Page 20 of Langiappe & Lost Legends

Dani documented our creations with her camera, and then we piled into my car. The drive into the Quarter was quick, and we found a city mired in magical chaos. The magical disruptions made peak Mardi Gras look orderly by comparison. We passed a streetcar caught in a time-loop eddy. One moment it was a pristine nineteen-twenties vehicle with ladies in elaborate hats fanning themselves. The next it carried bell-bottomed tourists from the seventies. Next came sleek modern commuters with their faces buried in phones. The conductor had apparently embraced the chaos and was calling out stops with period-appropriate flair for whatever decade they happened to be experiencing.

A cluster of tourists was huddled around their phones. They were delightedly photographing what they assumed was an impressively committed historical performer. I recognized Marie Antoinette. She offered both traditional French pastries and modern cupcakes with equal aristocratic grace. On one corner, a jazz ensemble played compositions that didn't exist yet. Their instruments were even an anachronistic mix. A saxophone from the nineteen-twenties harmonized with anelectric keyboard that hadn't be invented. The drummer's kit featured pieces from every decade in between.

"Take a left here," Phi directed as she kept her eyes glued to her device. The screen flickered between a modern digital display and what looked suspiciously like an ancient star chart. "The signal's getting stronger. Whatever they did in that ritual, it's affecting a specific area."

"Anyone else notice how the temporal distortions are forming a pattern?" Dani asked.

Phi nodded. "I think it's a spiral, centering on whatever's causing these readings."

I turned down a side street I'd driven past a thousand times but never really noticed. You know the ones that seem to exist in every old city. They'd hide in plain sight until you needed them. This one led to a mansion that definitely wasn't on any tourist maps. The architecture was a fever dream of styles. There were Greek Revival columns and Victorian gables. There were also Art Deco elements that melted into Colonial features. Someone had taken pieces from every era of New Orleans history and smashed them together into one impossible building.

"Well, that's not ominous at all," I muttered as I pulled up to the gates. They were wrought iron, naturally. This was New Orleans, and apparently, there was a law about that somewhere. The metal was twisted into patterns that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at them. I parked, and we climbed out of my SUV.

"The energy readings are off the charts," Phi reported as we approached the gate. Dre placed her finger on it, and it swung open at her touch. Rusted hinges screamed like something from a horror movie soundtrack. "Whatever they're doing, this is ground zero. The temporal disturbances are all emanating from this location."

My heart started hammering against my ribcage in excitement. I was eager to stop the chaos before it got worse. We moved through the overgrown garden. Our steps were silent on the dead grass. The plants seemed caught between seasons. Roses bloomed and wilted on the same bush while vines grew and withered in endless cycles. Every window in the mansion watched us approach. I didn't mean that metaphorically. Eyes appeared in the glass and focused on us.

"Check it out," Kota whispered as she pointed to a first-floor window. The glass rippled like disturbed water. "That one's showing the Battle of New Orleans. Only in their version, the British are winning. And is that... are those dragons?"

"This one's showing the future," Dani called softly from another window. Her face was illuminated by an eerie blue glow. "Or a future, at least. The Quarter is underwater. And there are merpeople swimming down Canal Street. One of them is holding a Hurricane glass from O’Brien’s."

"Look at this," Dre said, gesturing to a bay window that took up most of one wall. "It's showing the plantation, but it’s overrun by imps."

"Focus," I reminded them, though I couldn't help glancing at a window showing what looked like dinosaurs wandering through Jackson Square. A T-Rex wearing Mardi Gras beads was definitely going to feature in my nightmares. "We need to find where they're performing their ritual."

My heart was in my throat when I touched the front door. It opened at my touch. It swung inward with the kind of dramatic creak that would have made a Hollywood sound engineer proud. The entrance hall was a study in controlled chaos. Every reflective surface – mirrors, windows, even the polished floor – showed a different time period. It was like standing in the world's most confusing art gallery.

"Is that Marie Laveau?" Kota pointed to a gilded mirror near the stairs. "Or one of her ancestors."

"That's not our Marie," Phi said as she studied her device. "The temporal signature suggests this is from at least two centuries ago. We're seeing one of her ancestors."

"The signal's strongest upstairs," she continued. Her device pulsed with an urgent light that cast strange shadows on the walls. "The east wing would be my guess. And whatever's up there is putting out enough temporal energy to rewrite history itself."

We moved up the grand staircase. Our steps echoed despite our best efforts at stealth. The second floor was a maze of corridors that seemed to rearrange themselves when we weren't looking directly at them. It was classic haunted house stuff. Only their twist made it about a thousand times worse.

"Did we pass that door already?" Dani whispered as she pointed to an elaborate portal covered in sigils.

"Hard to tell," I replied. "Time's not exactly moving in a straight line in here. For all we know, we're walking through the same moment over and over."

"Through here," Phi interrupted as she stopped in front of a set of double doors that looked like they belonged in Versailles. Gold filigree-laced patterns filled the wood. It was a true work of art. "Whatever they're doing with the crystal, this is the center of it."

I pushed open the doors and stumbled back like I’d had one too many at a Halloween party. I was not prepared for what we found. The circular room was massive. Its walls were completely covered in mirrors of every size and style imaginable. Each one showed a different part of the Quarter. I opened my senses now that we were there and noted that they were connected to them somehow. I’d bet anything we were looking at the anchor points.I could feel the twisted energy flowing between the mirrors like currents in a river.

"It's a hub," Phi breathed as her device went crazy in her hands. The screen cycled through readings so fast I couldn't follow them. "They're using the mirrors and anchor points. This is how they are connecting different time periods with locations in the city.”

My mind processed what she was saying and took it one step further. “They needed the Larmes du Bayou to stabilize this network. That’s what they’re using it for."

"But why?" Dre asked as she moved carefully into the room. Her reflection in each mirror showed a different version of herself. In some, she was older, and some younger. In others, she was barely recognizable as human. "What's the point of connecting all these different times?"

"Power," I said, watching as energy arced between the mirrors like green lightning. "They're drawing energy from every possible timeline, every potential reality."

"Look at this one," Kota called from across the room. She stood in front of an ornate full-length mirror that seemed older than the city itself. The frame was carved with symbols that predated any language I knew. "It's showing the Lost Legends, but not like the woman we saw. When you look past her stunning veneer, you see how twisted she truly is. In this they look less deformed."

I moved to join her. Damn if she wasn't right. The figures in the mirror were clearly the Legends before they became lost. They looked defeated and desperate. The scene played out like a movie. It showed them being bound and their power being stripped away by a ritual that made my magical senses recoil. I couldn’t see who performed it, but I knew it was an ancestor of Marie Leveau. Nothing made me react like her power.

"That's not how the story goes," Dani said, frowning at the image. "Everything we found suggested they just vanished. The records in Marie's library..."

"History is written by the winners," I reminded her. I watched as Marie Laveau's ancestors performed a ritual in the reflection. The magic they were using looked familiar. "Maybe what we think we know isn't the whole truth."

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