Grandmere’s Secret: Conclusion

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Look for my steamfunk horror novel Mona Livelong coming later this year :)!

They pulled onto the street in Simone’s Honda at the stroke
of midnight. Although it was pitch dark the house was surrounded
by an indigo aura.

Michelle grabbed Paul’s stick and they stepped out of the
car. The moment their feet touched the pavement, the would-be
owners pushed open the screen door…

A fair haired man and his dusky wife
blurred to the edge of the lawn. They grinned
widely exposing their fangs.

“Oh man—!” Paul breathed.

Yet the creatures’ eyes darted nervously to the monkey palm
stick, the three necklaces and the bag of salt Simone held in her
hand.

“Why are you here?” the loup-garou demanded in a raspy
voice. “This land is no longer yours!”

“If you’re human-–which I doubt-–you know I have a legal
right to be here!” Michelle shot back brandishing the stick. “If
you’re not, you better bounce before I beat the hell out of you!”

“Just wait until you meet our master!” the woman hissed.

Michelle, Simone and Paul’s feet stepped on to the lawn,
and a tremor began beneath their feet. The three shook violently-–
dropping to their knees–-as the house and street disappeared… To
be replaced by the Dahomey grasslands under a blood red sun.

A bokor stood before them, his arms folded across his chest.
A giant of man long dead, his ebony skin now gray his eyes
colorless pebbles. The sorcerer clapped his hands and a thousand
warriors sprang from the grass-–White and Black slavers with
whips, chains and muskets.

The sorcerer spoke in a gravelly voice: “Now Angelique you
see my power! You cannot defeat me with monkey palm and salt! I
claim this land in the name of all who rape, pillage and murder with
impunity! I give you your lives, but only if you leave now and
never return! This is my gift and your final warning!”

Michelle stood. The powerful mambo Angelique looked
out of her eyes.

To her left, Simone now possessed by Cosette glared at the
bokor. To her right, stood Paul now possessed by Agadja: Cosette’s
first husband who’d been murdered by the French in Haiti.

Michelle thrust the monkey palm in the ground, at the same
time Simone dropped the bag of salt…it spread in a line behind
them. From its grains scores of ancestors sprang forth…Dahomey
amazons… more who’d been killed in Haiti’s revolution; slaves
who’d died during the middle passage–-all armed with short
machetes and razor swords.

Michelle looked into the bokor’s eyes and saw his fear. It pleased her.
She gave him a smile that was all teeth and raised her arm. The
warriors drummed their feet on the ground in a thunderous roar.

The mambo warrior swung her arm forward and her army
charged into battle with preternatural speed, leaping and flying
about the slaves–-easily dodging the musket fire, whips and chains
of their enemies.

They danced the terrible dance of war, severing heads,
disemboweling the slavers…spilling their black ichor on to the
grass.

Michelle caught the Bokor as he tried to flee across the
plains, flew around in front of him and in one swipe severed his
head. He vanished in a rancid, black cloud of smoke.

For an instant, the plains were littered with the bodies of his
army. Then they went the way of their master.

Paul, Michelle and Simone trembled…felt the release as
their loa left them. The streets of New Orleans returned. Their
ancestors fled into the darkness: all but Angelique and Cosette
standing before them as shapely young women. They embraced the
sisters, in turn and kissed them on the cheek.

“My sweet girls, you’ve made me so proud!” said Angelique.

Grandmere and Cosette vanished. Yet the three heard the
faint clang of battle, as their army drove the infestation of
slavers from the city.

Above her house, dawn was breaking. At length Simone
shook her head. “It should be fun trying to explain to Papa and
Mama why the sale fell through.”

“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that one,” Paul replied.
The three laughed shakily.

“Well,” Simone shrugged, “let’s get Grandmere Aneglique’s
gift, it should be easy now.”

Michelle grinned widely. “We just did.”

Copyright 2010, 2013 Valjeanne Jeffers, Valjeanne Jeffers-Thompson,
Cover art and design Quinton Veal 2010 all rights reserved.

Contact Authors Valjeanne Jeffersand Quinton Veal at http://www.vjeffersandqveal.com
This story has been published in Specular Mythseed and Genesis Science Fiction Magazine
An excerpt was also featured on Black Tribbles Radio Show: Octavia City

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