“The Ashvins, Nasatya and Dasra.”
Two statues with the heads of horses glowed. They were the gods of sunrise and sunset, and medicine. Their Pandava sons were also twins. Nakula the Beautiful and Sahadeva the Wise.
Definitely would not mind being known for beauty, thought Aru. She still had some misgivings about the whole wisdom thing.
Mini and Aru paid their respects to each. When the final pranama was done, the two of them stood back-to-back within the circle of gods. Above her, Aru heard the impatient hissing of the arrows. They were trembling, not like a leaf that’s about to fall from a branch, but like some sort of rabid beast that’s legitimatelytremblingwith excitement over tearing you apart. Too late, Aru remembered Boo’s “reassurance” that the arrows wouldn’t actually hit them until they had finished their pranama.
They’d definitely finished.
A sharp sound cut the air, as if someone had dropped a handful of sewing needles. An arrow landed near Aru’s foot. Mini screamed.
A few more arrows pelted the ground. Not all at once. No, that would be too easy.
It was as if someone was tempting the gods:Either of these kids striking your fancy? Wanna save one? Here, I’ll give you a second to think.
Aru threw up her hands, trying to see through the lace of her fingers.
“Move!” screamed Mini, attempting to shove Aru out of the circle of statues.
Aru teetered backward. When she looked at where she’d been standing, she saw a handful of arrows stuck in the air.
“Stay calm!” shouted Boo.
“Who can stay calm when arrows are being shot at them?!” she screamed.
“A god!” said Boo.
“But we’re not gods!” said Mini.
“Ah. Good point!”
Mini hefted her backpack and scuttled closer to Aru. “We have to hide,” she hissed.
But what was the point of that? The arrows would find them regardless. Aru peered up at the statues and their cold, impassive faces.Don’t they care?Aru tried to pry off one of the statue’s toes to hurl it back at the arrows. Not that that would do anything, but at least it wouldfeeluseful. But the stone didn’t yield.
More arrows landed in front of her. One was an inch from her pinkie. Another whispered past her ear. Now the arrows looked like a colony of bats.
“This is it,” moaned Mini, holding up her backpack. She pressed herself tightly against Vayu’s stone legs.
Aru braced herself.
The arrow points were spinning toward her, blowing wind against her face.
Aru flung out her hand, eyes pinched closed. “STOP!”
The whistling wind went silent. Aru blinked open. Her hand was still extended. For a moment she wondered whethershehad stopped the arrows herself. But then she saw what was protecting her: a net. It crackled and shimmered as if its mesh were made out of…out of bolts of lightning.
Her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. She was floating, haloed by light. At that moment she had the most absurd desire to do two things:
Sing the “Circle of Life” song fromThe Lion King.
Throw up.
Being dangled by an unseen force? Yep, no thanks. But then she looked around and realized the arrows had vanished. Also, the statues had changed positions. Before, she had been leaning against the god of the winds. But now it was Indra, the god of thunder, who looked down at her. His face was still made of stone. But his expression had changed from indifferent to…amused. As if he had just realized who Aru was.
His daughter.
She, Aru Shah, was the daughter of Indra, king of the heavens.
