Chapter 20

 

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.

My mind gravitated to Joni. She’d been a mentor to me when Isabelle and I were first soul-fused. I’d thought I lost her, and while I was worried about her now, I was grateful she’d come back into my life.

And of course, Isabelle. Fuck. I didn’t want to admit it. She had been a royal pain in my ass most of the time. She was a prude, always self-righteously chastising me when I tried to blow off a little steam, let a little of the “bad girl” out to play. God only knows having her inside my head made finding love—for either of us—practically impossible. We were the closest we’d ever been to finding love, something we could both accept for each other. Then her boyfriend killed mine. I mean, Oggie wasn’t my boyfriend yet. But things were progressing. Was this the tragedy of the love life we were both destined for? Maybe… but dammit… I had to admit that I couldn’t imagine my life without Isabelle. Not anymore. I wouldn’t be half the person I was without her. She was annoying—but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She’d prevented me more than one bout of heartache through the years. She had a peace and calm about her even when I was ready to she-rage out. Just like today… she saw what I saw. And she was there, still optimistic, still imagining that things might not be what they looked like. Looking for a glimmer of hope when I was ready to throw in the towel.

“Isabelle… thank you…”

I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud.

Thank you, too…

I grinned a little. Not what I expected. For years I’d focused on the downside to being fused with another soul. She’d been a slave to my ancestors in her earthly life… and some of it might have been a sense of guilt that had plagued me over what my family had done to her and hers. But she never held it against me. Not once. And I’d never given her a fair shake. In my own way, I’d continued doing to her what my ancestors had… by not giving her a chance. Silencing her when I could. Blaming her for shit that wasn’t her fault. None of that was right. Isabelle brought out the best of me. It took some time. It took years of her constantly getting under my skin. But it was true. She brought out the best of me. She made me a better person.

I lifted my head. “I know what I have to do.”

Roger looked at me, directly in the eye. He nodded and smiled. “I knew you would.”

I stood—as much as I could since the lodge had a low ceiling—and turned to the rest. “Just give me a minute.”

Ashley and Pauli both nodded.

I stepped outside.

I reached into my bra—it was going to work this time. I knew it was going to work. I looked at Dumballah’s blessing and spoke.

“Dumballah, I want to be someone who brings out the best of whatever someone was meant to be. I want to be someone who brings out the best of people, and frees them of their burdens. Isabelle can heal bodies. I want to be like her. But I want to be able to heal souls. Dumballah, make me a healer.”

This time, Dumballah’s blessing glowed a bright green. A green that matched Isabelle’s magic. It was the magic of life, the magic of creation.

“What you ask for is good,” a deep voice said, seeming to speak from within the totem. “My blessing is yours.”

The glow on the statuette intensified. A moment later, the little statue had disappeared and a small ring had fit itself onto my thumb. It was shaped like a serpent—the image of Dumballah himself. I don’t know how I knew… but I did.

We’re going back to Fomoria, aren’t we?

“We have to heal Joni,” I said. “Fomoria needs its wyrmriders.”

“That’s one place I’m happy to take you,” Pauli said as he wrapped himself, back in the glory of his rainbow serpent form, around my shoulders.