Voodoo Queens of New Orleans - Vol. II | In Progress

Chapter Twenty-Six: What Do You Know?

HEZEKIAH

In my many years of life, I had come to realize that desperation was a symptom of fear itself - fear that had haunted me for over a century and a half of existence. And in this very moment, I knew that this type of desperation came from the fear of what was happening to Lisa. But still, there was a stone-cold feeling washing over me when I saw that old Seer's face in the air - a feeling worse than the pain running up my arm from the holy magic.

Aza had forced me to rush over to that witches house to get my arm looked at before sunrise. She hated when I carried her - always got sick and tipsy right when I'd put her down. But it was either that or waiting still next nightfall to see this red-headed witch.

We got back to the house that they called the Grove. Abraham, back at Alize's shop to talk strategy, but Alize wasn't much up to talking after that voodoo spirit showed us what happened to Lisa. It plagued my mind so much that I didn't say a word to Aza as she knocked on the front door of the house, fist full of urgency. She didn't want to think about it; the burn on my arm was an excuse enough for her not to think about how she failed - how we all failed. But we had to make it right. And to do that, we had to let this Sinah woman tear open our chests to look deep into our hearts, for everyone to see. Abraham knew that I knew something; I didn't bother hiding the look on my face from him back at the old church. He saw the fear, the dread. I heard the echo of her voice for over thirty years, and hoped she'd die before any of her words came true. But turns out, she wanted to try and outlive her prediction; see this chaos finally reach its high.

It is all prophesied! You can't turn your back on fate, Hezekiah! There's nowhere left to hide!

"Hezekiah!"

Aza was at the door with the red-headed witch, still in her regular day clothes like she ain't cared to even go to sleep tonight. Stepping forward, she gave me a threating look before grabbing my arm and looking at my wound; I didn't even care to protest. I just stood, stone-faced.

"Shit," She said, setting my arm down. "I should have figured, the chances of this happening."

"I've never patched up a magic wound on an undead before, Louise," Aza said.

"Me neither," said Louise, giving me that threatening look before letting her shoulders relax. Despite that sour scowl on her face, I could smell it on her - fear. I smelled in on Aza, all the time.

Eventually, Louise stepped aside and let us into the house. Aza let me walk in first, Louise trailing behind me. The only light on in the house was in the living room, where all sorts of magic and mystic equipment and such were sprawled about like a twister had hit the place before we arrived. And Louise didn't bother to clean nothing up. She just told me to sit on the couch while she rushed up the stairs.

"I think I got something in my library!" she exclaimed before disappearing up onto the second floor, where I could hear the patter of her feet against the floorboards above my head. Aza didn't bother to sit. She paced around the spell books and silver dollars like they didn't exist under her shoes.

"Aza," I said. "Sit down - "

"I never knew Sajida to be no liar," she mumbled to herself. "Even after what happened, she was never a liar...why would she do this...why..."

I was at her side now, but her eyes still kept wandering elsewhere, lost in thought, unaware who was even standing next to her.

"Aza," I groaned. "Please -"

"Why would she do this!?" she suddenly screamed at me, her face red as a beet, looking to take this frustration out on someone, even if it was me.

"I don't know!" I shouted back, loud enough to shut her up. "I don't know, Camille. No one knows - not you, not me, nobody. But what I do know is that if you don't stop pacing around and sit your ass on this couch, I'm going to fucking lose it. So, sit. Down."