“Why?” Annalise asked aloud.
“It is not for you to ask…” Miranda told her.
“But, I’ve had this all my life.”
“And, that is why you must use it now…”
“But…”
“Do not argue, Annalise… Do as you have been told…”
Annalise stared at the necklace in her hand. It was a small half-coin suspended from a delicate gold chain. She fingered it gently, feeling the uneven edge where it had been cut like a puzzle piece. This was all she had of her true history. A gift from a mother she had never known. She had always imagined that somewhere the woman who had given birth to her was wearing the other half around her neck and thinking of the daughter she had given up.
There was a time in her life when she had felt nothing but animosity for that woman. But, in recent years her feelings had changed. She knew there had to have been a reason for her mother to make the choice she did, right or wrong. She wanted desperately to believe that she regretted that decision each and every day and was somewhere out there looking for her.
“But, my mother…” she objected again.
“Ezili is your mother, Annalise…”
“Yes, I know that, but…”
“Annalise!” Miranda’s voice scolded. “Do as you have been told!”
She jumped involuntarily at the harshness inside her head. Fear gripped her at the thought of punishment, but this time her defiance was not so easily dismissed.
“I can’t…” she muttered.
“You can, and you will…” Miranda instructed.
“No.”
The word came from her mouth as no more than a whisper, but she knew that didn’t matter. It took only a thought for Miranda to know.
She felt her muscles tense as the odd euphoria of possession began to overtake her. She tried to repeat the word, but nothing more than a gasp would exit her lips. She struggled against the cold embrace of the spirit, but her will had been broken long ago. It was only a moment before she felt herself being drawn into darkness as the Lwa entered her body.
As her vision tunneled, she watched her hands moving of their own accord, anointing the necklace with the dead man’s blood then placing it into a small glass bottle.
The last thing she remembered before disappearing into the void was the overpowering scent of cloves.