Dawnies, welcome to another episode of excerpts. For in order drafts, check me out on Wattpad! Don’t forget to make suggestions, and remember to take John Dufresne’s words to heart.
My eyes lower as my muscles stiffen, and butterflies fill me. Trembling as I turn the key to unlock Kalera’s door, waiting for Musfall to push it open. We both tiptoe inside without conversation. My attention on the woman I am passionately longing. She was right there and I lost her. I stood there and did nothing. Never will I do nothing again.
Musfall and I had been detained in Peru for eight weeks. It is unsettling, the thought of the unknown. By now, anything may have happened to her. All we both want is to get her back. Now has to be a time for action, not the dispiritedness we are combating.
Musfall had fallen so deeply into negative emotions that his magic was failing him. He had not meditated nor called on his powers since Machu Picchu. As a voodoo priest, he is considered a magic man of great influence in his family. He has followed in the footsteps of his great grandfather, his grandfather, and his father. In fact, his powers had not failed him since his training in Ghana began long ago.
His magic is in fact how he first met Kalera by way of her mother in the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum. Kalera was around ten years old at the time. Musfall had not long made his way to America and took a job in the gift shop.
Her mother was looking for healing herbs when approached and asked if she needed help, she shies away.
Musfall placed a book on the counter. “Ma’am, I can help you with those if you like.”
“That obvious huh?” She said.
“A little. Here you are, our best healing herb.” He replies.
“My mother will kill me if she finds out I am here. I am a Christian you know.” She responds.
“I totally understand.” He replies.
Turning to Kalera, “Who is this curious little one?”
“This is my youngest daughter Kalera. And she is curious.” She responds.
From that moment on Fredrika and Kalera stopped into the museum. Musfall became her favorite guide. Later he opened his own shop. And as Kalera grew older she would visit on her own. Until one day it had to come to an end.
Kalera’s stepfather found her at the shop and began to beat her. Musfall would often ask Fredrika about bruises and whelps, but she would never give a straight answer. He finally found out why. After calling the police, he intervened punching her stepfather in the face. He was lying on the floor refusing to get up when the police arrived. They took one look at Kalera and did not arrest Musfall, but took the stepfather to jail. The man did not leave quietly. He yelled about how he would be back with a lawyer and get Musfall deported.
Six months later, Fredrika had separated from her husband and began dating Musfall. Kalera’s brother and sister hated the idea. They missed their father regardless of what he had done. Kalera, however, embraced Musfall. She even taught him to write properly in English. In return, he taught her some bright magic as he called it.
Fredrika and Musfall dated for four years but never married. Every time he would ask, Fredrika would say no, so he decided to end the relationship. Not long after, Fredrika began hanging with a man named Mark. Mark was not of good character. He introduced her to heroin. Eventually, Hella and Gotfry, Kalera’s siblings were placed with their aunt by social services. Kalera moved in with her paternal grandmother who was very poor. Musfall would take her shopping and he kept food on the table. He pushed Kalera to finish high school with honors.
Musfall loved his Little Momma as he called her. He has been there since they met. Now is no different.
We begin tearing the house apart looking for any clues. After hours, nothing. Musfall decided it was time for him to try his magic and the Seer Stone.
Placing the Seer Stone in his right hand, raising it he called on the Bright Spirit of Ica. In his pocket were small beads or tokens of some kind. He spread them over the kitchen table and begins to beat as hitting a drum. His eyes roll back into his head as he begins to jolt.
“Here we go.” I thought.
He deliberately moves toward Kalera’s bedroom. Entering, he heads straight for a white container sitting next to the bed. I didn’t understand for we had already verified it, but I didn’t interrupt.
Musfall sits on the bed pointing to the container. I drag it to the middle of the room and dump all its contents again as he begins to come down from his trance. We pick up, shake, look over, open, and smell every item.
But we find nothing. The stone again glows brighter as Musfall moves toward Kalera’s bed a second time. We move the bed to find a piece of floorboard out of place. I run to the garage and grab a hammer. I return to find Musfall has already pried open the board with his hands.
Lying there are three petrified stones. Looking at one another in disbelief, we move to the living room.
Sliding my hand across the table, I look to Musfall.
“Are they what I think they are?”
“Yes.” He replies.
“Dragon eggs?” I ponder.
“How?” I ask.
“Only Xavgon could have laid them. Maybe before the spell.” He states.
“Why would he lay eggs and not tell Kalera? How could she have not known?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He replies.
From what she explained to me, we can’t touch them with our bare hands so I move to the garage finding two think pairs.
Upon walking back into the house, the Seer Stone begins to smoke, and the smoke moves towards the eggs. Musfall hovers the Seer Stone over the eggs. Placing my hand over the stone, he steps back. As Musfall had, I begin to convulse. I slowly move the stone left then right as in a trance. My pupils roll to the back of his head, and my teeth chatter as the stone moves from egg to egg. Feeling voltage, I fall straight back onto the floor.
“Ahh. My head feels as I was struck by a freight train.”
“What did you see?” Musfall ask.
“This stone is powerful. It could do damage in the wrong hands.” He replies.
“What did you see? Are they dragon eggs?” He asks.
“I can’t tell you because I don’t remember. I am sorry. This is your area of expertise, not mine.”
I can see the disappointment in his eyes, but we must carry on. Ica meant for us to find these eggs. Now, we must care for them but we can’t stay here.
Musfall finds case under the sink and layers it with towels and decorative hay. “It’s all I can find to keep them warm.”
I glare at them, before placing them inside. “Let’s get out of here.”
As we reach the door, smoke bombs hit the floor.
“Musfall, get down!” I scream as pellets are shot into the glass.
I cover the case as best I can, waiting for the turmoil to cease.
It was World War III, so I slitter towards Musfall as I see red.
He covers holes in his body. He is riddled with them.
“I got you.” I whisper.
“No. You get our queen. The eggs were meant for you. Get out of here. For my purpose has ended.” He cries.
Looking to the ceiling, he cries out in his native tongue. “Ubehlala ungikhulumela izinyembezi. Awungeke ungilahle. Futhi awunayo. Ungilethe kuleli. Ungilethe kuye ngesikhathi sesidingo. Ngiyabonga ngokunginika lesi sipho. Ngiyabonga uNkulunkulu wami!”
There was nothing more I could do for him, so I stayed as low as possible and made it to the back door. Amazingly, the back of the house was quiet. So I made my way to the car.
This didn’t seem right. Why would they cover all exits? I assume they are the police or military, but I can’t be sure. I search my pocket for the keys, feeling a hard object, I pull it out. It is the Seer Stone. Musfall must have slid it into my pocket.
I get into the car, start it, and speed off. I didn’t get a quarter of a mile before I was met by a blockage. I put the car in reverse down the street but was met with another. With their guns drawn, I am ordered out of the car.
A tall man approaches.
“Where do you think you’re going?”