by Marie Arnold
“I was so afraid that soldiers would hurt him and then hurt us for hiding him,” I say.
“Yes, but even though you were afraid, you did everything you could to help out. That’s part of who you are. And if you need any more proof of just how brave you can be—look right behind you.”
I turn around, and suddenly we are standing on the edge of a cliff. I see the other version of myself jump off the cliff and down to the water below.
“I remember this—Stephanie’s mom. She was drowning in grief.”
“Yes, and you helped get her back to shore,” Madam Monday says. “It’s that kind of thing that makes you special. You have to believe in that.”
I look over at myself helping Stephanie’s mom make it out of the raging waters. I didn’t stop to be afraid that day. I didn’t worry that I was going to mess things up. I just did what I thought was right. I did that back then, and that’s what I will do now—no matter what.
Madam Monday waves her hand, and suddenly we are back inside her house. Carmen says I just disappeared before her eyes. I tell her where I was and what I saw.
“Are you ready to face whatever is on the other side of that door, so you can find the snail and defeat Lydia?” Madam Monday asks.
Chapter Sixteen
Only Hope
MADAM MONDAY TRIES TO PREPARE ME for what’s on the other side of the door. She tells me that there are three obstacles I have to overcome to get to the snail I need.
“Do you know what those obstacles are?” I ask.
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” she replies.
“But Madam Monday, when you saved the last snail, you kept it in a forest for the person who might need it,” Carmen says. “Why don’t you know the traps that are there? Didn’t you set them up?”
“I placed the snail under the protection of the forest. The forest is a living, breathing thing. It makes its own rules. The only thing I know for sure is that you will be tested in three different ways. And you have to be ready, Gabrielle, because if you fail any of the three tests, you won’t get to the snail, and your family will never return.”
“Okay, I got it,” I say.
“Each test is specific to you. You will have ten minutes to find the snail and bring him out with you. If you can’t do it in ten minutes, the door will close, and you will be left inside the forest forever. So be quick, be brave, and, most of all, be clever.”
“You can do this, Gabrielle,” Carmen says.
“Yup, she’s got this!” Rocky adds.
We do a quick group hug, and Madam Monday hands me a silver antique stopwatch. “It’s set for ten minutes. Go, quickly! And remember, things may not be what they seem.”
She opens the door, there’s a blinding light, and I walk through, stopwatch in hand.
* * *
I step inside and hear the door close behind me. The light dies down, and I find myself in a lush forest with bright green trees that almost touch the sky. The forest is dense, and it’s hard to see ahead. I hear someone sobbing. I follow the voice and come to a clearing a few yards away.
“Stephanie!” I call out to my best friend, who’s sitting at the base of a tree weeping. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” I ask as I run over to her.
“You left me,” she cries.
“What?”
“You went to America, and you left me. I was your best friend, and you left me behind. How could you? How could you leave me?”
I swallow hard. “Stephanie, I love you so much. Please don’t cry.”
“You left me and all of our friends, and you went to America. How could you?” As soon as she says that, all my other friends from Haiti appear at the base of the tree. They start chanting together, “How could you leave us? How could you?”
“I didn’t want to leave you guys, but I didn’t have a choice,” I say.
Stephanie says, “That was before. Now you have a choice. You can stay with us. Can you do that, please? Can you stay with us?”
“Well . . . I . . .”
They all start chanting that I should stay. I tell them that I’m on a mission and have to go, and they look at me as if I’ve broken their hearts.
“Please, try to understand,” I beg.
“Okay, then why don’t you come and play with us, just for a little while?” Stephanie says.
I look at the stopwatch; I have eight minutes left. “Okay, I can play, but only for a bit,” I reply. They cheer and come sit at the base of the tree with us. I talk and play. It’s so much fun; I am rolling on the ground.
“This is awesome, but I have to go,” I tell them.
“Go?” Stephanie says. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying with us—forever.”
I panic and try to get up from the ground, but they are holding me back. All the kids are pulling me toward the base of the tree.
“Stephanie, let me go!”
“Never! You belong with us!” She cackles, and as her laughter hits the air, her hold on me tightens. I turn my head around to plead with her face to face.
But when I turn, I don’t see Stephanie or any of the kids. Instead, I come face to face with a massive serpent. There were never any kids. The snakes just tricked me. The whole time I was playing around, I was really in a den of snakes. They are coiling themselves around me. They’re going to squeeze me to death!
I try as hard as I can to wiggle free, but the more I try, the tighter the snakes squeeze me. I force myself to stop panicking. That’s not going to help at all. I remember Madam Monday telling me to be clever.
Think, Gabrielle, think! The forest is specific to you. Why are your friends squeezing you? They’re not. They would never do that. I am. I am squeezing myself. I am controlling the snakes, not the other way around.
“No one can hold me back but me,” I say. The snakes encircle my neck, and just before I pass out, I shout, “Let me go, now!” And just like that, the snakes turn into dried-up tree branches and fall to the ground. I am free.
I take a few seconds to catch my breath, but not too long. I look at the stopwatch, and I am down to five minutes. I start running through the forest, desperately searching for the next task that will lead me to the snail. I come to a large, dark tunnel. There’s a message carved into the side of the tunnel: “Cave of Echoes.”
I’m not sure what’s in there, but I don’t want to go inside. In fact, I think it’s best to get as far away from the cave as possible. I turn to try to go around and make my own path, but I feel something sting me on my neck.
I try to yell, “Ouch!” but no sound comes out of my mouth.
I look up to see what has bitten me; it’s a glow-in-the-dark bee. I’ve never seen a bee like that. And I’ve been stung by bees before. This felt much worse. I moan in pain, but again, no sound comes out.
Did I lose my voice?
I try to talk, sing, or shout. But nothing happens. Yup, my voice is gone. I look at the bee hovering over me. It stole my voice.
I chase it around hoping, but it’s a fast little pest. I try to swat at it, but it dodges me and dives into the cave. So much for avoiding the dark hole.
The cave has the stench of decay. Rodents sweep across my feet as I enter. The only light is daylight, and the deeper inside the cave I get, the less light there is. I really don’t want to keep going. I hear strange animal sounds and feel movement all around me. The last thing I want to do is keep going deeper inside the cave, but I need my voice.
The last drop of daylight is fading from the depths of the cave. Everything in me wants to run out, but I remind myself to focus on finding the bee. Something swoops down from the roof of the cave and cuts through the air. I can just make out its shadowy form—a bat!
Bats! Really? Argh!
I manage to wave it away, but I don’t know if there are more on the ceiling. Luckily, I spot the glowing bee as it flies toward the corner of the cave. I follow just in time to watch it land—in the nest of sleeping bats!
I look around for something to c
atch the bee before it flies away. I take out the clear tube Madam Monday gave me to contain the snail. I climb onto a large stone and reach as far as I can. I am only inches away from the bee. All I have to do is trap it under the vial without waking up the bats.
I’ve almost got it; I just need one more inch—but I tumble off the rock and down to the ground. That spooks the bee and wakes the bats—all the bats. The cave is flooded with the wild creatures. They fly angrily toward me as they try to bite my flesh off. I fight them off with everything I have. I don’t care how much it hurts; I won’t leave this stupid cave without my voice.
I spot the bee glowing just below my knee. It’s flying in circles, having a good time. I reach for the tube I dropped when I fell, and just as the bee is about to soar high in the sky again, I trap it between my palm and the clear vial. I take off running toward the exit as the bats swarm overhead.
I make it out to the daylight, take cover behind a tree, and shield my face and head with my arms. I’m still holding the bee in my palm, and it’s stinging me in protest. Finally, the bats fly off, and now it’s just the bee and me.
I bring the clear vial up to my face. I can’t speak, but it knows exactly what I want. The bee has an attitude. It turns its back on me. I show it a stern expression, the one my mom shows when I won’t go to bed. Finally, the bee dims its light. The light forms a small glowing circle. I open the clear vial, and the ball of light comes close to my face. It sinks into my throat and my voice returns. The bee takes off into the air.
“I have a voice! I have a voice!” I shout gleefully. My voice echoes throughout the forest. I look at the stopwatch—I only have two minutes left! Oh no! I have to hurry, or I’ll be stuck here forever.
I’m bruised all over and have a bunch of cuts thanks to my fight with the bats. My body hurts from falling on the ground of the cave, and my right arm is bleeding. I don’t dare to even stop and treat my wounds. There just isn’t enough time. I have to find the last task. But what is it? All I see here are trees, in every direction. What’s the final task?
Something roars so loudly that it causes the ground beneath me to shake. It sounds like . . . No, it can’t be. I turn and come eye to eye with a mammoth jaguar. It’s stark white, with icy blue eyes and jagged fangs. It opens its gaping jaw and roars again. I look to my left. Another one appears. I dare look to my right and see one more jaguar; there’s three of them and only one of me.
“Um . . . any chance you guys are friendly?” They all growl and take off after me. I run through the woods as fast as I can. The tree branches cut through my skin as the wind howls in my ears. My heart is jumping so much that it almost finds its way out of my body. The adrenaline pumping through me makes my whole body shiver. I run and run until I come to the edge of a cliff. It’s a big chasm. There is no way to get to the other side. And below is raging sea and certain death.
“How am I gonna get to the other side?” I shout at the forest, as if expecting it to reply.
Out of nowhere, a bridge appears. It’s missing pieces and looks like it could fall apart at any moment. There are two words written on the wooden steps: “Speak truth.”
I hear the jaguars’ roars behind me. They are coming. I leap onto the bridge just as the animals burst through the forest. I land too hard on the fragile panel, and it splits apart under my feet. I’m falling quickly, plunging to the dark waters below. I remember the two words on the steps.
“I’m afraid,” I shout. And suddenly, a panel appears under my feet. It stops my fall.
“I’ve made a mistake. But I’m a good person. I’m trying.” Three additional panels appear. Soon, an entire bridge forms, allowing me get to the other side. The animals are gone. And although I’m pretty bruised and freaked out, I’m alive. And I have ten seconds to find the snail. I look high and low for the creature but can’t find it. I hate to say it, but I may have failed.
No! You will not fail. You are from a strong family that has endured many painful things. You don’t get to fail, Gabrielle!
“Argh!” I shout into the sky as I lean on the base of the tree nearby. I look at the stopwatch. I have five seconds.
Okay, keep looking.
Four seconds.
I search the ground, the tree, and under the rocks.
Three seconds.
Something tickles my shoulder. I shoo it away.
Two seconds.
Something feels slimy on my shoulder.
“What’s on me?” I shout, frustrated. I look on my shoulder—it’s a snail. No—it’s the snail! I can tell by its rainbow-striped shell.
“Gotcha!” I shout as I grab the snail just as the stopwatch goes off.
Time’s up! The light grows bright, so bright that I have to shield my eyes. When I open my eyes again, I’m back in Madam Monday’s home, with my friends! I hold out the snail and put it in the vial.
“You did it!” Carmen says. We all cheer, and I try to catch my breath. Madam Monday comes over with bottles filled with an oddly colored liquid.
“What is that?” I ask.
“These mixtures will heal you,” she says. “Come, let me apply them to your skin. What happened in there? You look like you were fighting an army!”
“Well, an army of jaguars and bats,” I reply. Carmen is shocked. I put the vial down on the table and start to explain all the things that happened in the forest as Madam Monday treats my cuts.
“No, stop!” Madam Monday shouts suddenly toward the window. We follow her gaze and watch as Rocky runs down the side of the building with our snail.
“Rocky, bring that back! Where are you going?” I shout.
“I made a deal with Lady Lydia. If I bring her this snail, she’ll change me into a rabbit!”
“No! You can’t!” I cry.
“Sorry, guys,” he says. Carmen and I watch in horror as Rocky runs away with our only hope to save my family.
Chapter Seventeen
Friends Like You
WE LOOK FOR ROCKY for the next hour, and he’s nowhere to be found. We even go to the park to see if he’s lurking around there. We come back to Madam Monday’s house looking almost as bad as we feel.
“I hate to pile on, but Lydia sent you a message,” Madam Monday says. She points us toward the writing literally on the wall. It says:
If you want to see your family again, come to the park at midnight. Ready to make a wish.
“She needs to meet tonight because tonight is a full supermoon. That means the moon is at the point in its orbit closest to the earth, and it appears bigger in the sky,” Madam Monday says. “Doing it tonight would allow her unimaginable powers. She will use them to complete her plan to make everyone act, look, and think the same. There will be no more culture or diversity anywhere. You need to stop her before the moon is directly overhead, at midnight.”
“We can’t go without the snail. We won’t have a way to free the kids in the stream,” Carmen says.
“I know, but I have to meet her,” I say. “She has my family. If I don’t go to the park at midnight, there’s no telling what she’ll do.”
“Any luck finding Rocky?” Madam Monday asks.
“Nope.” Carmen sighs.
“He’s gone. We don’t know where,” I admit.
“All this time Rocky’s been working for Lady Lydia? How could he do this to us?” Carmen asks.
“It’s my fault. I should have known that the witch would have spies. All this time he was pretending to be our friend,” I mumble.
Madam Monday pours us two glasses of milk and places a plate of double chocolate chip cookies in front of us. We take the food, but we don’t eat.
“Now, girls, there’s no need to look so devastated,” Madam Monday says.
“But Rocky lied to us,” I say. “He tricked us into thinking he was our friend. And we fell for it. We fell for the whole act!”
“I have a feeling Rocky hasn’t had a lot of friends in his life,” Madam Monday replies. “He made this deal with Lydia so that
he could be loved and wanted. He thought he could do that as a rabbit. But then he found you two. And you loved him for who he was. You didn’t ask that he be someone else. That’s called acceptance. And it’s a wonderful gift to give to someone. I have a feeling Rocky wasn’t expecting to love you all so much. But he does. And maybe, in the end, he’ll do the right thing.”
“But what if he doesn’t? Now how will we stop Lady Lydia?” I ask.
“Witch law forbids me from getting in the way, since the deal that was made is between you and Lydia. But I can arm you with what I have. This might help.”
She waves her hand and creates musical notes in the air. We do as she orders and watch as the notes seep into the radio on the counter.
“What was that?” Carmen says.
“That’s called a slumber song,” Madam Monday replies. “It can put the most powerful of beings to sleep.”
“So we play it for Lady Lydia, and she falls asleep?” Carmen asks.
“Yes—although the more powerful she is, the harder it will be to keep her asleep.”
“Won’t we fall asleep too?” I ask.
“No. The song only works on witches. So as soon as she drifts off, you have to tie her up. Then find the vial with the snail to set the other kids in the stream free.”
“But after Rocky gives her the vial with the snail, won’t she destroy it?” I ask.
“No, not Lydia. She’ll keep the vial close because she can use it later, should another witch challenge her. Also, she won’t trust anyone with it. She’ll most likely carry it with her.”
“So the song will put her to sleep, and then we try to take the vial off her. Got it,” Carmen says.
“If you can free the kids in the stream, that might free your family too,” Madam Monday says. “And if not, it will at the very least make Lydia weak enough to force her to tell you where she’s keeping them.”
“We can do it. We just need to trick Lady Lydia into letting us play the song,” I tell myself. Then Madam Monday hands over the only book ever written about Lady Lydia.
“We’re not going to be able to learn all this info about Lady Lydia before our meeting tonight,” I tell her.