Beautiful Chaos (47 page)

E
than!”

Lena was screaming, and I couldn’t find her. I tried to run, but I kept falling because the ground was moving beneath my feet. The pavement on Main was shaking so hard that dirt and rocks were flying up into my eyes. The road rolled on, and it felt like I was standing on the edge of two tectonic plates battling it out.

I stood there, one foot on each plate, while the world shook and the chasm between the plates widened. The crack was so big I knew I was going to fall. And it was getting bigger.

It was only a matter of time.

“Ethan!” I heard Lena’s voice, but I couldn’t see her.

I looked through the crack and saw her—far below me.

And then I was falling….

My floor hit me harder than usual.

Lena!

I heard her voice, groggy and half asleep.

I’m here. It was just a dream.

I flipped over onto my back, trying to catch my breath. I balled up the sheet and threw it across the room.

Everything’s fine.

I knew I didn’t sound very convincing.

Seriously, Ethan. Is your head okay?

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

My head’s fine. It’s the Earth’s tectonic plates I’m worried about.

She didn’t answer for a moment.

And you’re worried about me.

Yeah, L. And you.

She knew when I woke up screaming her name that she had suffered another violent, frightening end in one of my dreams we hadn’t shared since the Seventeenth Moon. And the dreams were getting worse, not better.

It’s because of everything we went through last summer, Ethan. I’m still reliving it, too.

But I didn’t tell her it was happening to me every night, or that she wasn’t the one in danger this time. I didn’t think she wanted to know how much reliving I was doing. I didn’t want her to feel like it was getting in the way of living.

There was something else getting in the way of living, at least
for me. The answer to the question that Amma wouldn’t give me and I couldn’t figure out. But I was pretty sure there was someone else who knew, and I finally had enough guts to go see him.

The only question left was whether or not I could get him to tell me.

It was pitch-black outside as I pulled the front door closed behind me. When I turned around, Lucille was sitting on the porch, watching me.

“Didn’t get enough of the Tunnels last time?” Lucille cocked her head to one side, her standard answer. “Let’s get going.”

I heard a rip. Actually, it sounded more like a nasty tear.

I spun around. I wasn’t ready for another visit from Abraham. But this time it wasn’t him—far from it.

Link was lying on his back, caught in the bushes. “Man, this Travelin’ thing takes some serious practice.” He climbed out of the bushes and brushed himself off. “Where we headed?”

“How did you know I was going somewhere? Were you fishing around in my head?” If he was, he was dead.

“I told you before, I don’t wanna mess around in that Temple a Doom.” He brushed off his Iron Maiden T-shirt. “I don’t sleep, remember? I was wanderin’ around outside, and I heard you sneakin’ downstairs. It’s one of my superpowers. So, where are we goin’?”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell him. But the truth was I didn’t want to go alone. “New Orleans.”

“You don’t know anybody in—” Link shook his head. “Dude, why does it always have to be graveyards and crypts
with you? Can’t we hang out somewhere that isn’t full a dead bodies?”

Another question I couldn’t answer.

The tomb of voodoo queen Marie Laveau was exactly the same. I stared at the Xs carved into the door, and wondered if we should leave our own—in case we never came back out. But there was no time to think about it, because Link had the door open in seconds and we were inside.

The rotted, crooked stairs were still there, leading down into the darkness. So were the smoke and the putrid smell that clung to your skin, even after you took a shower.

Link coughed. “Licorice and gasoline. That’s nasty.”

“Shh. Be quiet.”

We reached the base of the stairs, and I could see the workshop, or whatever this awful place was called. There was a dim light coming from inside, illuminating the jars and bottles. My skin crawled at the sight of reptiles and tiny mice frantically trying to escape.

Lucille hid behind my leg as if she was afraid she might end up in one of those jars.

“How do we know if he’s home?” Link whispered.

Before I could answer, a voice rose from behind us. “I am always home, in one form or another.”

I recognized the bokor’s gravelly voice and heavy accent. He looked even more dangerous up close. His skin was unwrinkled, but scars marred his face. They looked like scratches and puncture wounds, as if he’d been attacked by a creature that wasn’t in one of
those jars. His long braids were ratty, and I could see tiny objects tied into them. Metal symbols and charms, bits of bone and beads laced so tightly that they’d become part of the hair itself. He was holding his snakeskin staff.

“We’re—we’re sorry to show up like this,” I stammered.

“Was it a dare worth takin’?” His hand tightened on the staff. “Trespassin’ is a violation a the law. Yours and mine.”

“We didn’t come here on a dare.” My voice was still shaking. “We came to find you. I have questions, and I think you’re the only person who can give me the answers.”

The bokor’s eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his goatee, intrigued. Or maybe contemplating how to dispose of our bodies after he killed us. “What makes you think I have the answers?”

“Amma. I mean, Amarie Treadeau. She was here. I need to know why.” I had his attention now. “I think it was about me.”

He studied me carefully. “So, you’re the one. Interestin’ you would come here, instead a to your Seer.”

“She won’t tell me anything.”

There was something in his expression, beyond recognition. “This way.”

We followed him into the room with the smoke and the fumes and the lingering residue of death. Link was next to me, whispering. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“I’ve got an Incubus with me, right?” It was a bad joke. But I was so scared, I could barely think.

“A quarter.” Link took a deep breath. “Hope that’s enough.”

The bokor stood behind the wooden table as Link and I stood facing him on the other side. “What do you know about my business with the Seer?”

“I know she came to you about a spread she didn’t like.” I
didn’t want to reveal everything I knew. I was afraid he would realize this wasn’t our first time here. “I want to know what the cards said. Why she needed your help.”

He watched me carefully, as if he could see right through me. It was the way Aunt Del looked at a room when she was sorting through the layers. “That’s two questions, and only one a them matters.”

“Which one?”

His eyes gleamed in the dark. “Your Seer needs my help to do somethin’ she can’t. To join the
ti-bon-age
, mend the seams she ripped herself.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. What seams had Amma ripped?

Link didn’t understand either. “T-bone what? What kinda steak are we talkin’ about here?”

The bokor’s eyes locked on me. “You really don’t know what’s waitin’ for you? It’s watchin’ us now.”

I couldn’t speak.

It’s watching us now.

“What—what is it?” I barely choked out the words. “How do I get rid of it?”

The bokor walked over to the terrarium filled with writhing snakes, and lifted the lid. “That’s two questions again. I can only answer one.”

“What’s watching me?” My voice was shaking, and my hands—every part of me.

The bokor lifted a snake, its body ringed in black, red, and white. The snake coiled around his arm, but the bokor held its head as if he knew it might strike.

“I’ll show you.”

He led us to the center of the room, close to the source of the nauseating smoke, a huge pillar that resembled a candle. It looked like it had been made by hand. Lucille crouched under a nearby table, trying to avoid the fumes—or maybe the snake or the crazy guy carrying what looked like eggshells over to a bowl at our feet. He crushed the shells with one hand, careful to keep his other hand on the head of the snake.

“The
ti-bon-age
is meant to be one. Never separated.” He closed his eyes. “I will call Kalfu. We need the help of a powerful spirit.”

Link elbowed me. “I don’t know if I like the sound a that.”

The bokor closed his eyes and started to speak. I recognized traces of Twyla’s French Creole, but it was mixed with a language I’d never heard before. The words were muffled, as if the bokor was talking to someone close enough to hear him whisper.

I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to see, but it couldn’t be any weirder than Aunt Prue outside her body or the Lilum inside Mrs. English’s.

The smoke started to swirl slowly, growing denser. I watched as it curved and began to take shape.

The bokor was chanting louder now.

The smoke started to change from black to gray, and the snake hissed. Something was forming from the smoke. I’d seen this before, in Bonaventure Cemetery, when Twyla called my mother’s Sheer.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the smoke. The body formed from the bottom up, just as my mom’s had. The feet and the legs.

“What the hell?” Link tried to back up, but he tripped.

The torso and the arms.

The face was the final element to emerge.

It stared back at me.

A face I would have known anywhere.

My own.

I jumped away, scrambling backward.

“Holy crap!” Link shouted, but his voice seemed far away.

Panic gripped me like two hands wrapping themselves around my neck. The figure started to fade.

But before it did, the Sheer spoke. “I’m waiting.”

Then it was gone.

The bokor stopped chanting, the sickening candle blew out, and it was over.