Beautiful Chaos (Caster Chronicles 3)

“I don’t even know what he did.”

The bokor’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t deterred. He pointed his staff at the remaining spirits one by one, and their broken forms jerked toward Macon. Ink-black holes opened up behind each of them, dragging the Unclaimed inside. Then the holes disappeared like the pop of fireworks.

One of the empty bottles slipped out of the bokor’s hand and dropped to the ground. I heard it crack against the dry earth. Macon opened his eyes and met the bokor’s, calmly. “As I said before, your services are no longer required. I suggest you return to your hole in the ground before I create one for you.”

The bokor opened a crude pouch and scooped a handful of the chalky white powder he had sprinkled on the ground around him. Amma backed away, raising the bottom of her dress so it didn’t drag across the powder. The bokor lifted his hand and blew the particles at Macon.

They blew through the air like ash. But before they reached Macon, another black hole opened and sucked them in. Macon rolled his cigar between his fingers. “Sir, and I use the term loosely, unless you have something more, I suggest you take your walking stick home.”

“Or what, Caster?”

“Or the next one will be for you.”

The bokor’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “This was a mistake, Ravenwood. The old woman owes me a debt, and she will pay it—in this life or the next. You should not have interfered.” He threw something to the ground, and smoke rose from the place where it hit. When the smoke cleared, he was gone.

“He can Travel?” That was impossible.

Macon walked toward us. “Parlor tricks, from a third-rate magician.”

John stared at Macon in awe. “How did you do whatever you just did? I knew you could create light, but what was that?”

“Patches of darkness. Holes in the universe, I suppose.” He answered. “It’s not a particularly pleasant business.”

“But you’re a Light Caster now. How can you create darkness?”

“I’m a Light Caster now, but I was an Incubus long before that. In some of us, both Light and Darkness exist. You should know that better than anyone, John.”

John was about to say something else, when Amma called out across the thin stretch of dirt between us. “Melchizedek Ravenwood! This is the last time I’m askin’ you to stay outta my affairs. You take care a your family, and I’ll see to mine! Ethan Wate, we’re leavin’ this minute!”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

Amma pointed at Macon with a venomous look in her eye. “This is your doin’! I will never forgive you for this, you hear me? Not today or tomorrow, or when I see you in hell for the sins we’ve both committed. For the one I’m about to commit.” Amma sprinkled something around her feet, creating a circle. The white crystals glittered like snowflakes. Salt.

“Amarie!” Macon called out to her, but his voice was gentle. He knew she was coming unhinged.

“Aunt Delilah, Uncle Abner, Aunt Ivy, Grandmamma Sulla. I’m in need a your intercession.” Amma stared up into the black sky. “You’re the blood a my blood, and I call you to help me fight the one whose threatenin’ what I love most.”

She was calling the Greats, trying to turn them on Macon. I felt the weight of it—her desperation, her madness, her love. But it was too tangled with the wrong things to be right. Only she couldn’t see it.

“They won’t come,” I whispered to Macon. “She tried to call them before, and they didn’t show.”

“Well, perhaps they lacked the proper motivation.” I followed Macon’s eyes up beyond the water tower, and I could see the figures looming above us in the moonlight. The Greats—Amma’s ancestors from the Otherworld. They had finally answered her.

Amma pointed at Macon. “He’s the one tryin’ to hurt my boy and take him outta this world. You stop him! Do what’s right!”

The Greats stared down at Macon, and for a second I held my breath. Sulla had strands of beads wrapped around her wrist, like a rosary from a religion all her own. Delilah and Ivy were at her sides, watching Macon.

But Uncle Abner was looking right at me, his eyes searching mine. They were huge and brown and full of questions. I wanted to answer them, but I wasn’t sure what he was asking.

He found the answers somehow, because he turned to Sulla and spoke to her in Gullah.

“Do what’s right!” Amma called out into the darkness.

The Greats looked at Amma and joined hands. Then they slowly turned their backs to her. They were doing what was right.

Amma let out a strangled scream and dropped to her knees. “No!”

The Greats were still holding hands, facing the moon, when they disappeared.