Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(17)

That was nature’s way. That was the circle of life. And now this thing, this abomination, this Orfeo wanted to break that circle. Because he was arrogant and selfish and could not accept his wife’s mortality, or his own. Well, maybe it was high time he learned to.

“Manon? Manon Laveau, have you gone deaf? I asked you a question!”

“Yes, Lafitte,” Manon said at length, “I am sick. Sick to death.”

“What’s wrong? Leech fever? Where’s the pain?”

“In my heart.”

The ghost shook his head sorrowfully. “That’s no good. You’re a goner for sure.”

“Maybe so. But if I’m going, I’m taking a few with me,” Manon said decisively.

Summoning all her powers of concentration, she stared into the stone again. She couldn’t see any sort of swamp spirit, which was good. But she couldn’t see Ava, either, which wasn’t.

Ever since she’d heard the mermaid’s story, Manon felt a strong sense of duty toward her. She wanted to protect her, to help her succeed in her quest. Mostly because she’d come to care for Ava, but also because saving her meant saving the swamp, and all its creatures, from Orfeo.

Manon knew that Ava hadn’t been captured by Traho, because he and his men were lost in the Blackwaters. She’d seen them in the seeing stone moments ago and had had a good long laugh at their expense.

Trouble was, when it came to the Okwa, Manon didn’t even know what she was looking for. No account of them existed because anyone in a position to give one was dead. As she continued to scan the murky waters of the Spiderlair, a flash of silver caught her eye.

“Bet that’s her toothy little piranha,” she said excitedly. As she focused in on the flash, she saw that it was indeed Baby. A ray of sunshine had pierced the swamp’s leafy canopy and was bouncing off his scales. He was swimming around Ava, teeth bared to anything that moved.

Manon heaved a sigh of relief, then started to chant, her voice urgent and low. She called on the gris-gris she’d made for Ava to work its magic, to safeguard her.


Gris-gris spirits, hear my call.

One has come who casts a pall.

He seeks to harm a river’s daughter.

Go, follow her through our black water.




I call upon my magic charm

To keep the mermaid safe from harm.

I bound it hard, I bound it tight

With gifts from creatures of the night.




A talon black, from Brother Owl,

The sound of the coyote’s call,

A rare white gator’s spiky tooth,

A viper’s tongue, of lies and truth.




Give her the silence of midnight’s bird,

Who’s seldom seen and never heard

By prey until it’s far too late,

And sharp black talons seal their fate.




Like Brother Trickster, make her sly.

Show her which way dangers lie.

Like Brother Gator, help her hide.

Let cloaking stillness be her guide.




And most of all, from Brother Snake,

The gift of split speech she must take.

Tell lies to monsters, truth to the just,

And in her own self, place her trust.




Go now, spirits, heed my plea.

Carry this magic to her from me.

Don’t let evil take its toll,

Protect this mermaid, body and soul.



As she finished her chant, Manon sat back. She told herself that the gris-gris would be enough, that it would keep the mermaid safe.

“I made that charm strong,” she whispered. “There isn’t a mer alive who can make one stronger.”

She nearly had herself convinced when it suddenly appeared, slithering out from a tangle of cypress roots, just a few yards ahead of Ava.

Manon’s eyes widened. Her hands clutched the arms of her throne. And then the swamp queen, who had seen many a dark thing in her day, screamed.





THE HEADACHE was so bad tonight, Sera thought it would split her skull in two.

They were getting worse, but she couldn’t let the others know. They would tell her to rest or make her see a doctor, and she couldn’t spare the time. There was too much to do. She had to keep going. She couldn’t let the resistance down.

She was on her way to headquarters to meet with her inner circle. They gathered there every night to talk over the day’s problems.

“Pull yourself together,” she whispered as she entered the cave, then greeted the others. Neela, Ling, and Becca were seated at the far end of the table. Desiderio and Yazeed were at the near end, bent over the map spread across it. As she glanced at it, pain sliced through her brain like a ship’s keel through water. She couldn’t keep from wincing.

Neela noticed. “Sera? What’s wrong?” she asked, concern in her eyes.

Sera forced a smile. “Nothing. Just a cramp in my tail.”

“Hey, Sera,” Des said, motioning her over, “take a look at the map. We need to talk about where to hit first. We can’t put it off any longer.”

The last thing Sera wanted to talk about was that map, and the cowrie shells covering it. They were the reason for her headaches, the reason she hadn’t slept for days.

“I…uh, I want to go over some other things first, Des,” she said, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. “Ling, are you getting any closer to finding the spy? Please tell me yes.”