Chapter 13

 

It felt silly—but no sillier than praying usually did. With Chad’s consent, even as he gripped my hand and trembled in anxiety—I suppose it’s only natural to be a bit edgy when a demigod is about to take over your body and you’re going to move on into the life beyond—I spoke into the void. “God, if you’re out there. I mean, I know you’re out there. So I’m asking you, please, allow Legba to return to us. May he dwell within this vessel, the vessel of Chad, that he might help us defeat Kalfu, a foe of all that is good and right and true.”

I cringed a little at the cheesiness of the phrase “vessel of Chad” as soon as I’d said it. But the change was instant. There was no to-do. Having Samedi’s essence, I could see Chad’s ghost leave his body… floating off as he air-guitared his way into the void.

“So long, Chad,” I said. Yeah, Chad was a douche. But he also gave what little life he had left for this cause—and I had to honor that.

“Very good, Miss Mulledy,” Papa Legba said, now from within Chad’s body. I looked down at the shrunken head, and just as I was about to put it back into the burlap sack, I heard Legba’s voice again. “Hey, don’t put me in there just yet!”

Did that just happen? Isabelle asked.

“Legba, did you…”

“Yes,” the Legba in Chad and the Legba in the shrunken head said in concert. “As I said before, a spirit never leaves a body it has dwelled within entirely, not so long as that body has life.”

“All right,” I said, laughing nervously. “This is really freaky.”

“Don’t forget to say thank you,” Legba said, still speaking in concert from both of his… vessels.

“Thank you for what?”

“To the Almighty. We still need him if we’re going to get out of here.”

I nodded. I should have known better. “Hey, God. Thanks for that!”

“No problem,” a deep voice echoed through the void. It sent shivers down my spine.

Did that just happen? Isabelle asked.

“Uh-huh…”

Why don’t you ask him to help us get home?

“Hey, God—I mean, that’s what you want me to call you, right? Is there a name you prefer?”

“I am what I am,” God replied. Of course he did… I should have known.

Before I could even speak, a glow began to surround us—me, Legba, Beli, all of us—as if “I Am” knew what I was going to ask for before I even opened my mouth. I felt Beli’s lungs expand as he absorbed the divine energies that enveloped us. With an exhale, Beli released a giant breath and formed a gate in the void—this time, sparkling with golden energies. This was not the magic Beli typically wielded, nor what Isabelle had through the Tree of Life. This was a magic that only the Divine One could wield.

“I will be with you always,” God spoke, in an echoed tone, as Beli flapped his wings and we dove headlong into the gate.

We crashed into the floor at the base of the altar that Marie Laveau had made.

“Welcome back, dear,” Marie said. “And welcome home, Papa Legba.”

I turned to Marie Laveau. To her we’d only been gone moments, but it still looked like she’d aged even in the seconds she’d experienced.

“My goodness, child,” Marie Laveau said. “Your face!”

I scrunched by brow. “My face?”

“There’s a mirror on the altar, dear.”

I grabbed it and was taken aback. My whole face shone like the sun—it was so bright that the glow reflected off the mirror and nearly blinded me.

“You’ve spoken to Bondye!” Marie Laveau declared.

“Yeah…” I said, my voice still trembling from the experience.

“Carry the light with you,” Marie said. “With the darkness that is coming, you will need it.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. How did I carry this light with me? It was more like a state of being. I didn’t even feel anything—but the glow coming off my face was undeniable. In even just a few moments, though, the brightness began to fade.

“Carry it in your heart, dear.”

I nodded. “I can do that. I think.”

“Now that you are here, we must make the binding permanent. We must ensure that Legba remains at home in his new host and that you, as the new Voodoo queen, have your life bound with his.”

“When this ritual is done, will you die right away?”

“I cannot say for sure, dear. Though I know my time is short, no matter. It is time.”

“I am ready, too,” Legba said… but it wasn’t Legba in Chad, it was the shrunken head version of the Loa.

“Well, that’s curious,” Marie said. “Though since my life is tied to Legba’s in that host, perhaps my life keeps it alive in some small way.”

“Perhaps,” Legba said, responding in both forms, again in concert. “Though even I thought this was a temporary thing… something unique to the void.”

“Well, I guess it isn’t,” I said. “Looks like I have a portable Legba—at least for now.”

“Possibly so,” Marie said. “Though let us proceed with the binding and your coronation. It may eliminate this particular peculiarity.”

I nodded. “Is it weird that I’m nervous? I mean, I just saw Chad give up his life, and I feel almost as anxious as he was.”

“I remember when I first became the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans,” Marie Laveau said. “I never believed I’d be accepted. But soon the whole Voodoo world was coming to me. For answers. For advice. For help with their problems. Even healings. And I found that I was uniquely equipped each time to do what needed to be done. You shall be, too, Annabelle. I wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, with me you know you get Isabelle, too.”

“Of course,” Marie said, smiling wide. “I look at it as a BOGO deal.”

“Buy one, get one?” I chuckled as I said it. “Didn’t realize I was a bargain queen!”

“We’re all bargain queens when there’s a good sale, am I right?”

“Queen Laveau,” I said. “You’re my kind of people.”

Marie Laveau smiled widely—she’d aged rapidly, but there was still a beauty there. You could see it in her eyes. Those were eyes that looked not at the world with doe-like innocence. The beauty in her eyes was the sort that only comes when you’ve seen the worst of everything, probably the best of it too, but weren’t changed by it. She was a woman who had lived her life in service—grossly misunderstood by outsiders, but beloved by the Voodoo world.

Marie Laveau set several candles across the alter she’d constructed to honor Legba and dressed each of them with special oils. Each candle received its own concoction, a combination of various oils meant to produce unique effects when properly combined. I might be the High Mambo—and soon the Voodoo queen—but it became clear that no matter my “rank,” I was going to have to learn a lot more.

Marie chanted something in Creole. I’m not especially fluent in Creole. I’d grown up around it enough to pick up bits and pieces. Another deficiency that I’d have to overcome. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed. Not by the creole. Not by the fact that I had no clue what Marie was doing with the altar. But by everything… I wasn’t half the Mambo that Marie Laveau had been. She’d probably forgotten more about Voodoo in her multiple life-spans than I’d ever learned.

We’ve got this, you know. Isabelle could sense my trepidation—sweaty palms, rapid heart rate, fiddling with my fingernails. She knew the signs.

I coughed twice over my shoulder, not because I was trying to be secretive about Isabelle—everyone here knew about her—but to acknowledge her comment without interrupting what Marie Laveau was doing.

“A drop of blood, dear.”

I bit my lip. I hated finger pricks. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to bleed in the context of practicing Voodoo. The soul is in the blood… Oggie had taught me that. It wasn’t just Voodoo that believed it. It was in the book of Leviticus.

Marie mixed my blood with what I assumed was a carrier oil—though other oils might have been mixed with it. Legba in his new host also extended his hand. He didn’t even flinch when Marie pricked his finger. His blood mixed with mine in the oil. After a few more words chanted in Creole, Marie dipped her thumb into the blood-and-oil mixture and spread it across my brow. She did the same to Legba. He and I exchanged glances. I’m not sure how I knew to do it, but I locked eyes with him.

“Receive my aspect,” Legba said, “as my life in this host is now bound to yours.”

I gasped, but not because acquiring an aspect gave me any particular sensation. It was a pretty bland experience, truth be told, and this was the fourth time I’d experienced it. Still, I knew the changes, the results, would manifest in time.

“I now declare you, Annabelle Mulledy, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.”

I nodded as Marie Laveau reached behind the altar and retrieved a massive headdress. It consisted mostly of black feathers and dried flowers. A miniature skull was affixed at the band, in the middle of where my forehead would be once I wore it.

Surely that’s not a real cranium, Isabelle said. Far too small… Dear God, please say it isn’t…

I shrugged. In truth, I didn’t know. As I examined it more closely, though, it looked like it had been carved—probably from a much larger bone, maybe not even human at all. I was relieved to discover that. A skull that size could only belong to an infant—not something I was even remotely comfortable wearing as jewelry. Wearing a necklace with Legba’s former hand and rib bones was eerie enough.

I lowered my head, and Marie Laveau placed the headdress on me. “I hereby pass the blessing of the queen to you, Annabelle Mulledy.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t feel any different. Felt a little awkward if nothing else. But it was done. I was officially the Voodoo queen. The real challenge would be convincing the surviving Voodoo world of it. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I couldn’t expect them to just follow me because of a title and a headdress. Titles don’t make leaders. Action does.