Inside the glowing magic bars of the cage was Ai-Ma, her shoulders hunched and face grim. There were some disposable teacups hanging from her few strands of hair and little burn marks like someone had thrown hot tea at her. Off her skin hung strange patches of vegetable peels and plastic bags too, like people had been using her as a target for throwing garbage. And then I saw who was with Neel’s rakkhoshi grandmother. The old crone’s gangly arms were wrapped around someone with garbage hanging off her wings and horns, but also her goofy little collection of ponytails. Naya.
They stood, the old woman and the girl, each not making a sound, quietly holding hands. The people around the cage screamed at them, words so horrible and angry they made my ears ache. My heart sank to my toes. They’d caught them because of me! Because Ai-Ma had brought me here and Naya had obviously followed us, even after we’d told her not to.
I let out a gasp, and Lal looked up. “Good hunting!” he said, grinning in a way that made me dizzy with confusion.
“The only good rakkhoosh is a dead rakkhoosh!” shouted someone in a shrill voice, and I recognized Ms. Twinkle Chakraborty, leaning down over the edge of the palace balcony. At a gesture from her, an assistant emptied an entire garbage can on top of the passing cage. The contents of the can landed on Ai-Ma’s and Naya’s heads with a wet thump. Naya stumbled a little at the force of the hit, but Ai-Ma helped her straighten up. “Oh, my num-num,” I heard the old woman say in a sad voice. “Don’t let them see you’re afraid.”
That seemed to excite the crowd more, and the scene around me drifted again toward the scary. I felt like I was in one of those old movies where the mobs chase a monster with pitchforks and torches. All around me were open, red mouths, jeering and shouting insults. Raat shuddered and tossed his head, a thin froth of saliva forming at his mouth.
False boy. No. False boy.
That’s when I saw them, the cameras all turned on me, the lights blinding my eyes. There was Suman Rahaman, just to my right, eagerly waiting with his microphone. And then it appeared in midair before me, the harmonium. The keyboards played and the accordion pumped and the mellow baritone warbled out my name. This was my second test, it sang. Fighting, and killing, Ai-Ma and Naya. A great cheer went up from all the assembled spectators.
Fighting and killing Ai-Ma and Naya? No. No. No. No.
A sweet-faced village girl of six or seven was sitting on her father’s shoulders not a few steps away from me. On her pigtailed head was a Die, Rakkhosh, Die baseball hat. Her father was wearing a T-shirt with an image of a rakkhosh and a bright red X through it.
“Are you excited to slay the rakkhosh on TV?” she asked in her pure little voice.
The crowd caught her last words, and started chanting, “Slay the demons! Kill the rakkhosh! Kill the beasts!”
“Of course she’s excited! This is the Princess Demon Slayer’s second test!” boomed the captain of the guard. “The entire multiverse is watching! She’s not going to let us down!”
Naya said something from her cage, but I couldn’t hear her words. I saw Ai-Ma squeeze the girl’s shoulders tight.
“Shut up, you!” One of the soldiers banged his sword against the cage, making both Ai-Ma and Naya jump. And then the soldiers started clearing the crowd. “The Princess Demon Slayer’s second test is about to begin! Give her room! Make space!”
The crowd did as they were told, shouting my name.
I felt disgusted. Disgusted at them, disgusted at myself. There was only one choice here. I looked straight into the face of the little girl, the one who had asked if I was excited to slay Ai-Ma and Naya. “No, I’m not excited to slay them,” I said as loudly as I could. “I’m not going to slay them.”
Lal shot me a surprised look.
“But why don’t you want to kill the rakkhoshis?” the little girl persisted.
Why didn’t I want to kill Ai-Ma and Naya? The answer was clear. I thought about Ai-Ma carrying Neel and me to safety, protecting us from other rakkhosh who wanted us for a meal. I remembered her saving my mother despite being tempted by her human smell. I thought about Naya saving my butt not once, but multiple different times. I remembered what it was like when she and I were traveling through the wormhole, our atoms and cells mingling together, crunching down, and re-expanding. I wondered if some of her atoms got mixed up with mine, or maybe if they had never been that different to begin with. I remembered K. P. Das’s words. Being a monster or a hero wasn’t about who you were, or what you looked like, or where you were from. Being a monster or a hero was about what you chose to do with every minute of your life.
I looked at that little girl’s sweet face and made my decision. I didn’t understand everything about why Mati was working with the rakkhosh, but I trusted my cousin. I didn’t understand how Ai-Ma could be both the kind soul she was and a monster, but I trusted her grandmotherly love. And I didn’t understand why Naya had lied to me about being a rakkhoshi, but she’d proved herself loyal, and I was at least starting to trust her friendship. Most importantly, I trusted my own instincts. And right now, my instincts were telling me that this horrible scene was so, so wrong.
In the end, I didn’t answer the little girl’s question in words, but in action. The captain of the guard was right next to me. In a swift gesture, I aimed an arrow right at his waist. “Princess Demon Slayer?” the man asked in alarm. But he was too late. “Ai-Ma, catch!”
My arrow traveled, straight and true, hooking his key ring and then heading on toward the rakkhosh cage. It flew between the bars, where Ai-Ma caught it between her teeth.
“Fly, Naya!” I yelled. “Fly to the Honey-Gold Ocean! That’s where Neel is!”
Naya opened the cage with the keys, but she hesitated. The crowd was already turning on me. “I’m not going to leave you!” she yelled.
But Raat had understood my words. Fly, he repeated, fly to my boy. Fly. He was already unfurling his powerful black wings, taking a few steps backward from Lal so that he could explode into flight.
“Hey, stop!” Lal yelled, but I couldn’t tell if he was talking to Naya and Ai-Ma or me. “Stop them!” he said again, pointing at the now-flying rakkhoshi and the old crone on her back. That little loss of concentration was all I needed. I jerked Raat’s reins out of Lal’s hands, danced the pakkhiraj this way and that to avoid a bunch of soldiers, and finally let the horse soar into the evening sky above the palace complex.
“Wait, no! Come back! Kiran!” Lal yelled as his brother’s pakkhiraj horse took off into the sky, narrowly missing his head. The crowd screamed and some of them applauded, probably thinking this was all a part of the spectacle of Who Wants to Be a Demon Slayer?
I felt a surge of power like I’d never felt before. Neel was right. I didn’t need to play by anyone else’s rules. No one else but me could shape my legend.
As I flew higher into the sky, the crowd started to get a sense that all wasn’t right. Maybe it was the angry exclamations of the soldiers, or Suman Rahaman shouting into the cameras, “She’s gone AWOL! The Princess Demon Slayer is no hero—she’s siding with the rakkhosh!”
Some people now were starting to boo and shout at me, but I didn’t care.
And then we were flying hard, Naya with Ai-Ma piggyback and me on Raat’s strong back. The midnight horse’s mane flew in the wind. For the first time since all of this mess began, I knew for sure I was doing the right thing, on the right side.
“Oh, my delicious snotty candy cane!” Ai-Ma crooned. “You saved us!” I noticed that she was holding Naya’s phone and was clicking shots of us escaping. Except that her finger seemed to be over part of the camera lens, but I wasn’t going to tell her that now. The old crone looked way too happy as she snapped away. “Look, boo-boo! I’m taking pictures for the demon-net!”
“Thank you, Your Princessness! Oh, thank you!” Naya burbled. “Promise me you’ll let me post about this as an Instagreat story! It’ll go viral for sure!”
The soldiers sent a storm of arrows after us, but Naya a
nd Raat did some impressive evasive maneuvers. They’d be behind us at some point, but for now, we had the advantage and that felt pretty good.
“Are you both all right?” I asked. “I’m so sorry that happened to you!”
“Monsters!” sniffed Ai-Ma, and I was afraid I had to agree.
“Let us go and save my grandson!” cried Ai-Ma, and Raat bucked and neighed happily.
We’re coming, boy. We’re coming. We’re coming!
I flew with Naya and Ai-Ma to the Honey-Gold Ocean of Souls. On the way, I tried to talk to the two rakkhoshis about Lal. “I don’t understand it. He was so okay with me killing you both on live TV.”
Even midair as we were, Ai-Ma piggybacking on Naya, they exchanged a funny look. “He is the crown prince, my bean-pole dung beetle,” said Ai-Ma. “He and the Raja did agree to partner with Sesha on the show.”
“I think that was that new minister of the Raja’s! That Minister Gupshup—he’s up to something!” I insisted. “I just can’t believe Lal would be so mean! His own brother’s half-rakkhosh!”
Again, Ai-Ma and Naya exchanged that look. “Your Splendiferousness, I know you’re surprised, but we’re not. This has always been the way humans treat rakkhosh—no matter if we’re violent or not. And the false news you speak of, that’s always been around—think of all the tales telling of rakkhosh being evil!”
“But …” I stopped, embarrassed. Naya was right. I had heard stories my whole life about how rakkhosh were villains. Was that not entirely true? Oh, this was all so confusing. I buried my face in Raat’s mane for a minute to gather my thoughts.
Luckily, our conversation was cut short by the fact that we were there, at least according to Mati’s moving map. We landed on a cliff above the Honey-Gold Ocean, the moonlight bathing us in light, and dancing across the black waves like diamonds. I felt my mother’s strength and power washing over me. I didn’t know if Neel could hear me, but I turned my face up to the disc of my moon mother’s silvery face, and whispered, “I’m coming, Neel. Hang in there.”
Ai-Ma spun some sort of land rakkhosh dryness spell over me so that my clothes, pack, and weapons would stay dry as I dived into the water and down to the TSK hotel and casino. It would also give anyone looking at me the illusion I was full serpent. “Not too hard, since you’re half-green already,” said Ai-Ma, and I gulped. My arm was greener than it had been even this morning, the color almost down to my wrist. “It should last long enough for you to get past the lobby and into the dungeons.”
Unfortunately, her spell didn’t include any scuba gear or extra oxygen tanks.
“That kind of magic is out of my pay grade, dear betel bum,” said the old crone, picking at something that looked like a bug that was stuck between her few remaining teeth.
I looked away, trying not to grimace, and at Naya. “Sorry, I just fly,” she said.
Raat, for his part, snuffled at my shoulder, as if he wanted to go with me. Then he thoughtfully chewed on my hair, which I took for a sign of affection.
“Why do I have to dive down from way up here again?” I peeked down the edge of the cliff at the golden waters below.
“It’ll give you the momentum you need to get to the bottom, Your Majosity,” explained Naya for the umpteenth time. But to her credit, she didn’t sound impatient. Despite her fangs and horns and talons, not to mention her wings, being out, she still seemed like the same old upbeat sixth grader I’d met in New Jersey. Which was weird. How could one person be so many contradictory things at once? Course, I was one to talk.
I looked at my two companions’ faces—one old and familiar, one young and relatively new, both kind souls, both demonesses. I should, by rights, be their enemy. But I knew for a fact that I would have been no hero if I’d let the game go on. As Neel had said, I didn’t have to play by their rules. I didn’t have to be bound by anyone else’s game. I sighed, rubbing my neck, trying to build up my courage to dive.
“Um, Your Highnosity?” Naya’s voice was weirdly tense.
“What?” I looked up, and caught her looking out toward the lightening horizon. Raat neighed in recognition. Even though it was small still, I realized they were looking at the form of a snow-white pakkhiraj horse with a red-clothed rider on its back.
“Lal and Snowy,” I breathed. I didn’t realize he’d be behind us so soon.
“Not just that, look behind him!” said Naya, pointing. And sure enough, behind the white pakkhiraj was a whole army of flying horses, carrying what looked like a battalion of pantalooned and mustachioed guardsmen. And with them, a flying camera crew and Suman Rahaman!
“Well, that’s not good.” I wished I’d paid more attention to those word problems in math class, so I could try to calculate how long it would take them to get to us.
“Caramel toadstool, dear, I’m sorry, but that may not be our only problem,” said Ai-Ma. I realized the old crone was looking in a different direction. And from that direction, there was the far-closer shape of a giant flying chariot pulled by six enormous, bridled snakes. The chariot itself glowed a magical green, and I didn’t need binoculars to know who was inside.
“Sesha and Naga,” I breathed, catching sight of my birth father and brother in the flying chariot. And then I was distracted for a minute from the doom that was gaining on us from multiple directions by Naya’s flying thumbs.
“We’re about to be attacked from multiple directions and you’re texting?” I shouted. “Stop that already!”
“I’m texting Mati, Tuni, and the PSS!” Naya said, her thumbs never stopping motion. “We’re going to need some backup!”
“It’s time for you to go, dung cakes,” said Ai-Ma firmly. “Me and the moody horsie and Miss Moyna Sunshine here will handle whatever comes our way.”
“No, I’m not going to leave you …” I said, but it was too late, because with a fierce shove of her giant hand, Ai-Ma pushed me over the edge of the cliff and into the water.
“Good luck, toadstool beetle dung! Go rescue our boy!”
Raat reared and neighed, as if wishing me good luck.
I fell like an ungraceful stone, cannonballing into the waves. The impact was terrible, like I’d run into a wall of bricks. But then I was under the water, fighting my instincts to swim upward. I let the serpent side of me take over and imagined myself able to breathe comfortably underwater, pictured myself slithering, instead of desperately swimming, down to the bottom.
Somehow, the ocean was so bright with golden light that I could see even deep under the waves. Conscious of the soldiers, the snakes, and the camera crew potentially all chasing me down here, I swam as fast as I could. How long could Naya and Ai-Ma hold everyone off? How long would it take for Mati, Tuni, and the PSS to get Naya’s text and come?
But I couldn’t help them now. I had to get to Neel. In fact, if I could get him out quickly enough, we could both be more use to Ai-Ma and Naya than just me alone. I kept swimming down, my chest practically exploding from the pressure, my eyes and throat burning, my brain telling me I needed a breath. But just when I didn’t think I could make it, just when I thought I’d let go and drown, there, among the stingray and schools of silver fish, was the huge, gaudy TSK hotel fortress that I’d seen on Lifestyles of the Rich and Monstrous. The outside was super tacky, the entire building made to look like it was made of snakes. Through the undulating motion of the water all around me, the building seemed almost like it was breathing. But that was just my vision playing tricks on me and my oxygen-deprived brain.
There was a curving driveway with tacky golden statues, and underwater limos driving up to it. I swam furiously toward the revolving doors, pushing my way past a number of flashily-dressed fish monsters with cigars and jewel-encrusted wristwatches.
“Hey, watch it!” they protested.
I burst into the bright lobby of the hotel. I was dry because of Ai-Ma’s spell, but dragging in breaths like a drowning person. I noticed that the doors, walls, pillars, everything, were stamped with that TSK symbol—
the Ouroboros—the rounded snake eating its own tail. There were serpents and demons and ghosts and talking fish all over the place, streaming in and out of the casino, throwing their luggage carelessly toward the overworked bellboys, talking in loud voices. Luckily, no one gave me a second glance, and from a quick look in one of the lobby’s gilded mirrors, I could see why. I looked like myself, but myself as a serpent. I gave a shiver. Is this what I really was inside? Would I ever turn back? I didn’t have any answers, but I realized, I also didn’t have any time to think about it. Because I knew I had to find Neel before Sesha, Naga, and the Raja’s guards got here.
I tried to move faster, but it was hard. I shook my head, trying to get over my dizziness, and the weird feeling that everything in the hotel—the walls, the gold-encrusted chairs and sofas, the ornate pillars—were kind of waving around. I shook my head, hard, and took in some more deep breaths. My brain needed more oxygen, that was all. But when I put my hand on one of the giant pillars in the lobby, I pulled it back right away, grossed out by the fact that the golden marble had felt warm and fleshy under my hand.
I tried not to scream as a skondokata—one of K. P. Das’s headless ghosts—approached me from the right. The creature was in a front-desk uniform, complete with a lapel pin like an Ouroboros, and seemed to be asking me if I needed help. Only, I couldn’t understand anything the ghost was saying as his head wasn’t in the right spot, but in his arms. I backed away as quickly as I could and tried to think. How was I supposed to find the dungeon inside the hotel fortress?
That’s when the strangest thing happened. I had the bizarre feeling the parquet floor under my feet kind of tilted, so that I shuffled and slid toward where I needed to go—a huge bank of gold plated elevators. But that wasn’t possible. A floor couldn’t move like that. Nor could a pillar. I must be feeling seriously seasick or something. I had a bad history with barfing on roller coasters, so maybe this weird, topsy-turvy feeling was something to do with that.
Game of Stars Page 19
