Corinne felt like something hard had lodged in her throat, making it difficult to breathe.
“The lightning struck your mama,” he said. “She had been feeling unwell before the storm. She couldn’t survive.”
Corinne sank into her papa’s chest and let him wrap his arms around her. “You never told me,” she said.
Pierre took a deep breath. “You cannot go,” he said. “Do you see?”
“I have to go, anyway, Papa,” Corinne said. “This time, the god is not going to stop until everything and everyone on this island is broken.”
“If you go, I might lose you.”
Corinne held her papa’s face in her hands. “If I don’t go, we will lose everything.”
18
The Other Mermaid
Corinne’s toes had barely touched the froth at the break of the waves when two mermaids bobbed out of the water. She swam out to meet them, and Sisi grabbed her hand and dragged her into the sea. Corinne took a last glimpse at Pierre, who stood on shore, forlorn, before she was pulled under.
Sisi’s fins and tail flashed yellow with red at the tip. Addie swam ahead of them, a bright green slash in the water. They moved past the waving coral reef, which looked like it had been ripped apart, then past another, older reef farther out that lay bleached as bones, broken and scattered in the golden sea sand. Corinne pointed to the surface, indicating she needed more air, but this time Sisi and Addie didn’t notice. They kept moving, around the skeleton of the ancient coral reef to the far side where Mama D’Leau lay coiled up in her own tail. Corinne went limp at the sight of the powerful jumbie lying in the sand like a washed-up fish. Sisi tugged her along. But as they got close, the water pushed against them, hurtling them away from the old reef with a spray of bubbles and sand. Corinne used that moment to break free of Sisi’s grasp and kick to the surface for a breath.
Sisi and Addie came up with her, as well as the third mermaid, Noyi.
“Took you long enough,” Noyi snapped. She was thicker than the other two, with her hair coiled into an elaborate bun of plaits on top of her head.
“She was looking for her papa,” Sisi explained.
Noyi rolled her eyes. “And all the while, I have been here, trying to get Mama out.”
“I came as quickly as I could,” Corinne said.
“So what do we do now?” Addie asked. “We can’t get close to her no matter what we do.”
“What have you tried?” Corinne asked.
Noyi put her hands on her scaly dark blue hips. “How many ways is there to get to a person?” she snapped. “We have been trying to swim to her.”
“From the front always?” Corinne asked.
“The reef is at her back,” Sisi said. “With the pull that strong, we’d get gouged on the old coral trying to reach her from behind.”
The cut on Corinne’s leg from the time she had climbed the cliff began to tingle. She rubbed it. “You aren’t used to having to hang on to things,” Corinne said. “You have to hold on with your hands and your feet.”
“Feet.” Noyi pursed her lips and glared at her.
Corinne looked down at the mermaid’s waving tail. “Right. Well, I know how to hang on. I’ve done it hundreds of times while climbing,” Corinne said. “One of you could put me in the coral, and I’ll get to her from the back.”
“What makes you think this Huracan won’t notice you?” Addie asked.
“You’ll distract him,” Corinne said.
“But then the current will take you,” Sisi said.
“That’s when I have to hang on the hardest.”
Sisi’s face brightened. Addie shrugged, but Noyi looked even more irritated.
“How long do you think that will take?” Noyi asked. “Can you suddenly breathe underwater, land fish?”
“Land fish!” Addie snorted. “She’s a cascadura!”
“Swimming in the mud!” Noyi said, laughing.
Corinne bristled. “Do you want my help or not?”
The mermaids quieted down.
“If this doesn’t work, we will think of something else,” Corinne said. Without waiting for the mermaids, she took a gulp of air and went under, swimming for the dead reef.
Sisi pulled Corinne along and dropped her in the middle of the coral, as close to Mama D’Leau as she could get. She swam off, joining Addie and Noyi, who had gone around the reef. Together they tried to approach Mama D’Leau from the front again. Hopefully their actions would distract Huracan from the small girl hiding in the stiff coral.
As soon as the mermaids got close, the current stirred. The water felt like it was draining in one direction, pulling Corinne with it. She held on tight to the coral even though it dug into her hands and feet. When the current had pushed the mermaids away, the pressure lowered. Corinne pressed forward, picking her way over the razor-sharp shards. She stayed low and moved as slowly as she could, but she was quickly running out of breath.
Corinne’s foot slipped and caught the edge of a broken brain coral. She yelped bubbles, losing precious air. The water rushed at her again. Her feet flew out from under her, pulled into a vortex. She held on tight. Her left hand bled from the coral, but she didn’t let go. The water built pressure against her, squeezing out what little air she had left in her lungs. The coral broke in her hand. Corinne was pried off the reef and went spinning.
Corinne felt Mama D’Leau’s strong, muscled tail wrap around her and pull her down to the sand. But Corinne needed to go up toward air. The water swirled as if it was trying to pluck her from Mama D’Leau’s tail.
The jumbie squeezed harder and pulled Corinne into its depth like a slowly turning screw. When Corinne was wholly engulfed in the tail, she looked directly into a pair of deep blue eyes that blinked out at her from the darkness.
So you come, then, Mama D’Leau said.
Air! Corinne managed. Air!
Mama D’Leau loosened her tail a little, and Corinne felt the need for air disappear from her body. The jumbie could allow anyone she wanted to breathe underwater.
Corinne paused a moment, enjoying the feeling of air-filled lungs. Thank you, she said. It’s Huracan who has you trapped.
You think I don’t know that? Mama D’Leau said. You could have stayed on land if that is all you have to share.
I think I can help.
You can’t even breathe.
I could if you changed me.
And then what? Mama D’Leau asked. You would be in the same position as those three.
They looked out through the coils of Mama D’Leau’s tail at the three mermaids swimming just outside of the swirling current.
Huracan is angry with you, but he’s angry about Severine, too, Corinne said. If I bring her back and get her on the island, he will be satisfied.
Mama D’Leau threw her head back and laughed a long, gurgling laugh. What you know about how Huracan feel?
The white witch taught me about balance. And Papa Bois told me that you all had an agreement. It was broken when . . . Corinne stopped herself from saying that the agreement had been broken when Mama D’Leau sent her for the opal that allowed her to walk on land. It doesn’t matter how it was broken, she said instead. What matters is that I can help fix it.
No.
Why not? Corinne asked. Because if Severine comes back you can’t be on land anymore?
Who tell you so?
I figured it out for myself, Corinne said. She felt the muscle of the tail squeeze tight again. The space grew dark and hot, but the jumbie’s cold skin pressed against her. The opal lets you come on land, but you couldn’t do that while Severine was there. She wouldn’t allow it. Corinne paused. Wait. You got me to get rid of her for you!
Mama D’Leau chuckled. That was all your idea. I never tell you to pull she into the sea.
But you made sure it was t
he only choice I had. Now with her gone and you walking on land, Huracan thinks there is too much chaos. Too much trouble. So he is going to put everybody back in their place the only way he knows how. Corinne lowered her voice. I can find Severine. I can bring her back. We can have balance again.
You would bring she back after all she do to you? Mama D’Leau asked.
She’s family, Corinne said. You give family a chance to be forgiven. And anyway, there is no other way to satisfy Huracan.
The tail tightened around Corinne again. She was sure the pressure would crack her bones. Corinne dug her fingers into the jumbie’s flesh and tried to pry her way out, but Mama D’Leau’s grasp was impossible to slip. Finally, Mama D’Leau released Corinne, who floated up and out of the coils. This time there was no current pushing her away. It was almost as if Huracan himself had approved the plan. Corinne floated far above Mama D’Leau’s head. When she looked down, the jumbie was freeing herself from the pale, broken coral, and the mermaids were coming to Mama D’Leau’s side.
There was something else—a bright orange tail extended from Corinne’s hips. Corinne felt suddenly cold as worry wrapped around her. Her eyes flicked to shore, where her papa waited. He was right. She had not considered the effect of her actions. The last time she had become a mermaid, she had forgotten her home, her friends, and her papa. Would it happen again? She wished he was close.
Mama D’Leau’s tail unfurled toward Corinne. As the end straightened, a necklace slipped from its scales. Corinne caught it. It was the necklace with her mama’s stone, broken and wrapped in leather to keep it together. She rubbed her thumb on the pendant, feeling every familiar nick and crack. It wasn’t her papa, but maybe it was enough.
Thank you.
You will need it when you start to forget yourself, Mama D’Leau said.
It didn’t help me to remember the last time, Corinne said.
But now you know it will happen, so you can try to stop it.
19
A Cloud in the Water
Corinne hesitated only a moment to retie her mama’s necklace around her throat. She popped her head above the waves to look at her papa, who stood on the beach. Saying she would come right back was the second lie she had told that day. She turned away, moving south, and followed the same path she had taken months ago when she had left the island with Severine.
She kept one hand on the necklace and repeated things she knew to be true.
I am Corinne. I live on an island with my papa.
My friends are Dru, Bouki, Malik, Laurent, and Marlene.
My oranges are the sweetest on the island.
Tante Severine is my mother’s sister. She is family.
The water turned cold and Corinne’s skin tightened. When the sea thickened with ice, she chased shadows, searching for Severine but finding only sharks and lumbering whales. She dove deep where the light dimmed to nearly black. Her vision changed, like a light turning on, brightening despite the darkness, so every flashing scale, every flapping fin, and every mote of sand in the depths shone brightly.
I am Corinne.
She wove through the water, slowly. She couldn’t come back empty-handed. She turned in every direction and combed the cold seafloor for any sign of Severine, but there was none. In all the time since Corinne had left Severine behind, her aunt could have traveled anywhere in the world, and there was no way to track her. The water did not leave marks, and the ocean was vast.
Tante Severine is my mother’s sister.
Corinne stopped and tried to consider her choices. The current pulled her a little way, depositing her near a circle of rocks stacked like misshapen vases. They were white on the outside, but the inner shafts were dark. Corinne caught one of them to stop herself from drifting farther. It was hot. She pulled her hand away and rubbed it. The current pulled her again, widening her view. It was not one small rock circle, but several of them, wide as a coral reef, and she was in the middle. Corinne pushed against the current to move back in the direction she had come from. She strained to make her way to open water.
A small, hard creature like a dark crab scrambled out from between one of the open mouths in the rocks. Then there was another, and another. They spilled out in wave after wave, like they were running from something. Panic rose in Corinne’s throat. She tried to move faster. The sea trembled around her, then became still. A moment later a plume of deep gray erupted from the center of each rocky vase. Corinne watched what looked like a volcanic eruption play out in slow motion as the smoke-colored water reached toward her. It was instantly warmer, and Corinne felt more comfortable, but the temperature rose slowly and steadily. Corinne moved up and away as the water heated like stew.
She kept her eye on the still-erupting plumes, trying to stay ahead of the hot gray cloud that spewed from them. Her body was slow from the effort of searching. The hot stream billowed out, getting closer and closer to the tip of her tail.
Corinne gathered her strength and surged forward—directly into the path of rows of jagged teeth. She dipped just in time to avoid the mouth of the killer whale, but the body of the creature rolled her, knocking her off her path and making her lose momentum. The gray water caught up to her, searing the tips of her tail. She swam forward again, and the whale slapped her body with its fin, driving her out of its path. She steadied herself and braced for the whale’s return attack, but it moved off. Corinne wasn’t the killer whale’s concern. But in the time she lost, the gray water reached her. It wrapped around her, burning hot. She took off again, but it was everywhere, and she didn’t know which way to swim.
A pair of hands pulled Corinne out of the cloud and towed her away, faster than she could move, to clear, cold water.
When they stopped, Corinne drifted just far enough away to see her rescuer was a mer-creature like her, with blue-black skin and scales of silver and black striping his tail. He stared at her with his head tilted. The billowing cloud was dull behind his shining skin and glittering tail, but it wasn’t moving any closer to them. A moment later, the cloud slowly dispersed until the water was clear again.
Thank you, Corinne said.
The merman bowed his head. Wo din de sen? he asked.
There was something about his voice that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it, and she didn’t know what he was asking.
Who are you? he asked again.
Corinne couldn’t remember.
Why are you here? he tried.
She didn’t know that either. There had been hot, foggy water, and before that, creatures crawling out of the oddly shaped rocks. Before that, she had been swimming fast, but where she had come from, and where she was headed, she couldn’t remember.
The merman touched the necklace at Corinne’s neck. She clasped her fingers around it protectively. The grooves of the stone were familiar beneath her fingers.
This is my mama’s, she said.
And?
I live on an island.
Yes?
And family should be given a chance to be forgiven.
Understanding spread across the merman’s face. Oh. You are looking for the creature.
Yes. My aunt, Corinne said. But how did you know?
Every creature belongs to another, the merman said. None of us come from nowhere.
Is she angry? Corinne asked.
The merman shrugged. You will have to ask.
20
The Boys Return
Hugo waited nervously at the front of the bakery all day long. He made bread that came out lopsided, and pies that were charred on the bottom, and he used salt for the glaze instead of sugar.
“They will be back soon,” Mrs. Ramdeen said, turning a half-burnt pie in her hands. “They know the mountains like the backs of their hands.” She picked off the black bits and handed the rest to Allan, who dove in eagerly. Even on Hugo’s worst
day, his pastries were delicious.
Hugo nodded, but his chest felt tight. His eyes strained to see out the door and around corners, and inventory every head that jogged down the road.
“They were with the girls,” Mrs. Ramdeen assured him. “And if they are back, the boys will be back soon, too.”
Hugo thought about Corinne’s face when she told him about the boys on the mountain. She had not met his eyes straight on. He swallowed hard.
“Dru has only just come back to the village,” Mrs. Ramdeen continued. “She said they had to take a different way down because of all the damage. Then they were a long way off.”
Hugo tried to smile. But he knew that the pain in his chest would not go away until his boys returned. He threw out all the baking he had done that afternoon, to the delight of a pack of stray dogs. Then he closed up the pantry and sat with Mrs. Ramdeen on the bench outside. The thin gold bands on Mrs. Ramdeen’s wrists clinked together as she patted the baker’s hands. The two of them watched Allan draw a ring in the dirt near the side of the road. He took out a bag of marbles and began to pitch the little glass balls against each other. Each tap of the glass and scrape of Allan’s foot in the dirt and clink of Mrs. Ramdeen’s braceleted hand counted another moment that Bouki and Malik were gone, and another moment that Hugo’s heart ached.
He closed his eyes, as if that might make the time move more quickly. The sun beat down on his eyelids. Instead of darkness, he saw pulsing flesh and blood.
“Look!” Allan shouted.
Hugo’s eyes flashed open and he stood up so fast that the bench tipped over, knocking Mrs. Ramdeen into the dirt.
Hugo would have picked her up and helped her to dust off, but at the end of the road, just past the market gate, were his boys. He left Allan to help his mother and ran for Bouki and Malik.
The boys seemed bigger to him, as if they had grown overnight. Malik ran into Hugo’s outstretched arms. Bouki moved more slowly, but he didn’t object to the squeezing hug that Hugo gave them both.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The Jumbie God's Revenge Page 10
