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We transferred to another train in Virginia and I spent the rest of the trip drifting in and out of sleep. Jonas's cold nose against my cheek woke me up after the train had stopped. Outside the car window, the sun was starting to set. I slung the backpack over my shoulder and obediently held his leash as we left the car.

"Welcome to New Orleans," Jonas said.

The platform we stood on was concrete, much like the New York City platforms, but this one was above ground. A wood and metal roof stood over the platform held up by wooden columns. Yellow lines painted at the edge of the platform kept passengers from being too close to the incoming trains. We made our way towards the station interior along with the other train passengers. There weren't many. We passed through the doors and I was struck by how different this station was. Large squares of tan marble made up the floor, separated by strips of cream colored stone. The walls were black marble up to eight feet, but then gave way to a painted fresco that ran the length of each wall of the concourse. Underneath, various shops and service windows sat. The paintings apparently depicted a fairly abstract rendition of New Orleans history. Jonas led me to the other end of the concourse, through the milling crowd. I caught snippets of conversation from those around us, but I couldn't easily decipher what was being said. The accents were too thick. As we neared the exit, I caught a familiar looking face out of the corner of my eye. When I turned to look more closely, the face had disappeared into the throng of people. I felt a chill run down my spine despite the warm air that embraced us as we left the terminal.

A line of taxi cabs sat on the street outside. Jonas led me down the line, sniffing at each car until he found one that he was satisfied with. It was an older vehicle, driven by a large black man. Jonas leapt up into the back seat and I followed. The man in the driver's seat had broad shoulders and a thick jaw. He was bald and his brow sat low over his eyes, but not in a threatening way. Those eyes were brown. I assumed the rest of him was large, as his shoulder width hinted, but I couldn't tell from where I sat. He eyed us in the rear view mirror and when he saw Jonas, his face turned upward into a grin.

"Welcome back to Nawlins, Little Shifta," he said. "Who's this you've brought with you?"

I turned to Jonas who nodded at me to answer.

"I'm Malcolm," I said.

"And where am I taking you this evenin'?" the driver asked.

"Low... Court," Jonas managed to softly bark out.

"Absolutely, Little Shifta. Just sit tight. It can be a rough ride."

The cab drove away from the station as the bright red sun dipped below the horizon. The backpack in between Jonas and I jostled back and forth as the car moved. When darkness surrounded us and filled the back seat of the cab, the driver glanced at us in the rear view and gave a thumbs up. Jonas transformed in the seat next to me and began rooting around in the backpack for some clean clothes. It was too dark to see more than just vague outlines inside the cab. The only light came from the dashboard and the headlights of oncoming traffic. After a while of driving in silence, the cab driver spoke up again.

"So, what brings you back to town?" he asked as he looked at Jonas in the rearview.

"We need to see the scholars about a glamour," Jonas replied.

The cab driver nodded.

"You'll be needin' the Queen's permission for that," he said. "But lately, she ain't been seein' no one."

"Was there a succession?" Jonas asked.

"Nope. She's the same queen as when you left, Little Shifta."

"What happened?"

I gazed out of the window into the black of night as they talked. Their conversation was dull and I let my mind wander out of boredom. The trees we passed disappeared into the darkness one by one as we drove further from the city. Eventually, the cab driver slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. The cab was angled towards the trees, the headlights illuminating the gnarled branches. A light fog drifted between the trunks. Another car passed us and, when the driver was convinced it was out of sight, he flicked a switch on his dashboard. The light from the headlights became vibrantly purple and the trees in front of us vanished. In their place stood a tall, wooden gate with the words "Marekaj Nan Lespri" written on the arch. Woven dolls and figures made of twigs hung on the gate, wrapped in twine or ribbons. We silently drove through the arch, the purple headlights showing us a road that hadn't been there before.

"They call this the 'Swamp of Spirits'," Jonas told me.

The cab continued through the fog and trees until a wooden blockade appeared in front of us. The driver pulled the car up alongside the blockade and turned to face us. I looked out passed the wooden structure into the swirling fog beyond.

"This is as far as I go," he said with a grin. "Good luck seein' the Queen."

"Thanks for the ride, Henri," Jonas said.

"Any time, Little Shifta. When you're done with your business in the Court, we should catch up."

"I'll see if I can do that."

We left the car. Jonas pulled a flashlight out of the backpack and switched it on to light up the path beyond the barricade. The light was the same vibrant purple as Henri's headlights, and it seemed to clear the fog completely from the trees ahead. He lifted the backpack onto his shoulders and held out his hand to me. The air was cooler than it had been before the sun set, but moisture still hung so thick that you could almost drink it. I took Jonas's hand and we ducked under the barricade.

"Why does he call you that?" I asked.

The path was wide enough only for single-file travel, but Jonas kept his hand glued to mine as we made our way through the fog.

"You mean, 'Little Shifta'? It was a pet name given to me when I was much younger. It was Henri's great-grandfather who came up with the moniker actually."

I looked at him quizzically, even though he couldn't see it.

"Um... how old are you?" I asked.

He looked back at me for a moment, flashing a cheeky grin.

"One hundred and three."

I stopped myself from saying he didn't look it. Of course he wouldn't, being a shapeshifter. I suppose every creature, supernatural or not, is at least a little bit vain. In any case, his age just meant that he was even further out of my league than I had originally guessed. We stopped abruptly for a moment as Jonas lowered the beam of the flashlight to the path. He seemed to be looking for something. A thin line of dark, wispy mist stretched over the path, invisible outside of the purple light.

"We're about to cross over," Jonas said. "Don't let go of my hand. If we do get separated, stand perfectly still no matter what you see or hear. I will come back for you."

"What are we going into?" I asked.

"Spiritual folks down here call it 'Divize an Loa'," he said. "It literally means 'The Loa Divide.' It's a haven for mischievous spirits, so be on your guard. And do what I said until we make it to the other side."

I nodded. The bog beyond the line didn't look any different, but I was far from the "normal" world I lived in a short few days ago. Jonas hadn't led me astray since he revealed himself to me and I had no reason to doubt his warnings. I gripped his hand tighter as we stepped over the line.

***

"Malcolm, dinner's ready!" My mother called.

"Coming!" I replied.

I dropped my pencil onto the calculus book in front of me and hurried down stairs. My father was just sitting down as I entered the room. The dining room table was filled with food, as was common. A roasted and stuffed chicken sat in the center, surrounded by mashed potatoes, steamed carrots and broccoli, and buttered garlic bread. As I sat, my mother clucked her tongue at me.

"Mal, I've told you a hundred times to leave that old thing in your room," she said.

I looked down at the old teddy bear that was clenched tightly in my fist. My father's response to her was lost among the sound of whirling air around me. When I looked up again, my parents were replaced by floating orbs of ghostly blue light. The fog around me flew by like turbulent wind in a hurricane. The orbs soon drifted away into the swirling fog and the teddy bear I was holding violently pulled me forward.

***

I was yanked off balance as I came out of the divide and fell to the dirt path at Jonas's feet. He picked me up off of the ground and brushed off my clothes.

"Good lad," he said.

"Really?" I asked with more than a hint of annoyance in my voice. "Will-o'-wisps? Seriously?"

Jonas chuckled at my indignation.

"At least you're well read enough to know what they are."

He took my hand in his again and we resumed our trek through the foggy swamp. The bog on this side of the divide was much more alien than the one we had left. The muck had a greenish glow to it at the base of the trees and the fog itself had gained a red hue. The trees hung over us, gnarled and twisted, while their trunks split at the bottom and roots descended into the colored grime. Multi-colored mushrooms of all sizes could be seen stuck to the trees and through the mist. Some of them neared the height of the trees themselves. The occasional splashing noise in the darkness around us made me increasingly uneasy as I remembered tales of the Chupacabra and the Jersey Devil. After several more minutes of walking, we came to a collection of buildings. They looked relatively well kept despite being in the middle of a swamp. The wood supports that held each of them above the muck might as well have been brand new from the lack of rot on them. All manner of people were moving from building to building, talking among themselves in creole. One of the buildings had an open front that had been converted into a bar and several people were laughing as they sat on the wooden stools and drank. Jonas led me up the wooden stairs onto the first platform and switched off his flashlight. Most of the people there paid us no mind as we walked along the boardwalk. We passed a shop that advertised "gris-gris" where tiny woven dolls and other charms hung in the window. The rest of the buildings seemed to be residential; after all, there were enough people around us that they all couldn't have been visitors. It did make me wonder, however what kind of people would want to live outside of society like this.

The final building in front of us was a white, church-like structure. The wooden stairs leading up to it were also painted white and as we climbed them, I noticed that this building was the largest of them all. The doors were black and a single guard stood outside. He stepped in front of the door as we approached. His hair was black or dark brown. I couldn't tell in the semi-darkness. He was dressed in a white sport jacket with a black button down shirt underneath and black pants. His broad frame and the way he stood gave the impression of a policeman. He was chewing on the end of a slowly burning cigar that hung loosely between his caucasian lips. I realized that he was one of the very few number of white people we had seen in this place. In retrospect, I should have expected that. When he spoke, his speech was permeated with a thick Southern drawl.

"Howdy, Little Shifta," he said with a baritone voice that drifted over us like soothing heat in the cold and clammy bog air.

"Hello, Sam," Jonas replied. "Could you let us in to see the Queen?"

Sam chuckled as he tapped out the ashes on the end of his cigar and blew smoke out of the side of his mouth.

"You came at a pretty bad time. The Queen's been a shut in for a few months now."

"Has anyone seen her since this started?" Jonas asked.

"Of course," Sam said. "Most of them were like you, not human. I think I could let you in, but I don't know about this one."

"M-my name is Malcolm," I said.

Jonas put a hand on my shoulder.

"He's also not human."

Sam raised one of his thick, dark eyebrows and took the cigar from his mouth. He crouched down in front of me and stared into my eyes for a while as he took three agonizingly slow drags from the smoldering butt. I was suddenly struck by how god damned handsome he was. It had been difficult to make out his features in the low light from several feet away, but since he was now close enough to lock lips with, I found it difficult to keep my heart from fluttering right out of my chest. I saw his chest hair slightly spilling out from under his button shirt before I forced my eyes back upward. Sam's square jaw was covered in a moderate five-o-clock shadow and he ground his teeth together as he took each leisurely drag. His amber eyes seemed to look through me and into my soul. They were almost hypnotising. When those wonderful eyes glanced downward appraisingly at the rest of me, I couldn't stop an embarrassed blush from filling my cheeks. He glanced back up into my eyes for a moment, letting his mouth twist into an extremely attractive grin as he stood back up.

"I can tell you've been glamoured," Sam said. "Against your will?"

"A-apparently since I was born," I replied.

Sam shook his head in disappointment.

"I can't remove it myself," Jonas said.

Sam nodded as he looked out over the buildings behind us.

"I'll let you in, but I have to go with you. I'm sure you understand."

Jonas smiled at him.

"Of course, thanks, Sam."

Sam called to a black woman at the foot of the stairs and asked her to take his place. The large Southerner pushed open one of the black doors and motioned us inside with his head. Jonas and I quickly entered the dimly lit room beyond as Sam tossed the remains of his cigar into the swamp.

The room we had entered was lit with candles. It was wood, like the rest of the building, but the ceiling was much higher than seemed possible from the outside. Decorations I was beginning to recognize from literature about voodoo I had read were hanging everywhere in the room. An altar towards the back was covered with dolls, dried lizards, and various other trinkets. Jars filled with bat wings, goat eyeballs, and all manner of grisly ingredients sat on a wooden shelf behind the altar. Most of the candles in the room gave off normal, yellow light, but several produced blue, green, and purple flames. Jonas walked ahead of me and Sam followed closely behind. I jumped when one of his hands rested on my shoulder and guided me away from the center of the room. We went left, into a small side chamber where the wood on the walls became stone. The entrance to what I could only assume was a catacomb stood wide open before us.

"Wait here," Sam said.

He disappeared into the darkness of the staircase. Jonas turned toward me and smiled.

"Sam's a good man," he said. "I'm sure he'll convince the Queen to see us."

"Still, I'm pretty nervous," I said.

"I know."

After what seemed like ages, Sam and a large, voluptuous African woman came back up the stairs. She was dressed in a black dress with a matching, widebrimmed hat. A lace veil covered her features, but if I had to describe her, I would use the words eerily beautiful. On her hip, she carried a bag made out of some kind of leather and the contents jingled as she walked. When she saw me, she let out a gasp of concern.

"'Dis must be de chile'," she said in a thick creole accent.

"Presenting, Queen Cecilia Martinique," Sam said.

Cecilia held out her hand to me and when I took it, she led me into the altar room that we had just left. We stood in front of the altar and she knelt in front of me. I glanced nervously towards Jonas and he gave me a reassuring smile. Sam leaned against the wall near the door to the stone stairs. Cecilia grabbed my jaw and gently pulled my gaze back to her.

"Be still now," she said. "Let me see what we're dealing with."

She reached into her bag and pulled out one of the dried lizards. She waved it over me, but never once let the thing touch my skin. Afterward, she turned it over in her hand as if examining a medical report. She then held it over one of the yellow candle flames and I watched in amazement as the dead lizard erupted in bright pink fire and smoke.

"'Dis be a powerful glamour," she said. "I may not be able to remove it directly."

"What do you mean?" Jonas asked.

Cecilia didn't answer immediately. Instead she took a pair of scissors from her bag and snipped off a bit of my hair. She then grabbed one of the woven dolls from the altar and pinned my hair to it. She held out the doll to me. I was afraid to take it. Memories of the hideous effects voodoo dolls inflicted upon their victims from my books resurfaced in my brain. When Cecilia saw my hesitation, she clucked her tongue.

"Voodoo is for healin' chile'. Take it, please," she said.

I looked toward Jonas and he nodded toward me, smiling. I took the doll from her and looked down at the shoddy thing. It didn't look very intimidating. Cecilia suddenly sprinkled something on my head and when I looked up, she blew a bunch of pepper into my face. I sneezed. Sam snickered by the door as he watched. Cecilia shook her head after the odd ritual was complete.

"Keep de doll," she said. "I will need the help of a loup to remove 'dis glamour. 'Dis boy's true nature must be freed by another of his kind."

I didn't have time to wonder what she meant. A loud commotion suddenly came from outside. Cecilia stood and put her hand in her bag, moving in front of me as Jonas and Sam moved to face the door. Moments later it flew open and my blood froze in my veins. The monster from my childhood had found us. He stood in the doorway with that sickening grin on his face. The slumped body of Sam's guard was crumpled just outside of the door. Her chest split open in a grisly reminder of how my mother had died. People on the boardwalk below were running for their homes and several other corpses could be seen dismembered and oozing blood into the bog.

"I apologize for interrupting, your majesty, but that boy's life is forfeit," he said in a sickeningly condescending tone.

His lanky form was clothed in the same suit he wore when he had murdered my parents. The pencil thin moustache above his lip curled upward with his smile almost until it disappeared under his pointed nose. His piercing, grey eyes stared through the Queen directly at me and I felt that heavy, oppressive atmosphere begin to take hold. His hands dripped with the blood of his fresh victims. I had seen his face in the train station. He had been hunting us this whole time. Jonas grabbed one of the purple candles next to him and threw it at the monster. The thinner man batted it away and out the door before moving like lightning. Jonas's throat was in his bloody grip in an instant and he slammed the changeling's back into the floor. Sam charged, but the monster let go of Jonas long enough to grab the larger Southerner by the collar of his shirt, staining Sam's pristine white jacket crimson. He easily tossed the larger man out of the open doorway before he turned back to Jonas and resumed strangling him. Cecilia took my hand and began moving towards the side chamber, but, like a fool, I tore myself from her grip.

"No, chile'!" She said.

I didn't want to see Jonas die because of me. In my haste, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, a wooden chair, and brought it down as hard as I could on the monster's head. He didn't even flinch. He removed his hands from Jonas's throat and instead, grabbed mine. I could smell the coppery stench of blood and it lit a fire inside of my chest. Cecilia had vanished into the side room and Jonas was struggling too much from lack of air to help me. My heart began burning again as it had in Jonas's cave and the monster grinned that awful grin as he looked at my eyes.

"Why don't we go outside?" He said to me. "The moon is simply beautiful."

He planted a foot in my gut, sending me flying out of the door and onto my back on the boardwalk below. I landed near the body of a woman, covered in blood and missing the head. Bile rushed to the back of my throat and I coughed and rolled over, vomiting onto the wooden planks under me. The monster's shoes tapped against the boards as he practically danced towards me, enjoying the drawn out murder that played in his mind. My brain told me to run; to flee, but my legs wouldn't obey. I looked up to see the moon through the tops of the trees and in that instant I was paralyzed. The sight of the full orb sent shockwaves of pain through me and I collapsed again onto my back. The monster smiled down at me as he twirled around my spasming body.

"It's such a shame that your own body betrays you," he said. "You will always be your own worst enemy. Let me free you from your miserable fate."

I saw him lifting one of his hands. The blood-stained skin turned silver in the moonlight and his fingers merged together, forming the pointed edge of a blade. A roar from my left caught the monster's attention and a large black creature tackled him away from me. The agony in my chest increased to unbearable levels as the glorious, full moon filled my vision. My eyesight blurred at the edges and then faded to black.

***

I must confess, dear reader, that I don't remember what followed. I have been told that the monster was fought off. Jonas mentioned later that Sam had heroically come to my rescue. All I knew was that I didn't want to feel that pain again. The "glamour" that apparently locked my true nature away had caused my black out, or so they had said. I had to get rid of it. I would have done anything to be free from that agony.

***

I awoke in a bed and a room that I didn't recognize. It looked like a log cabin. There were various stuffed trophies of animals hanging on the walls. A throw rug sat on the floor in front of a stone fire place. A desk was against the wall nearby and on a large armchair hung a rifle and a brown, leather jacket. The open door to a bathroom was across the room and next to the desk. I needed to use it badly. I tried to sit up, but there was a heavy weight on my side. It was only then that I felt the large, fuzzy creature that was holding my body tightly in its grip.