Felltree Marsh the heron's legs.

her teeth are gritted as he speaks. a storm. she should have been there. the guilt rises, but she tamps it down; it does no good. she cannot turn back time and help.

i know your ma, Avicus says. i will 'hhlook for Mireille. your name?

it's a guess; there's no guarantee he's Erzulie's. but damned if he doesn't resemble the woman, and he smells of the sea. if she cannot be of any other service to Sapphique but this, she will seize upon the chance with alacrity.