“What are the two of you doing here?” Sisi asked. “It’s a long way from your homes.”
“When the second storm hit we went up into the mountains,” Corinne explained.
Sisi looked revolted. “Is there any water up there?”
“Not enough to swim in,” Dru said.
Addie shuddered. “Disgusting.”
“When the storm was over, they sent us back down in a basket,” Corinne said. She turned to point to the basket, but it was gone. The rope that had brought them down swung empty.
“Who are they?” Sisi asked.
“There are people who live high up in the mountain.”
“They are Bouki and Malik’s family,” Dru added.
“Well . . .” Corinne said.
“You don’t believe Aunty Lu?” Dru asked.
“It’s just that she got rid of us so fast. Didn’t you see how she had the bags prepared to send us off? Just two of them? Like she knew the boys weren’t going anywhere?”
Dru looked skeptical. “She was nice. She took care of us.”
“She pushed us down the side of a mountain in a tiny basket that ended at a lake that nearly drowned us.” Corinne cocked an eye at Dru and waited.
Dru frowned. “You wanted to go in that basket,” she said. “You said it would be fine.”
The mermaids looked at the girls, then each other, and broke into laughter.
“Never mind,” Corinne said. She folded her arms tightly around her chest. “We need to get home. Can you help?”
“I can take Dru to the lagoon,” Addie offered. “That’s close to your village, isn’t it?”
“But my family is still in the mountains,” Dru said.
“The rain stopped. They would go back home,” Corinne said.
“Not without me.”
“Somebody would return to the house, or to the village. It’s your best choice.”
“And it’s the closest I can get you,” Addie said.
“I will take you to your beach,” Sisi said to Corinne. “We can be there very quickly.”
Corinne turned to Dru. “I will come and find you after I have talked to Papa and the white witch.”
The mermaids looked at each other, and a small, whimpering sound escaped Addie’s throat. Sisi slapped her on the back and it turned into a cough.
“What is it?” Corinne asked.
Sisi played nervously with the end of a plait. “You mentioned the white witch.”
“I need to talk to her,” Corinne said. “I need to find out what she knows about Huracan, and those people we met on the mountain.”
“I . . . I don’t know about any mountainfolk,” Sisi said. “But . . . the witch . . .”
Addie moved forward and touched Corinne’s hand. “The white witch is gone,” she said. “The water took her.”
Corinne wasn’t sure if it was the ground moving beneath her feet or the news of the white witch’s death that made her unsteady. Dru took her elbow and helped her find her balance.
“I’m sorry, Corinne,” Dru said.
“She was quite old,” Addie said.
“She was strong,” Corinne said. “She was tough. She’s probably seen a hundred hurricanes like this one and survived. You’re wrong. You’re wrong! She’s going to be in the swamp. I know it.”
“Corinne.” Dru put her arms around her friend and let her sob against her shoulder.
“Are you sure?” Corinne asked, muffled by Dru’s kurta.
“Yes. And I think in the end she was at peace,” Sisi said. “We didn’t sense her struggle.”
“And, she also . . .” Addie began, but once again, Sisi shut her up with a slap of her tail.
“Who will help me now?” Corinne asked, wiping her face and smearing pitch on her cheeks.
“We can help each other,” Sisi said.
Corinne looked at the mermaids bobbing in the water. Thanks to her papa, she had learned to detect even a flicker of worry in the furrow of a brow, or the tightness of a cheek. “Something else is wrong, isn’t it?”
“Mama D’Leau is in trouble,” Addie said. “We can’t get to her. The water is holding her captive. Every time we try to get close, the current pushes us away.”
“But the storm is over,” Dru said. “The water should be calm.”
“It’s Huracan,” Corinne said. “It must be.”
Dru shook her head. “No.”
“What else, then?” Corinne asked. “Huracan controls the storms, and he can blow the currents any way he likes.”
Dru looked into the clear blue sky. “I thought it was over.”
“So did I,” Corinne said.
“Who is Huracan?” the mermaids asked together.
“Huracan is the reason for the storms, and probably the reason you can’t get to Mama D’Leau,” Corinne said.
“Why would he trap her?” Sisi asked. “He’s hurting her.”
Corinne could have pointed out that Mama D’Leau was not known for mercy. How many fishermen and swimmers had she turned to stone on a whim? For how many hundreds of years? Many would cheer to know that Mama D’Leau was finally being kept at bay. Not long ago, Corinne might have been one of those people, but now? Now, the idea that something was stronger than the strongest jumbie she knew, and that it was ripping the whole island apart, filled her with terror.
“Mama D’Leau had an agreement that she didn’t keep,” Corinne said. “She was supposed to stay in the water, but she didn’t.”
“The witch sent a message before she died,” Sisi said.
“She said that Mama D’Leau would need help,” Addie continued.
“We think she meant from you,” Sisi finished.
“I have to check on my papa first,” Corinne said. “Then we will see about Mama D’Leau. Maybe she knows what I’m supposed to do.”
“You can’t go alone,” Dru said.
“I won’t,” Corinne promised. “There will be enough time to check on our families and meet on the beach. Won’t there?”
Once again, the mermaids exchanged a glance, but Corinne couldn’t read it.
Corinne dove into the water next to Sisi. Dru went in more carefully and took Addie’s hand.
“I’ll see you soon,” Corinne said.
Addie took Dru by the waist and disappeared.
Sisi twined her fingers with Corinne’s. “You lied to your friend,” she said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You are not the only one who can tell when someone is hiding something.” She brought a cold finger to Corinne’s furrowed brow.
“There are things my friends don’t understand,” Corinne explained.
Sisi gave an understanding nod. Corinne sunk below the surface. The two of them raced off through the shifting pitch hills, cutting around, under, and over them until they made it out to sea.
Corinne felt the difference between the lake water and the sea immediately. It was clearer for one, cooler, and then there was the sting of salt in her eyes. She tapped Sisi’s arm and pointed up. Sisi swam to the surface so that Corinne could take a breath.
“How come I can’t breathe underwater like last time?”
“Mama D’Leau made that possible,” Sisi said. “Now it’s just us and we don’t have her magic.”
Corinne gulped air and Sisi pulled her around the island until they came to the small beach at Corinne’s fishing village.
Corinne immediately looked up to the house, but from that distance, all she could see was that it was still standing. Parts of the roof had blown off, and at least one window was flapping open and closed. That meant Corinne’s papa was probably not at home.
Sisi pushed Corinne close to shore. The water was filled with floating coconuts, branches, and the sharp fronds of palm leaves. Where it wa
s shallow enough to stand Corinne dropped her feet. Broken shells, stones, and chunks of gritty sand dug into her toes. As she walked out to the beach, she nearly impaled her foot on a nail embedded in a plank of wood covered in chipped pink paint. Corinne picked it up.
All the homes on the shore were in bad shape. Roofs were torn apart, wall boards pried loose. The beach was littered with debris.
Down the shore, Laurent walked through the sand, picking up bits of board, lamps, dishes, tossing some and putting others into a sack he had slung on one shoulder.
“Laurent!” Corinne called. She jogged to him, stepping carefully to avoid all the debris. She handed him the piece of his wall. He added it to the sack. “Have you seen my papa?”
Laurent shook his head. He picked at a lump of tar that clung to the hem of her shirt. “Where are you coming from?”
“The pitch lake, and then . . .” Corinne pointed out to sea, where Sisi was still bobbing among the waves. Laurent raised his eyebrows.
“And what about your family?” Corinne asked.
“Everyone is well,” Laurent said. But he looked exhausted.
“Corinne!” Abner, Laurent’s little brother, ran up. He hugged her around the waist, nearly toppling her.
“Hi Abner,” Corinne said. “Are you helping Laurent?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“Do you want me to come to your house with you?” Laurent offered.
“No, thank you,” Corinne said.
She climbed the hill, keeping her eyes glued to the house at the top. With every step closer, she could see more damage. The fence had blown over, and the gate was gone. Some of the planks that had covered the windows had fallen away, and the windows themselves were open and broken. The ones closest to the sea were loose on their hinges and swinging free.
Corinne went all the way around the yard. Most of the garden was bare. Even the half-drum that held the chives looked like something had scooped out all the dirt, leaving just a few frayed sprigs, their edges blowing in the wind like hair. She found the gate tangled in the branches of her orange tree, whose bright fruits were strewn on the ground. Orange ones, yellow ones, green ones were all bumped and bruised in the dirt. She picked up the closest one and breathed in its sweet, sharp scent. It reminded her that not everything was entirely ruined. She kept it in her hand as she entered the house. The door still worked. The inside of the house was rain-soaked, but appeared to be intact. Her papa had put down bowls and pots to catch water, she guessed, when the roof only had a few holes in it. Now it gaped open and the vessels were useless.
Corinne splashed through the water-logged floor and put the orange on the table. All the familiar smells of the house—the oiled wood, the mild candle wax, the strong scent of the sea, even the pungent orange—were no comfort. The house felt emptier than it had ever seemed when her papa was fishing on the sea.
She thought about walking into town. Her papa would be returning from that way, and she might find Uncle Hugo and hear how they had made out in the storm, but the thought that she might find nothing, or worse, that she would find her papa had suffered the same fate as the white witch, nicked at her heart and kept her rooted to the spot.
Besides, her papa had always told her to wait for him at the house in case of emergencies. She could do that. While she waited, she would start repairing what she could.
Corinne moved through the house, picking up fallen pieces of furniture—the rocking chair that sat by the window overlooking the sea and the small table where they ate their meals. She got the lamps off the floor, swept away the broken glass, and sopped up the water and oil with towels. Everything that had survived was put back in place. Reparable items, like the oil lamps that needed new glass, the ripped curtains that she could re-sew, and her papa’s spare fishing rod that could be restrung, she placed carefully on the table. The rest went into a large dustbin in the backyard.
The bin was too large and heavy for Corinne to move. Her papa would have to take care of it when he came home. Worry pricked at her, and she strained her ears, hoping to hear his footsteps. She only heard the sounds of the fishing village cleaning below. As she tried to stifle that worry, another thought crept in, the agreement that Papa Bois had told her about. Huracan had forced the land jumbies, water jumbies, and air jumbies to live separately. But Severine had fallen into the sea, and then Mama D’Leau had gotten the opal that made it possible for her to walk on land. Then Corinne had taken Severine away to a far ocean. It was no wonder Huracan was still angry, and his storm was still brewing. But there was nothing Corinne could do about it now. Everything she had tried so far had made things worse.
She turned back to the house.
After the floors were clear, she moved to the bedrooms, pulling sodden sheets off the beds and dragging the mattresses out to dry in the sun. She had just gotten her papa’s mattress outside and leaned it against the house when she heard a noise.
“Corinne!”
“Papa?” Corinne dashed inside and into Pierre’s arms.
“Where have you been? The rain stopped hours ago.”
“We couldn’t get back down the same way, Papa.”
“What happened?”
Corinne quickly explained about their night with Aunty Lu and the basket ride down to the pitch lake. She left out the part where she and Dru nearly drowned, and how Aunty Lu had given them no warning, but she told Pierre that Sisi had brought her to the house.
“Are the boys with you?” Pierre asked.
Hugo was just making his way in, jogging slowly and looking around with an expectant smile on his face.
“No,” Corinne said. “The boys are still up the mountain.”
Hugo’s face fell.
“People have been coming out of the mountain all morning,” Hugo said. “They must still be helping everyone.”
“Yes,” Corinne said a little too quickly.
“What good boys!” Hugo said. He clapped his large hands together, causing his body to ripple with joy. “My boys!” He beamed. “They will be hungry when they get back.” He looked at Corinne for confirmation.
“You know they are always hungry, Uncle Hugo,” she said.
“Well, you and Corinne are reunited, Pierre. I will go wait for my boys.” Hugo left without another word, whistling as he walked down the path and onto the road.
“Do you want to tell me what really happened with Bouki and Malik?” Pierre asked when Hugo was out of earshot.
“They found their real family,” Corinne whispered. “Aunty Lu didn’t ask us to call her that because she helped us. It’s because she is their real aunt.”
Pierre sighed and looked at the door where Hugo had stood just moments before.
Corinne swallowed. “I’m glad you’re safe, Papa,” she said. Pierre held her tightly, but after a few seconds Corinne pushed out of his hug. He frowned, waiting for her to explain. “I have to leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have to help Mama D’Leau.”
“Now?” Pierre asked.
“She’s trapped under the water, and the mermaids can’t get to her. You told me the first storm was unusual.” Corinne waited as Pierre nodded. “And then the second storm came.”
“That was unexpected,” he agreed. “But now it’s over.”
Corinne shook her head. “It’s not happening by chance. There is a god, Huracan, who is causing all of it.”
Pierre chuckled. “Hugo told me the boys’ story. But there is no such thing, Corinne.”
“There weren’t any jumbies either,” Corinne said. “And the fish-folk were just a story we made up . . . until they weren’t.”
Pierre’s face clouded. “A god?” he asked. He passed a hand over his dreadlocked hair as he stared out the back door, over the horizon.
“Papa,” Corinne said sharply. “I have to help Mam
a D’Leau. She is trapped in the water. Only Huracan could do that. And that means it’s not over. Maybe there isn’t a storm right now, but something else will come, and there is no one else who can help her.”
Pierre shook his head and grasped her arm firmly. “No. You will not. You are safe here. There is nothing you can do to help.”
“Papa!” Corinne tried to pull away. “I promised the mermaids. They are counting on me.”
“You are a little girl,” Pierre said softly but firmly. “You will not leave. You will be injured. Or worse!”
“What would you do, Papa, to save your family?”
Pierre looked surprised, and then his face fell. “Anything. Everything. But they are not your family, Corinne.”
“They are, Papa,” Corinne said. “They were my mama’s people. So they are mine, too.”
“Don’t tell me about your mama, Corinne!” Pierre shouted. He let go of Corinne’s arm roughly.
Corinne rubbed the spot he had held. It was fine, but his words had left a mark.
“She would have helped, Papa,” Corinne said.
“She would,” he said. “She did! And what did it get her?” Pierre held on to the back of a chair and his shoulders slumped.
“What do you mean?” Corinne asked.
“This isn’t about your mother,” Pierre said. “It’s about you. Your choices. Your actions. Maybe I raised you to be too independent, spending all my time on the sea. So you don’t consider how what you do has an effect.”
Corinne stiffened. All she had done lately was worry about what happened because of her actions.
“You take the boat into dangerous waters. You climb a cliff over sharp rocks. You bargain with jumbies and cross the ocean. You disappear beneath the waves. You run out in the eye of a hurricane.” His voice was thin and raw. “You tempt fate, Corinne. How long until fate catches up? How long until you get hurt?”
Corinne swallowed hard over a painful lump in her throat. “Papa, I’m sorry.”
“I told you there was another storm like this, one that you couldn’t possibly remember.”
Corinne’s lip quivered. “Yes, Papa.”
“It was just as terrible as this one, with lightning cutting across the sky. And it took your mama.”
The Jumbie God's Revenge Page 9
