“One of them said he’d write my name in the stars,” said Nritti. “He was a mortal king, invited to the court of the heavens for a greatyagnahe held honoring the gods.”
“And so…”
“And so he fell off a balcony with a sword in his hand. I think he intended to cut a path through the stars.”
Now it was my turn to laugh.
“Did you catch him?”
“Oh yes. Eventually. But I did let him fall a great deal before I stood up.”
We laughed for a long while, stealing seconds before my evening duties called me from her side.
“Is that why you want to attendTeej? To find a consort and hopefully put an end to all these unwelcome marriage proposals?”
She shrugged, and her hair ornaments chimed delicately.
“I don’t want simply tofindsomeone. I could’ve done that years ago.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want love.”
“Is that bad?”
“Of course not. I want that too.”
It’d been something we’d talked of since we first met. She’d been asked to perform a solo dance for the grand Festival of Lights. I’dbarely started making dream fruit, and the night was so new that it was hardly flecked with stars. She was nervous about practicing in the light, so I conjured shadows for her and we became friends.
“Then I want love,” she said simply. “And I’m willing to believe that I can find it. I’m willing to be brave enough to search for it, even if that means failing.”
“Are you hoping the God of Love will be atTeej? Crouching behind the curtains and stringing his sugarcane bow and arrow of honeybees?”
She laughed. “Will you let me know if you see him?”
“Certainly. I’ll be the one bribing him to make you fall in love with a cow.”
“Not a bull?”
“I prefer the scandal.”
Just then, the clouds in the river began to break apart. The silver trees behind us shivered in wait. The crossover from day to night was complete. I glanced up and saw the faint impression of hoofmarks against the clouds. Ushas—the goddess of dawn—had already driven away her chariot, and magic had eagerly poured back into the world.
We were in the human world, but just barely. Night thinned the boundaries of the mortal and Otherworld. Small amber lanterns no bigger than a thumbnail danced across the river. A handful of scarletkinnarafeathers drifted down the stream, releasing smoke and sparks of gold into the air. Thegunghroobells ofapsarasignited the silence. Nritti heard it too and stiffened as her own bells began to chime and keen.
But not all the magic that poured out at night was full of lightand feathers and music. In the distance, I heard rough hands pounding on a stone drum, and the hollow knocking of skulls garlanded around araksha’s belly.
“I have to go,” said Nritti, standing.
“I know. So do I.”
Soon, I’d have to shuck off this sari. Someone would notice if a disembodied dress started dancing and floating around. Nritti thought it was scandalous to run around naked. Technically, I was notrunning aroundnaked. I wasdancing aroundnaked. Which sounded worse. But was it scandalous if no one could even tell?
“I’ll see you afterward?” asked Nritti, breaking my thoughts and nodding to the orchard.
“Always.”
“Prepare yourself for a crowd, sister. Tonight, we are entertaining a princeling.”
From time to time, mortal rulers were invited as personal guests to the Otherworld to reward them for certain prayers, offerings, or even aid in battle against demon spirits. And from time to time, some of them returned with anapsarafor a wife. Their first wives were rarely pleased.
