When Aru closed her eyes, images bloomed.
She saw an ancient kingdom overlooking a vast river, and three princesses walking hand in hand through a garden. Shikhandi’s voice echoed through the image, freezing it in place so it looked like a painting.
“In one of my lives, I was born Amba, Princess of the Kingdom of Kashi,” said Shikhandi. “I was betrothed to the son of a neighboring king, and I thought…I thought I would be happy.”
The images now blurred through Aru’s head.
She watched as the three princesses struggled to break free of a man’s grip, but he was too strong, and before long he had secured them all on a golden chariot. The horse-drawn vehicle sped through the dusty terrain of a desert kingdom before arriving at a new palace surrounded by mango and guava trees. Once the three princesses were taken inside, a handsome young king with light brown skin and coffee-dark eyes bowed to them in greeting.
“I am in need of wives,”he said.
“Hold up!” said Brynne loudly.
Aru’s eyes shot open, and the vision of the palace vanished, replaced with the concrete walls of the chamber beneath the sea.
“So this dude’s version of a proposal was straight up kidnapping?” demanded Brynne.
“Is that no longer a courtship practice in your lands?” asked Shikhandi mildly.
“Depends on how much you like prison,” said Aiden.
“But…whokidnapped you and your sisters?” asked Aru.
“Bhishma,” said Shikhandi softly. It looked like even saying the person’s name felt like a knife being wrenched into him.
Aru knew that name. “Wasn’t Bhishma a powerful prince who swore he’d never get married?”
Shikhandi nodded. “A fateful decision, in my case…. My sisters, however, found happiness. They accepted the king’s hand in marriage…. I did not. I was betrothed to someone else, and I went back to him. But it did not go as I imagined.”
Shikhandi waved his hand, and Aru saw Princess Amba standing in front of a different king. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dark-skinned, and had small eyes that reminded Aru of a rat.
“You expect me to still accept you?”said the king in the vision.“You’re nothing more than spoiled goods. You have spent time in the home of another man. I will not take you as my bride.”
Amba looked stricken. Her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to make herself smaller.
“Bhishma was the one who took you,”said the king with a dismissive flip of his hand.“Makehimmarry you.”
The images churned again, this time showing Princess Amba standing before Bhishma in a forest at dusk. Amba was thin and had dark circles under her eyes. Bhishma was tall and muscular, his black hair held back by a simple diamond circlet. His facial features seemed carved, somehow. His nose was sharp, his cheekbones sharper, but he didn’t look cruel….
Just sad.
“I cannot give you what you wish, Princess,”he said.“I swore an oath to my father that I would take no bride, and I cannot go back on it.”
“You…You ruined my life,”said Amba.“My father’s kingdom will no longer accept me. My betrothed threw me out. Not even my sisters’ husband, for whom you kidnapped myself and my sisters, will accept me as a bride, because I rejected him for another king. No one will avenge my ruined pride and take up my cause, for they know they cannot win a fight against you!”
Bhishma was quiet, but his cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
“And now you, the source of all my pain, will not accept me, either,”said Amba.“You destroyed every happiness for me. I have nowhere to go. Because of you, I am forever an outcast.”
“I am sorry,”said Bhishma, stepping away from her.“But there is nothing I can do to help you.”
Amba watched him go, a dangerous light entering her eyes.“You are not sorry,”she said.“Not yet.”
Aru watched, horror creeping through her as the years blurred past in the images Shikhandi conjured. Amba’s long black hair became matted. Her bones became visible under her skin. She stopped eating, drinking, and sleeping. She stood for years with her hands pressed together, the forest growing over her, and a chant to the gods forever on her lips:“Let me be the one to destroy Bhishma.”
A white light exploded over the images of Amba, and the images changed…this time showing Prince Shikhandi as the Potatoes knew him: tall and handsome, wearing a strange garland of blue lotuses. Scenes of war flashed through Aru’s head until it was time for the final battle. The sunset looked like a bloodstain. Broken bodies covered the ground. Among the active warriors, Aru recognized the silhouettes of the Pandava brothers, as unlike Aru and her sisters as they could be. Shikhandi aimed a bow and arrow directly at Bhishma, who looked old and gray and impossibly tired.
The moment Bhishma saw Shikhandi, he lowered his own bow and arrow.“I see you for who you once were,”said Bhishma.“I will not fight a woman.”
