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then?” I asked, thinking about what little I knew about Voodoo.
    “Is your priest dangerous?” Chloe shot me a look that dared me to contradict her. “I didn’t think so. You assume Voodoo is dangerous because you don’t know it.”
    I thought about that and realized she was right. I didn’t know a thing about Voodoo other than what I might have seen in old B movies on late-night TV. I had a vague memory of one featuring a toothless old witch who controlled rotting zombies in order to kill and maim anyone who got in her way. “So set me straight,” I told her.
    She glanced at me suspiciously from beneath heavy lashes. “You really want to know?”
    “Sure.” If nothing else, I figured it might be entertaining to meet a real live Voodoo Queen—or at least as real as any of them could be.
    Chloe stopped suddenly at the mouth of the narrow alley that ran alongside the looming cathedral and considered me as we stood in the church’s humid shade. “It might be better if we let Mama Legba tell you.”

    I don’t know what I expected, exactly, from a Voodoo Queen’s lair, but it wasn’t what I found at Mama Legba’s. I certainly wasn’t expecting a warmly welcoming place decorated in bright colors perfectly suited to a Caribbean resort.
    Stepping through the coral-pink door and into Mama Legba’s shop was like stepping into a sunny day. Brilliant yellow paint covered the tin ceiling above us, cerulean blues washed the worn plaster walls, and the floor was a light oak worn almost white by time. It was a comfortable space that smelled of sage and the ghosts of pressed flowers. The teak shelves that lined the back wall were filled with large, clear jars, each holding a different dried herb. Bottles in brilliant jewel tones hung from the ceiling, making me feel like I’d stepped into some magical forest.
    “You late, Chloe-girl!” sounded from the hallway that led toward the back of the shop.
    “I’m sorry, Mama, but Piers showed up, and you know how I feel about that man.” Chloe laughed as she picked up one of the small, primitive cloth dolls that rested on a nearby shelf and ran her fingers along it. “When you gonna give me a love charm to make sure he’s always mine, Mama?”
    A woman appeared from the back hallway, looking irritated except for the beginnings of a smile that tugged at her mouth. “That ain’t never gonna happen, Chloe-girl. You bind someone, and you not talking love. You talking something else.” She walked over and tipped up Chloe’s chin. “You deserve love. Not that something else.”
    Chloe smiled and hugged her. “Damn straight, Mama. But can’t blame a girl for trying.”
    The woman laughed, a heady sound, but she stopped when she finally noticed me.
    Mama Legba looked like she was in her early sixties. She had a broad, smooth face and dark hair that was just beginning to go gray around the temples. It was pulled back into a tidy knot. Her face was more plump than angular, and she was thick through the waist. She might have been described as a sturdy woman, but no one could have called her fat. Though she wasn’t overly large, somehow the room felt almost too full with her presence, and her clear, dark eyes were sharp and focused on me.
    “And who’s this, Chloe-girl?”
    “Mama, this is Lucy. Her daddy’s the one that’s come to work on Le Ciel.”
    Mama nodded as though the news was old. “But why she here, child? I thought you came for a lesson today.”
    Chloe smiled. “I did, Mama, but I wanted Lucy to meet you. She don’t know all that much about Voodoo.”
    Mama Legba looked me over carefully, the same way someone might if they were trying to determine if a piece of fruit was rotten. “Maybe she don’t want to.”
    “No. I mean, yes. I do,” I stuttered. “I’d like to know more, that is.”
    “Why?”
    “Why not?” I shrugged.
    Mama Legba’s lips twitched. “Why not, indeed.” She thought about it for a second as she continued to study me, and