them.
Jak’s brow creased.
— Libète…it’s a sad thing, but, there’s nothing we can do. We should leave it to Dimanche and Simeon.
— Jak, I can’t. I don’t know why—I just have this feeling—
— That’s nonsense.
She grimaced. You’re just scared.
— That’s not true! We’ve hit a wall, just like everyone else. We don’t have any ideas about where to go next.
— No, no,
no. That’s
not true. What about the Dyab?
— That old man is
not
a demon in man’s flesh, Libète. It’s strange he was out by the reeds when you crashed into him, but he’s too feeble. He couldn’t have overpowered Claire.
— Maybe he’s faking? I’m telling you, the way he looked at me, he knows something. He’s involved.
— Only because you want him to be!
— Well what about your idea? How does Ezili Dantò fit in? Some lwa?
— I told you what I know about Dantò. She’s the goddess of love, and she protects women and children. Look, all I did was recognize that the bodies were laid out like her and her child in paintings. You know I stay away from all that Voudou stuff. That actually does scare me.
—
Everything
scares you. Maybe we could go talk to the
houngan,
the shaman over in Project
?
He might be able to give us more. He could tell us more about Ezili, and maybe about how we can trap the Dyab!
Jak was exasperated.
— The Dyab. Is. Not. Involved!
Libète sulked, arms crossed, her pride keeping her from meeting Jak’s eyes. He continued. I’m telling you, this is not our wrong to right! All we did was step on some bodies. We didn’t even really know Claire, so I can’t understand why you care so much.
Libète turned with fire in her eyes. You heard what Dimanche said, Jak.
— Right—he said it’s hopeless. That we should give up.
—
No!
That’s only what your pinhole ears wanted to hear! He said if we wanted justice we had to find it for
ourselves
. The thought of San Figi hovering over her made her pause and shiver. We have to try, Jak, we have to. She reached out to touch him. I’ll hate myself if we don’t even try.
Without another word she climbed down from their tower, leaving Jak and walking toward Project Drouillard where she would find the man who could stir spirits.
Jak refused to follow, picking up pebbles from where he sat and casting them away in defiance. He hated it when she pressured him like this.
— Fine! he shouted. I’m coming. But I’m telling you now: no good will come of this! You’ll see!
Libète turned back and gave a smug smile.
— You’ll see, Jak. You’ll see!
THE BLOODY BASIN
Fòk ou bat tanbou a pou tande son l’
You must beat the drum to hear its sound
Le yo vle touye yon chen, yo di l’ fou
When they want to kill a dog, they say it’s mad
Boukman Junior Christophe Ketna is a big man in Cité Soleil. He is a
boko
, a wizard who merits respect, known to heal secret illnesses or curse enemies, able to lighten darkness or darken light.
In more mundane terms, he’s a functionary, an agent working on behalf of his principals. Unlike some normal lackey, his overseers are not stiff men with creased brows in tailored suits, but fickle powers not of this plane at all.
The children proceed through Project, as Project Drouillard is commonly known. Boukman has been here for a long time, a fixture known to everyone in Cité Soleil regardless of religious persuasion.
During the gang wars of years prior, Boukman and the curtilage of his compound were a haven where gang leaders would put their arms aside to be empowered by spirits that could aid in their turf wars against each other, the police, and the U.N. One time, it was whispered, a cocky youth had foolishly entered Boukman’s house armed. When Boukman would not create the young man’s desired curse, he had the temerity to point his weapon in the aging boko’s face. By all accounts, Boukman simply touched a small scar on his arm and the young man fell to the ground,
Jak’s brow creased.
— Libète…it’s a sad thing, but, there’s nothing we can do. We should leave it to Dimanche and Simeon.
— Jak, I can’t. I don’t know why—I just have this feeling—
— That’s nonsense.
She grimaced. You’re just scared.
— That’s not true! We’ve hit a wall, just like everyone else. We don’t have any ideas about where to go next.
— No, no,
no. That’s
not true. What about the Dyab?
— That old man is
not
a demon in man’s flesh, Libète. It’s strange he was out by the reeds when you crashed into him, but he’s too feeble. He couldn’t have overpowered Claire.
— Maybe he’s faking? I’m telling you, the way he looked at me, he knows something. He’s involved.
— Only because you want him to be!
— Well what about your idea? How does Ezili Dantò fit in? Some lwa?
— I told you what I know about Dantò. She’s the goddess of love, and she protects women and children. Look, all I did was recognize that the bodies were laid out like her and her child in paintings. You know I stay away from all that Voudou stuff. That actually does scare me.
—
Everything
scares you. Maybe we could go talk to the
houngan,
the shaman over in Project
?
He might be able to give us more. He could tell us more about Ezili, and maybe about how we can trap the Dyab!
Jak was exasperated.
— The Dyab. Is. Not. Involved!
Libète sulked, arms crossed, her pride keeping her from meeting Jak’s eyes. He continued. I’m telling you, this is not our wrong to right! All we did was step on some bodies. We didn’t even really know Claire, so I can’t understand why you care so much.
Libète turned with fire in her eyes. You heard what Dimanche said, Jak.
— Right—he said it’s hopeless. That we should give up.
—
No!
That’s only what your pinhole ears wanted to hear! He said if we wanted justice we had to find it for
ourselves
. The thought of San Figi hovering over her made her pause and shiver. We have to try, Jak, we have to. She reached out to touch him. I’ll hate myself if we don’t even try.
Without another word she climbed down from their tower, leaving Jak and walking toward Project Drouillard where she would find the man who could stir spirits.
Jak refused to follow, picking up pebbles from where he sat and casting them away in defiance. He hated it when she pressured him like this.
— Fine! he shouted. I’m coming. But I’m telling you now: no good will come of this! You’ll see!
Libète turned back and gave a smug smile.
— You’ll see, Jak. You’ll see!
THE BLOODY BASIN
Fòk ou bat tanbou a pou tande son l’
You must beat the drum to hear its sound
Le yo vle touye yon chen, yo di l’ fou
When they want to kill a dog, they say it’s mad
Boukman Junior Christophe Ketna is a big man in Cité Soleil. He is a
boko
, a wizard who merits respect, known to heal secret illnesses or curse enemies, able to lighten darkness or darken light.
In more mundane terms, he’s a functionary, an agent working on behalf of his principals. Unlike some normal lackey, his overseers are not stiff men with creased brows in tailored suits, but fickle powers not of this plane at all.
The children proceed through Project, as Project Drouillard is commonly known. Boukman has been here for a long time, a fixture known to everyone in Cité Soleil regardless of religious persuasion.
During the gang wars of years prior, Boukman and the curtilage of his compound were a haven where gang leaders would put their arms aside to be empowered by spirits that could aid in their turf wars against each other, the police, and the U.N. One time, it was whispered, a cocky youth had foolishly entered Boukman’s house armed. When Boukman would not create the young man’s desired curse, he had the temerity to point his weapon in the aging boko’s face. By all accounts, Boukman simply touched a small scar on his arm and the young man fell to the ground,
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