Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [133]
“We have to destroy whatever substance the mambo used to enslave them. Considering what we know about Nelli’s possession . . . Ah. This may be what we’re looking for.”
Max found two small vials of blood on the altar. He picked them up, smashed them against the floor, then reached into his bag and pulled out a little bottle of holy water. He sprinkled the water over the blood and glass that lay on the floor while he said something in Latin; it sounded like a prayer.
A moment later, Puma swayed dizzily, put a hand up to her brow, and said, “Oh, my head . . .” She looked around the room and blinked in astonishment. “Esther? Dr. Zadok! What’s going on?”
Biko drew in a sharp breath, bent over suddenly, and clutched his head. “Ouch. What the hell . . .”
Puma gasped when she saw the altar. “I saw that before . . . What is this place? What’s happened?”
“This is the bokor’s lair,” I said. “You and Biko have been possessed by the white darkness. But you seem to be coming out of it now.”
I thought this was a pithy summary; but a lot of confused questions and outraged demands followed my statement.
While I explained what had been going on, Max was systematically destroying and purifying ritual objects throughout the room. Once the siblings understood the extent of what had been done to them, Biko and Puma joined in. I started looking for a poppet that resembled me. While searching the room, I slipped in some of Napoleon’s blood. I shuddered in revulsion and continued my search.
“Esther!” Puma pulled a doll out of an urn that sat before the altar. “I found it!”
“Oh, thank God!” Taking it from her, I scowled when I saw that the burlap doll was dressed in a leopard-skin blouse and a tiny red skirt. “That is so unfair! I was in costume that day! She can’t really think I go around dressed like that?”
“It’s good that you don’t get distracted by trivial things in a crisis, Esther,” said Biko.
Puma sent her brother a warning glance, then said, “Dr. Zadok? Let’s neutralize this poppet.”
“Immediately!” While Puma held the doll, Max baptized its little head in holy water. She prayed in Creole, he in Latin.
Then Puma held the head up to me, “Take back your hair and burn it. Not here, but later, in a safe place. When you go home.”
I pulled the fragile, tangled bits of brown hair off the poppet, relieved when I discovered that doing so didn’t make my own head hurt.
“Now tear open the doll with your own hands and remove the stuffing,” Puma said. “Take all the bits home with you and burn them separately.”
I did as instructed, then put the messy bits and pieces of my former poppet into my purse.
“Ah-hah!” Max cried. “I found it!”
He picked up a little jar from the overcrowded altar. We all gathered around to peer at it. Inside, there was a dog’s claw with some hair and dried flesh attached, as well as a quantity of dried blood.
“This whole dark magic thing is just so revolting!” I said.
Max smashed the jar against the floor, performed his purifying ritual, and then urged me to call Jeff. I did so. Jeff’s first question was about Puma, of course. I assured him she was fine.
“As are the rest of us, by the way.” I explained what had happened.
Max, Biko, and Puma continued tearing the room apart while I tried to convince Jeff to open the stairwell door and take a look at Nelli. I could hear Frank in the background, predicting that the two of them would die a violent, bloody death if Jeff did what I was asking.
Puma went down the hall to the hounfour to gather some positive ritual objects and bring them in here to start rebalancing the forces at work in this space.
“Why can’t this wait until you’re back?” Jeff said. “Then Max can be the one to risk his life to check on his dog’s mood.”
“Max can’t wait that long. He’s very worried about her.” Hearing a deafening silence in response to this, I said to Jeff, “Okay. I’ll just tell Puma that we’ve got to leave the rest of the work here up to her, because now we have to go home and check on Nelli since you’re too af—”
“All right,” he snapped.