I stood in front of the metal door in Adri’s mind, that locked away his memories of Samaan Bay. I threw myself on the round vault-like handle, but it didn’t move an inch.
“No!” Adri rushed up to me and tried to push me away.
I fought him tooth and nail.
“Zo, leave now! You shouldn’t be here.”
He tried to keep me away from the door with his long arms, while making sure not to hurt me.
Then I remembered the keywords.
“Lila, Sarun, Mai, Pa!” I yelled as Adri begged me to stop.
Looking straight into his eyes, I shouted. “Zo!” 272
The door cracked open, and some memories flew out like mist. Then it slammed shut again like before.
I rushed over to the memories that had escaped, while Adri sank down to the floor.
“Why are you doing this?” he whispered. “Some things I want to forget.”
“Like what?” I peered into the memory in front of me.
Adri and his parents climbed into a small motorboat at a wooden jetty. His dad untied the boat and they took off. I recognised the old jetty and rocky beach at Samaan Bay. I saw Adri’s silver water-shoes and green swimming trunks. He and his parents all had bald heads: their hair shaved and donated to celebrate his mum’s remission.
I had been in this memory before, when Adri and I first met, but never this early in their boat-ride. I’d only seen when the trip was already underway, just before the accident caused by the Council.
Now I could tell why Adri wanted this memory to stay locked away …
He was quarreling with his parents, arguing about their move to the U.S.
“We did it for you too!” his dad pleaded. 273
Adri shouted, “But I don’t want this! I don’t want to stay there. Now that Mum’s well, we can come back to stay. I want to come home. Back to Trinidad!”
I could feel the rage rise off him like heat. Beneath it was a gaping loneliness that I recognised as well.
“What about your new friends?” his mother asked, worry lining her face.
“I have no friends,” Adri screamed. “I have no one. But what would you know? You’re never around!”
She stared at him, pale.
He looked out at the sea. “I’m sorry Mai. I know you’ve been sick. It’s just …”
His dad steered the boat sharply back toward shore. “Okay Adri, that’s enough. Let’s head back, have something to eat, and talk through this calmly.”
“No!” Adri insisted. “We’ve come this far. I want to see the cove. Let’s keep going.”
“You sure?” his mum asked quietly, looking at his dad. “Yes.” Adri snapped. “We’re here, right?” His head dropped. “Who knows when we’ll be here again.”
“Okay,” his dad sighed. “Let’s go.”
The scene froze. Adri stood next to me in his memory, dressed in the khaki overalls we’d been 274given back at the Ostrich Labs.
“You see,” he cried, clenching his fists. “It was me! My fault they ended up in the accident. My fault they were taken by the Council. They wanted to go back to shore, but I said no. And one of the last things I did was fight with them …”
The agony on his face was almost too much to bear.
So that’s why he’d been willing to sacrifice us all for his parents. Not just out of love, but out of guilt.
“Adri,” I murmured. “It’s not your fault.”
He wasn’t listening. Other memories of his parents swung across his mind. I caught glimpses of his family celebrating each birthday with homegrown flowers, feasts of Punjabi and Parsi dishes, and books carefully chosen as gifts.
I saw them at Las Cuevas beach together, swatting sandflies and running, screeching, into the calm green water, cold at first until his mother sapped his head.
I saw filmi movie nights strewn with popcorn and handsewn blankets, when his dad broke out into off-key singing, and they pushed the chairs aside for a living-room dance party.
There were moments filled with so much love and joy, it hit me again how much Adri must miss them. 275
And while he missed his parents, I missed him. Somewhere behind that locked door was his memory of me and our time in Samaan Bay; of the friendship we’d built together. If I could just get it open, get him to remember me fully, I could stop him from fighting me and the others. I could get him to work together with us to get out of this test and work out a plan to free his parents, the better way.
My way was better … right?
As Adri stared at the rolling memories of his family, I stifled my own guilt.
I pushed hard against the door to Adri’s memories that the Council had locked away, but it wouldn’t open. It felt like I was banging on an immovable wall. No matter how hard I pushed, it wouldn’t give way.
Even saying the keywords this time didn’t work. It wasn’t just what the Council had done. Adri had locked these memories away too.
A feeling of hopelessness washed over me.
Tears ran down Adri’s face as he stared at the memories of his parents. He really was willing to give up anything to be with them again, even a part of himself. I could tell that he loved them so much. At the same time, they loved him too – their only 276son. What wouldn’t they give to free him from this prison?
It was then that I remembered something Da had always taught me about love. “For God so loved the world,” he would quote, “that he gave His only Son …”
That was it … Giving was one of the things that grew from love; not forcing Adri to do what I wanted him to do.
I took a deep breath and turned away from the locked door to face my friend.
Instead of trying to force the door open and unlock his lost memories, I began to share my memories with him.
I showed him camping trips with my Da: seeing manatee pop their fat, grey, bald heads just above the water, as we rode a boat through the Nariva Swamp. I shared the smell of pine cones, earth, and wet leaves, as Da and I hiked through the Trinity Hills, watching a family of quenk go down to the river for a drink. A flock of green and yellow parrots squawked goodnight in the trees. Da and I sat by the campfire we’d built, as sparks flew upward, singing songs and telling stories until the stars shone brighter 277than hundreds of fireflies overhead.
I showed Adri evenings when Jake read aloud to Baby Tayo, his small face shifting from excited to amazed as he heard tales of faraway wonders. On the old table nearby, carved with my first attempts at writing, Mum taught me the art of blending paint. I could still see the new colours emerging from the old; feel the soft brush strokes on paper. I showed him how the paint seemed to move under my mother’s hands, as if gifted with its own kind of life.
Then I showed Adri my memories of us in the forest, so many moons ago …Tough things too. Like how impatient I’d been with him on our trek through the woods; how scared I’d been at the thought of even trying to find his parents and how much I had just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, away from the strange creatures that were hunting us.
I showed him how I’d hidden my terror with anger and acting like I knew what to do, when really, I’d been just as lost as he was.
I took him back to the night in the samaan tree when we’d finally talked. He had told me about his mum fighting cancer, and I’d told him how much I missed Da since my parents’ divorce. As we’d shared 278the parts of ourselves that we thought made us weak, that was when we’d truly become friends.
Then I showed him the pit we’d found ourselves in days later, hanging over the Flesh-skinner I’d learned to fear. How when I was too tired to fight anymore, when I’d given up and begged him to leave me, he hadn’t let go, but had helped me get free and find the rope to climb to safety.
Now it was my turn to return the favour.
I felt the power of those memories wash over me. As I shared them with Adri, his face began to change. A grief that was hardening in him like concrete, began to melt away.
Suddenly, next to us, the door to his memories began to glow, like a small spark lit in a dark place.
Adri stood slowly and turned to face me, looking at my memories in that light.
Before either of us could speak, the door to his locked memories flew open with a deafening blast, its fragments flying toward us like shrapnel.
I grabbed him but before we could dive out of the way, the fragments changed into batimamselles: glinting multicoloured dragonflies that flew toward us on translucent wings. 279
Behind them, Adri’s memories rushed like water through the room, with all the emotions that came with them – sadness, fear, longing, and joy. I held my breath as the wave of memories washed over us and out to reclaim their rightful places in his mind.
Finally, we both took a deep breath. A clean scent wafted through his mind like freshly washed clothes, or a room finally open to sunlight and air.
Adri looked at me and laughed: a loud belly-laugh.
His face returned to some of the boyishness it once had, mixed with the lessons he’d learned in the past year.
“Zo,” he hugged me, “I remember! I remember it all!”
I searched his eyes and saw our friendship alive there again, along with everything Adri had chosen before and since: the journey that only he could choose.
He flinched as pain passed over his face. “I’m so sorry for what I did Zo … what I’ve been doing.”
I raised one hand to stop him.
“I know,” I smiled through tears. “Me too.”
I released him and dropped out of his mind.
Immediately, we were back in Dragon Hall, with 280rows of golden doors on either side. I was still frozen in place by the net, along with Luna and the others. Adri stood looking at me.
He pressed the button and the freeze-net rattled off us and rolled back up into the device in his hand. He put it down on the floor and straightened up slowly with his head high and hands at his side.
The others shook themselves, as their limbs came back to life.
Martí opened her eyes slowly.
“You okay?” Shui Li asked softly, cradling her head.
“Yes,” she nodded, squeezing his hand. “Claro.”
Luna tensed, about to lunge toward Adri, when he stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m sorry, Luna! I’m sorry, all of you.” He raised his empty hands.
Luna scanned him with narrowed eyes, searching for the truth.
Her mouth opened slightly, but before she could say a word, Bogle piped up: “Zo. What are you doing?”
He’d seen me move. It was now or never.
I turned and threw myself toward the door at the end of the hall. 281
Adri stared at me in shock.
Bogle and Luna flung themselves after me, but somehow Esme was closer.
“Stop her Es!” Luna screamed.
“No Lu,” I heard Esme say firmly. “I’m going back to get Kendi.”
After what had happened with her parents, she would never again use her power to compel others. Not even now.
I had a head start and despite Luna and Bogle’s speed, the freeze-net had made all our limbs weak.
With one more push, I forced myself forward and hit the handle of the last door with one hand. The door-handle was a diamond-scaled dragon with ruby-red teeth, fighting a lion with kind eyes and a mane like the sun.
I saw them in slow-motion. Which one would win?
Then the door opened, and I was through.