Attack!

Mini asked if they could avoid going through the clouds, because she didn’t want to catch a cold.

The mounts dutifully lowered themselves, speeding closer to the surfaces instead. Right now, they were racing across the Atlantic Ocean. The hooves of the seven-headed horse hardly skimmed the waves.

Beside Aru, Mini screeched. “Is that a shark?”

Aru only had a second to glance back and see the dorsal fin that had scraped Mini’s ankle.

“Nope. Dolphin,” said Aru.

It had definitely been a shark. Shark dorsal fins stood up straight, and dolphin fins were curved back. Aru had learned that from a movie. But Mini didn’t need to know.

Once the waves were behind them, still and silent landscapes loomed ahead. Everything was frozen. As they got closer to Atlanta, they rose higher into the air so that they wouldn’t bump into buildings. Aru could make out the Atlanta skyline, like the Westin Peachtree Plaza and the Georgia-Pacific Tower. They flew toward the sunset, and Aru had never found her city more beautiful than in this late evening light, all gilded and glittering, with polished buildings so tall and sharp they might have served to pin the stars into place when night fell. Traffic was at a standstill. But Aru was used to that. After all, it was Atlanta.

Before long, they were standing at the entrance of the museum.

“Whoa,” said Mini as she slid down from the back of the water buffalo. “This is where you live?”

Aru felt a weird burst of pride. This was where she lived. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t want the private island or the mansion so big you could get lost in it. She didn’t want to live anywhere else but here, with her mom. Her thawed, happy, and healthy mom.

One of the divine vehicles, the golden tiger with startlingly long claws, walked up to the door and pawed it. The entrance swung open, and all of them flooded inside.

Aru’s heart pinched when she reached the Hall of the Gods. She was fully expecting to find what she saw there, but that didn’t make it any easier. Her mother hadn’t moved from her frozen spot. Her hair still fanned around her face. Her eyes remained wide with panic.

But even though she looked the same as before, Aru couldn’t help but see her differently. She kept picturing the woman from the Pool of the Past, the woman who had given up so much just to keep Aru safe.

Aru ran up to her and threw her arms around her waist. She refused to cry, but she may have sniffled a couple times. She thought of what her mom had said to the Sleeper: I’ll find an answer. I’ll examine every ancient site, read every treatise. And I will find a way to free both you and Aru. I promise.

Every time her mom had left…it was because she loved her.

“I love you, too,” Aru said.

And then she pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Do you want a tissue? Er, never mind…” said Mini.

The mounts stood around them, looking like a terrifying bunch. The lion bared its teeth. The tiger sharpened its claws on the stone elephant. Rude!

“We await your command, Pandava,” said the horse.

Command? Aru stuffed her hands into her pockets. She took a deep breath. Like her, Arjuna had seen the world differently than most. If there was one thing that had survived all those reincarnation cycles, it was the imagination they shared. And now it was time to use it.

“Mini, can the Death Danda make an illusion that looks like a human being?”

Mini nodded. “I think so.”

“Okay, good. Because we’re going to do something a little strange….”

Half an hour later, the only thing outside that proved not to be frozen was the sun. It had sunk completely. The museum was pitch-black except for the bits of light Aru had been able to convince Vajra to spit out. Now those lights hovered in the air.

The mounts were either pacing or playing. The crocodile was posing next to the stone makara, glancing at the statue and grinning as if to say Hey guys! Look! Look! It’s me! And, as it turned out, all cats—even celestial ones—were highly intrigued by boxes. The tiger kept sticking its head in one of the wooden crates before awkwardly trying to cram its whole body into the space. Whenever it saw Aru looking, it would stop and lick its front paw self-consciously. Aru was grateful to it; earlier, the tiger had gently picked up her frozen mother in his mouth and placed her in her bedroom, so she was out of harm’s way. Two mounts had gone into the Hall of the Gods solely to protect the frozen forms of Poppy, Arielle, and Burton.

For the umpteenth time that evening, Aru glanced at her palm, watching the symbol fade….

“It’s time to summon him,” said Aru. “Ready?”

The mounts molded back into the shadows, disappearing completely. Just as Aru had planned.

Mini gripped the danda. “Ready.”

Aru faced the closed museum doors and said loudly into the dark:

“Sleeper, we, the daughters of Lord Indra and the Dharma Raja, summon you!”

For emphasis, Mini hit the floor with the danda. A couple moments passed. Then a full minute. Mini’s shoulders dropped.

“How are we going to know when he’s here? Is there going to be a sign or something? Like maybe the earth will split down the middle and he’ll pop up?”

“He’s a demon, Mini, not a mole.”

“What if we’re wrong and we’re stuck here waiting all night? There’s got to be a sign, something—”

The door to the hall, which had been closed tightly, was flung open. It smacked into the wall. If this were a movie, there would have been a loud clap of thunder outside, too. But it was real life, and real life doesn’t always sound like it should.

Aru thought the Sleeper would be standing in the doorway.

But it wasn’t him. It was something far worse. A dozen or so demons with blood-spattered jaws peered through the entrance. The horns on top of their heads looked like they’d just been sharpened. They sniffed the air, licking their lips. The whole front wall of the hall fell down like a domino.

“There’s your sign,” said Aru.

She refused to let herself be scared. But her hands shook, and her mouth felt suddenly dry.

“I warned you,” called a voice.

The Sleeper stepped through the crowd of demons.

He looked like a man, and also not like one. His eyes were no longer round and dark like in the vision from the Pool of the Past. Instead, they were slitted and gem-bright, like a cat’s eyes gone narrow with fury. When he smiled, small tusks curled out from his bottom lip.

“Strange choice of location,” sneered the Sleeper. “Although perhaps predictable for a little girl who needs her mommy. If you thought coming back here would dissuade me, you were wrong.”

A small birdcage swung from his hands. The pigeon inside began to shout and hop. Boo! He was okay!

“What are you two doing?” shouted Boo the moment he saw Aru and Mini. “Get out! Go!”

Mini locked her legs, swinging the Death Danda over her shoulder as if it were a baseball bat.

“Oh gods,” moaned Boo. He flapped in his cage. “I can’t look.”

“Sleeper! We’re not going to let you go through with this,” warned Mini.

“I’m bored already,” the Sleeper yawned.

Then he opened his hand. From his palm, a ribbon of black spilled out, snaking across the floor and seeping into the walls. It was the same horribly familiar starry black that had nearly strangled Aru. She tried to dodge it, but the enchanted muck yanked her back, flinging her and Mini to the wall so that they were like bugs trapped on flypaper. Keep calm, Shah. Aru had expected this. In fact, she’d banked on him acting like this.

“Don’t you understand, little ones?” asked the Sleeper. “You’re not worthy opponents for me. You would be far too easy to defeat. In fact, you’re not worthy of noticing at all. You might think you’re clever for freeing those vehicles, but I’ll have them back in a cage in no time.”

There it was. Those words. Little ones. Not worthy.

But Aru was beginning to think that, maybe, being overlooked or considered different wasn’t always a bad thing. In social studies class, she had learned that it was a good thing for warriors to be left-handed. In ancient Rome, the gladiators who won the most were the ones who were left-handed. They had the element of surprise on their side, because people only defended themselves from a right-handed attack.

I hope you like surprises, thought Aru.

She and Mini had rehearsed what they would do. Now it was time to put it into action.

Mini held her gaze. Her face looked pale, but she was still smiling hopefully. Aru felt that strange humming buzz once more, the same thrum she’d experienced when they’d fought together in the library. They were connected to one another’s thoughts when they were in combat.

The Sleeper hadn’t bothered to tie up their hands. Why? Because he didn’t think they could do anything that would harm him.

He stepped over the threshold of the front door. The demons spread out around him, taking up all the space in the museum lobby. Aru could feel an invisible wind stirring against the back of her neck. Just a few steps farther, she said silently. He stepped farther.

Aru gave the signal to Mini. Her sister nodded.

Mini opened her compact, and a bit of light seeped out. From there, an illusion of Aru’s mother stepped out into the Hall of the Gods. She was still beautiful, Aru thought, as she stared at the vision. The Sleeper stopped walking. His face became pinched, haunted.

“I know the truth about you,” said the illusion.

The Sleeper dropped the cage holding Boo, and the door opened. The pigeon flew out, rushing straight to Aru and Mini. He started pecking at the shadows that had them pinned to the wall. Aru pried herself loose.

“Krithika?” asked the Sleeper, his voice hoarse. “How…? I thought—”

“I just want to talk,” said the vision of her mother.

“Talk?” repeated the Sleeper. “After all this time, you just want to talk? That’s simply not good enough.”

He lunged forward.

And stepped right into the trap that Aru and Mini had laid.

The Sleeper hadn’t noticed the small chalk circle she had drawn in the middle of floor. And walking into it didn’t just mean that he was in the center of the room.

He was in the center of a circle of every single one of the celestial mounts.

The golden tiger prowled out of the wall, her muzzle wrinkled in a snarl. The peacock’s feathers glittered menacingly. The water buffalo began to paw the ground.

The seven-headed horse turned to Aru.

The Sleeper had only a second to look startled, eyes wide and confused, before Aru shouted, “ATTACK!”