The Line

TWENTY-FOUR


I took a few steps toward the hospital, and the net of energy that surrounded it clung to me like a spider’s web. I could feel Jilo nearby, but the closer I got to the building, the farther away she felt. I found myself zigzagging back and forth in the parking lot. After a few minutes of wandering around, a glimmer caught my eye—a wave of aquamarine reflecting off the hospital’s exterior wall. I rushed over to it, hoping to find its source before it faded.

The glow intensified as I came closer, and I sensed that it was intended as a beacon to guide me to Jilo. I looked down and realized that the light was emanating from the entrance to a set of steps that led beneath the parking lot. The heavy sheet of metal that usually sealed the opening had been moved aside. I realized that Jilo must be hiding out in one of the yellow fever tunnels that had been dug under Savannah to hide the extent of the epidemic from the populace. As a child I had spent days exploring the hospital’s grounds and the cool tunnel that went under Drayton Street and into Forsyth Park. Somehow I had never noticed this entrance before. I took one last hungry look at the light of day and descended into Jilo’s magical gloaming.

The tunnel was impossibly long and lit in a way that made it seem less like a tunnel and more like a bridge through an eternal darkness. But that darkness was not empty; it was woven from the animated shadows that I’d first witnessed in Jilo’s haint blue chamber. I could sense an endless number of them. They appeared to be seamlessly united, but each had a hunger all its own. Instinct told me that their realm fell outside the boundary of protection created by spell that had been engraved on the Candler Oak. It was somehow both deeper and farther away. The darkness watched me with its black and countless eyes as I carried on, putting one foot before the other, wondering if Jilo’s magic was the only thing protecting me from a quick death.

There was no sense of having crossed a boundary or stepped through a doorway, but I suddenly found myself in Jilo’s haint blue room. With one step, I was in the tunnel, with the next, I was standing before her. My rational, non-magical mind protested that this room couldn’t be anywhere near Forsyth Park. After all, Cook’s grandfather had driven me up dirt roads to get to this room when Jilo had influenced him to abduct me. My witch knowledge explained that the room was not only a room; it was a hub that could open up onto any number of places.

“Took you long enough,” Jilo’s voice carried from the center of the room—a space that was at once as large as a football field and as small as our walk-in linen closet. “I guess you too busy for Jilo. How is yo’ love life anyway?” She chuckled. She sat there on her aquamarine throne, dressed in a color I might have called crimson if it had been a tad less vibrant. “Come closer, little girl,” she commanded. I stepped forward, but not because I had been compelled. Despite her show of power, I could sense that that the force within me was greater. I would never have this advantage again, so until sunrise tomorrow, Mother Jilo would have to answer to me for a change. “Pretty necklace you wearing, girl. Any chance you could get Jilo one like it?” She laughed.

“I don’t think so,” I responded.

She reached out and took the amulet into her hand to examine it, but a surge of electricity shot through her, leaving her gasping. “Damn, girl, Jilo wasn’t gonna try and take it; she just wanted to see. Jilo ain’t no fool. She ain’t never stole no witch’s power, and she sure ain’t going to start by stealing from a Taylor. The penalty for stealing power is lot steeper than Jilo willing to pay for a half-day token.” I stayed silent because I didn’t want her to realize I was not completely in control of the power. After a moment, Jilo composed herself and leaned back on her throne. “So, they done made you queen for a day. Whose idea was that?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “But the power is Oliver’s.”

Jilo smiled knowingly. “So he still with us then?”

“You did know about Grace,” I said. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Warn you? Warn you against my own blood? Jilo tried to protect you. She gave you what you needed to protect yourself. But Jilo ain’t doin’ a damn thing for the rest of yo’ family. That uncle of yours, my Grace’s blood is on his hands. Anything she done to him, he deserve. I wish to God she had killed that prissy little bastard,” she said and spat on the ground without a lick of self-consciousness. “And Grace just the beginning of what yo’ family done to Jilo’s. Our families got history, my girl. Real history. Jilo shouldn’t even waste her time on you. But you different from the rest of ’em, that why Jilo willing to help you. Fact is Jilo like you, more than she ever thought she could care for a Taylor. But don’t you never think Jilo loyalty don’t lie with her own blood.”

“Except when it’s to your own benefit to betray them. Oliver told me what happened after Grace died. I know you lied about your sister, and that Ginny gave you the source for the power you’ve been using. You took advantage of the situation with Grace to get something for yourself.”

Jilo’s face lit up with amusement. “You done caught Jilo, ain’t you,” she said, but then her smile flitted away. “?’Sides, my Grace was gone. There nothing Jilo could do about it.”

“But you didn’t kill your sister. She isn’t buried at your crossroads.”

“Jilo got three sisters. Two alive and one who died in Detroit five years back. Jilo wouldn’t harm a hair on they heads.”

“But you encouraged me to kill my sister!”

“Jilo just wanted to see if you capable of it. And for a short spell, you considered it. That why you got all sick and stumbled away from Jilo.”

I considered her words. I searched my heart, disgusted by the thought that she might be right. No, I realized, this was another one of her games; she was trying to throw me off. “No, Jilo. We both know that the thought never crossed my mind. But here’s something you should consider. What if I left here and went out to your crossroads? Dug up the crystal Ginny gave you and crushed it into dust?”

Anger flashed through Jilo’s eyes, but then she nearly doubled over with laughter. “Jilo lied about where the power from,” she gasped out. “But she done told you the truth when she said it almost spent. You go ahead and dig. You ain’t gonna find much there anymore. That why Jilo brought you here, ’cause she got a proposition for you.”

“I have no desire to make deals with you.”

“You just wait and hear Jilo out.” The old woman leaned forward on her seat and waved a warning finger at me. “You got power today. You feel it. You taste it. But we both know tomorrow it gonna be gone. You help Jilo, though, and she can set us both up with a source of power that will last longer than either of us will in this world.”

I knew I should stop her—I had come to break the deal I’d made with this devil, not to go into business with her. But I held back, I listened. The allure of having unlimited access to power was too hard to resist.

“Old Candler, here,” Jilo said, “it full of energy. You touched it, Jilo know. Jilo can smell it on you.”

“It’s full of misery. Someone should do something.”

“Someone done did something. Yo’ grandfather hisself the one who made the spell holding the energies in here.”

“But why would he have wanted to trap all this pain at Candler?”

“To keep it from wandering the streets of our fair city,” Jilo said and smiled like a cobra, her lips pulled back tightly, her eyes hard, dark, and hypnotic. “Oh, don’t you worry, missy. His motives were pure. After they closed the hospital, folk around town up and started disappearing. Little ones who’d be in they beds at sundown would be gone come sunrise. Your granddaddy tracked the things down to their home in Candler. When they closed the place, the shadows had gotten hungry and started hunting farther afield than they ever had before. Yo’ grandfather, he wove his net and walked away, never considering that he had built a pressure cooker without a safety valve. And Jilo tell you that it gonna blow, and it gonna blow soon. We be doing this town a favor by releasing the pressure little by little. Keep it from exploding and ripping the whole of Savannah clean apart.”

“Why do you need me? Why don’t you take all the energy for yourself?”

“They others who have tried, and Jilo learned from their mistakes. You think it by chance that the big tower built no more than a couple of blocks from Candler? They set up the tower where it is so that Candler’s energies could be broadcast throughout the whole damn world. But they still couldn’t get to the power, ’cause it locked by Taylor magic. It gonna take a real witch to unlock it. After all, Jilo ain’t no witch. I thought we done covered that.”

I remembered the spanking I had received after just thinking about undoing the spell. “I already tried,” I said, and Jilo’s face turned into a mask of pure panic.

“You what, you stupid girl?”

“I wanted to free the spirits trapped there, but I couldn’t. The magic is booby-trapped or something.”

Jilo calmed herself. “They no way you, armed with yo’ day pass to magic could even knock a chink into your grandfather’s wall. But your sister, when she get home, you get her to unlock it, just a little. You show her that keeping it locked up tight is dangerous, that it need to blow out a little of its steam. You get her to create the valve, and Jilo handle the rest. She will show you how to tap into the energy like a tree setting its roots into the ground. They will be plenty of power for the both of us. Jilo and you both set for life.”

I had come here to force her to break the spell she had placed on me, but now I had a bargaining tool. Of course I’d never let the old woman profit from the misery of the trapped souls inside Candler. I’d talk to Maisie all right, but only to get her to rectify the situation our grandfather had inadvertently created. Jilo didn’t have to know that.

“Break the spell. The one you placed on me, and I’ll talk to Maisie when she gets back.”

“Oh, my girl, breaking a love spell is no easy thing,” she said. “It better if we wait until Jilo has full access to her power again before she try.”

“You’re lying,” I said. “I could break it myself if I took a bit of your blood and mixed it with mine.”

Jilo rose up like an injured lioness, her head held high, her teeth exposed. “Take Jilo blood? You think you can just take Jilo blood?” She stepped away from her throne, spanning the distance between us until we stood practically nose to nose. “Oh, you is a Taylor all right. The second you get tanked up on yo’ uncle’s sweet juice you come pushing your way in, threatening Jilo. But you remember one thing, my girl. Tomorrow, this power of yours will be gone, and Jilo will be in charge again. So you stop and you consider real good before you start talking about taking anything off of Jilo.”

Deep down, I knew she was right. I had come here with the intention of using Oliver’s power to force my way if Jilo refused to cooperate. The real Mercy, the one I would have to wake up to tomorrow, knew it was wrong. I looked deep into Jilo’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry. And not because you’re going to have the upper hand again tomorrow. I’m sorry for threatening you, for even thinking about making you to do something against your will, just because for the moment I have the power to do so.”

Jilo looked back at me as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She took a few backward steps away from me. “God help this old woman, but Jilo do like you far more than she know she ought to.” She held her right hand up in the air, and a knife with a long and menacingly sharp blade appeared in front of it. “You understand what Jilo doing, she doin’ for your own good.” She swung the knife down quickly yet deftly, making a gash in her left palm. Then she pointed the knife, handle first, at me. “Go on, it your turn now.”

I reached out for the handle, bringing the blade against my own left palm. It hovered there; I was unable to bring its sharp edge to my skin. “You said you needed to mix yo’ blood with Jilo’s. You brave enough to face Jilo, you shouldn’t be scared of a little cut. I lowered the blade, slicing it into my palm. The pain was fiery and fierce, causing me to wince, but it soon faded, and I held out my palm out to Jilo. She grasped it tightly in her own, and our blood mingled, falling in heavy droplets to the earth. “Go on then, break the spell.”

I looked down at my heart, where I could still see the mottled green and red aura. I willed the spell to end, but nothing changed. The colors continued to envelop my heart—if anything, they seemed to glow even brighter. I pulled her hand nearer, placing our conjoined hands against my chest, staining my shirt and moistening the pendant with our combined blood.

Trust my instincts, Ellen had told me. And I was trusting them. I held our hands over my heart and visualized the colors fading, the spell losing its hold and evaporating. But though I sensed that I was doing the right thing, the colors stayed as vibrant as ever. I wondered if there were words I should say, a verbal spell to enhance my efforts. Jilo stood patiently still, not saying a word. My shirt was irrevocably stained, and I sensed that the cuts on our hands were coagulating, closing off.

“I don’t understand,” I finally said. “I sense that this should work. I should have been able to break the spell by mixing the blood of the one who set the spell with the blood of the one who requested it.”

Jilo calmly removed her hand from mine, and made a soft fist. When she opened it again, the wound was gone. “And that why Jilo let you try, ’cause she knew you never gonna believe her unless you try yo’self.”

“Believe what?” I asked, still feeling the pulse of pain in my own hand.

“Weeks before you showed up at Jilo’s crossroad, they was another who came to her in Colonial. That redheaded boy of yours.”

“Peter?” I asked.

“Yes. He came to Jilo. He said he was losing his pretty miss, and he was willing to do anything it took to keep that from happening. The spell was done before you ever set foot on Normandy Street, before you ever even had the idea of coming to Jilo.”

I stood there, feeling like the knife had gone straight through my heart instead of into crease of my palm. Jilo moved closer and placed her hand over my heart and closed her eyes, her lips moving wordlessly, as if in some silent prayer. As I looked on, the colors flooded away from me and into her hand. She closed her fingers around them, and when she opened her hand the spell was gone just as surely as the cut on her hand had vanished. “There, it revoked,” she said and moved heavily back toward her haint blue throne.

I should have thanked Jilo, but when my mouth opened, the words, “He betrayed me” spilled out. He had made love to me, knowing that Jilo’s spell was what brought me to his bed. I had been able to accept Jilo’s intervention when I’d thought the spell was my choice. Knowing that he had arranged for it made me feel violated.

“Open yo’ eyes, child! It ain’t just your man who betrayed you. Everyone, and I do mean every last one, of the folk you love, the ones you think love you, they all done betrayed you in one way or t’other. Truth is Jilo just might be the only one in this world you can trust.”

“I can’t believe that,” I said.

“Believe it, don’t believe it. It ain’t no never mind to Jilo. But sooner or later, you gonna come to believe it, and when you do, you gonna be wishing you had power of your own, if only to protect yo’self. You be smart. When yo’ sister get back to Savannah, when she all nice and settled in, you talk to her, and then you leave the rest up to Jilo.”

I said nothing. I simply clasped my hand around my necklace as if it were a magical life preserver. The power began to surge through with renewed force, gaining strength as my hunger for it grew, and although my anger remained, the pain I felt over what Peter had done instantly dulled. He was, after all, only a human.