Aru Shah and the Song of Death

by Roshani Chokshi

  Before their eyes, the trail of smoke began to glow. The card spoke again.

  “Please proceed to the highlighted route. Then your route guidance will begin.”

  Aiden Brings the Smolder

  Aru, Aiden, and Brynne followed the bright smoke out the door.

  The second they crossed the threshold of the chaat shop, Aru felt a pull of magic right behind her belly button. It was the same feeling she got every time she used a portal. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, they were no longer on a street in Edison, New Jersey. Instead, they were standing on a stretch of lawn facing a massive building. The trail of bright smoke led right to the front door.

  It was, Aru thought, the most unmagical structure she had ever seen. Squat, long, screaming nine-to-five adult job, and painted a shade of depressed supermarket egg. And yet, she knew they were somewhere in the Otherworld, because no matter which direction she faced, she found herself staring at the same building. It didn’t feel like winter here. It didn’t feel like anything. Aru couldn’t even see the sun.

  “Freaky,” said Aiden, spinning in a circle.

  “That is the Department of Many Voices?” asked Brynne.

  “Definitely looks like a DMV,” said Aiden.

  “Not only the DMV,” said Aru, looking at the plain white sign on the lawn. In small letters, it read ASHRAM. Whenever Aru thought of an ashram, she imagined a posh spa where rich people paid someone to identify the color of their aura. But she knew that the word ashram had originated in India. It was like a monastery, a place where hermits went. The austere outside of the DMV definitely fit that definition.

  The three of them walked up the sidewalk and through the pair of glass entrance doors. In the lobby—which had both hand sanitizer and hoof sanitizer dispensers on a stand—there was a wide reception desk with a calendar and a box of paperclips, and a box of what looked like Kleenex but read: CURSE WIPES. A girl their age poked her head up behind the desk. She was a fair-skinned nature spirit, a yakshini, with tendrils of frost for hair. A badge on her black shirt read:

  WINTER INTERN

  MY NAME IS IRIS. HOW CAN I HELP?

  “What,” said the yakshini girl, clearly bored, when they approached the desk.

  Brynne stepped forward and slid the S. Durvasa business card across the table. “We were referred by Lord Kamadeva, the god of love—”

  “Identification,” the yakshini said in the same exact tone.

  “I’m getting to that,” said Brynne, bristling. “You see, we’re actually Pandavas—”

  “Right, and I’m Kim Kardashian,” said the girl. “The wait time will be”—she paused to consult a stack of papers on her desk—“three centuries. You can take your place in—”

  “THREE CENTURIES?!” exploded Brynne.

  “If you’d like to lodge a complaint about the wait time, please fill out this form in standard blood-of-my-enemies ink,” said the girl. A piece of paper popped up in front of each of their faces—except, in Brynne’s case, the piece of paper smacked her in the nose. “Please take your number and have a seat.”

  “You can’t speed it up? Please, Iris?” asked Aru, flashing her most charming smile.

  Iris reared back as if Aru had a super-contagious gum disease.

  “Um, no,” said the girl. “If you want to be first in line, you’ve got to have one of these”—she paused to wave a glowing green ticket sitting on her desk—“and you don’t. So sit down or get out!”

  Aru was going to try again, but Brynne yanked on her sleeve. Aru followed her and Aiden to the entrance, which was out of the yakshini’s range of hearing.

  “What?” asked Aru.

  “We gotta get that green ticket,” said Brynne.

  “How are we going to do that?” Aru laughed. “Just pluck it out of her hands and run?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. You know what that means, Aiden.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t make me do it—”

  “It’s the only way!”

  “What’s the only way?”

  “So, as the kid of an elite apsara, Aiden can—”

  He groaned loudly.

  “Aiden can what?” asked Aru excitedly. “Ooh! Can he summon a flash mob? Will we all start dancing in perfect choreography? Like everyone does ‘Thriller’ at the same time, and then we take the ticket and run?”

  “Aiden can smolder,” explained Brynne. “It’s temporary, obviously, but the effects should last for at least an hour, which is long enough for S. Durvasa to see us.”

  Aru was very confused. First, because smoldering sounded like a talent only the Rock could pull off. Second, did that mean Aiden was going to burst into flames? Because, sure, that’d be a pretty decent distraction while she and Brynne took the ticket.

  “You know how apsaras were always sent to distract sages?” said Brynne.

  Aru nodded. In stories, apsaras were the ultimate temptation, because they were unnaturally beautiful and magical. Between spending time with a celestial Miss Universe or meditating in a forest, there’s clearly a winning choice.

  “Well, apsaras have a kind of hypnotic power. They can render themselves impossible to look away from, and even make people follow them,” said Aiden. Then, without looking at either of them, he added, “AndIcandothattooand­thatwayyoucanstealthe­ticket.”

  Aru bit back a cackle. “So…when you do this whole smolder thing, does it look like a Bollywood movie? Will someone burst into song? Invisible wind and all that?”

  Brynne elbowed her, but a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  “I’m only doing this for Mini,” he said, and stomped off.

  That sobered Aru immediately. She and Brynne watched as Aiden approached the yakshini at the desk.

  “Be careful not to look at Aiden’s face, okay?” whispered Brynne. “It sounds like a dumb power, but it’s dangerous. Even more dangerous if you’re into him.”

  Aru snorted. “Good thing I’m not.”

  Brynne looked like she was about to say something, but instead she nodded and gestured Aru forward. “Okay, let’s go.”

  When Aru looked up, Aiden was still standing there. Enchantment radiated off him, pulling the light differently so that he appeared as if in a beam of sunshine. The yakshini girl was standing too, staring at him as if he’d told her she’d a) won the lottery b) gotten her letter from Hogwarts and c) soon be receiving a lifetime supply of Oreos. That’s some smolder, thought Aru, as she and Brynne crept to the desk.

  “Watch the entrance,” said Brynne.

  Aru did. But even though she avoided looking at Aiden, she could still hear him. His voice changed, and not in that sudden broken way of the guys in her grade. He sounded the same, but it was like someone had lined his voice with velvet.

  “Hey! Aru!” Brynne waved the green ticket in her face. “Let’s go! Aiden!”

  “I’m here,” said Aiden.

  Aru was very glad his voice had returned to normal.

  “I wish I had smolder power,” she said.

  “I don’t,” said Aiden, shuddering as if he felt bugs crawling on his skin. “I only use it in case of emergencies.”

  “Why?”

  He turned his camera in his hands before pressing a button that once more concealed it, and his bag, inside a magical watch. “I’ve seen my aunts and uncles take it too far…. It doesn’t seem right to do that to someone when they didn’t agree to it.”

  By now, the three of them had turned the corner from the yakshini’s desk and come to a great spiral staircase. At the bottom of the steps stretched a wide room filled with a hundred or so rickety wooden seats facing a row of empty glass-framed booths. It reminded Aru of the lobby of a dentist’s office. Some of the Otherworld members were slumped over, fast asleep. Others were wide-awake, yelling at their laptops while they waited. The lights overhead were white moths, fluttering around aimlessly and spreading a strange luminescence that reminded Aru of cafeteria lighting. In the corner sat a dark-skinned g
andharva, a celestial musician with bright golden wings. At first he didn’t see them, because he was listening to an ancient-looking stereo with huge headphones. He took them off when the group got closer.

  “Good luck to you, dudes,” said the gandharva. “They’ve all been on the longest lunch break.”

  “Who has?” asked Aru.

  “The sages…duh.”

  Above the booths were little neon signs bearing the names of various sages: BHRIGU, KINDAMA, NARADA—and DURVASA!

  “They’re probably meditating or something,” said the gandharva, irritated. “We’ve no choice but to wait for them to be done. A few minutes ago, Sage Narada stopped by, but I couldn’t talk to him, because I was in the middle of listening to this sick solo. So he cursed me to keep waiting, and to lose all sense of time.” The musician laughed. “But don’t worry—that’s just talk. It’s still 1972!”

  “Actually—” started Aiden.

  “PANDAVAS,” boomed a voice coming from the Durvasa booth.

  Aru’s heart rate kicked up a bit. They needed Durvasa to help them bring back Mini. Surely he would, right? Mini had mentioned his name for a reason.

  In a corner, a light-skinned girl with antlers rocked back and forth, muttering, “Nextinlinenextinline­nextinline…”

  Aru, Aiden, and Brynne walked over to the booth. A little metal box marked TICKETS hopped up and down until Brynne dropped the green ticket into the slot. There was a shimmer in the air and an old man appeared behind the glass. He had a generous belly, nut-brown skin, and black hair piled into a matted bun on top of his head. He was wearing a white polo shirt with a small badge that read:

  S. DURVASA

  THE ANSWER IS NO

  This was the great sage?

  “I didn’t like him, he had a horrible haircut,” the sage was muttering. He started scribbling something in his book. “And did he offer me a place to sit? Inquire about my health? No! And he breathed through his mouth. Disgusting. Hmm…What to do, what to do? Ha!”

  He licked his pen and wrote in the air. Sparkling letters appeared:

  May all the chocolate chip cookies you reach for turn out to be cleverly disguised oatmeal raisin.

  “Yes, yes.” He cackled to himself. “FEAR ME, MORTAL!”

  The sage steepled his fingers together. He riffled through someone’s file and scoffed. “Ugh. This person asks for a mantra for better sleep? This is what people choose to waste my time with? Abominable. Oh yes, I have a blessing for you—”

  Once more, he wrote in the air:

  When you go to bed, may both sides of your pillow be slightly too warm, and may your door keep opening a crack as soon as you get sleepy.

  Aiden inhaled sharply, whispering, “Harsh.”

  But the sage wasn’t done. His list of curses continued:

  May your spoon always fall in your cereal.

  May you always fumble with your credit card in Starbucks when there’s a huge line behind you.

  May your towel after a shower always be a smidge too far to reach, so you have to step out.

  “Hey—” started Brynne, but Aru yanked her arm.

  The sage paused. It seemed as if he was giving them a moment to decide whether or not to disturb him. They were hardly a foot away. There was no way the sage couldn’t see them, but Aru felt a prickle of foreboding. This was a test.

  She remembered Kamadeva’s warning: BE VERY POLITE.

  Something itched at the back of Aru’s skull. There was a reason why Durvasa’s name had stuck with her…a reason why she’d been a little wary. Goose bumps pebbled her skin. She suddenly felt about the size of an ant.

  Aru tapped into the Pandava mind link.

  Brynne’s response was immediate: What is it?

  Remember the sage who cursed all the gods to lose their immortality? sent Aru. And that’s why they churned the Ocean of Milk for the nectar of immortality and everyone lost their minds and the universe descended into chaos?

  Yeah?

  Well, sent Aru, I just figured out who Durvasa is. HE’S THE SAGE WHO CURSED THEM.

  Leave the Rock Outta This

  Sage Durvasa fixed them with an angry stare.

  “Pandavas,” he said, sneering.

  “And—” Aiden started.

  The sage cut him off. “I know what I said. And I know why you’re here. You want to retrieve that obnoxious girl who has a fixation on physical illness.”

  That definitely sounded like Mini.

  “The one with the allergy card?” asked Aru.

  “Hand sanitizer?” asked Brynne.

  “Glasses?” asked Aiden.

  Durvasa made an irritated grunt. He shuffled through some things on his desk before standing up. “Yes.”

  “So, will you help us get her back?” asked Aiden.

  “It’s critical, sir,” Aru said, trying her best to sound kind. “You see, Mini knows the name of the thief who stole Kamadeva’s bow and arrow. And we have the thief’s soul song.” Brynne pulled out the necklace chain, revealing the soul-song pendant. “If we can just put everything together, we can fix the Heartless. Please?”

  Aru was going to say more, but then Brynne shouted into her brain: DON’T SOUND WEAK!

  Aru was quiet after that. She had left out parts of the story…. Like the fact that their entire connection to the Otherworld would be severed if they failed, and the fact that Boo was being held captive for crimes he didn’t commit. But maybe Brynne was right. Maybe it was better to sound heroic versus hurting.

  For a moment, it seemed as if Durvasa were considering her request. His gaze went somewhere beyond them. Then he shook himself, and his brows flattened over his black eyes.

  “No.” And with that, he exited the booth.

  Aru stood there for a moment, shocked. Mini had said Durvasa would help them…. What were they supposed to do now?

  The sage began walking down the row of glass booths. Aru, Brynne, and Aiden followed him until they got to a locked golden gate with scrollwork that looked like a fanned peacock’s tail. Durvasa opened it with a fancy key and stepped through, shutting it behind him.

  “Can we change your mind?” called Aru. “Do you like Oreos?”

  “How about lasagna?” asked Brynne. “I make great lasagna!”

  Durvasa scowled. “Oreos make my teeth look atrocious, and I despise lasagna.”

  He turned on his heel and pushed open a door beyond the golden gate. The red sign above it said DIVINITY ONLY. Durvasa slipped inside without even waving good-bye.

  “Who doesn’t like Oreos?” demanded Aru. “That’s inhuman!”

  Meanwhile, Brynne looked as if someone had punched her in the heart. “But I make great lasagna….”

  Out of nowhere, Aiden let out a hoot. Aru frowned, ready to yell at him. What was there to be happy about? Their last line of help had straight-up refused, Mini was still imprisoned, and the thief was still out there somewhere.

  But Aiden was grinning. He sat cross-legged on the floor, the kit of “unidentified necessities” on his lap. He’d chosen well in the Warehouse of Quest Materials. Aru wondered if she’d ever get a chance to use her vial containing a single “bright idea.”

  “Look,” said Aiden, holding up a large golden key. “This can change to fit any lock.”

  He got up and held the key against the lock. It transformed in his hand, assuming the same shape as the peacock design on the gate. He stuck it into the keyhole, and light burst around it. The gate swung creakily open.

  “Nice work!” said Brynne, high-fiving him.

  Out of solidarity with Mini, Aru offered only her elbow.

  “Durvasa couldn’t have gotten far,” said Aru quietly.

  The three of them snuck through the gate and then, with some trepidation, the divinity-only door. But maybe they counted, because they were part divine and Aiden had a special Pandava dispensation for this quest.

  Unlike the building’s dull exterior, the interior of the DMV was huge, like a cosmic gallery. Beneat
h them, the floor glittered, as if someone had paved it with crushed stars. The ceiling looked like that of the Night Bazaar, an open sky that was half in daylight and half in darkness. The longer Aru stared at the ceiling, the more details she noticed. Like how there seemed to be a slender silver bridge that connected day and night, and how, if she waited for the clouds to move, she could make out two grand palaces, one in each realm. The palace in the daytime half of the sky looked like it was studded with carved rubies and garnets. The palace in the nighttime half looked like it was chiseled out of sapphire and moonstone.

  But as uncanny as everything seemed, that was nothing compared to the sight on the wall opposite them. Inside a row of glass display cases, there were statues…that appeared to be alive. They twisted and morphed in place, sometimes looking human, other times resembling asuras and apsaras.

  “What is this place?” asked Brynne. “It gives me the creeps.”

  Aru walked up to a statue of a beautiful woman sitting on the ground and weeping. A metal plaque at the bottom of the case read SHAKUNTULA.

  “I know that story,” said Aiden, walking up beside her. “Shakuntula was so distracted by thoughts of her husband that she ignored the sage who came to visit her. He put a curse on her that whoever she was thinking about would forget her.”

  “That’s…hostile,” said Aru.

  “At least her husband remembered her again. I forgot how. Something to do with a fish…”

  Yeah, right, thought Aru. Because nothing says true love like a fish.

  The statue in the case beside Shakuntula was just a rock. Curious, Aru moved toward it, but Brynne grabbed her by the wrist.

  “Stop looking at statues!” she said. “We’ve got to find Durvasa! He could be anywhere.”

  “He is right behind you.”

  All three of them jumped, spinning around to face the sage. He loomed over them, his arms crossed.

  “Get out, Pandavas! The sign said ‘divinity only’!”

  “We’re divine!” countered Brynne. “Sorta?”