My heart ached with loss, remembering my alpha, Albin. Mama made sure to send me back to Africa so I could come into my power in our homeland and find my first Blood. Cyrile had joined us later in New Orleans. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead yet to even contemplate new Blood.
To be honest, I hadn’t even allowed myself to grieve them for fear it would bring me to my knees. My tears blended with the river water but I couldn’t take the time now to work through my loss. Not with the nest under attack.
Though yes. With Her blessing, I would go home to the lands of the Niger River to claim at least my alpha. Someday.
I heard the creaking of gigantic gates swinging open. Power rushed through me, ruffling my hair and dress as if a great windswept past me. Grounded in the Niger River, I opened my eyes. My arms held out, my palms up. My voice boomed. “The Gates of the Dead are open. Come to me, spirits of the dead, and I will help you cross the river to eternal rest.”
The first two goules swung their heads in my direction. Their eyes burned with the spark of life, furious and indignant at being forced back into their crumbling mortal bodies. From the tattered remains of their clothes, I guessed them to have died in the Fifties. With jerky, stiff movements, they turned toward me, moving with surprising speed. My heart lurched, my stomach trembling. Not with doubt or even dread but I did feel a twinge of…
:Oh shit,:Vivian said.:I’m ready to tear them apart.:
Her phoenix swept lower overhead, trailing black and molten red flames in her wake. Her sharp beak and talons would indeed have no problems whatsoever destroying them to end their suffering, but anyone who honored these dead would never know what happened to their bodies.:I’ve got this.:
I think. I hope.
:Say the word and I’ve got your back.:
:Me too,:Shara said.:If there’s trouble, either drop to the ground or let Vivian grab you out of harm’s way. I’ve got flames ready to destroy them.:
I dabbed my index finger in the blood dripping from my left wrist. Standing firm as the dead raced at me in their lumbering, awkward gait, I lifted my chin and waited for them to come close enough. The dead man was slightly faster than the woman. As soon as he came within arm’s reach, I pressed my bloody finger to his forehead.
He jerked to a halt, wavering slightly back and forth. The woman staggered up beside him and I marked her forehead as well.
“By the blood of Oya, Mother of the Nine, you are freedfrom this spell. Return to your eternal rest and roam this earth no more.”
The burning light in their eyes blew out, and I felt their spirits flutter past me through the Gates of the Dead. Their empty bodies turned and shuffled back in the direction they’d come, now just mindless corpses. They knew only where their bones belonged. The dirt of their grave and the stone that marked their resting place called them back like homing pigeons.
:Wow, that’s amazing,:Shara said.:Way easier than my method.:
:How many can you do at the same time?:Vivian asked.:Because there’s five closing in fast.:
I shifted my focus to the group she was worried about. I could wipe blood on my entire hand and then quickly swipe across their bodies, hoping to get their foreheads…
Or. New thought. Do I actually have to touch them at all?
The idea shook me to my core, because I wouldn’t have even contemplated such a feat in the past. With so many to send back, all advancing…
:It’s worth a try,:Shara encouraged.:You’re far stronger now than you’ve ever been.:
True. I’d never had to sink so deep into the river to find the bottom. All that power—gained from suffering—had to be good for something. Right? Besides, other than my blood, magic was all about the intention.
Closing my eyes despite the shuffling mad rush of dead people closing in, I focused on my blood. Then I willed my blood to mark the forehead of each of the dead. All of them. A mental fingerprint of blood pressing to their cold, gray skin. Opening my eyes, I shouted the same phrase again.
“By the blood of Oya, Mother of the Nine, you are freed from this spell. Return to your eternal rest and roam this earth no more.”
Fluttering spirits rushed past me.It’s working.
Relieved, I watched the corpses turn away from their target. Limping, shuffling, mindless, they returned to their graves.
Except for three. Eyes still burning with the fury of their spirit, the dead men didn’t advance any further. They couldn’t, not with my blood smeared on their foreheads. Yet they refused to cross the river to return to their rest.
:This happens sometimes,:I told Shara in the bond.:It’s why research into the dead’s past is so important before a practitioner uses them in this spell. These people remember being wronged in the past, and they refuse to return to the afterlife until the debt is paid. Their hatred and desire for vengeance is strong enough to keep them here.:
:I can force them back,:She replied.:Though as you said, it’ll destroy their bodies.:
:I have a better use for them. Though this will destroy their bodies as well.:
I stepped closer to the three dead. They shook and trembled as I approached, not from fear, but with hatred. They burned with vicious thirst for violence. They would tear me apart if they could.
