Chasing Power (25 page)

Moonbeam left for work the next morning a little before ten. She kissed Kayla on the cheek and promised to cook her favorite fried tofu for dinner. Kayla dredged up a smile and made a show of selecting a book to read. As soon as Moonbeam was gone, Kayla sprinted for the shelves. She grabbed the basket that she’d seen Moonbeam with yesterday, and she pulled out the voodoo doll.

Hands shaking, she carried it to the sink. She dropped it in and pulled out her lighter. She flicked on the flame—and then flicked it off. This might be a very, very bad idea. For all she knew, if she set it on fire, she could spontaneously combust in reaction. She needed a safe way to neutralize the doll.

Luckily, she
did
know an expert.

Pulling out her phone, she found the number for Queen Marguerite’s store and dialed it. An older woman with a thick Louisiana accent answered. “Voodoo Spells and Charms. Queen Marguerite, blessed be, at your service.”

Thank goodness she was there. “Your Majesty, this is Kayla … from the other day? You know, the one who helped you clean your shop? And the one you saved from the snake bite?”

“Ahh, the fixer. Yes, of course, my dear, I remember you. What can I do for you? Have you plucked out the evil in your family’s heart?”

“Um, not yet. But I have a little problem … I need to know how to disable a voodoo doll.” She cradled the doll in one hand as she held the phone with the other.

“Voodoo dolls are much misunderstood. They’re used for good intentions, not bad. For protection, not harm! Hollywood has misrepresented my religion—”

Kayla interrupted. “My mother dipped it in herbs and said words over it, and now I can’t leave without becoming incredibly sick.”

There was silence on the other end. At last, Marguerite said, “Your mother did this?” She had an odd note in her voice. Almost … hopeful.

“She’s worried about me,” Kayla said. “I can’t … I haven’t told her what I’ve been doing. She wouldn’t understand. She thinks using magic is evil.”

“Yet she used it to confine you?”

“Yeah, believe me, I noticed the irony.”

There was silence, as if Marguerite was thinking or distracted, and then she said briskly, “You cannot destroy the doll. Not without harm to yourself.”

Kayla felt her heart sink. She stared out the window at the hedges around the garden. She imagined never seeing beyond them. “There has to be a way. I have to escape. We … we found one of the stones, but the kidnapper took it from us.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it was her father. “We only have one chance left.”

She braced herself for anger, but Queen Marguerite only said, “Then this time, you must not fail. And then you must retrieve two stones from your enemy. If they complete the spell … you won’t like the consequences.”

“I can’t do any of that trapped here. How do I break the spell?”

“One who knows the spell can negate it.”

“I don’t think my mom’s in the mood.” Out the window, she saw Daniel appear. His legs were caked in mud from the knee down, but he seemed okay. He waved to her, and she waved back. “Do you know the spell?”

“As it happens, yes, I do. But I cannot break it over the phone. It must be in person. Bah, I hate house calls. For you, little fixer, I will make an exception … on one condition.”

Kayla stopped herself from saying “anything.” “What condition?”

“Bring the stones to me.”

“Why? What do you want with them?”

“I want to hide them. Even alone, they cause too much damage. I want to ensure all three stones are hidden so well that no one will ever find any of them again.”

“Works for me. So long as Daniel’s reunited with his mother and my dad’s safely behind bars first.” Kayla rushed outside. “Daniel? Are you okay?”

“Send the boy to me. I can’t jump to a place I’ve never seen.”

“Can you jump to Louisiana?” Kayla asked Daniel. She waved the phone in the air. “I need Queen Marguerite. She can break the spell.”

Without a word, he vanished.

Into the phone, Kayla said, “Daniel’s coming for you.”

“Ah, yes. Hello, Daniel.”

Kayla heard the phone click off. Retrieving the voodoo doll, she paced back and forth in the garden. She had second thoughts. And third thoughts. And fourth. She’d had it drilled into her again and again: don’t trust anyone. She didn’t know Queen Marguerite, not really, though the woman had saved her life. And Queen Marguerite knew too much, including Daniel’s mother.

Before she could truly reconsider, Daniel returned—with the voodoo queen.

Cane in front of her, back ramrod straight, and eyes narrowed, Queen Marguerite surveyed the garden. Her cane was black and curved, with a silver skull at the top. She caressed the top of the skull as her piercing eyes swept over the hedges, the bench, the gnomes, and at last Kayla.

“So, can you help her?” Daniel asked.

“Yes,” Queen Marguerite said decisively. “And I will.” She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a white cloth and a plastic pouch with white sand in it. “The doll, please.”

Kayla hesitated for a moment—if her mother could trap her with this doll, then what could a real voodoo queen do? She reminded herself that Queen Marguerite was on her side and that she had little choice but to trust her, if she wanted to escape. She handed over the voodoo doll. Queen Marguerite wrapped the doll in the white cloth.

“Stand still.” Marguerite opened the pouch and began to pour the sand in a circle around Kayla.

“What is this?” Kayla asked.

“One of nature’s greatest neutralizers. Salt. It can help end an open-ended compulsion like this or stop an unfinished spell.” Halting, Queen Marguerite looked at the salt critically. “It needs to be a solid circle.”

Kayla shifted a few grains of salt with her mind, filling in fissures in the circle. She then checked all the way around. “I think it’s good.”

“You’ll excuse me if I dispense with the sideshow fanfare and usual light show. Real magic comes from the mind, not the paraphernalia. They merely facilitate. Also, they make people tip more.”

“My mother says the same thing,” Kayla said.

“She does?” Marguerite seemed startled.

“Half the charms here aren’t real.” Kayla waved at the charms on the hedge, over the gate, and in the window. “They’re for show.”

“Well, then,” Marguerite said softly. “Well, then, indeed.” She surveyed the various charms, the garden gnomes, and the ceramic fairies. “Your mother and I have much in common. Regardless, best get you on your way.” Carrying the doll, the voodoo queen walked in a steady circle counterclockwise around Kayla, muttering in the sonorous tone that Moonbeam used for her spells. The words spun around Kayla, through her head and around her skin, leaving no impression on either. “There, that should work.” To Daniel, Marguerite said, “Don’t break the circle. When you’re ready, reach over it, touch her hand, and go. Once she’s away, the compulsion will end, and she will be able to come
and go freely without any side effects.” To Kayla, she added, “And no one, not your mother, not anyone, will be able to use this doll against you—or for you—again.”

“Thank you,” Kayla said.

“Don’t thank me. Just find the third stone,” Queen Marguerite said. “And the next time I come, have your mother bake some of her brownies. That will be payment enough.”

Kayla, who had been reaching for Daniel, dropped her hand. She felt cold in the pit of her stomach. “How do you know my mother?”

Queen Marguerite smiled. “Wrong question. Someday you have to ask her how she knows
me
. After all, who do you think taught her this spell?” And then she vanished.

Kayla looked at Daniel. She had the horrible feeling that she’d made a terrible mistake. Now the voodoo queen had seen where she lived; she could come anytime. She wanted to call Moonbeam, confess it all. “Catch your father, and that will fix everything,” Daniel said. “Your mother will be safe. And so will mine.” He held out his hand. Kayla took it. And the garden disappeared.

Kayla and Daniel were on a road.

The air felt thick and hot. The pavement was cracked, and heat rose off it in waves, as if it were the surface of a volcano. A signpost next to the road listed kilometers to Guadalajara. Focusing on it, she breathed in. And out. She didn’t feel sick.

Daniel watched her. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”

“You know your father could already be there.”

“Or maybe he’s still in Peru. But if he is there …” She dug her hands into her pockets and felt the fishing line and hooks. “I distract him; you grab him.” If she sent the hooks into his skin, they’d hurt enough to surprise him, hopefully enough to keep him from casting any spells, and then she could use the line to tie him up or trip him or at least slow him until Daniel reached him. It was a simple plan, but sometimes those worked the best. She just had to be quick and not freeze in abject terror when she saw him. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Ready when you are.”

Another jump, and they were in front of a Catholic church on the outskirts of a town. Flies buzzed around them, and the air
smelled like car exhaust. The road was dirt and had deep potholes in it, the kind that looked like they swallowed cars. Two pickup trucks were parked outside the church. One had a gun rack, and the other had a tarp covering its bed. She wondered if either of them was her father’s. She’d never thought about what kind of vehicle a murderer would drive. “Be alert,” she whispered.

The lawn of the church was cut short and dotted with crab-grass. Fake flowers adorned a statue of the Virgin Mary beside the front double doors. Except for the two trucks, the place looked deserted. She didn’t see any movement at all. Even the wind was still.

“So we just trespass?” she asked.

“Pretend we’re tourists,” Daniel advised as he walked toward the doors of the church. “People forgive a lot if they think you’re an ignorant idiot with money to spend where they live.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience.” Following him, she thought of all the photos in his bedroom. He’d seen so much of the world.

“Use it all the time,” Daniel said. “Once, I jumped to the Roman Coliseum. Scared off about a billion cats and nearly was arrested, until they decided I was an idiot tourist.”

“I want to see Rome someday.”

“When this is over, I’ll take you,” Daniel offered. “I know this great gelato place by the Trevi Fountain, tourist prices but worth it. Best flavor in the world is
niccolo
. It’s hazelnut. Do you like ice cream?”

“Everyone likes ice cream. Have you forgotten that I haven’t forgiven you?” As she walked toward the church doors, she continued to scan the area. If her father were here, would he be inside? Had he already been here?

“You said you liked me.”

“That has zero to do with whether I ever want to see you again.”

“Then I’ll have to try to bribe you with ice cream.” Catching her hand, he swung her around to face him. “Kayla, this is it. I can feel it. The stone is here!”

His smile was so infectious that she couldn’t help smiling back.

“You are my good luck charm. If it weren’t for you—”

“Let’s see if it’s here before you start praising me.” Pulling him with her, she marched to the doors. Plaster saints watched them from alcoves on either side. Wreaths lay at their feet. Kayla tried one of the doors, and it opened. No lock. “Remember: if you see my father, don’t hesitate. Jump fast. I’ll keep him from saying any spells.”

Inside, it was noticeably cooler. Cool air seemed to radiate from the stone walls and floors, and everything was bathed in red and blue shadows, cast by the sun through the stained glass. The pews were festooned with wilted flowers, and at the front of the church, the altar was draped in white-and-gold cloth. Kayla heard voices speaking Spanish from somewhere near the altar—two voices: a woman and an elderly man. She couldn’t see them. Keeping to the side of the church, Kayla and Daniel didn’t speak.

The stones on the walls bore names. She recognized the words for mother, sister, and grandmother on one stone and uncle and brother on the other. “Do you think it’s with any of them?” Kayla whispered to Daniel. “Our Maya jumper seems to like tombs.”

“Not a bad place to hide something,” Daniel said. “Dead people tend to stay put.”

There were dates beneath the names: 1879, 1900, 1898, 1903 … Abruptly, Kayla quit walking. “Daniel, look at the dates. This church … How old is it?”

He looked at her, his face stricken.

Retreating to the vestibule, they found a historical marker by the front doors. The church had been built in 1856. Daniel’s shoulders slumped. “We should have realized the moment we saw this place,” Kayla said. “Catholicism didn’t even exist here until the Spanish showed up.” Frowning at the dates, she didn’t look at Daniel. She didn’t have to see his expression to know he was looking like a wounded puppy again.

“I’m an idiot,” Daniel said. “The stone can’t be here. It’s—”

“If you say ‘it’s over,’ I’ll smack you.”

He didn’t complete the sentence.

“We need to find out what was here before this church.” Kayla glanced toward the altar. The voices had ceased. Where had those people gone? “There has to be someone we can ask. I heard a man and a woman before.”

Across the nave, she spotted a priest. She pulled Daniel toward him. “Hello!
¡Hola!
” She waved. “Really sorry to bother you, but we have some questions about the church.
¿Habla inglés?
”

The priest shook his head, spoke a few words in Spanish, and then started to walk away.

Kayla and Daniel hurried to catch up to him. “Have you seen this man?” She pulled the photo out of her pocket and pointed to her father. Barely looking at it, the priest shook his head. “He’d be older now.” She pointed to her hair. “Older. You know … Daniel, do you speak any Spanish?”

“Nada,” Daniel said.

Again, the priest shook his head apologetically. Shrugging, he began to walk away again. This time, they let him. Maybe there was someone else around … that woman she’d heard?

Kayla and Daniel scoured the church—the vestibule, the pews, the altar. Except for the priest, they were alone. Going outside, they looked up and down the dirt road. No houses were visible. Wind blew dried-up weeds against a barbed-wire fence. The two trucks were still there. One could belong to the priest. She didn’t know about the other one.