Mini held up the compact for Aru to see:MOVE.
Aru spelled out the right response in her head and then shouted it as they walked through the door:“Edur!”
Inside the room, a kind-eyed man with a bulbous nose sat at a desk. He reminded Aru a little bit of her school principal at Augustus Day. Mr. Cobb sometimes subbed for their Social Studies teacher, and he always managed to slip in a story about the Vietnam War, even when their class unit was on ancient civilizations.
The man stared at them. On his desk, seven miniature versions of himself ran back and forth carrying pens and stacks of paper. They argued among themselves.
“Report, please,” said the man. “You should have received one upon expiration.”
Mini inhaled sharply. “Dad?”
The seven miniature men stopped running and stared at Mini.
He was unfazed. “You don’t have my nose, so I don’t think so…” he said. “Plus, I think one of my wives would have told me. But there is an ultimate test.” He coughed loudly. “Yesterday, I bought eggs at a human grocery store. The cashier asked me if I wanted them in a separate bag. I told her, ‘No! Leave them in their shells!’”
Mini blinked. Aru felt a rush of pity for this man’s children.
The man sniffed. “Nothing? Not even a smile? Well, then, that settles it. All my offspring have my nose and sense of humor.” He chuckled. “I must say, though, that’s a rather clever ploy to get out of death, claiming to be my child.” He turned to one of his tiny selves. “Write that one down for my memoir!” Then he turned back to Aru and Mini. “Now, how about those records?”
“We don’t have any,” said Aru.
“Of course you do. You’re dead, aren’t you?”
“Well, about that—” said Mini. She was waving her hand, ready to explain their strange situation, when the compact fell from her palm and landed on the desk with a loudthunk.
The man leaned over to take a look. All seven miniature versions of him dropped what they were holding and raced to the compact.
Aru scanned the table and saw a small brass plaque that read:CHITRIGUPTA. There was also a mug that read:FOURTEEN WORLDS’ BEST DAD. Behind him were bookcases and file cabinets and mountains upon mountains of paperwork. It took a moment for Aru to remember Chitrigupta from the stories. He was the one who kept a record of everything a soul had ever done, both good and bad. This was whykarmamattered. Her mom used to say,Chitrigupta will see and write down everything.
Aru wasn’t sure she believed in karma.What goes around comes aroundsounded suspiciously convenient to her. But the one time she’d saidKarma isn’t real, she’d walked outside and a bird had pooped on her head. So who knew?
“Where did you get the mirror, child?” asked Chitrigupta.
Most adults would have gone straight to accusing a kid of stealing. But not Chitrigupta. Aru liked that.
“It was given to me during the Claiming.”
“Theclaiming…Wait.TheClaiming?” Chitrigupta’s eyes widened. “I don’t think there’s been a Claiming since…” He rose from his chair. “Bring up the records!”
The room spun into chaos. Aru and Mini stepped back as the seven miniature versions of Chitrigupta jumped onto him and disappeared. He slumped back into his chair, and his eyes glazed over. Then they flashed and crackled, and words streamed across his gaze.
When the text finished scrolling, he leaned forward again. Tears shone in his eyes. “Never been a girl before,” he said, looking between Mini and Aru. “How unusual…”
Aru braced herself, waiting to hear the usual lines that they couldn’t possibly be heroes, or that they were too weak, too young, or too…girly.
“And how refreshing!” he said. His shirt changed to say:THIS IS WHAT A FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE. “Upend the patriarchy! R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Et cetera, et cetera. And you got past Ek and Do, too. Well done, well done.”
Mini brightened. “So can you help us? We need to wake up the celestial weapons and then we have to go to the Pool of the Past to find out how to stop the Sleeper from ending Time forever.”
“Oh, that does sound dire,” said Chitrigupta. He reached for his mug and sipped from it. “Sadly, I’m not allowed to help. Not even the Dharma Raja could help you, little ones.”
Mini turned red. “Does he…does he know we’re here?” she asked.
“Undoubtedly.”
“Doesn’t he want to…I dunno…meet me?”
At this, Chitrigupta’s face softened. “Oh, child, I’m sure he does. But the truth is, he will eventually meet you one way or another. Your soul is what matters—itis the immortal thing, not the body. The gods no longer get involved with mortal affairs.”
