Laveau Devaroux's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Laveau had the name now. Celestine. It bought her nothing. To break the curse, she had to know how the vow was broken, and no summoning had given her that. She stood in her parlor under Celestine's portrait, hunting for a thread. In an old trunk she found it: a bundle of letters bound in scraps of cloth, bristling with pins like a wounded animal. Her hands shook as she pried at the wax seals. The letters were burned to soot inside. Someone had gutted them long ago and sealed the ash back up. Laveau sat with the ruined bundle in her lap. The details were gone. Her jaw tightened. Her pet stirred in the corner, the great jeweled boa lifting its feathered head from its coils. It hissed at the window. Then Laveau heard the gate rattle. A woman stood at the iron bars, gray hair falling past her knees, her long gown dark with swamp mud. Freya Desrosiers. The rival Laveau had spent thirty years undercutting at every crossroads. Laveau's stomach dropped. "Put your dead relatives away," Freya called. "You've been digging up mine too." Laveau unlatched the gate but did not step back. "You know something about Celestine." "My line watched yours." Freya's mouth curved. "Celestine made a vow to a spirit of the marsh. Firstborn daughter promised in service, generation after generation. She broke it the day she married into money and refused to give her girl up." Freya spread her hands. "The spirit took the girl anyway. And every firstborn since." Laveau's breath caught. The broken vow. The exact wound. "How do you know the words?" "My great-grandmother stood witness at the swamp altar." Freya reached into her gown and drew out a single pin, identical to those in the ruined bundle. "I have the vow copied. Every line." Laveau wanted to snatch it. She kept her hands still. "Name your price." "Your manor," Freya said. "When the curse lifts, you leave. This district is mine." Laveau looked back at the portrait, at the trunk, at the boa coiled tight. Simone's grave was still fresh. She had sworn on it. She turned back to Freya and held out her hand. "Done." Freya pressed the copied vow into her palm. The words were there, dense and exact. Laveau read the terms of Celestine's promise and the shape of the ritual that could undo it. She finally held the thing she needed. Then a shriek split the night beyond the gate. Something crashed through the reeds. An armored shape burst into the lantern light, gator-backed, rooster-headed, its eyes green and hungry. The guardian of Celestine's name had found the manor. Freya backed away fast. "That's your problem now," she said, and vanished into the dark. Laveau stood alone at the open gate, the vow in one hand, the beast closing in.