by Sarah Kelly
“There’s no way I’m missing this,” Xavier said, hanging his big old Nikon camera around his neck. He always said he never took enough pictures, and made resolutions to take more. “Mother Nature at her finest.”
“Certainly her wildest,” India said. She wondered about the connection between nature and magic. Luis had often hinted that using the powers of the elements could help you control reality, but half of what Luis said sounded like gobbledygook to India. She knew what he said was true – it always was – but that didn’t mean she understood it. Most times, this whole magic thing felt like stumbling through the dark and a whole lot of guessing. Still, she wouldn’t be without it for a moment. It had already helped her catch out three murderers, so she clung onto the rhyme and reason behind the madness. Somehow, out of all this chaos, justice would emerge.
India and Xavier left the Hummingbird Cottage and headed up to reception, where Jazz had told India they were meeting the taxi. They were around five minutes early, but India didn’t mind waiting around for the others. It was much better than being late, hurrying and stressing and feeling her blood pressure rise. As they walked up the hill, a taxi pulled up next to reception. The tinted windows were rolled up so they couldn’t see inside.
“Is that Fitzgerald’s?” India asked Xavier, peering at it.
“I think so. I hope so. Then we can talk to him.”
“Me too,” India said, quickening her pace. “Look, it has the same kind of wheels. I’m sure it’s his.”
When they were a few paces away, the driver’s door opened. A much older looking Fitzgerald stepped out. “Hi,” he said to them, but his smile did not come as easily as it had before. When they’d first met him, his short hair had been oiled and set neatly, looking blacker than black, shining just like his gold earrings. Now it was dull, the earrings had gone, and graying stubble covered his jaw.
“Fitzgerald!” India said, so glad to see him. She almost ran up to him and gave him a hug, but stopped herself. After all, she barely knew him. But the whole murder business made it seem like they were all old friends.
Xavier stretched out his hand and Fitzgerald took it. Then they pulled each other into a manly kind of hug and patted each other on the back.
“How are you holding up?” Xavier said.
Fitzgerald shook his head, breathing deeply. “I’m just… I’m just so glad I’m here now, and not in some cell. Praise the Lord.”
“Indeed.” Xavier slapped him on the back again, in such a friendly way they looked like brothers. “The truth will prevail. It will.”
“I hope so,” Fitzgerald said. “Did you two make any progress on investigating?”
India shook her head. She’d gleaned some information here and there, of course, but nothing was coming together. It was like looking down at a load of puzzle pieces, wondering where on earth to start. “Not yet.” But she gripped on tight to her faith that it would all make sense before long. She held her head high. “We’ll get there eventually.”
“I hope so,” Fitzgerald said. “The only reason they released me was because the owner and the receptionist came down to the station and said I’d been with them at the time the police think the murder took place. Then I went to drive to the store, remember, and I came back with all the bags? Well, just after I left, they say Tony came running up barefoot, saying he’d found the body.” A shadow crossed his face. “Have you spoken to him?”
“Yes,” Xavier said. “Though we didn’t get much out of him.”
Fitzgerald nodded slowly. “Watch him like a hawk. Maybe it’s not him that did it. Or maybe it is. But I bet he knows something. Nothing happens on that beach he doesn’t know about.”
The sound of giggles and slurred voices carried up the hill from behind them. India looked around to see what remained of the bachelorette party. Even Freya looked worse for wear. It was only 9.30am and they were probably already seeing double. But then they were dealing with enormous grief. India just didn’t see how it was healthy, repressing their emotions and drowning themselves in drink. Still, she knew it wasn’t her business.
When she looked at Fitzgerald watching them, she could see he was feeling something similar. In truth, he looked sick to the back teeth of this whole sordid business. Still, he had a job to do. He put on a smile. “Good morning, ladies,” he said, opening the side door.
“Hello!” Sam said loudly. Her voice was coarse and scratched along the back of her throat. “I thought you were in prison!”
Fitzgerald somehow managed to laugh. “No, no. By God’s grace, I’m out.”
“That’s wonderful news!” Mikey said, throwing herself at him in a hug. She stumbled and he stooped to catch her. “Oop! Sorry, Gerald. Let me get in the taxi and behave myself.” She giggled wildly and stepped over to get in.
“Me first!” Sam shouted. She pushed Mikey out of her way and barged her way into the taxi.
“Hey!” Mikey protested, languishing against the side of the taxi.
Fitzgerald looked as if he was beginning to lose patience. “Come along,” he said firmly, helping Mikey into the vehicle. Then, with a gentle touch, he took Jazz’s arm, then Freya’s.
“Don’t touch me,” Freya said curtly, pulling away from him.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m only trying to help you.”
India got in the front seat as before, thinking Fitzgerald had the patience of a saint. She’d have probably lost her cool at that. She made wide eyes at Xavier as he slipped into the seat next to her.
“Right? Is everyone okay?” Fitzgerald asked, standing by the door. “Put your seatbelts on, please. And no drinking alcohol in this vehicle, all right? I am going to open the windows and I hope everyone will feel all right enough to act sensible by the time we get there. They won’t let any of us in if we act like this. Any one of you could stumble into the lava pit and that would be the end of you.”
“We won’t drink,” Mikey slurred. “We promise.”
“All right.” Fitzgerald closed the door behind them and climbed up into the driver’s seat. “Let’s go.”
He swung the taxi around and drove slowly toward the exit, the wheels crunching over the gravel. Fitzgerald switched his reggae back on. India noticed a necklace with a Christian cross pendant swinging off the rearview mirror. It hadn’t been there before.
Thankfully, with the music on, the bachelorette party seemed to cool down. Jazz and Sam tried to sing along to the reggae music even though they had no clue of the words, but it was quiet enough not to be too annoying. India interlaced her fingers with Xavier’s and looked out the window, focusing on the immense lush beauty of the island. The rain had fallen just before dawn. Clouds still lingered, but didn’t cover the sun, and the shadow combined with the brightness made everything look strange. The colors had an even richer depth, and the hills and mountains were topped with wisping mist and vapor. They looked mystical. Awe inducing. Perhaps even ominous.
There was a road that led down to the town where Fitzgerald had done his shopping, but he took a right turn into a more minor road. The surfacing wasn’t so good, and he slowed down to avoid potholes. Before long they came to a steep hill, one side bordered by lush, wet forest, and the other side an open cliff. The view was spectacular, the cobalt sea taking up most of it. The peaks of other hills, and villages resting in valleys shone in the sun. Still, India couldn’t help be nervous, driving so close to a cliffside without many barriers to speak of. Especially when she caught sight of a cross jammed into the dirt, bedecked with flowers. She pointed it out to Xavier, and he shuddered. A vehicle must have gone over the side.
Still, Fitzgerald took on the road with confidence. He sang along to his music, tapping on the steering wheel, and taking the occasional glance in the rearview mirror at his intoxicated passenger load. India told herself he’d driven the route a thousand times before and she was a fool to be nervous. Still, she couldn’t help gripping Xavier’s hand a little tighter every time they approached the edge of the cliff at t
he corner, picturing the taxi hurtling straight forward, and down, down, down into the sea. But each time, Fitzgerald made the corner with expert ease.
The road undulated such a lot, with long downhill stretches, and seemingly never ending hills. India spotted a couple of farmers on a hillside in the distance, tending to their crops in rows. It was so steep, she’d imagined no one would ever venture there. She turned her head to watch them, amazed by their bravery.
“Nearly there now,” Fitzgerald said, as they began to climb quite a monumental hill. Banana trees lined each side of the road. India was not normally the fearful type, but she wondered if the taxi could really get all the way up there with so many people stuffed into it. But Fitzgerald shoved it into first gear and slammed the gas to the floor, and soon they gained enough speed to clear it. They came to a plateau on top, with a car park and taxis and a couple of stone buildings. A few people milled about. It was so strange to see so much activity, since it felt like the middle of nowhere.
“Yay!” Sam said from the back, a little too enthusiastically. “We’re here!”
“Woop woop,” someone began a chant. India turned around and was surprised to find it was Freya. For the first time, she seemed to be joining in with the rest, having a good time. Perhaps because Charlie’s out of her way, India thought before she could stop herself. But as she looked between the faces of Jazz, Mikey, Sam, and Freya, she knew she hadn’t even skimmed the surface of their secrets. They were all suspects, as was Tony. Perhaps still even Fitzgerald. Maybe he was in league with the hotel owner and receptionist who vouched for his alibi? It seemed unlikely, and there was no clear motive, but everything had to be considered.
“So,” Fitzgerald said, “let’s go to the entrance. They’ll assign us a tour guide from there.”
They all made their way toward the little stone building and paid the motherly looking lady who sat at a desk on the porch. Then she called out, “Lucius!” and a man who had been sitting on a bench under a tree eating a mango stood up and came over.
“Hello to all,” he said with an almost mischievous grin. He looked to be in his thirties, India guessed, a handsome man with dark skin, delicate features, and cornrows falling past his shoulders. “Let me just wash my hands and we’ll go to the volcano.”
“Ha ha!” Jazz said once he’d headed off to the washrooms. “He says it so casually, like oh, let’s go to the store. Let’s go to the volcano.”
The rest of the party tittered, while Fitzgerald stood on the sidelines, his hands tucked underneath his armpits, looking worried. Xavier was looking up all around them. A hill not far off jutted up even further still up into the sky, but otherwise, there was nowhere to look but down. It was exhilarating, being able to see everything from a bird’s eye view – the little villages, the boats like tiny dots on the vast sea, the undulating peaks and valleys. And everything looked so bright and rich and full of life.
Xavier lifted his camera to his eyes and began to take shots. India did the same on her iPhone, though she knew his would be more artful. Hers were the standard vacation snaps, but his were taken from interesting angles, with unexpected shafts of light and inventive perspectives. More than anything, he captured atmosphere in his shots, perhaps the spirit of the place. Like merely glancing over his picture would reel you in, somehow transporting you to where it was taken. Photography was a minor form of magic, India thought as she watched him. A lot of things were, according to Luis. Music being another. And they could be worked for bad or good.
When Lucius was all cleaned up he clapped his hands and spoke in his booming loud voice. He certainly wasn’t short of confidence. “Right! Let’s get going!”
The bachelorette girls took to him instantly, and before long they’d formed a conga line behind him as they went down the tree-lined alley behind the stone building. He joined in, kicking out his feet, and saying, “Hey!” at the appropriate times. Even Freya danced along, cackling with laughter when Mikey nearly fell over her own feet. Fitzgerald walked behind them, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around at all the plant life.
Xavier and India hung back, holding hands. “I really like it here,” Xavier said. “I mean, I knew I would, but… I never expected it to be so breathtaking.”
“Me either,” India said. “You know our offer, about potentially living here for some time if we still like it. Does that still stand?”
Xavier looked at her, his dark eyes quite serious. “For me, yes. You?”
India smiled back. “Yes. I feel… even with all the murder stuff going on… this place is like…” She couldn’t find the words to describe the feeling.
“Like you’ve been here before?” Xavier said. “Like you’ve always known it?”
“Yes!” India said, delighted that he understood. “You feel the same.”
“Weirdly, I do.” He looked pensive as he walked the path, cradling his camera to his chest like his baby. “It just feels… so right.”
India felt a wave of contentment wash over her. Those were coming much more regularly these days. She didn’t know if it was because her relationship with Xavier was deepening, or as she gained mastery of psychosorcery and magic. Perhaps both. In any case, a deep sense of tranquility had become part of her life. A sense that, even though bad things did happen, as they always would, she would be all right anyway. That somewhere, deep underneath all the trials and murders and vice and evil, there was an eternal source of peace she could connect to. And that overwhelming sense of stillness most often came to her when she was in nature.
“And heeeeeere we are!” Lucius said like an overexcited game show host.
India and Xavier hurried to catch up, and as they came to the end of the tree-lined road, the place opened out.
“Wow,” India said, watching as hot steam billowed from the bubbling gray ground.
“Do not go beyond this point where I’m standing,” Lucius instructed, serious for once. “The ground can break way beneath your feet at any time.”
He then launched into the standard talk, which it sounded like he’d done hundreds of times over. India only half listened, watching the white clouds dance across the gray landscape with the wind. Beyond where Lucius stood almost looked like a mini mountain range, with vast swathes of what seemed like rock. But it could not have been, for it was not static, but moving. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, but definitely moving within itself, like waves in the sea. Every now and then a bubble seemed to form and burst, and a stream of white smoke shot out perhaps a hundred feet high in the air. It was then that tiny flashes of orange lava were revealed, bubbling and boiling. All India could do was stare, amazed.
The bachelorette party didn’t seem so impressed, and they even began to talk amongst themselves during Lucius’ talk. He raised his voice a little louder and looked at them pointedly, which surprisingly was enough to stop them.
“So,” he said, finishing up, “that is it. You can walk down there…” He pointed to another road flanked with flower bushes that led onto more dense jungle. “That’s the nature trail. Or stay here. Or adventure around the area however you like. I myself will go down into the nature trail and can answer your questions. You’ll see local fruit and vegetables and suchlike. Just listen now, whatever you do, do not go further than where I am standing now. It will not work out well for you.”
But somebody did not take Lucius’ advice. Or perhaps they were pushed.
CHAPTER 7
Everyone dispersed, heading off wherever they pleased. Xavier got a little closer to the steaming ground, kneeling down to take photos, while India watched. Freya said she had to go to the bathroom, unsurprising, really, given the amount of alcohol they must have downed that morning, and went back toward the entrance. Sam’s cell began to ring and she looked at the screen with impatience. Then her expression softened. “It’s Dan,” she told Mikey, then hurried off into a quiet space, no doubt to gush romantic things in his ear, or talk about weddings. Jazz ambled toward the nature trail, well behi
nd Lucius, while Mikey shrugged and smiled and said, “Looks like everyone’s gone without me.” India gave her a sympathetic smile. Mikey said with a slur, “I guess I’ll just explore.” She pushed her way through a narrow gap in some bushes and was gone.
Fitzgerald stood by the pits and craters, leaning against the railing and looking pensive and serious. India wanted to ask him if he was all right but he looked best left alone.
“I want to get some pictures on the nature trail,” Xavier said. “You wanna go?”
“Sure.” India began down the path. Jazz was already out of sight. The nature trail was thick with bush and flowers and foliage, and weaved in and out between it all. Walk only a couple of steps in front of someone else, and you’d turn round a corner and disappear from their view.
Xavier lingered for a long time by individual plants, taking multiple shots from different angles. The air was thick with the sounds of birds chirping, steam whooshing up in to the sky, and the rustle of leaves swept by the breeze, unobstructed from the sea. India couldn’t think of a better place to be.
Until a man’s panicked shout pierced the air, with so much desperation in it that the sound pierced through India. “What the heck was that?” she said to Xavier, hearing her heart stop.
“Probably just some creature or something,” he said, lining up a shot of a ginger lily.
India paused, straining her ears to see if she would hear it again. It didn’t come. “I don’t think so.” She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I’m going to go check something.”
“All right. Want me to come?”
But India was already gone, back toward the volcanic area. She jogged along the path, then sped up to a run as her worry intensified. When she came in sight of the craters and pits and mountains of volcanic matter, she didn’t know what she expected to see. The place was empty. Fitzgerald was no longer by his rail. No one else was there. She was almost sure the shout had come from there, but realized sound could throw itself all over the place, especially with so much foliage and this huge volcanic mass. India shrugged and was about to turn, when she spotted a flash of blue, adjacent to the railing where Fitzgerald had been. Her breath catching, she ran toward it and looked down. When she saw what was there, her whole body was overwhelmed. She heard a piercing, shrill scream slice through her ears, but didn’t know it came from her own mouth. Fitzgerald was floating just under the surface in the hot water, which bubbled around him. Up close it made the most sickening sizzling sound, like his flesh was frying. Only his head was not submerged. His eyes were closed.
