Secret of the Slaves by Alex Archer Read Free Book Online

her.
    â€œI’m allergic to something in here,” she said.
    Mafalda, who had waited coolly for the whispered exchange to end—suggesting some experience with tourists—began her tour. “I serve the practitioner of candomblé. I have here everything needed for the toques, the rituals, whether public or private.”
    â€œWhat’s candomblé? ” Dan asked as Mafalda led them through narrow aisles with bins of sheaved herbs, colorful feathers and beads.
    â€œIt’s a widespread folk religion in Brazil,” Annja said. “It’s basically a combination of Catholicism with West African beliefs.”
    â€œLike voodoo?” Dan asked.
    â€œThat’s right,” Annja said, nodding. She dabbed surreptitiously at a droplet that had formed at the end of her nose and sniffled loudly again.
    â€œWe believe in a force called axe, ” Mafalda said, leading them into an aisle with a number of tiny effigies that reminded Annja of Mexican Day of the Dead figurines. There were also racks of odd, twisted dried roots and vegetables and sturdy cork-topped jars with not-quite-identifiable things floating in murky greenish fluids.
    â€œMind the jacaré, ” Mafalda said as an aside.
    â€œHuh?” Dan said. “What’s jacaré? ”
    He bumped his head on something hanging from the ceiling. He did a comical double take to find himself looking into the toothy grin of a four-foot stuffed reptile hung from the ceiling.
    â€œOne of those,” Annja said. She had found a travel pack of tissues in the large fanny pack she wore, and was in the process of blowing her nose. It made a handy cover for her grin. “An Amazon caiman. There’s a specific species named jacaré, but people around here mostly call all crocodilians that.”
    Dan cocked a brow at Mafalda, who wasn’t bothering to hide her own toothy grin. “Decorating with endangered species?”
    â€œWe’re more endangered by the jacarés, ” their hostess said promptly. “They eat many Brazilians each year.”
    â€œIs she serious?” Dan asked.
    â€œOh, yes,” Annja said.
    He shrugged, shaking his head.
    â€œYou were telling us about axe, ” Annja prompted Mafalda. She had no idea if it had anything to do with their mission—to find some lead, however tenuous, to the mysterious hidden city named Promise—but she was fascinated, personally and professionally, with the local folk religion.
    â€œOh yes.” The turbaned head nodded. “ Axe is the life force. It permeates all things.”
    â€œSo your toques involve evoking this life force?” Annja asked.
    The woman led them on toward the front of the cramped store. “Somewhat. Mostly we invoke the orixás. ”
    The word was unfamiliar to Annja. “What are they?”
    Mafalda flashed a quick smile. “Our gods,” she said, “Olorum is the supreme creator, but he doesn’t pay so much attention to us little people. So we don’t trouble him. The orixás, though, they’re the deities who deal with us humans. So they’re the ones we have to worry about keeping happy.”
    â€œMakes sense,” Dan said.
    The tall woman had led them back to the cash register, which was a modern digital model, Annja noted, Beside it stood racks of CDs with colorful covers. Dan picked one up and scrutinized it. “You have a sideline selling Brazilian jazz?” he asked. “These don’t look like New Age meditation CDs.”
    â€œThey are for the capoeira, ” Mafalda said.
    â€œThe martial art?” Annja asked.
    Mafalda laughed. “It’s more than a martial art.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œDo you know the story of the slaves?” Mafalda asked. Annja felt Dan tense beside her. Her own quick inhalation turned into a sneeze, only half-staged.
    â€œSome,” Annja said cautiously.
    â€œWell, the slaves weren’t