by Payal Doshi
“Once the Queen disappeared, the soldiers surrendered,” said Flula, her glow a mellow mauve.
“Her evil man-bird disappeared too,” added Leela.
“And I suppose the minister who brought out Rohan is gone too?”
Everyone nodded.
“Naturally, the rest of the Court rushed to offer us their sincerest apologies, citing their forced hand in servitude to Razya,” Bajai said.
“No doubt they want to keep their cushy jobs under your grandmother’s rule, now that she is Queen again.” A smile appeared on Amma’s face. “Feels like we’ve gone back in time.”
“Are you really going to stay here and take your place as Queen?” Rea asked, looking at Bajai.
“I must, mustn’t I?” Bajai grinned with a twinkle.
“What can I say, Astranthia be restored!” Poppy exclaimed, raising his mottled arms.
A cheer went around and Leela sighed. “Come tomorrow, life goes back to normal.”
“Same,” said Xeranther, fiddling with a stalk of grass. “I’ll be back to selling my trinkets and wares.”
“Well...” said Rohan. “If you’d like me to get kidnapped again so you can have another adventure, let me know. I’m sure I can try and arrange it.”
“No, no. That’s not what we meant!” Xeranther and Leela laughed.
“The only reign I’ve ever known was Queen Razya’s, I mean, ex-Queen Razya’s and I didn’t like it.” A flush spread to Xeranther’s ears. “Never did I imagine sitting around a fire with the royal family, laughing with them.”
“That’s because you’re not sitting with the royal family,” Bajai said. She turned to Leela, Flula, and Xeranther. “You’re sitting with family.”
Xeranther beamed. Flula glowed pink, showering everyone with a healthy dose of pari dust and Leela smiled so wide she could have lit up Astranthia for miles.
Leaving Bajai, the reinstated Queen Yuthika of Astranthia, to remain at the castle and get its affairs back in order, Amma, Rea, Rohan, and Leela portaled to Earth. Meruk twinkled with diyas and fairy lights. Firecrackers sparkled on the streets and rockets exploded in the sky. Bollywood songs blared from loudspeakers.
“Today is Diwali,” exclaimed Leela as they entered their neighborhood. There was a loud shriek in the distance, and Leela’s Amma ran to greet them, enveloping Leela in a giant hug.
“Where have you been?” her Amma cried, tears running down her cheeks. “We were so, so worried, my baccha!” Leela grinned in shock and returned her mother’s embrace.
Colorful lanterns twirled in the breeze and beautiful rangolis glittered in diya-light. Strangers greeted them with “Happy Diwali!” and when the residents of Tombu saw Rohan, they rejoiced.
“Our Ram has returned!” The aunties pinched his cheeks and popped a ladoo into his mouth. “You gave us such a fright.”
Rea watched from the sidelines, her heart abloom with happiness. She was glad to see the neighborhood welcoming her brother home. One of the aunties caught sight of her. With a sound of joy, she pulled Rea into a hug. The other aunties pinched her cheeks, just as they had done with Rohan, and handed her a sparkler.
EPILOGUE
“I need time to get used to the idea of living in the castle I was imprisoned in,” said Rohan. “It doesn’t quite spell ‘home’ to me yet, you know.”
It had been a month since they returned, and Amma told Rea and Rohan they could take their time in deciding whether they wanted to move to Astranthia, and said she’d be okay if they chose to live on Earth, too. Her main concern was for them to feel safe. As for their royal duties, Bajai had employed a tutor during their once-a-week visits to the castle and relayed that the arrangement, although resulting in slower progress, was working well. It was obvious, however, even to Rohan, who wasn’t the greatest at picking up undertones, that Amma desperately wanted to return to Astranthia.
“I hear you,” said Rea, dipping her roti into her bowl of dal. “I’ve actually begun to appreciate the dullness of going to school and doing homework without the burden of saving or destroying any member of our family.”
Rohan agreed and Leela sighed.
“Astranthia was the most incredible experience of my life and I can’t believe there exists another realm nobody knows about except us.” She grew silent, playing with the peas in her pulao. “I miss it. I miss the rush I felt there. And I miss Xee and Floo the most.”
Rea missed them too, but she didn’t talk about it since Rohan was still recovering.
“Have you both decided what you’re going to do?” asked Leela.
“There’s so much to consider,” said Rohan. “What about school? My cricket practices? It’s been my dream to be a batsman in the Indian cricket team. But then again, I might be the future King of Astranthia.”
Rea remembered the Queen’s warning of Amma and Bajai choosing Rohan to be groomed as king and strangely, she felt okay if it turned out that way. Rohan would make a great king, she thought.
Leela stared at her plate. “I’m really going to miss you guys when you leave for good. I wish it didn’t have to be a secret...” She looked from Rea to Rohan and shoved her spoon into her mound of rice.
“What about you?’ Rohan asked Rea.
“I don’t know. Our nectar training sessions begin with Oleandra soon and seeing her reminds me of the bloodoath. Amma and Bajai don’t know about it yet and I’m going to have to tell them soon. The whole thing scares me... And frankly, I think I’m more Earthling than Astranthian. Although we’re royalty there, the thought of leaving Darjeeling, Meruk, and even Tombu makes me sad. I like it here. Shocking, I know. But then there’s Astranthia with its whimsy and magic and Xee and Floo and the buds and the pari-golis and oh, I just don’t know...”
The clock struck eight thirty.
“Shoot. I better get home.”
Right then Leela’s Amma yelled for her and Leela scowled. “Of all the times I’ve run away, how did she realize I was gone this time? You know, she’s given me a cell phone, so she can check up on me every time she doesn’t see me for five minutes.”
Rea and Rohan chuckled and Leela peeked into the kitchen to thank Amma for dinner.
Rea clasped Leela’s hands. “Next week, tell your Amma you’re coming with me and Rohan on a trip to Mumbai and we’ll go to Astranthia for the weekend and hang with Xee and Floo.”
Leela’s face lit up. “And we’ll show Rohan a clump or two!”
Rea giggled, imagining Rohan’s reaction at seeing a walking piece of grass. She waited until Leela reached home and they waved goodnight. Turning to go back inside, something on the welcome mat poked her foot and she picked it up. It was a scrap of crimson paper.
“tHe sHAdoWS aRE cOmiNG,” it read.
Rea turned pale. This wasn’t over yet.
GLOSSARY
agarbatti [uh-gurh-but-tee] noun: Hindi word for incense sticks
Amma [Uh-maa] noun: an Indian word (one of many) for mother
Ashoka tree [uh-sho-ka tree] noun: The Ashoka tree grows in the Indian subcontinent. It is a tall, conical tree with deep green leaves, growing in dense clusters.
Baba noun: an Indian word (one of many) for father
baccha [baa-chha] noun: Hindi and Nepali word for child
Bajai [Ba-zai] noun: an informal Nepali word for grandmother. Darjeeling, which is in the state of West Bengal, India, is home to immigrants from Nepal, Sikkim, Tibet, Bhutan and even Europe.
bindi [bin-dee] noun: an ornamental dot worn by Hindu women in the middle of the forehead or between the eyebrows
chai noun: a type of Indian tea, made by boiling tea leaves with milk, sugar, and cardamom
chalo [chha-low] intr. verb: Hindi word (informal) for let’s go
chappals [cha-pul] noun: a pair of sandals, usually of leather, worn in India
chikoos [chee-koos] noun: a brown fruit with a rough skin but sweet brown pulp inside. Each fruit may have 4 or 5 black seeds. It is native to southern Mexico, Central America and
the Caribbean, but is largely grown in India. It is also commonly known as sapota, sapodilla, naseberry, nispero.
dal [daal] noun: a thick Indian lentil stew
deva [dey-va] noun: a Sanskrit word for heavenly, divine, or god in Hinduism. Deva is a masculine term; the feminine equivalent is devi.
dhupi [dhoo-pee] noun: common Nepali name for Cryptomeria japonica trees
Diwali [Dee-vah-lee] noun: a major Hindu festival held in late October or early November that heralds in the New Year as per the Hindu calendar and celebrates the triumph of good over evil as depicted in the Hindu epic Ramayana
diya [dee-yah] noun: a small oil lamp, usually made from clay
dupatta [du-pat-ta] noun: a long wide scarf draped across the shoulders over a salwar kameez
jhumkas [jhoom-kahs] noun: Hindi word for a pair of traditional chandelier earrings designed in the shape of a bell
joint family noun: a family (especially in India), consisting typically of three or more generations, living together as a single household. It is a large family where the grandparents, father, mother, uncle, aunty, and their children live unitedly under one roof.
kaccha [kuh-cha] adjective: Hindi word for a dirt road or an unpaved road
keti [kay-tee] noun: Nepali word for girl
koel [ko-el] noun: The Asian koel is a member of the cuckoo order of birds, the Cuculiformes. It is found in the Indian Subcontinent, China, and Southeast Asia. The Asian koel is a brood parasite that lays its eggs in the nests of crows and other hosts, who raise its young. It is usually held in high regard for its birdsong.
laddoo [lud-doo] noun: a ball-shaped sweet popular in the Indian subcontinent
momos noun: a type of steamed dumpling with some form of filling either meat or vegetarian. It is a traditional delicacy in Nepal, Tibet, as well as for the people of Northeast India and Darjeeling regions of India.
pagal [paa-gal] adjective: Nepali and Hindi word for crazy
pakora [puh-ko-ra] also pakoda [puh-ko-dah] noun: an Indian fried snack
pallu [puh-loo] noun: a Hindi word for the decorated end of a saree that hangs loose when worn
papadum [pa-puh-dum] noun: (also called papad) a thin, crisp, round flatbread from the Indian subcontinent eaten as an appetizer or an accompaniment to a meal. Made from flour, it can be either fried or cooked with dry heat (usually flipping it over an open flame)
phoosky [phoos-key] adjective: Hindi word for someone or something that disappoints or does not meet expectations; a damp squib
pulao [poo-la-o] noun: a steamed rice dish often with meat, shellfish, or vegetables in a seasoned broth
Ram [Raam] noun: the Prince of Ayodhya in the Hindu epic Ramayana in which he returns to his kingdom after being banished for fourteen years and after winning the battle of good against evil by rescuing his wife Sita, who is kidnapped by the ten-headed demon-king of Lanka
rangoli [rang-o-lee] noun: a traditional Indian art form using colored sand or powder to decorate a floor, courtyard, or other flat surface, especially during the festival of Diwali
Ravana [Raa-va-na] noun: the mythical ten-headed demon-king of Lanka in the Hindu epic Ramayana in which he kidnaps Prince Ram’s wife Sita
receding monsoons/receding rains noun: (also known as the retreating monsoon) The monsoon season in India lasts from June to September. During September, when the monsoon is about to leave, the northeast winds gain strength and push out the southwest monsoon winds. This action of winds creates thunderstorms causing rainfall. This phenomenon is known as the receding rains or the retreating monsoon and generally takes place in the months of October and November.
roti [row-tee] noun: a flat bread, thinner and softer than a tortilla usually accompanied with Indian food
salwar kameez [sal-war kam-eez] noun: a pair of loose pajama-like pants, narrowing at the ankles, worn with a long loose tunic, typically up to the knees; chiefly worn by women from the Indian subcontinent
saree [sa-ree] noun: a garment consisting of a length of cotton or silk elaborately draped around the body, traditionally worn by women from India
shikara [she-kaa-ra] noun: a flat-bottomed boat
thukpa [thook-paa] noun: a Himalayan staple of hot noodle soup mixed with meat, eggs and vegetables
tiffin box noun: a compartmentalized lunch box used in India
tulsi [tul-see] noun: Hindi word for holy basil
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to begin by thanking my publisher, Sailaja Joshi, a true visionary and a champion of bringing diverse books into the world. The email you sent me in September 2019 asking to chat about my manuscript changed my life. The publishing process can be a tough and trying journey (as it certainly was for me) but it’s been nothing short of extraordinary to be a part of your vision and to undertake this exciting journey with the whole team at Mango and Marigold Press. Thank you so much.
How do I even begin thanking my incredible, wonderful, wildly talented, and brilliant editor, Amy Maranville. As a writer in the querying and submission trenches, I dreamed of my book landing in an editor’s inbox and having them fall in love with it. But even in those dreams, I didn’t think I would be so lucky as to find someone who understood me as a writer, my characters, and the essence of the story I was telling as much as you did. I cannot thank you enough for seeing the potential in this book and trusting that with your guidance, I could make it the best version of itself. The book has blossomed under your care as I have grown as a writer. I’m blessed to have found a friend, a confidante and one of my biggest supporters in you, and the best part: working with you has been such a load of fun! I never imagined that the young girl who began this book ten years ago in Mumbai, India, would find the editor of her dreams across the seven seas. Thank you for your unwavering support, belief in me, and for not deleting most of my flowery prose and metaphors that you know I love so much!
They say you need a village to raise a child and I can say the same about writing a book. Without my village, this book would not exist. I’m eternally grateful to—
My amazing parents, Asha and Chetan Doshi, who unflinchingly and with excitement said, “Go follow your dreams!” when I asked if I could leave my job, stay at home and write a book. I would not have had the courage to start this journey without your support.
Mom, for all the times, you went to the library when I was a little girl and brought home creased copies of The Famous Five, The Secret Seven, Nancy Drew, and Anne of Green Gables, you inculcated in me my love for books which to this day remains my place of comfort and escape. We all know you are the most gifted storyteller in the family, and I’m so glad to have inherited a sliver of your gift. Our mother-daughter trip to Darjeeling for conducting research on the book is one of my most cherished memories. Dad, thank you for making me fall in love with the art of storytelling and with the power of a carefully chosen word when you told me if I learned five new words a day, I’d know 1825 new words a year! That made me buy a pocket dictionary which I kept in my bag (a dictionary I still own and carried well into my late twenties) so I always had a way to look up a word I didn’t understand when I read in trains, taxis, cars and any place I had a free minute. Your way with words astounds me to this day.
To my insightful and incredible critique partners:
Sangeeta Ramakrishnan, my best friend (the truest of all BFFs) and book-reading-partner since we were twelve, what would I do without you? This book would have had some very limp characters if it wasn’t for your straight-shooting, honest feedback. No matter the time of day or the number of things on your to-do list, all I have to do is demand that you read my draft and you do it without question. You’ve been my very first reader and the only one who has read every single draft. I couldn’t ask for a better friend—you lift me up in every aspect of my life.
To Mary Anne Williams, who would have thought two writers from the opposite ends of the world would marry into the same family and become the closest of friends and writing buddies? Your insights from a we
stern perspective and that of a mother (I wasn’t one yet when I was finishing the book) have been a pivotal part of Rea’s story. With all that you do as a writer and an amazing mom of four, thank you for always encouraging my dream.
To Ratik Jain, my very first kid reader who gave me a written review which I was most fearful of reading! Your lovely words meant the world to me and pushed me to strive harder when the road turned bumpy. You asked each time we met when the book would be published, and I’m thrilled I can finally give you a copy! To Jesse Williams, my second kid reader, who on vacation chose to read my book over playing with his brother and sisters in the snow. Thank you both so much.
To my sister, Pooja Doshi-Sharma, who continuously inspires me with her boss-mama ways and is the idol I strive to be. To my in-laws, Kamal and Boman Moradian, who supported my dream through my toughest times. To Lakshmi Iyer, your razor sharp-intelligence, thoroughness, patience, 1AM discussions and take-no-nonsense attitude got me over the finish line. I thank you all infinitely.
To my teachers at The New School where I completed my MFA program, specifically Helen Schulman who was a wonderful mentor and inspiration, and my thesis advisor Sarah Ketchersid whose suggestion of making Rea win the cricket match instead of losing it was a turning point in the book. I hope that one day you get to read this book that you’ve had such an influence on. To my wonderful thesis partners, Samhita Ayyagari, Matthew Mallum and Courtney England—through all our writing days, there was never a dull moment! Your critiques on the not-so-good parts and the high-fives on the good-parts have indelibly shaped this book.
To Beverly Johnson, illustrator extraordinaire, who brought Rea to life more fiercely than I could have hoped for. Not to mention, the chapter illustrations and maps you created—they are simply amazing. To Megan Boshuyzen, who designed the cover (among several other book-related creations) and patiently accommodated my many, many suggestions and requests—you came through for me every single time. To Rachel Marchant, the first person I corresponded with at Mango and Marigold Press, who has been instrumental in every aspect of the book from the cover reveal to book launch. The book wouldn’t be what it is without your efforts. To Marcie Taylor, my publicist and all-round coordinator of things, I’m thrilled to have you in my corner as we navigate through book promotions, marketing, and publicity. To Kate Perry, Nina Bhattacharya and Gaby Brabazon for their incredible insights, thought-provoking critiques, and words of encouragement. Thank you all.
