” Agwe said. “You must train as hard as you possibly can. We cannot afford risking any more time than that.”

“Deal,” I said. “I’ve already ridden a dragon. How hard can riding a wyrm really be?”

Joni laughed. “Honey, riding dragons is for pussies.”

I scrunched my brow. “I’m not a pussy.”

“I didn’t say you are. But the dragon you rode is an elemental spirit, correct? One that chose you. A wyrm choses no one. A wyrm is a creature of the sea. The sea is chaos. It’s a powerful creature—not evil, it simply is what it is.”

“So how did you ever manage to tame these things?”

“They are powerful, but it is not their brute strength alone that makes them so. They also possess an ancient magic… a magic that coursed through the primordial void before the universe itself was made. A magic I could access…”

“Because you are a siphon.”

Joni nodded. “That is why the wyrmriders never ride without me at the helm. I alone can speak to them, reach out to them through their magic.”

“And that’s why you never left this place…”

“It’s one of the reasons.”

“So three days,” I said. “To learn how to tame and ride a creature more ancient and headstrong than a dragon. Sounds like just another week in the life of Annabelle Mulledy.”