fresh off the bus and already breaking stuff

 

There it was, just a few steps away, the wall she'd seen in a vision a week ago when she was still in Texas. For some reason as of yet unknown to her, the spirits had called her to the great magical barrier shielding the town of Sunnydale, making her stray off course from her original destination further south in L.A. She'd had to scratch together the cash for a ticket west in a hurry, cut short all her plans, abandon her friends... Who was she kidding, she hadn't plans or friends in Texas, she hadn't been there long enough to make any. Then again, she hadn't been there long enough to make any enemies, either, so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have left so soon.

 

Feeling rested, she walked up close to the wall and held her hand out to it, sensing the energy in it. The wall crackled and sparked, vibrated when she ran her hand a foot above it. Sent a shiver coursing down her spine and Marie whistled, marveling at it. She'd seen a lot of big magic, but this was something entirely different, totally new to her. Who ever done this was one astoundingly powerful sorcerer.

 

She almost hesitated at what she had to do. It wouldn't be the first time she'd been put to task at tearing down another's magic, but this was so much bigger than she was used to. Plus, it was such an impressive feat, she almost hated to do it.

 

A slight chill crept through her rib cage. Marie sighed and frowned. Only her grandmother sent her chills like that, and that meant don't do it. Don't even try it. Don't even look at it-- which simply wasn't an option. The job was blast a hole through the wall, tear it down if possible, but make a door through it at the least. The spirits had called her to this place to do that and she couldn't leave until she had.

 

Only thing for it was to set up and do what she'd been called for. She took one last glance at the wall, steeling herself for what had to be done, hoping she could pull it off. Marie unzipped her suitcase and removed a large knife, a ceramic urn tied up in cloth from a bright blue dress, a bottle of rum, a bowl made from the top part of some lucky person's skull, and a large bag of cornmeal. She plucked the leaves from the branch of a nearby tree and set them aside for later.

 

The bokor unwrapped the urn and opened the lid, dipping her thumb inside. "Sofiya, be with me in my work. See through my eyes, speak through my mouth, work through my hands," Thumbs covered in ash, she marked herself, one spot of ash over each eyelid and the third-eye chakra, a spot in the center of her lips, one at the crook of her throat, and smudged the center of each palm before replacing the lid on the urn that held her grandmother's ashes, tied it back up and put it away. Sofiya had been a powerful voodoo priestess, much stronger than Marie. Honor the ancestors and they treat you good, Marie's grandmother had always taught her, and it was true. Marie had been her favorite grandchild and Sofiya always helped her, even after death. 

 

She cut a small hole in one of the corners of the bag of cornmeal and began drawing, moving slowly so the line was clear. First she set to work on a large circle, crossed in the center by arms that extended beyond it's circumference. Strange marks topped each arm of the cross, chicken-scratch stars between them. The design looked like a cross between a compass and a key with some strange flourishes added. She filled in the central portion of the circle and then stood at the base of the sigil, the vever  she had drawn.

 

With a deep breath unscrewed the cap on the bottle of rum and took a long draught. "Nou vi Met Kalfou..." Marie took another swallow of rum. "Met Gran Chimen,  Wandile Jan Pye Poungwe. Makaya Penmba Salwe Soukris Pandjanmen Madjoman." She chanted as she took her knife and cut deep into the meat of her left hand. "Hear me, Kalfou, come to me."

 

Marie took the leaves she'd gathered and clutched them in her bleeding hand, soaking them. With her right, she carefully grabbed the cheese cake and opened the box. Delicately sliced strawberries decorated the top, Kalfou would like that. She set the dessert down in the center of the vever next to the booze and traced a circle around the food in her blood, marking the four compass points around it with one of the wet leaves, drawing x's over the off-center points.

 

It wasn't the offering she ought to be giving the Loa, but live chickens were hard to travel with long distance and she hadn't been able to find anywhere to buy one between the bus station and Sunnydale. She'd done the next best thing, the only thing she could think of; offer sweets to the Loa that he might be sweet to her.

 

It was risky, Kalfou could be violent and unpredictable if he wasn't pleased, but he had control of evil spirits and bad magic, and was one of the guardians of the crossroads... He also liked to destroy things. It made the Loa the natural spirit to call on for her work. She had worked with Kalfou before, as most bokor called on him when they worked dark magic. She hoped her previous deeds in his honor would be counted in her favor this time.

 

The air around her grew heavy and smelled of ozone, like a violent storm was imminent. Her skin crawled and prickled, bones felt electrified and her teeth chattered. The cornmeal vever lit up, Kalfou's sigil blazing bright orange against the night sky. She took the bowl made of human skull and let her blood drizzle out into it, mixing it with the left over cornmeal until it made a sticky, gritty red paste.