Aru Shah and the End of Time

by Roshani Chokshi

  “The Ashvins, Nasatya and Dasra.”

  Two statues with the heads of horses glowed. They were the gods of sunrise and sunset, and medicine. Their Pandava sons were also twins. Nakula the Beautiful and Sahadeva the Wise.

  Definitely would not mind being known for beauty, thought Aru. She still had some misgivings about the whole wisdom thing.

  Mini and Aru paid their respects to each. When the final pranama was done, the two of them stood back-to-back within the circle of gods. Above her, Aru heard the impatient hissing of the arrows. They were trembling, not like a leaf that’s about to fall from a branch, but like some sort of rabid beast that’s legitimately trembling with excitement over tearing you apart. Too late, Aru remembered Boo’s “reassurance” that the arrows wouldn’t actually hit them until they had finished their pranama.

  They’d definitely finished.

  A sharp sound cut the air, as if someone had dropped a handful of sewing needles. An arrow landed near Aru’s foot. Mini screamed.

  A few more arrows pelted the ground. Not all at once. No, that would be too easy.

  It was as if someone was tempting the gods: Either of these kids striking your fancy? Wanna save one? Here, I’ll give you a second to think.

  Aru threw up her hands, trying to see through the lace of her fingers.

  “Move!” screamed Mini, attempting to shove Aru out of the circle of statues.

  Aru teetered backward. When she looked at where she’d been standing, she saw a handful of arrows stuck in the air.

  “Stay calm!” shouted Boo.

  “Who can stay calm when arrows are being shot at them?!” she screamed.

  “A god!” said Boo.

  “But we’re not gods!” said Mini.

  “Ah. Good point!”

  Mini hefted her backpack and scuttled closer to Aru. “We have to hide,” she hissed.

  But what was the point of that? The arrows would find them regardless. Aru peered up at the statues and their cold, impassive faces. Don’t they care? Aru tried to pry off one of the statue’s toes to hurl it back at the arrows. Not that that would do anything, but at least it would feel useful. But the stone didn’t yield.

  More arrows landed in front of her. One was an inch from her pinkie. Another whispered past her ear. Now the arrows looked like a colony of bats.

  “This is it,” moaned Mini, holding up her backpack. She pressed herself tightly against Vayu’s stone legs.

  Aru braced herself.

  The arrow points were spinning toward her, blowing wind against her face.

  Aru flung out her hand, eyes pinched closed. “STOP!”

  The whistling wind went silent. Aru blinked open. Her hand was still extended. For a moment she wondered whether she had stopped the arrows herself. But then she saw what was protecting her: a net. It crackled and shimmered as if its mesh were made out of…out of bolts of lightning.

  Her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. She was floating, haloed by light. At that moment she had the most absurd desire to do two things:

  Sing the “Circle of Life” song from The Lion King.

  Throw up.

  Being dangled by an unseen force? Yep, no thanks. But then she looked around and realized the arrows had vanished. Also, the statues had changed positions. Before, she had been leaning against the god of the winds. But now it was Indra, the god of thunder, who looked down at her. His face was still made of stone. But his expression had changed from indifferent to…amused. As if he had just realized who Aru was.

  His daughter.

  She, Aru Shah, was the daughter of Indra, king of the heavens.

  The Three Keys

  Many Hindus don’t eat beef. Just like how some of Aru’s Jewish and Muslim classmates didn’t eat pork. Every time it was hamburger day at school, she would have to get the overly chewy portobello mushroom thing that looked (and probably tasted) like dinosaur hide. Her classmates would look at her pityingly.

  “That sucks. Hamburgers are the best,” someone would say. “You’re missing out.”

  Aru disagreed. Pizza was the best. Besides, how could she be missing out on something she’d never had?

  Maybe it was like that with fathers. She and her mom were just fine by themselves, thanks for asking.

  Then again, a father is not a hamburger. A hamburger was something you could choose not to have….

  Aru had never had a choice when it came to not having a dad.

  When she thought about it for too long, she got furious. How could her dad have left them? Aru considered herself fairly awesome. (Granted, she was a little biased.) And her mom…her mom was beautiful and brilliant and elegant. But she was also sad. Maybe if her dad was around, her mom would be happier. The fact that someone had dared to make her mom miserable only made Aru angrier.

  But now that she was staring at the truth, she felt, well, struck by lightning. Which just seemed ironic now. She’d never had a hint that Indra could be her dad…or had she?

  Aru had always loved thunderstorms. Sometimes when she had nightmares, a thunder and lightning storm would rise up out of nowhere, illuminating the sky like a lullaby created just for her.

  Was that because of Indra?

  But if Indra was her dad, that made Aru a reincarnation of Arjuna. The greatest warrior. She wasn’t anything like him.

  Arjuna was good and honorable and perfect. Almost, Aru thought, to the point of excess. Her mother had once told her a story about how Arjuna was so honorable that he agreed to a twelve-year exile in the forest just to keep his word.

  Like lots of ancient rulers, the kings of India had more than one wife. But it was a lot more unusual for a wife to have more than one husband. And yet that was the case in the tale of Draupadi, the virtuous and beautiful princess who married all five Pandava brothers. She spent a year as the wife of each. That made more sense to Aru than the alternative.

  Imagine walking in your front door, calling out, Honey, are you home? and hearing:

  Yes, dear!

  Yes, dear!

  Yes, dear!

  Yes, dear!

  Yes, dear!

  But it was a rule among the five brothers that you couldn’t barge in on Draupadi’s privacy when she was with her husband-of-the-year. One day, Arjuna was called to fight off a bunch of demons. He had to answer the call, because that’s what heroes do. The only problem was, he’d left his special bow and arrow in the dining room where Princess Draupadi was eating with one of his brothers. The penalty for barging in on their privacy was exile. Rather than let innocent people get hurt by demons, Arjuna chose to break the rule.

  And that’s why he had to go into the forest for twelve years.

  Aru hated that story. The exile was completely unnecessary. His brother and Draupadi even forgave Arjuna when he explained that he just had to get his bow and arrow. And why did he even go into the dining room? He could’ve just knocked on the door and shouted, Bro, I left my bow and arrow. Could you hand ’em to me? It’d be like asking a friend to pass you some toilet paper under the stall if you’re in a pinch.

  But Arjuna didn’t do that. Supposedly, this was a good thing. To Aru, it was just a bad use of time.

  Aru stared up at the statue. She might not be anything like Arjuna, but maybe having the king of the heavens as your dad wasn’t a bad thing when you’ve accidentally triggered the end of the world….

  Around her, the net of lightning vanished. In its place floated a golden orb no bigger than a Ping-Pong ball. Curious, she plucked it out of the air and turned it over in her hands. The heck is this? But it was right about then she heard Mini let out a sob.

  Aru turned to see Mini sitting on a cloud, clutching her backpack to her chest. The statue of the Dharma Raja had moved and now loomed above her. The danda stick had been thrown from his hand, shattering the arrows headed toward Mini.

  “Death?” she whispered. “I’m the Daughter of Death?”

  In all honesty, Aru thought that sounded pretty cool. Imagin
e walking into a party and announcing, I AM THE DAUGHTER OF DEATH. You would almost certainly be guaranteed the first slice of cake. Plus, that would be the only appropriate time to use the brattiest phrase ever: Wait till my father hears about this.

  But Mini’s eyes welled with tears. “This ruins everything! I thought I’d be the daughter of one of the Ashvin twins! The daughter of the god of medicine! What medical school is going to accept me if I’m the Daughter of Death?” She rocked back and forth, crying.

  A shadow cut across Aru. She looked up to see Boo circling them. There was something strange about his shadow, though…It didn’t look like the kind of shadow cast by a pigeon. It was…massive.

  Boo flew to Aru’s shoulder. He glanced at her, then at Mini. Then he did it again.

  Boo was not subtle about his hint: Go forth and comfort!

  Sighing, Aru walked over slowly. She crouched at Mini’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “What?” Mini sniffled.

  Aru thought about what she normally did to cheer herself up. She’d try to change the situation in her head. Look at it differently.

  “It’s not so bad,” said Aru. “In the stories, Yudhistira was the son of the Dharma Raja and no one ran away from him. Everyone went to him for advice because he was really wise and just and all that. He was a really good king, too….And maybe, as a doctor, you’ll be even better because you’re the Daughter of Death. Maybe you’ll be able to tell faster when things are going wrong? Because you’ll be able to sense death! Like a dog!”

  Mini’s head lifted.

  Aru went on. “Think about it: you’ll be able to save so many more people. You’ll be the best doctor.”

  Mini sniffed again. “You think so?”

  Maybe?

  “Definitely,” said Aru. “It’s all about what you do with what you have. Right, Boo?”

  Boo huffed.

  “See? Boo thinks so, too. And he’d never lie! He’s, like, our sworn guardian and all that. He wouldn’t try to steer you wrong.”

  At this, something in Boo’s expression retreated. He hung his head a little. “True,” he said softly.

  Mini stood up. She flashed a little smile. Without warning, she flung her arms around Aru and squeezed her tight, managing to catch a little of Boo’s wing. He squawked. She squeezed tighter. “Thank you,” she said.

  Aru stood extremely still. She’d never been thanked, let along hugged, after telling a lie. But maybe she hadn’t lied at all. Maybe it wasn’t lying as much as it was applying some imagination. Looking at something from a different angle. That wasn’t such a bad thing. And maybe this kind of thinking could actually help her make friends, instead of lose them?

  Aru hugged her back.

  Thunder boomed in the sky. Aru and Mini jumped apart. The statues of the Pandavas’ soul fathers disappeared and the Court of the Sky rematerialized. Urvashi and Hanuman were perched at the edge of their thrones, their eyes wide.

  “So it is true, then,” said Urvashi, her voice soft with awe. “They’re really…I mean…it is truly them.”

  “The Pandavas have been awakened to do battle once more,” said Hanuman, rubbing his chin.

  “Not all of them,” said Urvashi, staring at Aru and Mini. “Only the reincarnated souls of Arjuna and Yudhistira.”

  “For now,” said Hanuman darkly. “If the Sleeper isn’t stopped, the rest will wake up, too.”

  Aru glanced beneath her feet, where the world was nothing more than a blur of trees and rivers. Somewhere out there were other people with Pandava souls. What were they doing? Were they frozen? Did they have some idea of who they really were, like Mini? Or were they like her…completely clueless?

  “The others will only awaken as needed. With increasing darkness comes answering light,” said Boo. “Even in chaos, the world will seek balance.”

  “Is this the part where you say Do or do not, there is no try?” asked Aru.

  Boo scowled.

  “If the Sleeper is going to try and wake up the Lord of Destruction, he’ll need the celestial weapons,” said Hanuman. “Do you know what that means, Pandavas?”

  “We should break all the weapons so the Sleeper can’t use them?” Aru responded at the same time that Mini said, “We have to get them before he does?”

  “Or that,” said Aru.

  Hanuman regarded them somberly. “The Daughter of Death speaks true.”

  It took a moment for Aru to remember that Daughter of Death meant Mini. So what would that make her? Daughter of Thunder, Aru noted grumpily, sounded like a fancy name for a horse.

  “Before I tell you of your quest, show me what gifts the gods have given you,” said Urvashi. “Gods willing, they will ease the pain of your journey.”

  Gifts? Then Aru remembered the golden ball that had appeared when Indra’s lightning net vanished. She drew it out of her pajama pocket. “You mean this?”

  Urvashi’s lip curled in distaste.

  Mini rummaged in her backpack and pulled out a small purple compact. “This showed up when”—she choked on the words Dharma Raja—“claimed me.”

  “A plaything…and a mirror…” observed Urvashi. She turned to Hanuman. “Didn’t heroes use to get fine steeds? Or battle armor? Swords, even?”

  Was Aru overreacting, or was that a definite look of concern on Hanuman’s face?

  “Lord Indra and the Dharma Raja are…enigmatic,” he said.

  Mini frowned. “What’s that mean?”

  “I think it means they’ve got flaky skin,” said Aru.

  “You’re thinking of eczema.”

  “It means,” said Hanuman loudly, “that your fathers are mysterious, but always for a reason. These gifts from them are intended to help you in your quest.”

  Aru felt ridiculous. What good was a ball against a demon? That was like trying to stop an avalanche with a spoon.

  “There’s your proof,” said Urvashi. “Perhaps it means the gods do not wish the world to be saved.”

  “Or,” squawked Boo, “it could mean that this time we need a different kind of hero.”

  “Heroine,” corrected Mini under her breath.

  Heroes. Heroines. Was that really what Aru was? Or was she just someone who made an epic mistake and had to do something epic to fix it?

  Urvashi had a faraway look in her eye. Her mouth was pressed into a tight line. But a moment later, her shoulders dropped and she lifted her chin. “Very well. Come closer, children, to hear your quest.”

  Aru and Mini shuffled forward. The air kept them aloft. Wind rushed up and wrapped around them, and Aru shivered.

  This no longer felt like a fun roller coaster. The moment she’d seen that sparkling net cast by the god Indra, her heart had turned heavy. In theory, a quest sounded awesome. But in reality, a whole lot of lives hung in the balance.

  Maybe that’s why superheroes wore capes. Maybe they weren’t actually capes at all, but safety blankets, like the one Aru kept at the bottom of her bed and pulled up under her chin before she went to sleep. Maybe superheroes just tied their blankies around their necks so they’d have a little bit of comfort wherever they went. Because honestly? Saving the world was scary. No harm admitting that. (And she could have done with her blankie right about then.)

  Urvashi leaned out of her throne. “The Sleeper needs the celestial weapons to free the Lord of Destruction. You must awaken the weapons before he does. To do so, you must go to the Kingdom of Death. Within the Kingdom of Death lies the Pool of the Past. Look inside the pool, and you will discover how the Sleeper can be vanquished once and for all.”

  “Scary kingdom, sleepy weapons, weird pool, got it. Okay, let’s get this over with,” said Aru. “So where’s the door to the kingdom? Is there an entrance here? Or maybe—”

  “Normally, you get to the Kingdom of Death by dying,” said Urvashi.

  Aru and Mini exchanged nervous glances.

  “Eeny, meeny—” started Mini.

  At the same moment, Aru shouted, �
�Nose goes!” She smacked her nose.

  Mini turned pale. “Oh no…”

  “Children,” said Urvashi, holding up her palm. “There is a way to open up the Door of Death without dying. You’ll need three keys. But they are hidden, and need to be found. The first key is a sprig of youth. The second key is a bite of adulthood. And the third key is a sip of old age.”

  Aru stared at Urvashi. “Okay, so, which aisle of Home Depot do we go to?”

  Mini laughed, but it was a panicked I-am-definitely-gonna-die kind of laugh.

  “This map will help you,” said Urvashi. “Merely touch the symbol of the key, and you will be transported somewhere close to it. But from there, it is up to you to find and claim the real key.”

  Urvashi opened her hands. Aru hadn’t noticed until now that images covered Urvashi’s skin from the tips of her fingers all the way up to her elbows. It was mehndi, a design made from the powdered leaves of the henna plant. They were temporary tattoos that women wore during celebrations like weddings and festivals. But this design was unlike anything Aru had ever seen.

  For one thing, it was moving.

  On Urvashi’s wrist, a branch sprouted blossoms. “The sprig of youth.”

  A book opened and closed on the side of her hand. “The bite of adulthood.”

  A wave of water washed across her fingers. “The sip of old age.”

  But the very center of her palm was blank.

  “You have nine days until the new moon, Pandavas. Less than that, perhaps, for time runs differently here than in the mortal realms,” said Urvashi. “Stop the Sleeper from stealing the celestial weapons, find out how he may be defeated from the Pool of the Past, and then you will receive Pandava training from the entire Council.” She paused to toss her hair over her shoulder. “Myself included. People would kill for the chance to be in my presence. In fact, they have.” She smiled. “Succeed, and your disgraced guardian can even rejoin the Council.”

  Boo shuffled from foot to foot on Aru’s shoulder. “They’ll succeed, I know it,” he said. “They have me to guide them, after all, and I was illustrious.”

  “Was,” said Urvashi. Ignoring Boo, she grabbed Aru’s hands. Then Mini’s. When Aru looked down, the same mehndi map was covering her own skin. “There,” she said. “Your map. Fight well.”