Uloopi’s gaze turned sly. “Of course! But men can be fools. And so it was not the Sun god who discovered the deception, but the child that the Lady Saranyu had left behind. The Shadow Wife bore her own children from the Sun god. And she favored them above Lady Saranyu’s child.”
“What happened?”
Uloopi’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “The child knew and told the Sun god. He was furious and went out into the world to bring back the Lady Saranyu.”
“And the child?”
“Cursed by the Shadow Wife.”
“With what?”
“My friend,thatis the question. No one knows.”
“What happened to the Sun god?”
“He ended up with two wives.”
I shook my head. “And the child?”
“I have no mind to askhimhow he’s faring since that incident.”
“It’s a boy? Who—”
Uloopi jumped back, smiling. “Ah! Look who it is. The Jewel of the Heavens.”
Nritti floated down from the air and sank into a graceful curtsy. “I’ve come to pay my respects to the Terror of the Deep.”
“Is that what they call me?” asked Uloopi, her brows creasing. She smiled. “I love it.”
“Of course you do, monster.”
Uloopi stuck her tongue out. I tossed her a dream fruit, and she caught it with one hand. Nritti summoned a cloud and fell back into it like it was a bed, while Uloopi settled into her emerald coils. I leaned against the table where I’d sold dream fruit and surveyed the Night Bazaar. The three of us went through the same ritual at the end of every day. We’d huddle together, watch the beings, and recite all the things about our day that had gone right and wrong.
Nritti took a deep breath. “Something happened today.”
“The blind princeling,” Uloopi said, not taking her eyes off the sky. She had an obsession with the sky, perhaps because she saw so little of it in her sea palace.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Vanaj,” she said. Sighed, rather. She exhaled his name like it was something precious and teased out of her.
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you have anything to drink?”
In answer, she swatted my arm. “No. We talked for a long time.”
“Talked.That’s a modest euphemism,” said Uloopi. “And for a long time you say? My, my.”
“Don’t be crude.”
“Too late for that.” I smiled. She seemed happy, and my heart welled in happiness for her. Nritti was kind and giving. She deserved joy. “You seem smitten.”
“Perhaps a little.”
“I’m sure he feels the same.”
She smiled. “I hope so.”
Uloopi spent the next hour mercilessly teasing Nritti, while I tried not to laugh. I kept fighting the urge to tell them about the Dharma Raja. But I was still in disbelief. And part of me didn’t want to reveal this secret. I didn’t want it prized apart and examined under Uloopi’s harsh humor, or poked and prodded by Nritti’s questioning. So I kept silent.
