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Part IV: The Rolling River
Chapter 3: Snake Eyes
They came at her out of the dark, rising like ghosts, whipping about the room like typhoons, groaning in her ears. They plucked at her conscience and assailed her dreams. They rippled up and down her body like a thousand writhing snakes. She swung at them in the dark, trying to peel them off of her skin, trying to separate reality from insanity, with little luck.
"You deceived us all!" Stone shouted at her, her eyes glowing in the darkness like a haunting demon. She raised her Claymore as if to strike, and the metal turned to flames in her hands, shooting out in all directions.
"It's not yours! None of it's yours! You'll see! You'll lose it all!" Ursula yelled, the animal claws of her necklace coming alive and reaching out to borrow into Emerald's skin.
"We were like sisters! Mistresses of the Sea! Bound together!" Jannie cried, her form submerging beneath the roiling waves of an angry sea.
"You betrayed me. You betrayed our friendship," came Roberto's deep voice. His sad eyes rose before her accusingly. "You said you loved me, but it was a lie. You turned your back on all of us. You betrayed us all, and now you will pay for it."
Laughing. Harsh, deep, penetrating. Was it Blackbeard? Was it Roberto, finally gone insane? Was it Widgit? If only it would stop. If only the voices would stop....
Emerald sat straight up in bed, her body soaked from sweat, the nightmare still palpable on her tongue. She swallowed hard, swung her feet to the floor and searched under her pillow for the love potion. Once it was safely in her hands, she leaned back on the bunk, in her stateroom aboard the El Diablo, and began to cry.
She didn't want to be cut off from her friends. She didn't want to force Roberto to love her. She didn't want to turn on Jannie. What had possessed her to do it? The ship? Widgit? Her need for love? The voices that had invaded her head while on the open sea? Perhaps there was a reason they called it the Devil's Triangle, she thought. Perhaps she was possessed by demons.
Jumping up, she quickly dressed and went in search of someone to talk to. But at three in the morning, the streets were empty, the houses were boarded up and no one would answer the door, except for Widgit, she knew. But she couldn't go there. Not again, not without the staff.
Emerald stood in the rain-soaked empty street, her shawl wrapped tightly around her, and tried to think. Of all the pirates aboard the Orb Nymph, who would listen to her? Who would not turn her back on her?
Then she remembered Wickeddoll.
Emerald hadn't seen Wickeddoll for sometime. The former ship's surgeon hadn't bothered to come aboard El Diablo, saying the very name gave her the creeps. She'd been forced to move into what passed for a brothel with a number of other former pirates, to avoid being captured and enslaved.
The brothel, itself, was a ruse, designed to protect the women from scrutiny. The only men who visited were either former mariners and soldiers from La Beltranista or a few of the men from Crow Island. The large and comfortable structure also became home to other women on the run, escaping abusive husbands, avoiding slavery, or simply seeking a life of independence, far from the control of men.
They had all gathered there: Aphrodite, Katrynka, LaFitz, Esse, Telamarine, Jennifer, Galadriel, Polaris, Suzy, Olga and Dotti. Sean, now Dotti's husband, stayed with them, the male presence necessary to keep the hounds of New Orleans at bay. He was joined by Juan, Gary and Oliver.
Summing up all the courage she could muster, Emerald went to the brothel and pounded on the door. It was a disheveled and sleepy-eyed Gary who answered it.
"Emerald? What do you want?" the young, black-haired man asked. He had the features of a boy, the wit of a man about town, and the eyes of someone much older.
"Gary, I need to see Wickeddoll. Now. Can I come in?" Emerald asked.
She was panicked. If he closed the door on her, she didn't know where she'd go next, or what she'd do.
He nodded and let her in. Lighting a gas lantern, he set it on a small table in the expansive foyer and told her to wait, then he went in search of Wickeddoll. By the time the sleeping ex-pirate appeared, Emerald had worked herself into a frenzy. Dragging her former compatriot into the kitchen, Wickeddoll made them both something to drink, adding a few drops of her own soothing recipe to hot tea, to calm Emerald's nerves.
"Okay," Wickeddoll said, drawing her shawl over her shoulders in the chilly room. "Start from the beginning."
As Emerald related everything that had happened to her, starting with the voices on the sea and her ability to feel Luis' thoughts when he believed Roberto was dead, up to her decision to win the El Diablo and her conspiracy with Widgit, Wickeddoll realized what was happening.
"What did you do with the love potion," Wickeddoll asked.
Emerald reached into her pocket and drew it out.
Opening the vial, Wickeddoll leaned out the window and scattered the contents to the four winds.
"There. That's where we start," she said. "And whatever else you do, never drink anything Widgit gives you again. Understand?"
Emerald nodded.
"Do you think Roberto knows you tricked him into lying with you?" Wickeddoll asked.
Emerald shook her head.
"I don't think so. He was pretty groggy."
"Good. At least that's one problem we won't have to fix," said her old friend. "Now, what about Rosalita. Do you believe Widgit? Can she really raise her body from the ashes and transfer her soul back into it?"
Emerald nodded.
"I think so. But that would mean giving her back the snake-eyed staff. I couldn't do that," Emerald said. "Who knows what she'd do with it?"
"I agree," said Wickeddoll. "But that shouldn't be your decision. That decision belongs to Rosalita. Do you have the staff?"
"Ursula has it locked away, but I can get it," Emerald said.
Wickeddoll nodded.
"Good. Tomorrow, after you've rested, we're going to pay a visit to Luis and Rosalita Stone. They need to know what Widgit can do. It's their choice. Then, we're going to see Roberto and Jannie, and you WILL apologize. Understand?"
Emerald nodded, suddenly exhausted as the tension lifted from her body.
"For now," Wickeddoll said, "let me find you a place to sleep. You've had enough visits from demons, tonight. You don't need to be back aboard the El Diablo!"
For the first time in days, Emerald smiled. She was back among friends, again, and that mattered to her more than anything -- and this time, she meant it!
__________
'From the Chronicles of the Orb Nymph, by Mistress LaFitz':
The next morning, Wickeddoll called a meeting of the involved parties. For hours they debated the pros and cons of letting Widgit do her magic. Rosalita was all for it, but Stone objected, and listening to the two of them argue with one voice was even stranger than usual.
The problem, it seemed, was that Stone was pregnant, and no one knew how the transfer would affect the unborn child. There was also the problem of Luis, himself. What would he do with two women? Who would he keep, and who would he leave behind? In the end, however,
Rosalita's pleas won out. She wanted her body back. She wanted to be a whole person, again, and not have to share every intimate thought, feeling and gesture with Stone. It was uncomfortable, at best, and down right embarrassing, at worst. If Widgit would assure them the baby would be unharmed, they could work out the rest of their problems.
As for Widgit, once the transfer happened, the snake-eyed staff had to be destroyed. There was no other way to prevent Widgit from gaining power over them, Once she realized she'd been deceived, the mariners were certain there would be no limit to her revenge.
It was left to Luis and Rosalita Stone to approach Widgit. They had to lure her back to the boat for the transfer, where the rest of the crew would be waiting. It was going to be tricky, but it was the only way.
Widgit was nobody's fool. They pleaded with her, begged her, cajoled her. They told her how Emerald had said Widgit could restore Rosalita's spirit to her body, and how much that meant to all of them. They promised her money. They promised to help her secure the staff. They lied through their teeth. And, in the end, Widgit agreed to the transfer, secretly pleased that she had made these mariners -- these pirates and sailors who had invaded her island, captured her and looted her stores -- come to her begging.
The stage was set. The characters assembled. The play opened.
Stone carefully placed the turquoise urn with Rosalita's ashes on the large table in the center of the casino. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was high overhead. Only the mariners and Widgit were present. The gangplank was pulled in so no stray passersby would stumble upon the proceedings.
Everyone stood in a circle around the room, surrounding Stone, Luis and Widgit. Ursula, one hand on the staff and the other on her long unused flintlock, waited. Her eyes were on Widgit, who appeared to have aged considerably since their last meeting. There was something unholy in the witch queen's eyes, something which set
Ursula on edge.
Emerald carefully took the staff from Ursula and carried it to Widgit, who smiled broadly. Just holding it made her look better. Then she indicated the shades should be drawn, until the room was darkened. She opened the urn and spread the ashes on the table, then covered them with a large blanket. Finally, she had Stone lie down next to them, and she began to chant.
"Oh, spirit of light,
Oh spirit of light,
Who shares this flesh
Through day and night;
The time has come
To take you home
And make what's wrong
Once again right.
Oh field of ash
From whence we arise,
Who waits on your spirit
Through day and night;
The time has come
To take new form
And make what's wrong
Once again right."
And so Widgit continued, burning her incense, praying her incantations, and waving her staff about the forms. Slowly, like the ripple of a baby's breath, the blanket began to move. It rose up, little by little, as if a breath of air suspended it. Higher and higher it went, until the folds began to take the shape of a woman, while the mariners held their breath and waited. Then the blanket stopped expanding, and the form lay still.
Widgit continued, her voice reaching a crescendo. Stone, who had remained still until now, began to moan and toss. Luis rushed to take her hand, but Widgit drove him away with the business end of her staff, warning him not to touch her.
Stone could feel Rosalita slipping away, edging out of her mind, at first, then down the base of her neck; slipping down her spine and through her heart, and finally settling in her gut, from where her spirit would arise. For a brief second, Stone could feel Rosalita examining the unborn child, passing her spirit hand over the baby as if in a blessing, then pulling gently away.
Finally, the ethereal shape emerged, rising from Stone's body and coiling around the staff. The wind whipped about the ship, and the river surged, tossing the boat from side to side. Everyone held onto something or someone, to keep from falling, as they waited and watched. As Widgit's voice receded, the spirit of Rosalita slipped under the blanket, as if it were going to bed, and a minute later, the blanket began to rise in a slow and calm rhythm.
Widgit straightened up, set the staff down on the floor, and began to chant again. No one knew what she was doing. They all thought it was part of the transfer of Rosalita's spirit. No one spoke, and no one moved. And all hell broke loose.
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