The Serpent's Secret (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #1)

by Sayantani DasGupta

  PLUNK.

  And with that, the salty waters of the dark well overflowed. Maybe overflowed is the wrong word. More like exploded in a geyser-like fountain of intergalactic dark energy. The force of the stuff made me fly off the stones and onto the ground, landing with a crash—yet again—on Neel. I hardly had time to catch my breath, because then we were both being bombarded by boulders from the exploding well. Neel took the brunt of it, shielding me from the stones with his own body. We both ducked, trying to protect our heads from the falling liquid and debris. Okay, maybe the

  python jewel was a little more umph than entirely necessary for this procedure.

  But then there they were. A little wet, but none the worse for having been trapped under the surface of a magic well. My parents. Those horrible landscapers. Those overenthusiastic dessert-makers. Those total nuts.

  “Ma! Baba!” I wrapped my arms around them. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  “Darling moonbeam garland! Let me look at you!” Ma gushed, pulling away and taking my chin in two fingers. “Such dark circles! Ki holo? Not been sleeping well without your bear?”

  “Ma! You know I haven’t slept with Binkie Bear for years!” I turned my face away from her prying eyes only to be accosted by Baba.

  “Have you been getting enough fiber, darling? No problems with constipation, na?”

  “Oof!” Ma joined in. “I remember that one time you had such terrible problems with your bowels …”

  OMG! Forget a rakkhosh, my parents were going to kill me with embarrassment.

  Luckily, they had no time to make any more inappropriate observations, because the misty ground started to rumble under our feet.

  Wordlessly, Neel pointed at the dark sky, his face ashen. I saw nothing. No sliver of a moon, no trace of an outline. The heavens were entirely dark. But I knew. The new moon had risen.

  “Run!” Tuntuni squawked. “A baby demon’s about to be born!”

  As we ran, my parents yelled endearments, luckily minus any more unnecessary comments about my fiber intake.

  “I never believed I would see you again,” Baba sobbed as he vaulted over a misty boulder. “My sweet girl! Do you forgive us for not telling you about the spell?”

  His belly bounced a little as he ran, and the end of Ma’s sari flapped crazily behind her, not to mention how totally messy and off-center her bouffant was.

  “Oh, I knew you would find us, my darling. I, for one”—and here, Ma gave Baba a superior look—“had faith in you. You are, after all, a real Indian princess! As I have told you all along!”

  There was a horrible groaning behind us as the rakkhosh baby woke up. Its time was up, and I was pretty sure, from its screeches, it was hungry.

  Let me tell you, none of us needed a motivational motion device. Apparently, hanging out in all that primordial goop was like some kind of triple-wheatgrass shot for old folks, because my parents were hauling butt right along with Neel and me. In fact, Tuntuni was hitching a ride on Baba’s shoulder. If we weren’t running for our lives, we could have collected some of that well fluid and started a fabulous new line of vitamins: Demonic Silver—dark energy–filled vitamins for the senior set.

  As it was, we had more important things to worry about. Like surviving the hunger pangs of a very persistent newborn rakkhosh. I snuck a glance over my shoulder. It wasn’t in a diaper or anything, but something about its eyes was really—well, maybe innocent isn’t the right word—but young, anyway. It was short for a rakkhosh, maybe only seven or eight feet tall. It had putrid, moldy skin, open boils, and about six horns coming every which way out of his head—maybe some kind of homage to Einstein-ji, I wasn’t sure. Of course, it also had the requisite fangs through which a more-than-requisite amount of drool was flowing. Its mouth was open like a gigantic vacuum, and I saw a few infant stars, some space dust, and some trees get sucked in.

  “Stop! Din-ner! No run! Bogli hungry!” the baby demon yelled. It screwed up its ugly face in a wail. “Go in my belly now!”

  “‘Bogli’ doesn’t rhyme?” I shouted at Neel.

  “He hasn’t been to demon school yet,” he explained, helping Ma leap over some orange-colored bushes.

  “If he wasn’t trying to cannibalize us, I might actually feel sorry for him.”

  “Are you kidding?” he yelled back. “He’ll chew us up and use our bones for rattles!”

  The demon spawn was gaining on us.

  “Kiran, try to slow him down with some arrows!” Neel yelled as he helped Baba regain his balance over a tough patch of magenta stones.

  I shot a couple of well-aimed arrows to the demon’s nose, eye, and belly—soft spots—which didn’t seem to slow the rakkhosh down at all. In fact, the demon baby’s eyes grew red with fury.

  “Oo, you mean!” he shrieked. “Bogli eat you first! And make it hurt!”

  Dang. I probably tasted better than vinegar and chili chips. I kept booking.

  “Where are we going?”

  It was dark, but the Maya Pahar mist had a luminous quality, so I could see the outlines of shapes as we ran along. In fact, some of those fuzzy purple trees were looking a little too familiar.

  When we passed a blinking neon sign, I knew my suspicions were right:

  THANKS FOR VISITING THE

  MOUNTAINS OF ILLUSIONS

  HOME OF THE ANDROMEDA STAR NURSERY!

  BE SURE TO VISIT THE WELL OF DARK ENERGY

  (IF YOU CAN FIND IT)!

  TAKE A TOUR OF THE WORLD’S OLDEST

  HALLUCINATION AND STAR FACTORY!

  MAYA PAHAR: OUR ILLUSIONS ARE

  YOUR DELUSIONS.

  COME BACK SOON!

  “‘Our illusions are your delusions’?” Baba panted as we ran past the sign. “A terrible slogan! I was just reading in the New Jersey small business owners’ newsletter how the right branding is very important to customer loyalty …”

  “Never mind that now!” I yelled. “If we keep going in this direction, we’re going to go back to …”

  I didn’t have to finish my sentence, because right in front of us was a familiar shoreline.

  “Oh, rotting tail feathers!” Tuntuni squawked. “It’s Demon Land again!”

  It was. I’d recognize that carcass-riddled coast anywhere. Only, the moving land masses apparently decided it was a good time to start shifting. We stumbled as the ground beneath our feet started moving in a smooth semicircle. It was what I imagine it might be like to watch tectonic plates shift—like when Africa broke away from Europe—just in superfast time-lapse photography.

  Demon Land’s shoreline shifted one way, and Maya Pahar’s another. To the left, the Ruby Red Sea came into view, with some of its peacock barges lined up close to the shore. It was a strange sight—three different land masses each rotating away from the other. And we were at the point of the bizarre triangle.

  Tuntuni flew off Baba’s shoulders to scout the moving ledge. “It’s not too far—you’ll have to jump for the barges!”

  “You must be illusional and delusional!” cried Baba.

  But Bogli the demon was gaining on us quickly. The ground trembled and the air was filled with his spoiled-eggy breath.

  “Bogli eat you now!”

  “It’s the only way,” Neel said apologetically to Ma and Baba. “I’ll go last to help you all make it.”

  I looked at my parents, who nodded. Demonic wheatgrass shots, check. Ridiculous level of faith in Neel, check. No other choices, check.

  I decided to jump first. If it wasn’t possible to hit the boat from here, I wanted it to be me who found that out.

  “I’ll go to make sure—” I started saying, when a shrieking voice cut me off.

  “In my belly!”

  “Go!” I felt Neel’s hand push me, and I was in the air. I fell for a ridiculously long time, but somehow, miraculously, made it. I landed with a thunk on the floor of a peacock barge. “Come on!”

  Baba and Tuni came next. Well, Baba came next but the bird flew alongside h
im as he fell, shouting encouragement. He actually ended up hitting the water, but it was a short swim into the boat. As I dragged him in, I yelled up to Ma and Neel, “Let’s go!”

  They didn’t have a lot of time. The demon was gaining on them. I was sweating bullets. Would they make it?

  “Bweakfast! Lunch! Din-din! Snack!” The demon’s claw was right over their heads.

  “Jump!”

  Neel and Ma leaped, hand in hand. But at the last minute, one of the demon’s talons caught on Ma’s sari. She lost hold of Neel’s hand.

  “No!” he yelled, trying to reach her. In mid-fall, he threw her his sword. Which—and this is the real testimony to how much horsepower must’ve been in that dark energy goo—Ma actually caught.

  “Me eat the mommy! Me eat the mommy!” the demon brat howled.

  “Hya!” And that’s when my mother—my sweet-making, inventory-taking, ever practical, ever optimistic mother—did the bravest thing I have ever seen her do. Just as I had sliced through Lal’s scarf to free him from the demon on our front lawn, Ma sliced through the loose end of her sari, leaving the demon rug rat bereft and meal-less.

  Unfortunately, it also left Ma without anything to hang on to, nowhere near the peacock barge. She fell like a rock—right over Demon Land.

  Ma!” I screamed. I couldn’t watch, I couldn’t watch, I couldn’t watch!

  Baba and I grabbed each other and held on.

  My eyes were closed, but I opened them when Tuntuni exhaled. “She’s okay!”

  Unfortunately, what I saw made me scream again. Ma was alive, yes, but she wasn’t exactly safe. When Ma cut herself free, she fell in the direction of Demon Land. And on that awful shore was a very familiar figure.

  “Ai-Ma!” Neel shouted.

  “Ma!” I yelled at the same time.

  The drooling old crone held my mother in the palm of her ginormous, warty hand. Ma was looking right at her, her hands in a “namaskar.” I couldn’t hear what Ma was saying, but she seemed to be pleading for her life.

  “Bogli hungwy!” the demon brat wailed from the border of Maya Pahar, but we all ignored him. The border had shifted even farther away from us now, and the baby demon didn’t seem to know how to get to us.

  I focused on what was going on in Demon Land. I aimed my bow and arrow, not caring that it was Neel’s grandma I was aiming at.

  “Let her go, Ai-Ma!” My voice shook with fury. I didn’t come this far to see my mother get eaten.

  “Kiran, please!” Neel begged.

  But I didn’t let him distract me from my target. My arrow was pointed right at the old rakkhoshi’s chest. “Put her down!”

  And that’s when Ai-Ma shocked the heck out of all of us. She reached her knobbly hand in Ma’s direction, and, very gently, patted her on the head.

  “Ai-Ma isn’t so old she can’t recognize a girl from a boy, or a prince from a pup,” the crone cackled. As she guffawed, her hairy cheeks puffed out in pleasure. “You have a very brave—and yummy-smelling—daughter,” she told Ma, her rough voice carrying over the distance.

  Ai-Ma’s lips were covered with drool and her tongue waggled a little, but she walked straight toward the shore of the Ruby Red Sea. No sign of even nibbling a little on her captive. The arm bearing my mother reached out farther and farther from the old rakkhoshi’s shoulder, until, like some extendable fire hose, it reached our peacock barge.

  “I give you back to your little coconut beanpole.” Ai-Ma—or rather, Ai-Ma’s extended hand—gently deposited Ma in the barge. “Your nub-nub was good company to old Ai-Ma, and old Ai-Ma always remembers a favor.”

  Before it retracted, Ai-Ma’s warty hand chucked me under the chin. I know she was trying to be gentle, but she made my teeth seriously rattle.

  “Be good, sweet beetle-dung toadstools,” she cooed from the distant shore.

  I threw down my bow and arrow in the bottom of the barge and held my mother tight.

  “Thank you, Ai-Ma, thank you!” I yelled as Neel and Baba pushed the barge farther and farther away from the shore of both Demon Land and Maya Pahar.

  “Head straight across the sea and you will make it home!” Ai-Ma waved to us, a three-toothed grin on her face. “I make it a rule not to eat mommies while their boo-boos watch,” she called as we sailed. “It’s bad for my digestion!”

  * * *

  “What a nice grandmother you have, Prince Neelkamal.” Ma beamed. We’d been sailing for a while into the Ruby Red Sea, and everything seemed relatively calm.

  Baba had stopped hugging Ma, and now was just wiping tears away and thanking Neel. “Yes, a very nice … erm … woman.” Ma elbowed him, making him cough. “Most charming.”

  I shook my head and smiled as I looked out over the calm, dark waters. People—even demon people—really surprised you sometimes.

  “How is my brother?” Ma asked Neel. “And my lovely niece, how is she keeping up with her stable-hand duties?”

  “Wait, Neel knows your brother?”

  “The prince didn’t tell you, darling?” Baba was rowing us into the dark night, with Tuni perched comfortably on his shoulder. “We were knowing something unexpected might happen around your twelfth birthday, so we took some precautions.”

  Ma patted my arm. “It was your uncle Rahul, the stable master, who suggested that the Princes Lalkamal and Neelkamal might be dispatched to help you.”

  “Wait,” I said, “let me get this straight. Lal and Neel’s stable master is your brother?”

  My mother nodded.

  Neel had just finished explaining the Queen’s unfortunate decision to eat Lal and Mati, and their subsequent transformation into inanimate objects.

  I pointed at the humming silver object in Neel’s sling. “So that bowling ball is my cousin?” No wonder Mati felt so familiar to me.

  “Oh, yes,” Baba agreed. “But as you know, where we come from, even the most distant cousin is called a sister.”

  My cousin Mati, I thought. My sister Mati. After having had so little family for so long—and then recently discovering some less-than-desirable family members—it was nice to know I had some normal relatives. If you count someone who was trapped inside a silver bowling ball—and occassionally turned into a solar phenomenon—normal.

  “I can’t believe we still don’t know how to get them b-a-ck.” Neel kind of sputtered that last word, because just then, the boat lurched to the right.

  “Oh, I think I have an idea,” I said. “The golden branch in the poem must mean …” I stopped mid-thought, because the boat swayed again.

  “What was that?” Ma looked over the edge. “The water seems so calm.”

  “Oh, nothing,” said Tuni drowsily. “We’re almost—”

  But he couldn’t finish his sentence because the next lurch of the boat sent him flying off Baba’s shoulder and onto the floor of the barge. We all collapsed to the left.

  “I’m getting a bad feeling about this …” I drew an arrow from my quiver.

  But before I had a chance to shoot it I was coughing up water from a wave that rushed over the entire boat. We were knee-deep and the boat was still tossing on the newly rough seas.

  “Bail! Bail!” Neel yelled, his hair streaming into his face. We all grabbed whatever we could to chuck water overboard, but all of our hard work was meaningless when the next big wave swept over the peacock barge in a few minutes.

  “Are we all okay?” Neel shouted. I took a glance around. Except for being drenched, and the terrified expressions, we all seemed to be in one piece.

  But the respite was half as long as the last time. I’d only just scooped a couple quiverfuls of water out of the boat when another wave hit.

  “Gaak!” Tuni went overboard, but Baba grabbed a feathery wing and yanked him back.

  “I’m afraid this doesn’t seem like an altogether natural storm,” Ma ventured, ever grammatical, even in a crisis.

  There was a weird sucking sound coming from somewhere. A hole in the boat? I looked around at o
ur soggy barge, but couldn’t find one.

  “What makes you say that?” I shouted over the now rushing winds.

  Wordlessly, she pointed at the sea. I felt my heart drop.

  “Neel!” I yelled. He was still bailing water from the back of the boat with my boot. “I think you’d better see this!”

  All around our boat rose a wall of spinning water, inclined like the steep seats at an auditorium. Only, this was theater in the round, and we were the performers.

  “We’re in the middle of a whirlpool!”

  The sucking sound was the water below us getting pulled downward. To make matters worse, on the top edges of the giant water tornado were what looked like gigantic rakkhosh fangs.

  “Yum! Yum! In my tum!”

  The all-too-familiar voice echoed weirdly from within the unnatural torrent of water.

  “Oh gods! He’s more powerful than I thought!” yelled Neel. “This isn’t a whirlpool; it’s that demon brat’s open mouth—and he’s going to eat us all!”

  That snot-nosed newborn demon transformed himself into a whirlpool?” I screamed furiously at Neel. “Is there more stuff you people can do that you didn’t tell me?” I rowed like a wild thing, as did all of us, but our boat was going nowhere.

  “He shouldn’t be able to! A newborn practice that kind of complicated magic? I’ve never heard such a thing,” Neel protested. “There has to be someone helping him!”

  There weren’t enough oars, and he was bent over the side trying to muscle us physically up the mountain of water. But it wasn’t working. For every few inches we moved forward, we moved more back down toward the whirlpool’s center.

  “Well, he’s obviously smarter than we gave him credit for!” I could barely see, there was so much water rushing into my eyes.

  “Stop arguing, for goodness’ sake,” Baba said, putting his shoulder into his oaring. “It’s not very royal behavior on either of your parts!”

  “Oh dear, I’m afraid we are traversing backward,” Ma piped in.