I flashed a weary smile before hoisting myself up.
Kamala reared onto her hind legs and broke into a run. My hair, still damp from Kamala’s mouth, whipped about my face. I flattened against her back and tried to glimpse our surroundings, but all I saw was a blur of valleys that looked more dead than alive. A strange smell filled my senses, of sulfur and water.
“Where are we going?” I managed to choke out.
“You want to cross into the land of the Otherworld, but it is a guarded thing, full of anger,” responded Kamala. “To do anything, you must receive the permission of its guardian. We must get to the ocean.”
Ocean? My eyes widened.
Lashing wind burned my eyes. Eventually, we began to climb over a gray valley before arriving at the rim of a great ocean. My legs ached as I dismounted and my lungs filled with the briny air of the sea. Tall waves rolled toward us like watery giants, white crests like crowns. A split sky stretched over the ocean—half-night, half-day.
Kamala nudged a conch shell toward me. “Make no sound, merely hold it to your lips.”
I did as I was told and the crashing waves froze.
20
THE CLOUD BRIDGE
Something dark appeared beneath the surface of the waves. The waves crashed over the spot repeatedly, unearthing two pale mounds in the water.
“What is that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice still.
Hadn’t I had enough of monsters? I was already standing next to a flesh-eating demon.
“Airavata,” said Kamala. “Tricky elephant. He likes to knit.”
“What does he knit?”
“Clouds.”
“Oh.”
Kamala ignored me and stared with her milky eyes at the white piles in the sea. I followed her gaze, my mouth nearly dropping open. What I had thought were small hillocks of stone were Airavata’s gigantic white ears. He rose out of the waves, water trailing through his wrinkled trunk and pooling along the dents of his back. I had never seen an elephant like Airavata. Across his tusks lay a thin cloud and in his trunk he carried an ivory comb. As Airavata combed the cloud, out drifted dark puffs of air that glinted with lightning. His eyes were filled with warmth and he flapped his ears in greeting. Artfully looping his trunk around the cloud, he unhooked it from his tusks and placed the comb and cloud onto his back.
“And what is this?” asked Airavata, leaning forward. His voice was rich and deep, streaked with friendliness and a wizened timber. “A demon near my waters and someone who smells of secrets.”
Kamala turned to me, whispering, “Which one am I?”
“The person full of secrets,” I muttered.
Kamala whinnied. “Oh, I hope you are a queen. You are funny. Funny, funny. What does funny taste like?” She paused. “Maybe I hope you are not a queen. I would like to taste funny.”
“I am certain you do.” I smirked before turning to Airavata. “We seek passage to the Otherworld, to the Night Bazaar.”
“Strange place. Stranger still, with chaos alive and angry.”
I swallowed nervously, my thoughts jumping to Amar. Where was he? Was he safe?
“What do you mean?”
“It means that I am spinning storm clouds of late,” said Airavata slowly. He waved his trunk toward a dark cloud that darted around his legs.
“Will you let me pass? I have to get there.”
Airavata stared, before bowing his head. “No.”
“No?” I repeated dumbly. “You don’t understand, Ineedto be there. I need to speak with the Dharma Raja.I need to get back to—”
