Serafina laughed as her whip grazed the front of Jian Carlo’s pants and gave him a taste of what would come. She would treat him to a longer meal once she had fed and honored her gods. For now, she would return to the circle created by her followers.
She tossed red dust over her shoulder and into Jian Carlo’s face. The effects of the drug would take place soon.
Beside the bonfire was a tree stump she had sawed and sanded into an altar. It was smaller than her altar in Simões Filho but equally useful and gave her a place for the gifts and tools she would need.
She exchanged the red-leather whip for a brick of limestone chalk and a metal cheese grater. As her followers danced and her drummers played, Serafina grated the chalk onto the dirt. The hieroglyphs she created focused her intent and communicated her will to the spirits. Once completed, she exchanged the chalk and grater for seven cigars and fourteen candles—half red, half black—which she planted, wick-up, around the magical designs. She raised her arms to the sky, and the red fringe dripped from her armbands like blood.
“Hail, Exú, King of the Seven Crossroads and Master of Magic.
Hail, Pomba Gira, Consort to Exú and Mistress of Witchcraft.
I invite you to visit and honor you with gifts.”
Serafina knelt in the dirt, lit the fourteen candles and seven cigars, then opened seven small bottles of cachaça, brought to her by a man who wore a furry brown coat. She took a long swig from each of the bottles and arranged them in front of the other offerings.
“See the gifts I have brought for you?”
The bear-man returned, gripping the neck of a terrified rooster. It flapped its wings against the man’s coat and emitted a cloud of dust and feathers. As the creature clawed for escape, Serafina tied a length of twine around its neck with quick precision. She handed the leash to the man and nodded toward a stake impaled in the ground a few meters away.
While the bear-man tied the cock’s leash to the stake, Serafina took the cloth she had stained with Michael Cross’ paint from the waistband of her skirt. She would use this and the blood-tipped knife Jian Carlo would provide to direct her magic to the American and close the paths of life that traveled from the Universe to his body.
All she needed to generate the necessary power for her spell was a worthy steed for the journey and enough blood to soak the trail.