The Chaos Curse

by Sayantani DasGupta

  I looked at the seemingly solid tree trunk that had now captured three of my friends. “How did Lal get captured by a bhoot from the Kingdom Beyond but end up in a Norse mythological tree?”

  “It’s all a part of the greater plan,” Ned said, a mysterious smile playing at his lips.

  “What plan?” I made my voice as firm as I could and sighted my arrow right at his chest.

  Ned raised his eyebrow again, finally noticing I was aiming my bow at him. “Well, that’s rather rude.” With a little flick of Ned’s hands, another of the tree’s roots wrapped around my wrists, making it impossible for me to use my weapon.

  “Let me go!” I twisted my wrists, trying to get myself free. “Tell the tree to let me go!”

  “And why would I do that?” Ned, or rather, Nidhoggr, then murmured, “The mythical poems do foretell of three maidens deep in knowledge. Could one of these be the mythical völva foretold?”

  “Oh, yes!” I blurted out. My hands and feet now all bound, I had no weapon available to use but my tongue and brain. “Zuzu, Jovi, and me—we’re you’re three mythical maidens! You better let us go if you don’t want the Volvo thingy to … to … smite you!”

  “A völva is a female seer, not a vengeful station wagon!” Ned laughed, spitting out little sparks of fire from his mouth as he did. Annoyingly, it didn’t make him any less handsome. “The ancient poems may tell of you, but they don’t say that I can’t kill you.”

  “Kill? Kill?” my voice squeaked painfully high. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with a cute but deranged serpent-dragon boy right on Jovi’s front lawn in Parsippany, New Jersey. It was too surreal. I looked desperately up and down the deserted suburban street. Everyone was at work or school, and there wasn’t even a postal person or garbage collector around to help. Tiktiki One had vanished and not returned yet. I was on my own. I had to think fast and try to get inside this dragon kid’s head. I remembered his love of magic tricks. This guy was proud of his skills. He’d probably love a chance to show off.

  “You don’t want to kill me! What’s the fun in that?” I tried to coax a laugh out of my numb lips. “I mean, you could have killed me back behind the cafeteria or let Principal Gorgon do the job. But you didn’t, did you?” My voice was shaking now, but I pressed on. “You must have had a reason for saving me back then, right?”

  “You know, the AC Committee’s party line is that we’re all supposed to smush into one big happy story, but I’ve got to tell you, I really hate those Greek mythical creatures.” Ned pulled what at first looked like a rabbit but turned out to be a squirrel out of his magician’s hat. I was afraid for a minute he’d turn into a dragon again and tear the poor animal apart, but he let it go, and the animal scampered up the tree trunk and out of sight, in the same direction Tiktiki One had gone. I wondered what was taking the darned gecko so long.

  “The Greek stories get so much more play than us Norse stories do,” continued the boy dragon in a pouty drawl, “and it’s just not fair. Unjust, I tell you! But then again, you know what that’s like. I mean, your stories are practically forgotten.”

  “What do you mean?” I was trying desperately to get my limbs free without him noticing, but no matter how much I wiggled my arms and legs, I couldn’t seem to get out of the tree Yggdrasil’s rooty grasp. I had to keep Ned talking while I figured out a plan.

  “How often do you hear people who aren’t from the Kingdom Beyond talk about your dimension, your stories?” Ned pulled three half shells out of the hat now, sort of like giant acorns. He held one out to me before waving his hands and making it disappear into the air and then reappear. “But it won’t matter much longer. The ACC is going to take care of all that. Soon, your stories won’t exist at all.”

  That got my attention. “What did you just say?”

  “You asked me why Lalkamal was captured by a Kingdom Beyond ghost and ended up in a Norse tree.” Ned flexed his own bicep, shamelessly showing off for me even as he held me and my friends captive. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? All the stories from less important places are getting forgotten, or collapsed with more important stories. Soon, there won’t be any more stories from the Kingdom Beyond at all. Soon, there won’t even be a Kingdom Beyond to have any stories.”

  “What are you talking about?” I felt everything inside me go cold and still. All the rich culture from the Kingdom Beyond—it was disappearing? Our stories? Our history? Our people—all disappearing? How could this be happening?

  “We’re gonna kill all the chaos, Princess, and bring harmony to the singular universe.” Ned spread out his hands wide. “You of all people should be grateful you don’t have to be all mixed up anymore!” He made a mock baby voice, probably supposed to be me. “ ‘Oh, I’m so culturally confused! Am I from here? Am I from there? Who am I? What am I?’ ”

  “I don’t sound like that!” I sputtered, but he just interrupted me and went on.

  “When the ACC has its way, the multiverse will fade into myth, and difference will disappear. That’s an act of love, Princess. That’s the end of prejudice and discrimination and everything.” Ned laughed in a seriously maniacal way. “The all will be one.”

  There it was again, that terrible expression that Sesha had used when he was talking about the Ouroboros myth, the one about the snake eating its own tale. “Taking away our uniqueness and killing our stories aren’t acts of love!” I protested. “Ending difference isn’t an act of love!”

  Even as I said these words, I remembered my moon mother’s poem:

  Your enemy’s enemy

  Is your friend

  Find your prince

  Where the road bends

  A tree between worlds

  A serpent’s friend

  Hate not love

  Makes difference end

  “Killing our unique stories is an act of hate!” My mind was whirring. A tree between worlds. A serpent’s friend. Hate, not love, makes difference end.

  I looked again at the slogan on the dragon boy’s hat. Kill the Chaos. Hadn’t Shady Sadie been saying that the universe needed chaos and diversity? And “Ned” had been arguing … what? That diversity was a bad thing—that there should only be one story ruling the multiverse. He’d been all excited about some demon who could be like a god, seeing all, understanding all, uniting all the stories into one. And he kept using that dratted expression—the all is one. Oh man, I was getting a really bad feeling about all this.

  “Nidhoggr,” I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “What is this ACC you keep mentioning?

  “Hah! Do you seriously have to ask?” Ned smirked even as he reproduced that one disappeared shell, then started juggling with all three. “Well, I guess you’re not exactly besties. Not since you keep trying to kill him. ACC is short for the Interdimensional Multivillain Anti-Chaos Committee. And its chairperson is your dear old daddy, Sesha, of course.”

  My stomach gave a serious nosedive off a metaphoric cliff.

  “I knew it …” I breathed. “So he’s working with all you serpents from other stories to try and destroy diversity? He wants to make all the different stories of the multiverse the same, and become, what, some kind of all-seeing demon-god?”

  “Ding-ding-ding went the princess!” Ned gave me another of his oh-so-charming grins, this time along with a broad wink. “You got it right, beautiful snake girl.”

  Ugh. I ignored Ned calling me beautiful and thought about what I’d just learned. That’s why Neel had turned briefly into that other king, why my moon mother had transformed temporarily into that wand-waving good witch, why I’d fallen down another storybook girl’s rabbit hole. It was all the work of Sesha, Nidhoggr, Stheno, and this Anti-Chaos Committee. This was horrible. Were all the stories from the Kingdom Beyond going to be lost—smushed forever into other, more dominant tales?

  “If you hate the Greek myths,” I said, remembering the dragon boy’s words about some myths getting more play, “you don’t want your own s
tory to become smushed with my Gorgon principal’s, do you?”

  “Don’t you worry, Princess, I didn’t survive all these millennia by being stupid. I’ll figure something out.” Ned was playing with the three acorn shells now on a root so thick and flat it was like a table. He put a penny under one of the acorns, then kept moving them around in front of him like roadside hucksters do in the movies, showing me how the penny was now under one, now under another of the shells. “You, on the other hand”—he laughed in a not-so-friendly way—“are in a bit of trouble, my girl.”

  Oh man. There was no one to help me. I had to get myself out of this mess and stop Sesha and his Anti-Chaos Committee goons. I had to save the multiverse and save our stories. But first, I’d have to save Jovi, Zuzu, and Lal. And I didn’t have much time to figure out how.

  So you’re pretty smart, are you? Pretty good at games of illusion?” I asked the dragon Ned as cheekily as I could. “But how good at magic are you really?”

  The Anti-Chaos Committee wanted to smush stories together, huh? Well, two could play at that game. I had just remembered a movie Zuzu and I had watched a whole bunch of times and loved. In it, a brave hero had outwitted a villain and saved a captured princess with a game of wits.

  “Let me put it this way. Ever heard of Houdini, Copperfield, P. C. Sorcar?” asked Nidhoggr as he shuffled the acorn shells in front of himself faster and faster.

  “Sure.” In truth, I hadn’t heard of any of the names but the first. But I figured they must be other magicians.

  “They’re all kids’ birthday party magicians compared to me,” spat Ned.

  “Is that so? Well, then how about a challenge?” I said, trying to act all confident even though my hands and feet were totally trapped by Yggdrasil’s roots. “I challenge you to a battle of illusions and wits!”

  “For your friends’ lives?” the dragon snarled.

  I nodded.

  “To the death?” he added.

  I nodded again, trying to do that trick that Neel did where he raised one eyebrow. From the confused way that Nidhoggr was looking at me, I’m not sure if I was doing it right. But finally, eyebrow raise or not, he took my offer.

  “All right, darlin’, why not? I accept!” he said. “I’ve never been stumped by any game of wits!”

  “I don’t know, though,” I fudged, hoping Ned’s ego was as huge as it seemed. “I don’t know if you’re a good enough magician to get me the things I’ll need. They’re pretty random.”

  “Name them and I’ll get them!” the dragon boy said airily.

  “First I’ll need two glasses and a pitcher of Thumpuchi!” I said, naming a kind of soda from the Kingdom Beyond.

  “Done!” Nidhoggr snapped his fingers and pulled out of his hat two goblets as well as a pitcher of cola. Waving his hands, he made two little tree stumps appear on either side of the thick root he had been using as a table. He gestured like I should sit down. With my arms and legs still tied up in tree roots, it wasn’t that easy, but I perched myself on the edge of the stump.

  “Okay, now pour the soda,” I said.

  Nidhoggr grinned, obviously excited by the challenge. “I think I see where this is going!” He poured the liquid from the pitcher into the two goblets. “Now what?”

  “Now I’ll need you to get something pretty hard to get,” I said, hoping that Nidhoggr could do it. “It’s called Bhuvanprash. It’s a special … uh … poisonous paste from the Kingdom Beyond. Oh, and I’ll need a spoon too.”

  “Hard to get?” Nidhoggr waved his hands and produced a container of the paste from his hat, along with a spoon. “Maybe for other magical beings, but not for me.”

  I smiled in what I hoped was a mysterious way. The familiar gloppy black goo was of course not poison at all, but something Ma had made me take as a vitamin supplement (along with my gummy chewables) for years! My entire plan rested on the assumption that Norse dragons’ moms didn’t make them take Bhuvanprash too.

  “You’ll have to undo my hands for the next part,” I said. The dragon gave me a skeptical look and first moved my bow and arrow way out of my reach. Then, with a wave of his hands, he had the roots binding my hands wrap around my chest and shoulders instead.

  “Great, so much more comfortable,” I muttered. My arms were free, but the pressure of the root across my body was so great I couldn’t even take a deep breath. “Not.”

  “What did you say?” snapped Nidhoggr. “You know, I don’t have to play along with this. I just am because of your snaky heritage. And also, I can’t pass up the chance to show Sesha that I beat his daughter.”

  I tried to keep my face blank even though I was cheering on the inside. It was working! I had him by the vanity. Thank goodness Ned was so overproud of being smart and clever.

  I picked up the container of Bhuvanprash and opened it. Then I dipped the spoon in, making a big show of being careful, as if the substance inside was super dangerous. “When I mix the paste into the Thumpuchi, it will become odorless and undetectable!”

  “Now you’re talking my poison! I mean, poison is my poison! Get it? I mean, I really dig poison! Buah hah hah!” Nidhoggr said in what I supposed he thought was a dastardly-villain-type voice. I wondered for a second if I wasn’t the only one acting here.

  “It’s a deadly poison, I suppose?” he added as I turned around as best I could and fiddled with the Bhuvanprash and two goblets.

  “We’ll see, won’t we?” When I turned back around, I made a big show of switching the goblets in front of us a couple times. “I’ve put the poison in one of the goblets only. And now begins the test. Where is the poison?” I cleared my throat, trying to remember the line from the movie. “Our contest ends when you decide which one to drink from, and we will see who is right … and who is dead!”

  “Well, this is simple enough.” Nidhoggr gave me a skeptical look with his narrow eyes. He licked his thin lips with a pointed tongue. “All I have to do is figure out what kind of a person you are. Are you the kind of sixth grader who would put the poison in her own cup or her enemy’s?”

  I nodded, willing myself not to give anything away, willing myself not to look at one cup or the other.

  “Now, only a total ding-dong would reach for what they’re given. So I can’t drink the goblet in front of me.” Nidhoggr tapped his finger on his lips. “But you would have known I wasn’t a complete ding-dong, and so I obviously can’t choose the soda in front of you.”

  “So you know which cup you’re drinking from?” My heart was hammering in my chest. Would my plan work?

  “Not even! You know that I’m a dragon, and you probably know the stories about us being suspicious creatures, and so I obviously can’t choose the soda in front of me.”

  “Done yet?” I asked, noting the frenzied expression on Nidhoggr’s face.

  “No way, I’m just getting going! You must also know that dragon stories are really popular in England, where they drive on the left. And you brought that goblet around in your left hand, so I can obviously not choose the soda in front of you!” Nidhoggr’s eyes were getting a little glazed.

  “This is super impressive. I’m sure you get really high scores on all your standardized villain tests,” I said in as patient a voice as I could manage.

  “Aha! Your reference to standardized tests implies you’re a good student. So you know it’s wise to keep danger and death far away from you, so I obviously can’t choose the soda in front of me!” The dragon boy was panting now in agitation, shooting little flames out of his mouth and nose as he talked.

  “You must be a blast at parties,” I muttered, hoping this wouldn’t go on all afternoon. I had friends to rescue and things to do!

  Nidhoggr rambled on, “Being a good student, you must also have heard the expression ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ And a deadly poison is the worst sort of enemy, so you would have kept it close. So I obviously can’t choose the soda in front of you!”

  “You’re trying to trick me i
nto giving something away!” I smirked, remembering the cute pirate boy from the other story. “It’s not going to work!”

  “It’s already worked.” Nidhoggr’s eyes glowed yellow even as his skin was growing obviously scalier. “You’ve given everything away! I know where the poison is!”

  “So choose already!” I pointed at the two soda-filled goblets.

  “Of course! I’m ready! I choose …” Nidhoggr suddenly pointed behind me. Boy, he was a terrible actor. “Oh, look, it’s your friend Lal!” he said in a super-fake voice.

  “Where?” I turned my head, pretending to believe him, but turned back fast enough to see the dragon boy’s hands on the two goblets. He’d obviously switched them yet again, but I didn’t let on that I knew that.

  “Okay, drink up!” he said with a totally creepy smile. His sharp teeth glistened in the winter light.

  I picked up my soda and made a little “cheers” motion, and then started to drink. I noticed that he didn’t put his lips to his goblet until I did. And then he downed his Thumpuchi with one long, loud slurp.

  “Hah, you fool!” he yelled as soon as our goblets were down. “I switched the sodas when you weren’t looking! It’s such a classic mistake!”

  “Oh, really?” I wiped my sticky lips with the back of my hand.

  “Yes, the first being never get involved in a firefight with a bunch of plucky villagers who own a dragon-piercing crossbow! But only slightly well-known is this—never go in against a mythical Norse dragon masquerading as a middle schooler when death is on the line!” Nidhoggr laughed so hard, he almost choked.

  When he fell off his stump, I looked over casually. “Hey, are you all right, dude?”

  “Oh, my stomach feels terrible!” the dragon boy moaned. Then his face grew downright alarmed. “Oh no! I think I need an outhouse! And fast!”

  “I’ll tell you where the park is with the public bathrooms if you untie these roots!” I said helpfully. I could hear his stomach churning even from where I was, loud and obnoxious like a washing machine.