Introduction

Deep in the swamps of southern Louisiana, Mariutza’s beloved grandfather whispers his ominous last request--and dies in her arms. All her life he's looked after her. He's trained her in the old Gypsy ways and kept her hidden away in the swamp. But now… The Badness has found her. Mari’s only hope? Journey to the city to find Jaazaniah the Prophet, the legendary hero of grandfather’s bedtime stories. But how can a girl who has never left the swamp survive the terrifying world of men long enough to find a savior who may not even exist? In the heart of New Orleans, musician Jazz Rechabson runs for his life. Everyone is out to get him. Soldiers, government agents, mysterious hooded men. What do they want? And who is the beautiful young woman who haunts his waking dreams? Can strangers from different worlds come together in time to unmask their common enemy? And even if they could understand what is happening, will they be able to stand?

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Excerpt

Chapter 1

Mariutza

Smooth moonlight, soft and timid as a sleeping babe’s breath, seeped through the forest canopy, painting Old Man Oak’s mossy beard with twisting ribbons of silver and shadow. The swamp folks were full awake now. All stoked up with joy, singing hallelujah for the tolerable coolness of another summer night. Bachelor bullfrogs barking out their steady bass against a piercing cicada threnody. Crickets and peepers and creepers hollering their praise full on top of one another, singing out to the Lord for the blessings He hath made.

It was a glorious song, filled with deep magic and considerations of awesome wonder. It made a body thankful to be alive. Squish-squashing through soft cool mud. Hop-scotching dead wood and fresh fallen branches. Pausing to look out across dark star-dusted waters where the proud Cypress sisters, skirts hitched high above dark boney knees, waded through reflections of ringing light. Swaying and sighing to the night music. The sounds of blessed freedom and sweet never-ending joy.

* * *

Freedom. Mari let loose a wistful sigh and felt her way through the pressing darkness. Purodad would be getting home soon. He was going to be mad as a dirt dauber when he discovered she’d run away.

But she couldn’t just sit there and let him lock her up. She was a proper lady now, a full-grown woman—Miss Caralee had said so herself. Proper ladies didn’t hold to being locked up in diddlecars. Proper ladies had work to do. Washing and cooking. Tending to the nets.

Gradually, step by step, the forest opened out into a moonlit clearing. Mari skirted around a sun-burned vegetable garden and ran for the cover of the gnarled old oak tree that served as gateway to Caralee’s cook-yard. Miss Caralee would take her side. Purodad was getting superstitious in his old age. She wouldn’t stand for any more of his nonsense. That’s what she called it. Other nonsense.

“Yoo-hoo! Miss Caralee?” She called out from behind the broad tree trunk. “Don’t shoot. It’s me, Mariutza.”

She peeked out at a ramshackle hut pieced together with drift-boards from the storm. “I’m coming out now. It’s me.” Stepping out from behind the tree, she hesitated. The cook fire wasn’t burning. There should be candlelight shining through the windows. Caralee couldn’t be off visiting. It was a long time past dark. “Here I am. Walking to the door.”

A scrape sounded from inside the shack. The clank of metal against metal.

“Don’t shoot. It’s me!” Mari put some wind behind her words. Miss Caralee’s eyes were sharp as stickers, but her ears were starting to get old.

“Lands, Chile. What you doin’ out the door? Night’s most black as soot.” That strong voice, dry and weathered as sun-hardened driftwood, called out through the screen. “Don’t just stand there gawping like a catfish. Come on!”

Mari ran up to the shack and sat down on the smooth old stump just outside the narrow door.

The screen flared bright as a match struck against the door jamb. Hollow cheeks and soft dark eyes. The flame flickered and steadied as it took hold of a tallow candle. Miss Caralee pressed it against the screen and peered outside, squinting into the night.

“Your grandfather know you out this late?”

“He said he was going to lock me up. Keep me in the diddlecar till I learned some sense.”

“Mmm-hmm…” The ancient woman sighed. “That man! What have you gone and did now?”

“I was just looking. Didn’t nobody see me. Haven’t been no hunters since spring.”

“Lord have mercy. Spying on the road again. Don’t you have work to tend?”

“No ma’am. I done finished it, but if Purodad locks me up, I won’t be getting nothing done. He thinks he can do it all himself, but you know he can’t. He’s got town folk to visit. Healings to tend.”

“Hush up, Chile. Ain’t nobody getting locked up. But you listen to me. You a grown woman now. Time is for you to tell him what to do. If you want to go running your skirts through the pluff mud, that’s nobody’s business but your own--just so long your work is done—but laws… spying on the road? I told you that myself. If Mr. Jonah say it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe.”

“But if they don’t see me—”

“You think your grandfather don’t know what is? Folks all around paying him good money and you too good to listen?”

“No ma’am.” Mari looked down at the ground and tried to put some respectful back into her voice. “But I was just—”

“Just say you’re sorry and don’t do it no more. That’s all he want.”

“But, if nobody sees me—”

“If? That’s what that little white spot say? If?” Caralee jabbed a gnarled finger at the screen.

Mari caught her breath. She was pointing to her chest. Had Purodad told her? Nobody was supposed to know.

“That’s right. That little white spot on your chest. You was the one what healed it? That how you know so much more’n Mr. Jonah?”

“I wasn’t saying…” Mari’s throat tightened, choking off her words. “I didn’t mean to…” Her eyes filled with tears. “I—”

“You a sweet girl. I know you don’t mean nothing by it, but you got to listen to your grandfather. Mr. Jonah’s got the sight. If he say it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe.”

“Yes’m.” Mari hung her head and blinked her tears onto the ground.

“That’s right. Maybe he ought to lock you up. Running off in the middle of the night. Scaring a body half to death. That how I taught you?”

“No ma’am.”

“That’s right. Now get on to that fancy diddlecar of yourn before he sets the hunters after you hisself.”

Mari nodded and looked up at her teacher. The old woman’s mouth was pressed firm, but her eyes still had the laugh in them. If she wasn’t angry, maybe she’d be willing to—

“Go on. Get going. And don’t peep out of that wagon till Mr. Jonah say it’s safe.”

“Maybe if you came with me, he wouldn’t be so—”

“Shush!” Miss Caralee cocked her head. The night air rang out like the silence after a thunder clap. Heavy, unnaturally still, quiet as the deep waters. Even the mosquitoes had left off their buzzing.

“Lord have mercy.” Caralee fumbled with the lock and pushed open the screen door. “Come in the door, chile! It’s the badness. It’s the badness for sure!”

The woman grabbed Mari by the arm and tugged.

“No!” Muddy shadows pressed into Mari’s mind. “No ma’am, please. I can’t!” She yanked her arm free and spun around to search the night. A ghostly whisper blew up her spine, chilling through her like a mid-winter breeze. Another voice. Another. Hungry, twisted, dripping with poisonous malice. They were coming from… inside her head!

“Come on, Chile. This ain’t no house to be afraid. Get in the door!” Feeble hands pawed at Mari’s back. “Get in the door now!”

Pale blue moonlight danced before Mari’s eyes. A patchwork of branches, bobbing up and down. The soft glow of distant light—a shuttered window. Their diddlecar!

“Purodad!” Mari broke into a run. Through the garden, across the clearing, dodging in and out between the shadows of phantom trees, she leaped and twisted and splashed through the roiling blackness. Jolting moonlight flashed inside her head. Cloaked figures, maddening screams, slapping branches.

The badness. The swamp was drowning in it. Suffocating, choking, soaking deep into her soul. A dim shadow swept past her, catching her arm and spinning her around. Tangles of grasping vines. Sucking mud. Splashing water.

“Purodad!” Her shrieks were swallowed up by the blackness. “Purodad?”

The darkness suddenly shifted. The weight of a hundred staring eyes pressed into her brain. They knew where she was. They would destroy her, suck the marrow from her bones. She was theirs now. Helpless, alone. There could be no escape.

Clawing at her face and hair, she threw herself to the ground, rolling over and over and over across the bracken. Dark tentacles coiled around her mind. Through her nostrils, her mouth, forcing their way into her eyes.

A gunshot sounded against her screams. Distant shouts.

“No!” Mari fought to her feet and stumbled forward, ripping through the clinging stickers, pushing though clacking reeds. Water up to her knees, a muddy bank, she was running now. Faster and faster toward the distant light. The diddlecar pounded and jolted into view. A light jumped and flared in the window. “Purodad!”

Throwing open the door, she dove inside and rolled. Onto her knees, grasping at the swinging door, she slammed it shut and yanked down on the bolt.

She scoured the interior of the wagon with darting eyes. Where could her grandfather be? He wouldn’t have gone—

A howling scream shook the wagon, sending Mari crashing into the floor. A chorus of silent screams jolted like lightning bolts through her body. Purodad was out there. He was out there with them.

Holy One … I can’t do it. Please... A tremor shuddered up her spine, sucking the heat from her body. I can’t. She climbed unsteadily onto her feet and slid back the bolt of the door.

Swirling blackness pushed into the wagon, filling her mind with a muzzy haze. Please. She tumbled out of the wagon and landed in a heap on the ground.

Another howl rattled into her brain. Mari’s stomach seized up. She was on her hands and knees heaving. Over and over again. The badness buzzed in her brain like a swarm of cuckoo bees. Filling her, surrounding her, covering her skin with stinging pain.

Holy One, please… She pushed herself onto her feet and tottered forward. He was out there. With the badness. Her grandfather! She was running now. Faster and faster, pushing through thickets, slashing branches, tearing thorns.

Another gunshot rang out. Another and another. Flashes of sparking light.

A jolt slammed into her, knocking her onto the ground. Tongues of penetrating darkness licked at her skin, coiling around her arms, forcing their way into her mouth and nose. A scream convulsed her body, but the badness wouldn’t let it escape. She was drowning in it. Couldn’t breathe.

A sudden explosion of blinding light ripped through the forest. Shining through her eyelids, into her skull, penetrating deep into her brain. The swamp shook beneath her, sending her skittering across the ground. The earth was moving, tilting onto its side. Mari grabbed at a sapling, clung to it with both hands as she was tipped out over the inky blackness of the night sky far below.

The light faded slowly and finally winked out. Suddenly the ground was beneath her again and the sky was back in its rightful place. Silence rang like a bell. Its throbbing echoes reverberated in her ears. Something had happened. Something terrible. She rolled onto her back and lay, panting and trembling, at the bottom of the deep moonlit night.

“Purodad?” Her whisper sounded like a shout against the silence.

A thud sounded in the distance. The crackle of dry leaves.

“Puro—” Her voice caught in her throat as a rustle shook the undergrowth nearby. Something was moving toward her. Something big.

Mari rolled over and tried to climb onto her feet, but her legs were heavy as wet fishnets. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t lift herself from the cover of weeds.

A gurgling rasp sounded from the edge of a clump of trees. It was getting closer. Mari pushed onto her feet, but she could only stare. A low shadow was creeping through the foliage. Panting breaths. Sputtering gasps.

The figure broke through the leaves and collapsed at the base of the trees.

“Purodad!” Mari stumbled toward the gasping man and flung herself onto her knees. “What’s wrong? What just happened?”

A dark stain slowly spread across the old man’s chest. He was coughing now. Gasping for breath.

“No… Stay right here! Miss Caralee’ll know what to do.”

“Quiet!” Her grandfather barked. “Listen to me!”

“But Miss Caralee…” Mari jumped to her feet. “I’ll be right back. She’ll pray a healing. You’ll see. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll be—”

“Quiet!” His voice lashed out at her, cutting her like a knife.

She dropped to the ground and grasped at his hand.

“Listen to me! This is my time. Nothing else can help.”

“Grandfather, no! We’ll pray—”

“You’re no granddaughter of mine!” the old man rasped. “No relation at all. Hear?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” A sob wracked her body, sealing off her throat.

“No relation at all.” The man’s face tightened and his head lolled back onto the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Mari blurted through her tears. “I tried to hide. I didn’t think they seen me…”

A long sigh silenced her sobs. Her grandfather’s eyes were still open. His lips were trembling. He was trying to talk.

Mari leaned in closer. His breath was coming in short gurgling gasps. Finally he took a hiccoughing breath and let it out in a long sigh

“Find him. I want you to promise me. Find him first. Then find the others.”

“Find who? Miss Caralee?”

“Shhhh…” Purodad’s face tightened into a grimace and gradually relaxed with another sigh. “Dig the grave yourself. Round. Two and a half feet wide. Hear?”

“No!” Mari shook her head. He wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t. He was the prophet—

“Hurry. They’re gone now, but they’ll be back soon.” His eyelids fluttered and slowly drifted shut. “Bury me standing. I must be buried standing.” view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the author:

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
-- Jeremiah 29:11


1. Imagine that you suddenly had the ability to see into the future. How would that ability change your attitudes and actions in the following situations?
a. Watching your favorite television show.
b. Investing your money.
c. Talking to a hostile coworker about your faith.
d. Choosing new friends.
e. Deciding who to marry.
f. Raising kids.

2. God knows your future and has plans to prosper your life. If you were to live your life in the light of this reality, how would it change your attitudes and actions in your relationship with your:
a. spouse.
b. children.
c. work
d. finances

3. Based on a reading of Luke 12:11-34, what do you think Jesus would say our attitudes and actions should be in the following situations?
a. Watching your favorite television show.
b. Investing your money.
c. Talking to a hostile coworker about your faith.
d. Choosing new friends.
e. Deciding who to marry.
f. Raising kids.

4. At the end of Powers Mariutza finally understands the significance of all the instruction and training she received from her grandfather. Who in your own life has been a teacher or mentor, especially in your faith? What’s the most valuable thing you learned from that person?

5. How is Mari’s situation similar to your situation as a believer?

6. How was Mariutza’s training related to Jaazaniah’s visions? Which would you rather have, Jaazaniah’s gift or Mariutza’s training? Why?

7. How was Mariutza’s attitude toward people different from Jaazaniah’s attitude? How does you attitude toward people compare to theirs?

8. Where do you think the differences in their attitudes came from? What has contributed the most to your attitude toward others.

9. All through Scripture we’re instructed to love others. How well do you think you are doing on that command? What one thing can you change to improve your attitude toward others?

10. At the end of Powers Jaazaniah’s perspective suddenly shifts and he becomes extraordinarily confident. Where do you think that confidence came from?

11. Do you have a sense of confidence in yourself? In your faith? What does Ephesians 6:10-18 have to say about the source of our confidence?

12. Why do you think Mari’s and Jazz’s enemy wants to kill them? Do you have an enemy? What does your enemy want to do to you?

13. Read Psalm 57. What does this say to you about dealing with enemies?

14. Do you believe we have supernatural enemies? Read 1 Peter 5: 6-11. What is our greatest defense against such enemies?

15. Jaazaniah and Mariutza were both called to fulfill God’s purposes. Share a time you felt called to a specific purpose. How has God used that in your life? In the lives of those around you?

Weblinks

»	Publisher's Book Info
»	Author John B. Olson's web site

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