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The forbidden spells were always arduous to cast. Send Despair nearly killed Msia Yar’Adua. Now he only needed a few words and his atlas to make anyone in the world feel his pain. He flipped through the pages, pointed, said the words and imagined the sickness, the confusion, the tears.
Merad Prewitt sat on the metal chair, at metal table in windowless room.
“They’re making me wait in order to intimidate me,” she thought.
The door opened and two men entered.
“The first one will do the interrogating and the second one will run the recorder and make the other one look important.”
“We understand you call yourself a white witch…”
“I think I’d best tell you that I use that term to prevent prejudice from people with limited understanding. I try my best to be a good woman but good and evil are human concepts. The spirits I work with are neither good nor evil.”
“It is my belief and the belief of this department that magic is not real.”
“You and your department have the right to your beliefs. Nearly everyone who claims to have magic powers is a charlatan or mistaken. Some of them have special abilities but I have never met anyone else that can do what I do.”
“The Sudden Coma Pandemic has caused us to try unconventional methods. You came up on a list of paranormal claimants that we compiled by consulting illusionists that debunk that sort of thing. We asked for people who they’d investigated who did things they couldn’t explain. Then we contacted the people on the list and asked them what they thought about the others on the list.”
“That explains the strange phone survey that official-sounding woman insisted I take.”
“Nearly everyone we contacted was happy to run down everyone else on the list except for you. They all seemed to be scared of you.”
“I’ve never hurt anyone.”
“They all made that clear. It was more what they thought you might do if you wanted to cause harm.”
“And this is why I’m here rather than at home watching TV with my cats.”
“You’ve heard of the Sudden Coma Pandemic?”
“Of course, people all over the world are lapsing into comas.”
“We are treating it like an infectious disease except it’s not a normal infectious disease. Diseases need a vector. They start in one place and are borne by air or water or carried by their hosts. The SCI pops up arbitrarily anywhere in the world. Have you heard of Hassian Gbadamasi?”
“He is the leader of that small country in Africa who is trying to eliminate all foreign influence.
“Yes, he has collected together a large school of sangomas.”
“You don’t think they are using magic to cause the pandemic?”
“It’s a hypothesis we’re considering.”
Merad laughed softly, but very softly. These were serious men.
“You would like me to help you test your hypothesis.”
“We think you would want to help your country and the world.”
“First of all I did not appreciate being dragged from my home. If magic is being used it is because one of his sangomas has spirit powers. Most sangomas are no more magic than you are. I might be able to help you. I will need an atlas to focus my mind. And, oh yes, I will need to take off my clothes.”
The man with the recorder looked shocked.
The interrogator turned to him and said, “You know our orders. Get her an atlas.”
The man hurried from the room. Meanwhile Merad took off her sweater, jeans, shoes, socks, and underwear and put them on the chair. She stood there waiting for the man to get back with the atlas.
He came back with a heavy metal bound tome stamped CLASSIFIED. Merad took it and placed it open on the table. She found a map of Africa. She touched with her left index finger, said some words that were unintelligible to the two men and faded away.
Msia Yar”Adua was only slightly surprised when the strange naked white woman emerged out of the air in front of him while he was meditating in his alone room. Nothing like that had happened to him before but he had long known it was possible.
“Wait, sister,” he said, putting up his hand. He hurried from the room and went to his wife’s closet, the closet he hadn’t been able to open since her death. He opened it and took out a dashiki and brought it to the woman.
“Put this on. I know you can’t do the Far Journey with your clothes but we are a decent country and you must be covered.”
Merad pulled the garment over her head. It didn’t really fit. I was made for a woman that was taller and thinner than she was. The feeling of grief she felt as she wore it told her that it had belonged to someone the man who gave it to her had loved and lost.
“I feel honored by your trust,” she said.
“I am bound by an oath. I have never met a true spirit sister before. I am Msia Yar’Adua. What is your name and why have you come?”
“I am Merad Prewitt. You have been causing disease.”
Msia’s eyes flashed with anger. “There was a Gratitude Ceremony for sangomas. I was supposed to be an honored guest but I had one of my spirit sicknesses and had to stay in bed. Adia, my wife, and my four children went without me. They were standing in the center of the Gathering Ground while our chief, Hassian Gbadamasi, made a speech about how they were the family of his best sangoma. Everyone heard the buzzing in the sky. Adia was a proud, courageous woman. It took more than a noise to frighten her. She looked up at the flying machines. My children knew they were safe beside her. Then the drones opened fire. They were trying to assassinate our chief. He escaped unharmed. Several of his guards were killed. Many of my friends among the sangomas and their families were dead. Worst of all, Adia and all four of my children had been murdered.”
Tears rolled down Msia’s face. Merad almost said something but decided it would be better to let him continue.
“Adia was no threat to anyone. She was a good kind woman who loved me. My children were still young. Who knows what great men and women they could have become? When I was told what had happened I knew that my future was gone.”
“My chief came to me and said something had to be done. After much thought I cast the Send Despair.”
“You cast a forbidden spell.”
“Life has become meaningless suffering. Why should I care about the suffering of others or my final fate?”
“I can tell you are a good man. Part of you thinks that is true but another deeper part knows it is not. You have suffered cruelly and unjustly but you know that doesn’t allow you to be cruel and unjust. You know your chief is wrong; cutting your country off from the world will only cause hardship.”
“But he is my chief and I’m a loyal man. The assassins that sent those drones don’t want to help our country; they want our minerals. What did you do to stop them?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Other women in your country can use that excuse, but you are like me: if anyone knows something we can know it if we want.”
“That is true but you know I nor you can’t know everything. I am truly sorry. I’m sure your chief knows your abilities and will listen to your advice. You have seen I have powers. If I promise to help you any way I can, will you stop the pandemic?”
“I have always wanted a spirit sister or spirit brother. We may be the only two alive on the earth. We should work together, not against each other. I will awaken everyone whose comas I’ve caused and I will cause no more.”
“Some people have died.”
“I can’t do anything about that. The Resurrection spell is even more forbidden.”
Msia began to gesture and intone. Merad made different gestures and said different words. Merad had used the Opening spell many times to call her spirits into communion. This time her spirits were communicating with his spirits making a more powerful spell. Her face fell.
“You are in for a very hard time.”
“Reversing forbidden spells is nearly as dangerous as casting them.”
“I will stay with you and do all I can to protect you but you will have to take the risk.”
“I see now that is only right. Let’s begin as soon as we can.”
The forbidden spells were always arduous to cast. Send Despair nearly killed Msia Yar’Adua. Now he only needed a few words and his atlas to make anyone in the world feel his pain. He flipped through the pages, pointed, said the words and imagined the sickness, the confusion, the tears.
Merad Prewitt sat on the metal chair, at metal table in windowless room.
“They’re making me wait in order to intimidate me,” she thought.
The door opened and two men entered.
“The first one will do the interrogating and the second one will run the recorder and make the other one look important.”
“We understand you call yourself a white witch…”
“I think I’d best tell you that I use that term to prevent prejudice from people with limited understanding. I try my best to be a good woman but good and evil are human concepts. The spirits I work with are neither good nor evil.”
“It is my belief and the belief of this department that magic is not real.”
“You and your department have the right to your beliefs. Nearly everyone who claims to have magic powers is a charlatan or mistaken. Some of them have special abilities but I have never met anyone else that can do what I do.”
“The Sudden Coma Pandemic has caused us to try unconventional methods. You came up on a list of paranormal claimants that we compiled by consulting illusionists that debunk that sort of thing. We asked for people who they’d investigated who did things they couldn’t explain. Then we contacted the people on the list and asked them what they thought about the others on the list.”
“That explains the strange phone survey that official-sounding woman insisted I take.”
“Nearly everyone we contacted was happy to run down everyone else on the list except for you. They all seemed to be scared of you.”
“I’ve never hurt anyone.”
“They all made that clear. It was more what they thought you might do if you wanted to cause harm.”
“And this is why I’m here rather than at home watching TV with my cats.”
“You’ve heard of the Sudden Coma Pandemic?”
“Of course, people all over the world are lapsing into comas.”
“We are treating it like an infectious disease except it’s not a normal infectious disease. Diseases need a vector. They start in one place and are borne by air or water or carried by their hosts. The SCI pops up arbitrarily anywhere in the world. Have you heard of Hassian Gbadamasi?”
“He is the leader of that small country in Africa who is trying to eliminate all foreign influence.
“Yes, he has collected together a large school of sangomas.”
“You don’t think they are using magic to cause the pandemic?”
“It’s a hypothesis we’re considering.”
Merad laughed softly, but very softly. These were serious men.
“You would like me to help you test your hypothesis.”
“We think you would want to help your country and the world.”
“First of all I did not appreciate being dragged from my home. If magic is being used it is because one of his sangomas has spirit powers. Most sangomas are no more magic than you are. I might be able to help you. I will need an atlas to focus my mind. And, oh yes, I will need to take off my clothes.”
The man with the recorder looked shocked.
The interrogator turned to him and said, “You know our orders. Get her an atlas.”
The man hurried from the room. Meanwhile Merad took off her sweater, jeans, shoes, socks, and underwear and put them on the chair. She stood there waiting for the man to get back with the atlas.
He came back with a heavy metal bound tome stamped CLASSIFIED. Merad took it and placed it open on the table. She found a map of Africa. She touched with her left index finger, said some words that were unintelligible to the two men and faded away.
Msia Yar”Adua was only slightly surprised when the strange naked white woman emerged out of the air in front of him while he was meditating in his alone room. Nothing like that had happened to him before but he had long known it was possible.
“Wait, sister,” he said, putting up his hand. He hurried from the room and went to his wife’s closet, the closet he hadn’t been able to open since her death. He opened it and took out a dashiki and brought it to the woman.
“Put this on. I know you can’t do the Far Journey with your clothes but we are a decent country and you must be covered.”
Merad pulled the garment over her head. It didn’t really fit. I was made for a woman that was taller and thinner than she was. The feeling of grief she felt as she wore it told her that it had belonged to someone the man who gave it to her had loved and lost.
“I feel honored by your trust,” she said.
“I am bound by an oath. I have never met a true spirit sister before. I am Msia Yar’Adua. What is your name and why have you come?”
“I am Merad Prewitt. You have been causing disease.”
Msia’s eyes flashed with anger. “There was a Gratitude Ceremony for sangomas. I was supposed to be an honored guest but I had one of my spirit sicknesses and had to stay in bed. Adia, my wife, and my four children went without me. They were standing in the center of the Gathering Ground while our chief, Hassian Gbadamasi, made a speech about how they were the family of his best sangoma. Everyone heard the buzzing in the sky. Adia was a proud, courageous woman. It took more than a noise to frighten her. She looked up at the flying machines. My children knew they were safe beside her. Then the drones opened fire. They were trying to assassinate our chief. He escaped unharmed. Several of his guards were killed. Many of my friends among the sangomas and their families were dead. Worst of all, Adia and all four of my children had been murdered.”
Tears rolled down Msia’s face. Merad almost said something but decided it would be better to let him continue.
“Adia was no threat to anyone. She was a good kind woman who loved me. My children were still young. Who knows what great men and women they could have become? When I was told what had happened I knew that my future was gone.”
“My chief came to me and said something had to be done. After much thought I cast the Send Despair.”
“You cast a forbidden spell.”
“Life has become meaningless suffering. Why should I care about the suffering of others or my final fate?”
“I can tell you are a good man. Part of you thinks that is true but another deeper part knows it is not. You have suffered cruelly and unjustly but you know that doesn’t allow you to be cruel and unjust. You know your chief is wrong; cutting your country off from the world will only cause hardship.”
“But he is my chief and I’m a loyal man. The assassins that sent those drones don’t want to help our country; they want our minerals. What did you do to stop them?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Other women in your country can use that excuse, but you are like me: if anyone knows something we can know it if we want.”
“That is true but you know I nor you can’t know everything. I am truly sorry. I’m sure your chief knows your abilities and will listen to your advice. You have seen I have powers. If I promise to help you any way I can, will you stop the pandemic?”
“I have always wanted a spirit sister or spirit brother. We may be the only two alive on the earth. We should work together, not against each other. I will awaken everyone whose comas I’ve caused and I will cause no more.”
“Some people have died.”
“I can’t do anything about that. The Resurrection spell is even more forbidden.”
Msia began to gesture and intone. Merad made different gestures and said different words. Merad had used the Opening spell many times to call her spirits into communion. This time her spirits were communicating with his spirits making a more powerful spell. Her face fell.
“You are in for a very hard time.”
“Reversing forbidden spells is nearly as dangerous as casting them.”
“I will stay with you and do all I can to protect you but you will have to take the risk.”
“I see now that is only right. Let’s begin as soon as we can.”
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1 comment
Did you copy and paste this from other software? It repeats in the middle. Good story though. I like the magical disease conspiracy idea.
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