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  Louis shook his head. Unexpectedly, he started to recite the chant that Ti Jean adored.

  Fre Ti Jean eh ah eti papa, fres Ti Jean eh ah et tipapa

  Houngan p abo yon jou ya mouri ya mouri Ti Jean fres Ti Jean eh ya mouri

  Azaro.

  Louis’ act of respect made Ti Jean very happy. The flames became hotter and rose higher and higher until it seemed as if the starry sky had caught on fire. Ti Jean’s voice floated through the flames. “Jump into the fire,” he commanded.

  Louis and I glanced at one another. We had done some pretty crazy things, but willingly jumping into blazing flames was a whole new level of insanity.

  “I don’t know, Queen.” Louis’ voice was filled with uncertainty.

  I took a deep breath and shut out my own fear. I took his hand into mine and looked him in the eyes. “We’re like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, we’re going to get thrown into the fire, but we aren’t going to get burned.”

  “How can you be so certain?” he asked, still not convinced.

  “Because, Bon Dieu is bigger than whatever Emilie is cooking up and I have faith.”

  “Faith?”

  I nodded.

  He smirked and pulled me forward into the flames. “Thrown into the fire, but never get burned,” he said, as the flames devoured us completely.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Freedom Tree

  Darkwood Plantation- 1853 a few months after the death of Cecile Lanuit

  My eyes opened and I was once again Collette. The night air was humid and filled with the spicy scent of chicken jambalaya and buttery bread and vegetables. The full moon was large and hung low. It cast a brilliant glow over the slave camp making it seem merry and almost picturesque rather than a place of misery and desperation.

  I sat around a roaring fire with Abram and the other slaves. I glanced around the faces that surrounded me. They were happy and full of life as they indulged in the feast that rested before them. The transformation that had taken place over the course of a month and half could only be chalked up to a miracle. As promised by Emilie, the New Orleans death rite had taken care of Bernard. Exactly one month after we had performed the ceremony, he had died suddenly. He was going about his business, whipping a poor slave when he started to clutch his heart. He fell to the ground and blood had started to ooze from his mouth. Strangely, the blood had smelled like whiskey. Abram and I had witnessed the whole scene, but we hadn’t felt an ounce of remorse. Every single one of the slaves on the plantation had rejoiced.

  Emilie had used her ways and means on the other drivers and overseers as well. She hadn’t killed them, but she had used tricks on them. Voodoo dolls and a variety of other Hoodoo methods were used to keep them off of our backs. But that wasn’t all she had done. Emilie had a heart of gold. Every night she brought us delicious dishes from the main house and sat around the fire with us. She listened to the heart wrenching tales the slaves told and gave them hope that freedom was no longer a distant dream.

  I smiled as I watched Emilie comfort poor old Beth. My eyes filled with admiration at her capacity for kindness and sympathy.

  Abram nudged me. “Quit staring. It isn’t polite,” he whispered.

  I looked at him. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it, isn’t she wonderful?”

  Abram nodded in agreement. “I suppose I was wrong about her. She’s a miracle worker.” Even Abram was hypnotized by Emilie.

  Emilie glanced at us and excused herself from Beth’s side. “Abram, Collette may I please have a word in private?” she asked ever so sweetly.

  “Yes, of course,” I said.

  Abram and I followed her into our cabin. She shut the door and lit the candles that rested on the ground. She pulled out her sack of herbs, dust, powders, potions, and a variety of other tools.

  “It’s time to start the escape. I’ve held off the drivers and overseers, but I have a feeling that Madame LaPlante is getting suspicious. You both know I can’t use my ways and means on her, we’ll only call attention to ourselves and that is the last thing we need.”

  Abram let out a low sigh. Distress filled his eyes and I knew that he was thinking about the Fugitive Slave Act. It required that all escaped slaves were, upon capture, to be returned to their masters. Even officials and citizens that lived in Free States were under this law. The country was a dangerous place. “I don’t know Emilie,” he said.

  “Abram, Emilie has already done so much for us. She’s done the impossible. I have no doubt that she’ll deliver us all.”

  Abram still wasn’t sold.

  “Abram, have you no faith?” Emilie asked. “Look, if it makes you feel better. I’ll explain the plan again. Listen carefully and see how I have everything perfectly worked out. One by one the slaves will pretend they are dead. After I pass this Coup Poudre onto their skin, they’ll appear to be dead for exactly three days.”

  “This potion, Emilie, we’ve never heard of such a thing,” Abram said. His voice was full of suspicion. It was true. Although Emilie had introduced us to a world of tricks, she was vastly more advanced than us in terms of knowledge. She was even more powerful than Marie had been.

  Emilie took some material from her sack and laid them on the ground in front of us. “Look, it’s easy. I’ll show you how to make it.”

  She read the list of ingredients which consisted of:

  One human skull and assorted bones

  Vegetable oil

  Two blue agama lizards

  One big toad

  One sea snake

  Albizzia

  Several Pods of Itching Pea,

  Two (Preferably Female) Puffer Fish

  Tarantulas,

  White tree frogs

  She placed the skull in a fire with Thunderstone and some blessed oil and burnt it until it was pitch black. Then she roasted the animal ingredients and grinded them with the uncooked plants. Finally, she added the human bone shavings.

  Abram and I looked upon her in horror as she carried out the gruesome task. She wasn’t disgusted at all. Her blue eyes were cheery and bright and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.

  “That’s all it is,” she said after she had finished. “Now, once the drivers and Madame LaPlante see that the slave is dead, the slave will be buried. After three days, I will go to the cemetery and unbury them. They will be alive because the potion will have worn off. I’ll lead them to the freedom tree and give them the supplies they need to reach my safe house out in the swamp. I’ll make sure there are no drivers or overseers around to interrupt our plans. When the time comes we’ll all go to New Orleans city together and you will be free men and women. You’ll get new names, a new identity, and no one can ever bother you again. Your days will be filled with nothing but peace and joy. Madame LaPlante won’t bother you. She’ll simply buy new slaves. She doesn’t even recognize your faces or know your names.”

  “But what if the Coup Poudre doesn’t work? What if something goes wrong? What if we get caught?” Abram asked question after question until I finally interrupted him.

  “Abram, have some faith. Nothing will go wrong if we work with Emilie. She’s already proven herself.”

  “Abram, you know this won’t work unless you agree to accept the Coup Poudre,” said Emilie sternly.

  “Alright,” said Abram finally agreeing. “I’ll go tell the others the good news.” He gave me a kiss before exiting the cabin.

  **

  Our plan was working. Every day one slave would accept the Coup Poudre and enter into a deathlike state. The drivers would see that the slave was gone and would bury them in the slave cemetery. On the third day, in the middle of the night, Emilie would go unbury them and lead them to the freedom tree. She insisted that she had to unbury the slave alone because it was too dangerous for us to accompany her to the cemetery every night. Abram and I agreed as we were too busy preparing the other slaves for their big day.

  Finally, the time had come for Abram and I to make our escape. Emilie had
agreed to let us take the Coup Poudre together.

  “Oh Abram,” I said. “I can’t believe that this is actually happening. Freedom is going to be ours. Can’t you taste it? I’ve always longed to live in the city, but I never thought it was ever possible. I never thought, freedom was a possibility before Emilie made me see the light.”

  Tears filled Abram’s eyes for the first time in his life. He had survived whippings and beatings, but never once had he shed a tear. “My sweet love, sweet love,” he said, as he held me. “I promise I will give you everything you have missed in this cruel suppressive world. Our new world will be full of possibility and opportunity. We will live out our lives in peace and…”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.” Emilie stood by our sides with the Coup Poudre. “Are you ready?”

  We nodded.

  “Do you agree to accept this Coup Poudre?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Yes,” Abram said.

  “Excellent.” Emilie passed the Coup Poudre over our wrists and the last thing I remember is the world going utterly dark.

  **

  As promised, three days later, my eyes opened. I wanted to scream when I realized I was buried. Before I could panic or let out a single scream, I heard Emilie’s voice. She was digging up my body. Pure ecstasy rushed through my entire body when I saw her face.

  The moonlight gave her an ethereal glow. Her brown curls shone and her wine colored satin dress complimented her complexion perfection.

  “You’re safe,” she said, as she helped me up from the ground.

  I wrapped my arms around her. She was my hero. My idol. I worshipped her as much as I worshipped Abram. “Thank you,” I said over and over again until she finally stopped me.

  “I told you it would work!” She was as excited as I was.

  “Collette.” Abram rushed towards me and wrapped me in his warm arms. “We have no time. The freedom tree is waiting.”

  Abram, Emilie, and I ran through the lush woods. We navigated vines, clumps of Spanish moss, and swatted away pesky mosquitoes until we finally reached a glorious oak at the edge of the swamp.

  “The freedom tree!” I glanced up at the magnificent tree. It seemed to extend right up to heaven. “Bon Dieu is good.”

  “Yes, he is.” Abram’s mouth was wide open as he touched the oak.

  “You need your strength,” said Emilie cutting off our moment of glory. “Here, eat this. It’s only a mixture or sweet potatoes and cane syrup, but it will help you regain your strength and fast.”

  Abram and I readily accepted the food as we were starving and still half-drained of life. As soon as the mixture entered my mouth, I felt dizzy. The oaks and Spanish moss began to swirl in a ghostly manner and my body became numb.

  “Collette, what is happening?” Abram asked.

  I glanced at him and saw that he too was distorted. His eyes were glazed over and his handsome face was distressed and full of fear.

  Emilie stood in front of me. She smiled that charming smile of hers and lightly stroked my cheek. “You’ve been such a good friend Collette,” she said. As her eyes peered into mine, they looked ethereal and as if they were made out of glass. “I know how much you adore me. I adore you too. That’s why I have chosen you and Abram and the others. You’re all such eager and willing to be slaves. I only choose the finest. After all, I do have a reputation to maintain.”

  I didn’t understand what she was saying. Slaves? No. Emilie had inspired us to think as free men and women. She had delivered us to freedom. Why was she referring to us as slaves? I looked at Abram, who rested against the freedom tree. He was unable to move.

  I wanted to scream, but my mouth was unable to move. The last thing I remember is Emilie’s delicate fingers stroking my lips. Her mouth against mine. She gave me the softest of kisses. She brushed her tongue against mine and caressed it for a minute before biting it off.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Zombies

  Darkwood Plantation- Present Day

  My eyes opened and I saw that I was Arelia again. Snakes hissed and frogs croaked while the other swamp animals sang along to the Moonlight Sonata, which was still playing in the main house. In fact, it had only gotten louder since we had been gone which wasn’t a good sign. God only knows what Emilie had in store for the guests.

  I stood beside the giant oak, the freedom tree. It was the exact tree that Collette, Abram, and the other slaves had longed to see. Its majestic branches caught fire and I spotted Ti Jean standing at the very top of the tree.

  “You’re responsible for the visions I saw in the Haitian forest and every other vision we’ve had of them. You’re speaking on their behalf, aren’t you? You wanted to show me how manipulative and cunning Emilie really is, didn’t you?”

  He nodded, as he leapt from the freedom tree and onto another oak. I watched as the freedom tree continued to burn and scorch. “No, please,” I begged. “You can’t let that tree burn. It’s too important. I’m willing to fight for it. I’m willing to fight on their behalf. I’m on your side. ”

  The freedom tree stopped burning. Ti Jean laughed wildly and threw his bottle into my hands. I caught it. “If I hadn’t shown you what she is capable of, you wouldn’t believe what you are about to see! But now you know her history, you will no longer be fooled by her veil.”

  “Where is she? Please just tell me.”

  “You know it doesn’t work like that. You’re going to meet her very shortly. Listen to Bade, don’t be fooled by wolves in sheep’s clothing. I will come for you when the time is right!” he screamed before vanishing into the flames and leaving me totally confused and panicked.

  She was near. I was finally going to meet the daughter of lies. I took a sip of rum and placed the bottle on the mushy earth.

  I took a moment to compose and logically replay what I had seen, but it was too much. It was worse than I had imagined. I shuddered at how easily Emilie had manipulated kind and trusting Collette and Abram as well as the other slaves. She tempted them with the notion of freedom and then turned around to only suppress them further and in a way that was much worse than what they had experienced at Darkwood. I was infuriated beyond belief at the injustice of it all.

  Emilie was building an army and she had started with poor Collette, Abram, and the other prized Darkwood slaves. To most people, the notion of a zombie is the stuff of cheap B rated movies, but I knew better. Zombies were real. The very notion of a zombie had been misrepresented by the media and Hollywood. They were portrayed as brain dead flesh eaters who were pretty much useless. Usually, they were represented as being a product of a chemical accident or some kind of radiation accident, but this was all vain imagination.

  In reality, zombies were soulless, re-animated corpses who were created by a powerful King or Queen. They looked normal and could pass as any other human, but their actions and moves were controlled by the King or Queen who had created them. By using Coup Poudre, burying the body and then reviving it three days later, the King or Queen was able to trap the ti bon ange (little good angel) of a person’s soul rendering them weak, devoid of spirit or any free will of their own. It wasn’t necessary to bite off the zombie’s tongue. I had never seen or heard anything like that before. I ventured a guess that Emilie had bitten off their tongues and kept them as a trophy of some sorts.

  “Queen.” Louis interrupted my thoughts as he emerged from the murky swamp water. His eyes were distraught and his expression was tight. I could tell he was in shock.

  “You were right,” I said. “She used them for her own purpose. To her, they are nothing more than tools. They still are.”

  “I told you. It’s pretty obvious why she killed my Mother; she was the only one who was a true Queen. She would have protected them. She wouldn’t have let any of that happen.”

  I knew he was right. If Marie had been alive she would have stopped her. “That’s why she used you as a tool. It was her way of getting rid of you. If you had stayed at Darkw
ood there was no way you would have let anything happen to those innocent souls.”

  He shook his head and tightened his lips. “We’ve got to stop her. And we have to do it now. That music hasn’t stopped. It’s only getting louder. We have to confront Viola. She’s the only suspect we have. If she doesn’t spill the beans I’m going to personally interrogate each and every one of those guests until someone breaks.”

  I nodded. “We have to lure her to the cemetery and get rid of her and then we can focus on freeing the others.” Maybe he had been right, the time for thinking and planning had vanished.

  Without a word Louis started to run towards the house and the music. I was about to run after him when a familiar and very distressed voice stopped me.

  Louis turned around. “Queen, what the hell? Run! We have work to do.”

  “I’ll be there in a second!” I shouted.

  “Fine!” He turned back around and continued to run towards the house.

  The voice continued to scream for help.

  “Damn it. I’m coming,” I said, as I ran towards the voice.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Not Again!

  Darkwood Plantation- Present Day

  “Where are you?” I pushed away the massive clumps of foliage that occupied the swamp and listened for the voice.

  “I’m sorry, Arelia. I wanted to wrestle an alligator or see a ghost, but I think something went wrong. I think Viola has turned into a ghost. She’s going to kill me. I’m so sorry! We should have listened to you. We should have went to bed and not messed with the spirits. Now, the spirits are messing with us and we can’t stop it.”

  What the hell. Not again. Viola or Emilie, you’re not going to fool me this time. “Ben. Where are you?” This was like déjà vu. It felt like a year ago. Hadn’t this kid learned anything?