Silverbow [The Shadowhunter Chronicles]

Through Deep Waters

"The souls of the dead reside in a portion of the underworld known as Guinee. This is not a place of torture or punishment, but rather a murky plane, which sprits must pass through before reaching the "deep waters" where they will be reunited with their loved ones."
–A Brief History of New Orleans Voodoo, by Madame Bones

New Orleans, 2006

The smell of incense wafted out of Madame Bones' House of Voodoo. It engulfed Niya like a warm hug. Her moment of calm only lasted for a moment. A group of noisy tourists rushed out the door, almost knocking her over. Niya rolled her eyes and headed into the shop.

It was packed, as per usual. Tourists weaved in and out of the crowded rooms. Some looked awed and entranced while others cast skeptical glances at the altars. A thin older woman pulled her phone out in an attempt to take a sneaky photograph of Maman Brigitte's shrine. Niya was quick to swipe the phone out of her hand. "There is a no photography sign, literally right there." Niya handed the woman's phone back with a pointed look. The woman scowled but took her phone and headed for the exit.

Niya approached the shrine. She gingerly placed a fresh chili pepper from the farmers market in front of a tiny bottle of spiced rum. She winked, as if she and Maman Brigitte were in on a joke.

"Niya, is that you?" Talia Reynaud called from the back. "Come here, please!" Even with the crowds and the music, her mother's voice still managed to snake it's way to her. Niya headed toward the curtain, pushing it aside with one hand to reveal the hidden room.

The front of the shop was open to mundanes. They came in droves to buy trinkets and catch a glimpse of the mysterious Madame Bones. The gris-gris bags, prayer candles, and good luck charms were not some cheesy trick. They were real, but for the most part they were harmless. It was what lay behind the curtain that drew the shadow world of New Orleans inside.

The ifrit watching the door nodded at Niya as she passed. The gills on his cheeks ruffled with each breath. She smiled at him as she pushed back the curtain. The back room was busy today as well, though decidedly less chaotic than the room Niya had just left.

She waved at a familiar werewolf, and smiled at a vampire she'd hooked up with at a party a few weeks before. "There you are, Niya. Come here," Talia called again. One of her manicured nails taped the small TV screen behind the counter. "I saw you on the camera. I hope you brought some of those peppers for me as well. Auntie is making her famous jambalaya tonight."

"I did, mama," Niya said, hefting her shopping bag onto the counter. Her mother poked around in the bag for a moment. Satisfied with the haul, Talia waved her daughter away.

"Sit it on the table, I'll take it upstairs." Niya did as she was told, ducking behind a second set of curtains. These only hid the storage room and the stairs leading to the Reynaud's apartment. "While you're back there, can you grab the silver bullets?"

Talia's accent was a thick mix of different places. To Niya it had always seemed like a good gumbo. It was a heavy dose of Creole, smoothed out by a little English. Plus, a sprinkling of Spanish thanks to her grandfather's Cuban roots. Niya's own accent had mostly faded, even living in New Orleans with Talia and Auntie Bones. Sometimes she'd put on a thicker accent and imagine she'd grown up in the bayou like her mother and her mother's mother.

Niya located the jar, it was on a high shelf and she was forced to drag a chair over to climb up. The silver bullets clinked against the glass. Niya returned them to the other room, sliding them across the counter to her mother. Talia edged away with a sour look. The glass was thick enough to protect any werewolf against harm, but Talia still didn't like to handle them. "I'll take the groceries up to Auntie, could you finish up with these two?"