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

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Dry Arms

We're BAAAAAAAAAACK.

I won't keep you long. Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this update; it's long overdue.

**

HEZEKIAH

I returned to the House with The Great Oracle Sinah at my side, right before sunrise. It marked the second time I had brought a witch to Abraham in their sleeping garments.

I knew what he was going to ask, but seeing the state she was in made Abraham hold his tongue and bring her in. I wasn't safe from his eye; he could put the pieces together on his own if he wanted to just by the way he was staring at me.

Sinah, surrounded by a clan of vampires, wasn't phased by these bloodsuckers in the presence of a human. Even though this mortal was off-limits, some of the young bloods were intrigued by her scent. We brought her into the Study to avoid distractions.

No one else was allowed in - not Boone, not Tanya, or any of the other Lords. Sinah was supposed to be our little secret between me, Abraham, and the witches, and I ruined that by bringing her here. But I didn't care if it was out in the open. God only knows what would have happened to this old woman tonight if I weren't there...

Sinah hadn't let go of my arm since Marinette showed up at her house. Even with Abraham right in front of her, she had this hard look on her face as if she was still replaying the skeleton woman's appearance over in her mind's eye.

"You're a mess, Oracle," Abraham said when he saw the state of her nightgown and unruly hair. "You should get cleaned up, get some rest."

"I'm quite alright." Her hand off of my arm felt a little foreign. She shuffled over to an empty seat and plopped in it.

"You're hungry," I told her; I could hear her stomach rumbling. "Let us fetch you something."

"They's more important thing to tend to, sir."

I didn't press the issue. I sat down a few chairs away from her. Abraham kept his seat across from hers, his posture upright but not stressed. "We had planned to see you, come next nightfall." His eyes shifted over to me. "What happened?"

"Reckoning, that be what happened." Her head wandered like she was seeing haints about the room already. "She come with a vengeance. A fury. Festering for what feel like one hundred years."

"Who?" Abraham asked.

"Marinette of the Dry Arms, vampire. The Loa of power, violence, fire. The spirit that rules over that Bayou y'all is trying to get into. The witches and mambos in that bayou pay they respects to her."

"She didn't look like a spirit when we saw her outside your house," I said.

"No, no, no, she still a spirit; a powerful one, making herself look as real as she could. But she not in flesh. Not for long, I's afraid; Mama Dantor show me. Marinette been trying to manifest on this earthly plane for a few lifetimes -"

"Start from the beginning, Oracle." Abraham, with a deep brow, stood from his seat and aimed that scowl right at the old woman. "I have to wrap my mind around the fact that there's yet another voodoo spirit scorned that we have to deal with..."

If the Oracle had eyes, she'd be rolling them along with the smack of her tongue she gave us. Her hand rose slowly, her tremors pointing at the darkened fireplace on the other end of the study behind Abraham's desk.

"Go on over there and fetch me a handful of that ash dump."

Abraham looked over at the fireplace, dark and asleep between the lanterns that were doing all its work. Then he looked back at the Oracle, curious. Part of him probably didn't think the Oracle was the Seer they said she was, but unless she could smell 10-day-old ash from across the room, Abraham had enough reason now to believe.