“Uh…Aiden?” said Brynne, tugging on his pant leg.
But Aiden wasn’t listening. “You told Mom she couldn’t come back.Why?Because you can’t stand the sight of me? You abandoned her when she needed you—”
“Do not speak to me of abandonment, child!” said Menaka, outraged. “You know nothing of what you speak.”
“HELLO?” said Brynne, waving her hand in front of Aru’s eyes. “What are you staring at? We’ve got to stop this!”
Aru looked up at Menaka, a story from long ago clicking in her head. “You’re Shakuntula’s mother, aren’t you?”
The light in the room dimmed and then flared as Menaka swung around to face Aru. “What did you say?”
“Shakuntula,” repeated Aru. “I…I remember that story. My mom used to tell it to me when I was a kid.”
Menaka slowly drifted down. Aru risked a glance at Aiden, who was still hovering above them, his skin faintly aglow and his eyes furious.
“Shakuntula?” asked Aiden. “My mother never mentioned—”
“She was long before your mother’s time,” said Menaka, her face stricken with grief. “I did not want history to repeat itself, and yet it did.”
“What do you mean?” asked Aiden. “What happened to her?”
Menaka’s feet landed softly on the floor. She looked toward the tapestry, her eyes distant. “She fell in love, which, for the descendant of an apsara, is never a simple thing. We are plagued with curses. With prophecy…”
Out of the corner of her eye, Aru felt Aiden’s gaze swivel to her before he looked away.
“And with pain,” continued Menaka. “Her lover was cursed to forget her, and many years passed before they were finally reunited. I tried…I tried to bring her to the heavens to live with me forever, but the gods would not allow it. Her choice made her mortal. It didn’t matter who I was or what I did…I could not protect my daughter from death.”
The room changed with Menaka’s words. The images on the tapestry slipped down the wall and spread across the ornate tile.
“You do not know what it was like for us back then,” said Menaka, staring at the floor. “When the gods demanded that we disrupt a sage’s penances to prevent them from gaining too much power, who paid the price?Apsaras. Some of us were turned to stone for thousands of years. Others lost their hearts—”
Aru watched the scene unfurl on the ground. Menaka, too, had visited a sage, not intending to fall in love with him. After their child was born the sage realized that she had been sent to deceive him, and he banished her from his sight.
“Others have lost children,” said Menaka softly. “In the olden days, some of us married human kings. We spent years together in happiness. But no matter how wise and kind they were, they always died. And eventually, no matter how brilliant, pious, and beautiful our offspring were, they died too, and we were always left behind.”
Aiden fell gracefully to the ground, his glow disappearing. For the first time, Menaka lifted her eyes and looked directly into his face. Her expression was raw and almost hungry, as if she would never be able to look at him enough, and that hurt.
“When Malini chose to leave, she became mortal. She chose death,” said Menaka. “I could not endure that slow grief again.”
Brynne’s eyes went wide, her glance flicking between Aiden and his grandmother.
“You ask if it is because you are only half immortal that I cannot bear to look at you,” said Menaka, turning her face away again. “But that is not it. It is becauseIam fullyimmortalthat I cannot bear it.”
Aru watched as Aiden’s mood changed. The hard set of his mouth softened. His hand went to Shadowfax, then stopped. Aru couldn’t guess his thoughts in that moment—it was like a storm was raging in his head.
“Now that you know all this, can you really bring yourself to ask me for a blessing?” challenged Menaka. She shook her head, a haughty slant returning to her mouth, her spine straighter. The images vanished from the floor and the tapestry resumed its faded appearance. “Or will you curse my name and leave this place?”
Aiden nodded at Brynne, who took a step back. Watching out of the corner of her eye, Menaka braced herself as Aiden walked forward. Slowly he knelt to the ground and pressed his hands together in respectful greeting.
“Menaka…Nani…” said Aiden, his voice catching. “We seek your blessing.”
Menaka turned toward him, her lips parted in awe. She touched her heart, as if it were feeling each word Aiden had uttered. When she gazed at him, there was something like hope in her face.
“Then I shall give it.”
This was one of those moments when Aru couldn’t decide if she wanted to shout at people or demand popcorn and watch the drama unfold. She kept looking back and forth between Menaka and Aiden, who, in Aru’s opinion, were now locked in the Most Painful Small Talk of the Century.
“So, your mother. Is she…well?” asked Menaka cautiously.
