"And then he told me to come here before you open the mail."

Anna sat across from me, her face pale, her eyes bloodshot. She was trying to hide them behind her sunglasses, but I could see the strain in her face. She hadn't slept in days.

"He wants me to find someone for him," I said, taking a swig of coffee directly from the pot. "Someone who's dear to a follower of his."

Anna sighed, her shoulders slumping. "That's not good. What's his angle? Papa Legba is not known for his kindness."

"He's not known for his kindness," I agreed, putting the pot down. "But he's not known for his patience either. He wants me to find this person, and he wants me to do it fast."

"What do you think we should do?"

Anna's words hung in the air, heavy with worry. Charlaine was gone, vanished without a trace. Krabat was gone, too, so I guess it wasn't all bad.

"So, here's the deal," I said, leaning back in my chair. "I think that if I play along with the voodoo god, he'll help us get Charlaine back."

Anna's eyes narrowed. "He's playing us, Jam."

"Perhaps," I said, "but he's also the only one who knows where Charlaine is. And he's the only one who can get Krabat back. This was a long shot, a desperate gamble. But it was the only shot we have."

Anna sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Fine, but I'm not holding my breath."

The mayor pulled a little flask out of her desk drawer. Before I could say anything, she took a swig. She noticed the expression on my face and gave me a wry smile. "Relax, Jam. It's just pig's blood. Tastes like crap, but at least it's not addictive. It takes the edge off staying up in the daylight."

I shrugged. "As your sponsor, it's my job to worry. Old habits die hard, even after years."

She nodded, pointing at her fifty-year chip. "One day at a time."

Anna took another swig of the blood, grimaced, and put the flask back in her drawer. Taking another sip of coffee, I emptied the pot. I guess we all had our little vices.

"So, what do you make of Krabat's latest scheme?"

Anna leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowed. "Krabat's a victim, just like Charlaine."

I raised an eyebrow. "You think so? There aren't many mages left in the world. Fewer even with enough juice to teleport two folks at once."

"He's not one to mess with Voodoo. His magic's different, Jam. You know that."

She was not wrong. Krabat's magic was rooted in European tradition. Different schools don't mix. I still had my doubts. "He's got a lot of allies who might do his dirty work."

"He's got a lot of allies because he's been around for a long time, Jam. Not because he's evil."

Anna was on to something, though I didn't like to admit it. Krabat was a manipulator, a master of the dark arts, but he wasn't a fool. He wouldn't risk his neck in a direct abduction, he'd send a proxy. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about him.

"What about Legba then?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. "You think he's behind all this?"

Anna shrugged. "Who knows, Jam. He's a trickster, a god of crossroads. You can't always trust what he admits to."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"He didn't admit to anything anyhow," I countered. "He just didn't deny it. Also, the markings on the ground definitely looked like Voodoo to me."

"You're not exactly an expert on that," Anna said. "He could be playing a game, Jam. He's always playing a game."

I stared at the empty coffee pot. The god of crossroads. A trickster. A manipulator. Did I mention that religion gives me the heebie jeebies?

"Why would he task me to find someone though? Why not just do it himself?"

Anna's eyes narrowed. "Maybe he can't. Maybe there are things even a god can't do."

"Maybe he wants to see what I'll do," I said, my voice tight. "Maybe he wants to see if I'm worthy. Or maybe he's just getting a kick out of it."

My friend didn't answer. She just sat there, her eyes fixed on me, her expression unreadable.

"I don't like this, Anna. Don't like the way this is all playing out."

"Neither do I, Jam," she said, her voice soft. "In life, we have to play the hand we're dealt."

I noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the faint tremor in her hands. She had not slept since the killings started. We were both caught in a game we didn't understand, a game with stakes we couldn't afford to lose.

Silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the fog that rolled in from the bay every morning. Anna's words echoed in the room, a reminder of the weight of responsibility that rested on my shoulders. There were half a dozen letters on her desk, each one a potential clue, a potential danger.

"So, this guy sends you on a quest but doesn't give you any details?" Anna asked, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief. "No godly weapon or a magic compass that shows you the way? Not even a name?"

I nodded, my gaze fixed on the letters. "All he said was to come to City Hall before you opened your mail."

“Let’s get to it then.” Anna reached for a letter opener. The first letter was addressed in a neat, elegant script. It was from a local business owner, requesting a meeting to discuss a tax issue. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Nothing here,” I said.

“Maybe the next one.” Anna opened the next letter, her fingers trembling slightly. It was a thank-you note from a local charity for her recent donation.

“Damn it, Jam!” Anna muttered, throwing her hands up in frustration as she started ripping through the letters.

Suddenly, she stopped. She held up a single letter, standard business envelope, cream-colored and plain. No return address, just a single, ordinary stamp. The only thing out of the ordinary was that it had a wax seal. Beyond that, it looked utterly unremarkable, the kind of envelope that gets buried under a pile of bills and forgotten.

Anna held the letter up to the light, her eyes narrowed. "This is it, Jam. The first move."

I leaned back in my chair, my gaze fixed on her. "What's the seal?"

"Looks like a wolf," she said, her voice low. "Could be a dog, too."

Anna held the envelope close to the desk lamp, scrutinizing it from all angles. It appeared completely ordinary, even under the harsh light. With a sigh, she decided to just open it. As her finger pressed down on the seal, a faint click resonated from within the envelope. Before we could react, a muffled pop echoed through the office. A shimmering cloud of multicolored glitter erupted from the envelope, momentarily blinding us.

"What the…", I said, coughing a cloud of glitter out of my mouth.

Anna blinked rapidly, waving away the sparkling dust. "Glitter bomb?" she asked incredulously.

We looked back at the envelope, now lying split open on the desk. The interior was still plain, no hidden compartments, no scorching marks. Just harmless, sparkly chaos. But beneath the glitter, nestled in the folds of the envelope, lay a tiny, intricately carved wooden doll.

The doll was cold to the touch in my hand, yet the wood felt strangely alive beneath my fingers. On its smooth back, a single name was etched in a delicate script: Charlaine Meyers. A chill ran down my spine. Despite what Charlaine thought, I recognized voodoo when I saw it. I'd seen enough of it in Shadow Falls to know that it wasn't something to be trifled with.

I turned the doll over in my hands again. It was small, no bigger than my thumb, but it felt heavy, almost alive. What to do, I thought?

When I put the doll back on the table, it started to turn. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, it rotated about forty-five degrees to the left. I watched it, my breath catching in my throat. I rotated the doll back to its original position. It turned again, back to the same spot. "Guess there's our magic compass," I said, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

Charlaine grabbed an empty petri dish and laid the tiny doll inside of it. She got up and walked across the room, the doll spinning in the dish. It kept pointing in the same direction, like a home-made water compass. She handed the dish to me. "Go bring them back," she said.

"Bring who back?"

"Charlaine and Krabat. Your deputy's grandma is a mambo, rigth? A voodoo priestess? She must have arranged for some divine intervention, should any harm come to her family."

"Perks of her job? It's as good a theory as any," I said with a shrug.

I took the petri dish and headed out the door. The doll spun in the dish, pointing me towards the outskirts of town. Or maybe even further out, into the woods. Finding anyone out there was like hunting a needle in a haystack. Without the doll, I wouldn't have a prayer. Luckily, someone else already seemed to have done the praying on my behalf.