“And I couldn’t go through it at all.”

“But you said you didn’t understand why.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“Whatever the Wheel of Fate is, I think it has something to do with you, not me.”

I let her believe it, but I knew better. I could still hear Amma’s voice, echoing in my head.

The Wheel of Fate crushes us all.

12.06

Fractured Soul

Ethan!”

Lena was screaming, and I couldn’t find her. I tried to run, but I kept falling because the ground was moving beneath my feet. The pavement on Main was shaking so hard that dirt and rocks were flying up into my eyes. The road rolled on, and it felt like I was standing on the edge of two tectonic plates battling it out.

I stood there, one foot on each plate, while the world shook and the chasm between the plates widened. The crack was so big I knew I was going to fall. And it was getting bigger.

It was only a matter of time.

“Ethan!” I heard Lena’s voice, but I couldn’t see her.

I looked through the crack and saw her—far below me.

And then I was falling….

My floor hit me harder than usual.

Lena!

I heard her voice, groggy and half asleep.

I’m here. It was just a dream.

I flipped over onto my back, trying to catch my breath. I balled up the sheet and threw it across the room.

Everything’s fine.

I knew I didn’t sound very convincing.

Seriously, Ethan. Is your head okay?

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

My head’s fine. It’s the Earth’s tectonic plates I’m worried about.

She didn’t answer for a moment.

And you’re worried about me.

Yeah, L. And you.

She knew when I woke up screaming her name that she had suffered another violent, frightening end in one of my dreams we hadn’t shared since the Seventeenth Moon. And the dreams were getting worse, not better.

It’s because of everything we went through last summer, Ethan. I’m still reliving it, too.

But I didn’t tell her it was happening to me every night, or that she wasn’t the one in danger this time. I didn’t think she wanted to know how much reliving I was doing. I didn’t want her to feel like it was getting in the way of living.

There was something else getting in the way of living, at least for me. The answer to the question that Amma wouldn’t give me and I couldn’t figure out. But I was pretty sure there was someone else who knew, and I finally had enough guts to go see him.

The only question left was whether or not I could get him to tell me.

It was pitch-black outside as I pulled the front door closed behind me. When I turned around, Lucille was sitting on the porch, watching me.

“Didn’t get enough of the Tunnels last time?” Lucille cocked her head to one side, her standard answer. “Let’s get going.”

I heard a rip. Actually, it sounded more like a nasty tear.

I spun around. I wasn’t ready for another visit from Abraham. But this time it wasn’t him—far from it.

Link was lying on his back, caught in the bushes. “Man, this Travelin’ thing takes some serious practice.” He climbed out of the bushes and brushed himself off. “Where we headed?”

“How did you know I was going somewhere? Were you fishing around in my head?” If he was, he was dead.

“I told you before, I don’t wanna mess around in that Temple a Doom.” He brushed off his Iron Maiden T-shirt. “I don’t sleep, remember? I was wanderin’ around outside, and I heard you sneakin’ downstairs. It’s one of my superpowers. So, where are we goin’?”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell him. But the truth was I didn’t want to go alone. “New Orleans.”

“You don’t know anybody in—” Link shook his head. “Dude, why does it always have to be graveyards and crypts with you? Can’t we hang out somewhere that isn’t full a dead bodies?”

Another question I couldn’t answer.

The tomb of voodoo queen Marie Laveau was exactly the same. I stared at the Xs carved into the door, and wondered if we should leave our own—in case we never came back out. But there was no time to think about it, because Link had the door open in seconds and we were inside.

The rotted, crooked stairs were still there, leading down into the darkness. So were the smoke and the putrid smell that clung to your skin, even after you took a shower.

Link coughed. “Licorice and gasoline. That’s nasty.”

“Shh. Be quiet.”

We reached the base of the stairs, and I could see the workshop, or whatever this awful place was called. There was a dim light coming from inside, illuminating the jars and bottles. My skin crawled at the sight of reptiles and tiny mice frantically trying to escape.

Lucille hid behind my leg as if she was afraid she might end up in one of those jars.

“How do we know if he’s home?” Link whispered.

Before I could answer, a voice rose from behind us. “I am always home, in one form or another.”

I recognized the bokor’s gravelly voice and heavy accent. He looked even more dangerous up close. His skin was unwrinkled, but scars marred his face. They looked like scratches and puncture wounds, as if he’d been attacked by a creature that wasn’t in one of those jars. His long braids were ratty, and I could see tiny objects tied into them. Metal symbols and charms, bits of bone and beads laced so tightly that they’d become part of the hair itself. He was holding his snakeskin staff.