Mini, for all her worries about allergies and magical bees, was brave.
Aru’s face heated. Compared to Mini, she wasn’t brave at all.
“Well, they are who you say they are!” said the makara. “I hope the Council trusts me.”
“Me too,” Boo harrumphed. “I never lie.”
Aru could not say the same for herself.
Mini was staring at Aru. “You lit the lamp?”
Here comes the blame.
“I know ithadto happen,” said Mini hurriedly, as if she’d offended Aru. “My mom told me that the Sleeper was always destined to try to fight us. Don’t worry, I’m not mad. There was no way you could’ve known what that lamp would do.”
That was true, but still…Aruhadknown that she wasn’t supposed to light it. The problem was, her mom had never told herwhy. So Aru had thought it was just one of those generic warnings parents gave to kids, likeDon’t go outside without sunscreen or you’ll burn!Or, as the woman who ran the local Hindu temple’s summer day camp liked to remind Aru:Don’t go outside without sunscreen or you’ll get darker and won’t find a husband!Until it happened, who cared? Aru had never gotten sunburned, and she really didn’t need to find a husband at age twelve.
But there wasn’t any protective lotion when it came to demons. It all boiled down to one thing: she wasn’t supposed to light the lamp, and yet she had. The fact that it had been “destined” to happen didn’t really absolve her of blame. Aru’s guilt was beginning to roil in her stomach. To the point where she thought she might throw up.
A bright moth hovered in front of Aru and Mini and Boo. Its wings grew, and light curled through the air, like calligraphy made of starlight. The wings stretched and unfurled until the girls and bird were completely enfolded.
“Good-bye, inedible tiny humans and Subala!” called the makara, no longer visible to them. “May all the doors you face in life swing open and never smack you in the butt as they close!”
The moth faded away,and they found themselves in an open-air room. No wonder it was called the Court of the Sky. Above them, the sky was marbled with clouds. The walls were ribbons of shimmering light. Delicate music laced the air. The space had that deliciously ripe aroma of the earth right after a summer thunderstorm. Aru wished the world smelled like thisallthe time. Like honey and mint and bright green growing things.
Beside her, Mini groaned, clutching her stomach. “Did I ever tell you I have acrophobia?”
“You’re scared of spiders?”
“No! That’sarachnophobia. I’m scared of heights!”
“Heights?”
Aru looked down. And then she wished she hadn’t. There was a reason it seemed like they were hovering above the earth: they were.
Beneath her feet were two cloudy wisps. And beneath those…averylong fall through a lot of empty sky.
“Don’t take off those cloud slippers,” said Boo, flapping beside them. “That’d be quite unfortunate.”
Mini whimpered. “This is where the Council meets?”
“They gather on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and during full moons and new moons, and also for the season premiere and finale ofGame of Thrones.”
Speaking of thrones…Seven huge royal-looking chairs floated around them. All the thrones were made of gold. Except one, outside the circle, that was tarnished and rusty. She could only make out the lettersU-A-L-Aprinted beneath it.
The other names were easier to read. As she sounded them out, Aru gasped. She recognized them from the stories she’d heard and the artifacts her mom had acquired for the museum.
There was Urvashi theapsara, the celestial singer and dancer who was said to be unmatched in beauty. Then there was monkey-faced Hanuman, the trickster who had famously helped the god Rama in his fight against the demon king. There were other names, too. Names like Uloopi and Surasa, the serpent queens; the bear king, Jambavan; and Kubera, the Lord of Wealth. These Guardians were immortal and worthy of worship, but they were often considered separate from the main league of gods and goddesses.
When Boo had mentioned a council, Aru had imagined stern summer camp counselors…not the very people from the myths and tales that had been crammed into her head since she was a toddler. Urvashi was, like, a heavenly nymph queen, and Hanuman, who was the son of the god of the wind, was a powerful demigod.
Now Arureallywished she were not wearing Spider-Man pajamas. It was like some horrible nightmare where she was walking the red carpet of a fancy movie premiere in an aluminum-foil hat and rubber-duckie rain boots, andwhy was this happening to her?
Aru turned to Mini. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad do I look? Ten beingburn your clothes.”
“But then you wouldn’t be wearing anything!” said Mini, horrified.
“So what you’re saying is that I look horrible, but the alternative would be much worse?”
