Pride of the King, The (54 page)

Margarite met his gaze and swallowed hard. Something did not feel right. The man shut the door, never taking his eyes from her. She felt the hair rise on her arms. Sitting down at the table, he continued to stare at her.

Margarite pushed the chamois bag toward him. When he reached out for it, his long, bony fingers swept lightly across her wrist. Margarite jerked her hand back.

Still watching her, the stranger shook the bag and threw the cat bones onto the table. He was obviously familiar with Hoodoo. Margarite looked down at the bones and stared with horror at what she read.

Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach, and dizzy. She clutched at the table to steady herself, and her eyes rolled back. Like a black veil dropping over her head, darkness enveloped her, and she slipped into a swoon.

Something felt wrong to Sydnee as she waited in the woods. She could feel it. Squatting like an animal in the brush, she watched the shed, her knees apart and her bare feet on the soggy ground. The spirits were trying to tell her something. She pressed her eyes shut, straining to see into her mind’s eye. Nothing came to her, nothing but darkness. She closed her eyes again. This time she clutched a charm around her neck and murmured a prayer. Over and over she chanted, “Hail Mary, full of grace--”

A blur of light came to her at last, and gradually, it sharpened into the image of a flame. Sydnee could see candles on a white cloth. She heard something scatter on a table. Her breathing quickened. There was danger. But what was it? She must relax. She must relax or the visions would not come. Sydnee put her head back and opened her mouth to breathe slowly. Over and over she petitioned to the saints for second sight and protection for Margarite.

“St. Michael, stay with her,” she murmured. “Our Lady of the Assumption protect her. St. Gertrude watch over her.”

Sydnee hesitated a moment, feeling the chill of danger. Summoning the greatest of Hoodoo powers, she uttered, “Danbala, I invoke you.”

The mist lifted instantly, and Sydnee saw Margarite sitting in the shed with the stranger. Cat bones were scattered on the table. The guttering candles cast dancing shadows across the room. She saw Margarite’s head roll back, and her jaw drop open. Then like a rag doll, she slumped back into her chair. Sydnee’s heart jumped. She knew she must run to Margarite, but she could not move.

The stranger put his hands on the table and stood up slowly. His body unfolded like a mantis, and he took a gutting knife from his belt.

“I must go to her!” Sydnee’s mind screamed, but she was paralyzed, a prisoner of her vision. She saw movement on the floor of the shed. The long body of a snake slipped under the door and began to glide toward the stranger. As it stretched out to its full length, Sydnee could see the diamond pattern on its back.

“Cumptico!” she cried. Her head snapped forward, and her eyes opened.

Sydnee jumped to her feet and bolted toward the shed, her feet splashing in the mud. When she threw the door open she saw the stranger standing over the body of Margarite. Between the man and Margarite was the coiled form of Cumptico, ready to strike. The front portion of his body was upright as he challenged the stranger; his tail rattling ominously, and his tongue darting out.

Margarite raised her head and screamed.

From the doorway, Sydnee said with strained reserve, “Cumptico, my thanks to you. Your job here is done.”

The snake did not move, nor the man. The stranger looked at Sydnee with hate in his eyes.

“Danbala, I beseech you,” she said, with her hands upturned.

At last, the snake dropped down and slithered out the door.

With a crash, Victor Sauveterre stormed into the shed. “What the hell’s going on here?” he roared. Grossly overweight with a shock of red hair and skin the color of a fish’s underbelly, Sydnee’s father was massive. “What happened?”

“It was a snake, Papa,” Sydnee said quietly.

He turned to Margarite and roared, “I told you to keep your goddamned creatures out of here!”

Suddenly assuming an obsequious air, he straightened up and said to the stranger, “I apologize for my nigger. She will be punished for this. How can I make this up to you, sir?”

Putting his knife away, the stranger pushed past him toward the door.

Victor Sauveterre grabbed Sydnee. “You may have my daughter for no charge tonight.”

Margarite blurted suddenly, “
Mais non
, Master! The girl is about to give birth.”

The innkeeper turned and back handed Margarite across the face. “Shut up!” The force of the blow sent her staggering.

Changing back to faux gentility, he added, “Have the girl, with my compliments, sir. She is a little bigger than normal but I assure you, she will satisfy.”

Sydnee held her breath and waited. The wind chimes moved slightly, sending a tinkling sound through the room.

The stranger looked at Victor Sauveterre and then at Sydnee. He shook his head and left The Devil’s Backbone.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OABX19M