Cursed Read Free

barefooted.
    Marie reached into her pocket to grip her chicken claw gris-gris for a moment then took a deep breath. She nodded and walked to her place near the candle. Bowing her head, she said a prayer to her family’s god, her ancestors and to the Christian god, whose teachings she still heard every Sunday morning.
    When she was finished, she started to shuffle around the candle in a simple dance.
    The two other House leaders began to sing quietly, Candace in her native Swahili and Olivier in French. Marie listened to their voices as they called to her ancestors to help them. They danced around her, near the inside edge of the protective circle. Their discordant melodies synced, and energy surged through her, a sign the spirits had agreed to help.
    Marie flung her head back and readied herself for the blackness that always came when the spirits possessed her. The scent of the candle and potions filled her senses while the singing warbled as if traveling through water to reach her. She was fading, being replaced by a spirit.
    The darkness came. It was like sleeping, except that her body was awake while her mind stepped away to allow the spirits to communicate in a language others could understand.
    After a moment of pitch black, a vision formed. She saw the white zombie walking the dark streets of New Orleans with the grace of a ghost, dressed in a glowing white dress. She appeared to be following the Red Man, a mysterious figure in a maroon robe whose quick step soon outpaced the girl and Marie. With a flare of red, he disappeared from Marie’s dream, slipping easily out of her mind while the white zombie stayed.
    The beautiful girl from the Fourth House stopped and bent over to touch the booted foot of a bum passed out against a building.
    The man’s foot began to rot then fall a part. The deterioration crawled quickly up his body, consuming all of him, before he crumbled to a powder right before Marie’s eyes.
    She stepped back, repulsed by the touch. She was able to use power channeled by spirits to kill small animals for sacrifice, just by looking at them.
    But the magic she’d just seen was different.
    The building the bum leaned against began to rot next, then crumble.
    Everything the white zombie touched rotted and died: people, buildings.
    Jayden. He was across the street, frozen mid-step.
    As if she just noticed him, the white zombie started to cross the two lanes separating her from Marie’s grandson.
    “Stop!” Marie shouted, chasing the vision in her dream. “You cannot have him!”
    The zombie turned.
    Marie stopped suddenly, afraid the girl meant to hurt her.
    “Please! He is free of the curse. Leave him be!” Marie pleaded.
    “He is both curse and prophecy,” the girl replied. “Just like you. Our families are linked and will remain so. There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Only the Chosen, Warriors and Devil can.”
    For a moment, Marie was too stunned to talk. The white zombie had never done more than threaten her before.
    The girl turned towards Jayden once more.
    “Wait!” Marie said quickly. “Tell me – who is the Chosen? The Devil?”
    “Good luck finding them.” The girl began walking. “Before I do,” she said over her shoulder.
    Marie opened her mouth to speak or scream and warn her grandson.
    She was wrenched awake. The external world was too real, too fast, and she crashed to the ground.
    “Marie!” This voice wasn’t the white zombie but Candace’s.
    Marie felt hands rolling her over, fingers digging into her thick neck to check her pulse. She was sweating profusely and exhausted.
    A fuzzy face appeared above her. Her eyes focused once more.
    “Oh, Marie!” Candace exclaimed. “How are you? Are you well?”
    “Y…yes,” Marie managed. “Takes much … energy for the ritual.”
    Olivier brought her water, and Candace helped her sit. Marie sipped the water, wishing again it was her Sezarec. She needed a stiff drink after the exchange with the zombie.
    The two were