But his words weren’t as much scary as they were just sad. “I’m … I’m just going to need some time, okay? I just … I’m going to need some time before I can forgive you.”
I felt like crying, but I just jammed my nails into my fist. “No, I get it, that’s cool.”
“So let’s just get on with what we’ve got to do, all right?”
“No, fine.” I felt like I wasn’t getting enough air. “Good idea. Lots of people to rescue.”
“Lal would have just remembered how to decode Tangra fish juice.” Neel sighed. “Decoding’s my worst subject.”
“What’s your best?” I asked in as normal a voice as I could manage while still trying to stuff down tears.
Neel flipped to the glossary and began scanning the Ts. “Talons, Tambourines … Here it is, Tangra,” he read. “My best subject is demon slaying of course. Even though I believe more in demonic violence prevention and restorative justice than actual demon slaying.”
“Oh.”
It couldn’t be easy, I guessed, for Neel to be half demon himself and have to hear all the time about how much people hated rakkhosh. He knew—maybe even better than me—what it was like to feel different.
“Well, Professor Das says here that there are only three ways to decode something written with Tangra fish juice.”
“All right, shoot.”
“One.” Neel counted on his fingers. “Blow a powder made from ground-up rakkhosh bones on it.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“You see any dead rakkhosh lying around here? And no, a half rakkhosh doesn’t count. Even if it did, I’m not sacrificing my bones for your map.”
“Fine.” My face was as serious as I could keep it.
Neel looked huffy. Then he realized I was joking. “Very clever. You’re such a comedian.” He concentrated again on the book. “Two, dip the map in the waters from the River Jogai.”
“Much easier than killing a rakkhosh,” I said, “so let’s go; where is this river?”
“Dried up years ago.”
“Better and better.” I sighed. “Okay, and what’s the third?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Just tell me,” I insisted.
Neel read from the book. “Well, the third way to decode something written in Tangra fish juice is to look at it through the prism of a python jewel.”
I had a bad feeling. “A what?”
“The jewel from a powerful python’s head. And of course, the place to get that is the underworld Kingdom of Serpents.” He waited a beat. “Your father’s kingdom.”
“My birth father,” I corrected. I’d made up my mind: I wasn’t going to buy into that movie-of-the-week sap—like I was supposed to run into the arms of some dude who’d tried to kill me when I was a baby. Just because he’d donated his genes to my existence didn’t make him Daddy Dearest. I mean, the Rakkhoshi Queen was Neel’s mom and had actually raised him, but you didn’t see him making any “I Heart My Demonic Mama” clay spitoons for her in art class.
“It’s our only choice. Luckily, I have a working map to the serpent kingdom. And there are no other ways to decode something written in Tangra fish juice. At least that exist in this world.”
“What—there’s another way?” I jumped on his hesitation.
Neel nodded. “Lal and I discovered it by mistake when we were trying to get to your house. We didn’t realize the New Jersey map we had was encoded—probably written with Bhetki fish scales—until it was too late. We didn’t think we’d ever make it to Parsippany in time to save you when Lal knocked his Giant Gulpie over on the paper.”
I remembered Lal’s love of soda fountains and fizzy drinks. And what was it that they had been arguing about when I opened the door? If it wasn’t for that Giant Gulpie, we wouldn’t have found her at all?
“So he spilled soda on the map, and the hidden ink showed itself?”
“Yup. I don’t suppose you brought some with you?”
I shook my head, and was about to say something, when Neel went on. “Wait a minute, what’s this writing on the other side of the map?”
“What?” Maybe Ma hadn’t kept everything encoded.
But the opposite side of the map just held a note, written in Ma’s handwriting:
You might get thirsty on your travels. Why not take some pek-pek with you?
Blast. That didn’t help. It was also a code, just a lot simpler than the one in Tangra juice. No one but me and my parents would know that as a kid, I pronounced the word for a brand of soda like peksi and that, over the years, the word had become pek-pek in our family.
I explained that to Neel, who wasn’t that amused by my childhood anecdote. “Your Ma wanted to make sure no one else could follow the map to Maya Pahar,” he growled, “and she gave you this clue to figure out how to decode the map. She went to all this trouble and you couldn’t bother to bring a can of soda with you?”
“Uh, if you’ll remember, Your Imperial Oh-So-Super Royal Highness, I was a little occupied right when we left New Jersey. I was saving Lal’s butt from that rakkhosh on my lawn, while you, his big, strong half-demon older brother, sat around and did nothing.”
“I would have gotten around to saving him,” Neel countered. “I saved you, didn’t I? Not that you seem particularly grateful.”
“Grateful?” I snorted. “Since I’ve met you, my house has been destroyed, my parents have disappeared, I’ve almost been eaten by a tantruming transit officer, then practically got arrested for stealing someone’s moustache”—I took a breath—“I got beaned with guava seeds by a delusional bird, and pretty near got devoured by your demon mother.”
“And you’ve loved every minute of it,” Neel drawled, finally smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.
The thing was, I kind of had.
Neel and I left almost right away to find a python jewel in the Kingdom of Serpents. Without one, we couldn’t read the moving map and had no hope of finding Maya Pahar.
The journey started off fine enough. The night sky was clear with perfect visibility. But it wasn’t long after we started, Neel on Midnight and me on Snowy, that I knew something was wrong. At first, it was just a feeling in the cold night air that made goose bumps come up on my arms. Then it was the faint flapping sound that I could hear off-time from either Midnight or Snowy’s wing motions. Finally, it was the smell: the sort of scent that filled up our convenience store van once when Baba forgot to close the vents and we were driving right behind a giant garbage truck.
Neel and Midnight slowed down, until they were flying next to Snowy and me.
“I think there’s someone following us,” I said, gesturing behind us into the night.
“Rakkhosh,” Neel said flatly. “I smelled them almost as soon as we left.”
“We’re being followed by demons? What do we do?”
Sensing my tension, Snowy bucked and snorted. “Whoa, boy, take it easy.” I patted his soft neck.
“We ride faster and try to lose them. If we’re lucky, it’s just a coincidence, and they’re heading somewhere else and won’t follow.” With that, Neel whispered something into first Midnight’s ear and then Snowy’s, and the pakkhiraj horses took off like shots. I almost couldn’t catch my breath, we were riding so fast, but as soon as I got used to our new speed, I realized the sound of chasing wings had also grown faster. And louder. Not to mention how intense the smell of garbage was getting.
“We’re going to have to outrun them,” Neel called from Midnight. “Rakkhosh are afraid of snakes. They’ll never follow us all the way to the Kingdom of Serpents.”
I really hoped he was right. Midnight swooped to the left in a complex and unexpected zigzag and Snowy followed. I couldn’t help letting out a choked scream.
As we regained altitude, though, something else made me want to scream even more.
“Neel is dreamy! Neel is sweet!” a cackling voice called from somewhere behind me. “Prince Neel’s to
es are a great treat!”
That was all the incentive I needed to urge Snowy to go faster. The rakkhoshi knew who we were. This was no coincidence. They were after us. They were going to catch up to us soon. They were already telling us how they were going to eat us, starting with Neel’s feet. I remembered what Baba had said about rakkhosh using the bones of their victims as toothpicks, and felt like I was going to die for sure.
But when I looked over at Neel, I realized he didn’t look as scared as he did just a minute ago. In fact, he kept looking over his shoulder with a confused expression, like—could it be?—he recognized the rakkhoshi’s voice?
I took the risk of looking back at the demons now close behind us. Though it was dark, they were lit up with an inner green glow. They were a group of young rakkhoshis in saris and earrings, their unbound dark hair flying, wings flapping, and fangs glinting in the unnatural green light. They were flying in a bunch, their clawed hands outstretched in our direction, with kind of goofy expressions on their faces. Could I be imagining it, or did they look more like lovesick demonic cheerleaders than marauding murderers?
“Don’t be frightened, don’t be blue! Don’t run, dear prince, for we love you!”
And then chanting rhythmically: “Princie! Princie! He’s so fly! We’ll eat his friend if she’s nearby!”
They said this with a tittering that sounded, for all the world, the way that Jovi and her gang sounded when they were talking about their favorite TV stars and pop singers.
I urged Snowy forward, drawing even with Midnight. “You have demon groupies?”
“It’s, uh, nothing,” Neel said. But I noticed he kept his gaze straight ahead. “Just some rakkhoshis who sometimes send fan mail and care packages of nasty baked goods from Demon Land—usually without enough postage.” Neel pulled at Midnight’s reigns and made a sharp right, and Snowy followed.
“Then how did you recognize their voices?”
“Oh, right.” Neel sounded uncomfortable. “They also sometimes leave voice messages, and, like, send me mix-tapes of their favorite songs—but really, that’s it!”
“Really? That’s it? They don’t send you selfies of them biting the heads off tarantulas or anything?” I screamed as I tried to hold on to my horse’s reigns with almost numb fingers.
“Okay, maybe a couple times,” Neel shouted over to me. “You probably shouldn’t risk getting anywhere near them. The Neelkamalas have been known to get a little, erm, jealous.”
“They call themselves the Neelkamalas?”
What the heck! Neel was the word for blue, and kamala was the name for an orange—so these idiot rakkhoshis had dubbed themselves the blue oranges? Being eaten by a rakkhosh was bad enough. I really didn’t want to be killed by some demonic fangirls with no taste in names.
Snowy flapped his wings in rhythm with Midnight’s as the horses continued in their headlong gallop away from the rakkhoshis.
“What’s the matter? What’s up? If that’s your girlfriend, we’ll chew her up!” yelled the Neelkamalas.
“Get lost, freaks!” I shouted over my shoulder. “You picked a terrible group name and your rhymes stink!”
In hindsight, I’ll admit, insulting lovesick demoness fangirls probably wasn’t the smartest decision I’ve ever made. The rakkhoshis seemed to redouble their efforts to reach us.
“Princess stew! Such a treat! Your girlfriend’s gonna be good to eat!”
“Neel! Do something! Your groupies are going to kill me!” I screamed as the closest rakkhoshi, in a checkered sari with clashing colors, reached her dirty nails toward my horse. She caught a bit of Snowy’s tail, but lost it when the animal bucked and increased his speed.
“Almost there!” Neel pointed down to the green land below us. “You better head home, ladies! Unless you want to join us in the Kingdom of Serpents!”
“Snakies bite! Snakies stink!” The Neelkamalas gnashed their teeth in my direction. “We’d like the princess’s blood to drink!”
But they were already slowing down, and the distance between the rakkhoshi girl gang and our horses was increasing.
“Better luck next time!” I called to the now retreating demonesses. “And by the way, I’m not his girlfriend! He’s all yours!”
“You don’t know how to leave a good thing alone, do you?” Neel griped.
The horses began to descend. The sun was just rising when we landed next to a glassy hilltop lake surrounded by a thick forest of trees.
After we landed and dismounted, Neel turned to face me. “You okay?”
“You almost got me killed just there!” I pushed him with all my might. My hands were freezing cold, but he was like a furnace—probably another annoying perk of his rakkhosh blood. “What is wrong with you? You couldn’t warn me that you were some kind of rakkhoshi heartthrob?”
“Hey, watch it.” Neel grinned, looking stupidly proud of himself. “It’s not my fault that I have an interspecies sort of charm.”
“Who told you that?” I scoffed. “Those selfie-sending cannibals?”
The rising sun reflected like crazy off the mirrored surface of the lake, so that we were bathed in this shimmering, golden light. The ancient trees rustled all around us. The air was crisp and cool. The beauty of the surroundings did nothing to diminish the irritation I was feeling. The Neelkamalas girl gang had almost snacked on my limbs back there!
I shivered, rubbing at my goose-bumpy arms.
“Sorry.” Neel pulled out a coat from his saddlebag and threw it around my shoulders. “I should have remembered you weren’t too warmly dressed.”
“Don’t think this makes up for almost getting me killed,” I snapped even as I cuddled into his warm coat. It smelled like him.
“Nah, I’d never think that.” Neel smiled in a way that made me feel all confused.
“I’m serious,” I said, my face heating up and voice rising. “I mean, how do I know you’re not a secret double agent or something? Really working for the demons? Maybe you wanted me to invite your mother into the kingdom! Maybe you wanted me to blame myself! Maybe you actually wanted your mother to …” I let my voice trail off. What was I saying?
“Eat Lal and Mati?” Neel asked. “Is that what you were going to say? That I wanted my mother to transform my brother and friend into this?” He indicated the gold and silver spheres resting on one side of his saddlebags.
I felt the shame rise like steam from within me, and wished I could stuff my stupid words back in my mouth. “No, I didn’t mean …”
“Yeah, I think you did.” Neel ran his hand harshly through his hair. “I have every reason to hate you, you know? Every reason. But I’m still here, helping you find your parents, helping you not get killed. And what do you do? Insult me at every opportunity!”
“Hate me?” My stomach went all wibbly-wobbly at his awful words, and I could feel myself almost shaking. “Hate me? What about all the reasons I have to hate you?”
“Right, because I’m a ‘secret double agent,’ as you put it,” Neel snapped. “You’re totally wacked, you know that? I don’t know why I even try with you!”
“You know, I don’t know either,” I shouted. “And maybe you shouldn’t anymore; what do you think about that?”
I pelted off, half expecting Neel to chase behind me. When he didn’t, I let out a sob but still couldn’t let myself cry. I wasn’t about to start doing dumb cliché things like crying over boys.
I bit back my tears, pushing branches and leaves aside as I ran into the beautiful wilderness, away from the shining lake. The moss was soft under my feet and the trees all thick with greenery. There was a gentle breeze, making it seem like the leaves were dancing all around me.
I was well out of sight of the lake’s shores when I heard something more than freaky. It came from my right: a rustling in the trees, a cracking of branches. Oh gods, it was probably one of rakkhoshi girls, braving the Kingdom of Serpents to come and get me! Why had I been so moronic and told them “better luck next time”? As
Baba always said, only a fool poked a sleeping tiger. I don’t know what he would say about someone who poked a flying rakkhosh.
I reached for my new bow, only to realize that I’d left it and my quiver hooked on Snowy’s saddle. Stupid, Kiran, stupid, stupid, stupid! I looked around for a fallen branch I could use as a club, but there was nothing big enough. I’d have to take her with my hands. I took a big breath, raised my fists as I’d seen Lal do back in Parsippany, and clenched them hard. I channeled all the anger I’d felt toward Neel now into thinking about how I’d defeat a rakkhosh with my bare fists. I had to believe I could do it. Failure was not an option. Not only Ma and Baba, but now Lal and Mati were counting on me too. If I could just keep the element of surprise.
The rustling was louder now, and I heard some raspy breathing and coughing. The sounds were all coming from behind a large clump of bushes. Fists raised to protect my face, I rounded the foliage with careful steps and then jumped.
“Got you!” My mind whirling with self-preservation and not much else, I launched myself at the intruder, tackling the creature to the ground. Somehow, the target was smaller than I thought it would be. And squishier than I thought a rakkhosh should be. Then I realized there were a bunch of yellow feathers shooting into the air from my arms.
Wait a minute, this wasn’t a demon.
“Why in the world are you strangling Tuntuni?” It was Neel, having followed me through the woods. “I know he’s a pain, but I really think you’re overreacting.”
The bird was a disaster. Bleary-eyed, missing feathers, and with some leaves stuck in one wing.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” I disentangled my hands from around the bird’s neck and tried to smooth some of his ruffled feathers. “How did you get here?”
“What … do … you … call … a … bird … who’s … out … of … breath?” Tuntuni panted.
I petted and cooed at the obviously shell-shocked bird, but Neel asked, “What?”
“A … puffin!”
“Shhh …” I soothed the little yellow bird I’d just almost killed. “No more bad jokes now. Save your breath.”
The Serpent's Secret (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #1) Page 11
