“There,” Zoë points. “Off in the distance. You can see the light from the fire.”
She takes hold of my wrist and drags me behind her, toward the fire. As we get closer we can hear voices, chanting rhythmically. Finally, we reach a break in the heavy trees and the scene is in full view. Then it hits me—this is Zoë’s family. She has let go of my wrist and is standing there, mouth open, breathing heavily and staring at them. “Zoë?”
“Can they see us?” she asks, just above a whisper.
“I don’t think so. This is just a memory that the pendant is projecting.”
She walks slowly toward the circle. “Zoë—be careful,” I warn.
Completely ignoring me, she continues on. A woman and a man stand near the fire in the center of the circle. Based on what I have read in the journals, it is safe to assume the woman is Zoë’s grandmother, Hattie. I'm not sure who the man is though.
She stands behind one of the fallen logs that are arranged as seating, silently watching, soaking it all in. An angry and tortured guttural scream rustles the leaves on the tree branches. I scream for Zoë but she cannot hear me over the uproar.
I rush behind a tree trunk in an absurd attempt to hide myself. Zoë stands frozen in place as the seated witches stand and move together, grasping each other’s hands while forming a circle around the fire, their words becoming more frantic and fast paced.
The screams get closer every second and are soon accompanied by dangerously fast footsteps rustling through twigs and leaves. Before I realize what’s happening, the creature is flying past me, straight into the circle. It slows its pace dramatically and comes to a stop just next to Zoë. Bending its neck backwards and lifting its face to the sky, it shrieks like nothing I have ever heard. Zoë stumbles backward a few steps, nearly tripping over her own feet. The creature doesn’t even notice her.
I recognize it immediately as the alloquet. It stands a horrifying seven feet tall and has a large, muscular body that is covered in a light swathing of hair. Its tail is shockingly long and moves with great control. The alloquet scans each individual, as if deciding whom to attack first. His mouth hangs open, his breathing, labored, and his body, spattered with blood. Foreign white hairs cling to his crimson stained skin.
The coven remains bound together around the fire as if the creature isn’t even there. Hattie boldly walks directly up to the creature. She raises her arms in the air, opens her hands wide while shouting, “E kere eke nke ọchịchịrị, m na-ewetara gị na ikpere. M ejikwa gị ugbu a. Ị nweghị ike ya ebe a. Ị gaghị emerụ ubon emi. Ndụ gị bụ àjà na-akụziri gị na ezinụlọ gị na ọ bụ otú ahụ."
I immediately recognize the language as Igbo, having heard it for years at Zoë's house. The only word I can translate is family. Hattie must be casting a protection spell against one of the demons of the caligo for my family.
The alloquet falls to his knees, arching his back, his tail twitching wildly as if trying to break loose from the grip being held on it. Hattie rotates her hands. He bends forward, curling his body into a ball and cries out in pain. Hattie continues with the spell, her voice growing louder and more ominous. “Niile gị na ezinụlọ gị ga-erube isi n'iwu m.”
A blinding bolt of white-hot lightning flashes through the sky. Screams and screeches emerge from the forest in every direction. There are more of them. From the sound of it, many, many more.
The alloquet loses control of his body and collapses onto the ground. He lies on his side, breathing small, shallow breaths, grunting in anguish.
She twists her hands again and the alloquet turns over onto his back. He appears to be pinned to the ground by invisible hands. She fearlessly bends over, positioning herself directly over the center of its chest. Leaning in close to his face she mutters, “Ka m were obi gị na imagide mkpụrụ obi gị ka ụwa gị ọchịchịrị,” before plunging her hand into his ribcage and ripping his heart out of his body.
She turns away from him and walks toward the fire, holding his heart in both of her palms, arms outstretched, blood dripping steadily to the ground. “Nke a na àjà m na-eme aha nchebe udo n'ihi na mkpụrụ obi nke ndị