tension were racing to all points of her body. If someone said “Boo!” at that moment she would probably have heart failure on the spot.
A young woman, also a voodoo queen judging by her clothing, moved through the group collecting the colored tickets. Matt and Kerry handed her their purple ones. She paused, quickly perused them, then turned the tickets over.
Kerry noticed there were identical markings on the back, a tiny sign like a hand with three fingers raised. She touched her bracelet and found the charm of three bones. For some reason, the symbol seemed comforting.
The voodoo queen gave them a solemn smile and nodded as if in welcome. Her gaze flicked over them again before she continued to the man beside Matt.
Kerry let out a relieved breath, feeling she’d just passed some test.
“Whew,” Matt said sotto voce , evidently feeling the same. “This is going to be a very interesting evening.”
The drums stopped, and the ensuing silence was so profound it was nerve-racking. Even the breeze held its breath.
The old queen walked into the center of the clearing and paced around a fire pit, her eyes on the people seated around her in a circle. Some must be actual practitioners of the voodoo art, Kerry decided as they nodded to the woman.
With a sudden swoop, the old woman bent over the fire pit. Flames, several feet high, leapt skyward from the logs.
A collective “ohh” went up from the onlookers.
The flames settled into a steady pattern, then danced as the breeze picked up again.
The lone drum started its beat. Kerry instinctively moved closer to Matt. He put his arm behind her back in a gesture of support rather than intimacy. She let herself lean into him, just a little.
The ancient voodoo queen began to sway. She clapped her hands very softly to the drum’s rhythm. Another drum joined in, one with a different voice that seemed to harmonize with the first.
The crone tapped her feet on the hard-packed sand. When she twirled around, Kerry saw she wore no shoes, but a circle of bells surrounded her ankles and continued down her arch, anchored by a string around her toe.
Kerry recalled seeing something similar in the tourist shops during her afternoon explorations. The stringwas stretchy and some of the “shoes” had plastic flowers or ribbons instead of bells for decoration.
The ceremony continued with songs and dances that were sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes wild and sensuous.
And the drums, always the drums.
Kerry found herself clapping and swaying with the crowd and Matt joined in, too, but more slowly than she did, as if he considered each action before he did it.
At one point the old queen and her retinue of young novices sprinkled exotic-smelling flower petals over the audience, an obvious blessing, and Kerry was touched by the beauty of the ceremony.
Then there were the moments of wild ecstasy when the women moved like spirits possessed by the music of tambourines and chimes and the ever-present drumbeat.
The old queen was magnificent, weaving her way among the younger women, as agile as any of them as she leaped high as the flames or swayed like a wheat stalk in the breeze. She came close to Kerry and Matt and twirled the striped cape above her head, the stirred air wafting over their faces.
A strange excitement rushed through Kerry. She was intensely aware of Matt beside her. She felt his warmth as well as that from the fire. When she gazed into the fathomless eyes of the queen, knowledge flashed between them.
Kerry and Matt would be lovers.
It was fated. Kerry knew that with an unshakable certainty, and she also knew this magic wouldn’t harm her.
Sorrow sifted through her as she thought back to the previous day. Patti should have been here, leaping and swaying and whirling to the magic rhythm.
Kerry resolved to ask the old woman if they could do anything for Patti, for Queen Patrice, to assure she found peace in her death.
A large, warm hand covered hers. She glanced up
A young woman, also a voodoo queen judging by her clothing, moved through the group collecting the colored tickets. Matt and Kerry handed her their purple ones. She paused, quickly perused them, then turned the tickets over.
Kerry noticed there were identical markings on the back, a tiny sign like a hand with three fingers raised. She touched her bracelet and found the charm of three bones. For some reason, the symbol seemed comforting.
The voodoo queen gave them a solemn smile and nodded as if in welcome. Her gaze flicked over them again before she continued to the man beside Matt.
Kerry let out a relieved breath, feeling she’d just passed some test.
“Whew,” Matt said sotto voce , evidently feeling the same. “This is going to be a very interesting evening.”
The drums stopped, and the ensuing silence was so profound it was nerve-racking. Even the breeze held its breath.
The old queen walked into the center of the clearing and paced around a fire pit, her eyes on the people seated around her in a circle. Some must be actual practitioners of the voodoo art, Kerry decided as they nodded to the woman.
With a sudden swoop, the old woman bent over the fire pit. Flames, several feet high, leapt skyward from the logs.
A collective “ohh” went up from the onlookers.
The flames settled into a steady pattern, then danced as the breeze picked up again.
The lone drum started its beat. Kerry instinctively moved closer to Matt. He put his arm behind her back in a gesture of support rather than intimacy. She let herself lean into him, just a little.
The ancient voodoo queen began to sway. She clapped her hands very softly to the drum’s rhythm. Another drum joined in, one with a different voice that seemed to harmonize with the first.
The crone tapped her feet on the hard-packed sand. When she twirled around, Kerry saw she wore no shoes, but a circle of bells surrounded her ankles and continued down her arch, anchored by a string around her toe.
Kerry recalled seeing something similar in the tourist shops during her afternoon explorations. The stringwas stretchy and some of the “shoes” had plastic flowers or ribbons instead of bells for decoration.
The ceremony continued with songs and dances that were sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes wild and sensuous.
And the drums, always the drums.
Kerry found herself clapping and swaying with the crowd and Matt joined in, too, but more slowly than she did, as if he considered each action before he did it.
At one point the old queen and her retinue of young novices sprinkled exotic-smelling flower petals over the audience, an obvious blessing, and Kerry was touched by the beauty of the ceremony.
Then there were the moments of wild ecstasy when the women moved like spirits possessed by the music of tambourines and chimes and the ever-present drumbeat.
The old queen was magnificent, weaving her way among the younger women, as agile as any of them as she leaped high as the flames or swayed like a wheat stalk in the breeze. She came close to Kerry and Matt and twirled the striped cape above her head, the stirred air wafting over their faces.
A strange excitement rushed through Kerry. She was intensely aware of Matt beside her. She felt his warmth as well as that from the fire. When she gazed into the fathomless eyes of the queen, knowledge flashed between them.
Kerry and Matt would be lovers.
It was fated. Kerry knew that with an unshakable certainty, and she also knew this magic wouldn’t harm her.
Sorrow sifted through her as she thought back to the previous day. Patti should have been here, leaping and swaying and whirling to the magic rhythm.
Kerry resolved to ask the old woman if they could do anything for Patti, for Queen Patrice, to assure she found peace in her death.
A large, warm hand covered hers. She glanced up
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