Aru Shah and the End of Time

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Aru Shah and the End of Time Page 9

by Roshani Chokshi


  “That was the Sleeper, right?” asked Aru.

  There was no mistaking that voice, or that laugh. Guilt needled her. She had let him out into the world.

  “He knew where we were,” said Mini, clutching her backpack. “And now he knows where the second key is!”

  Boo fluttered away from Aru. “No. He doesn’t. I changed the portal location at the last minute to hide our whereabouts.”

  They were surrounded by wilderness. Aru didn’t see a single other person. Wherever Boo had taken them was not in the same time zone as the salon, because it was still daytime. Not that there was much sunlight. Overhead, solemn oak trees drank up most of it, so that little was left to illuminate the cocoa-dark forest floor.

  “You are safe, but not for long,” said Boo. “The Sleeper will be watching for any signs of magic. We need additional protection to get you to the Night Bazaar, where the second key lies.”

  “Protection? Like travel insurance?” asked Mini.

  “What is that?” asked Boo. “You know what? Forget I asked.”

  “We could ask the gods for some help?” suggested Aru. “They weren’t just going to leave us with a ball and a mirror, right?”

  Aru felt silly for hoping their soul dads would care more, but it didn’t stop her from looking at the sky, wondering if she might see a message spelled out in lightning. Just for her.

  “I told you, they will not meddle in human affairs.”

  “What about demigod affairs?” asked Aru.

  “No meddling. It is their rule.”

  “So who is going to help us?”

  Boo seemed lost in thought for several moments. He circled the ground, then tottered over to a small anthill beside a log. He stared at it.

  “I think I might know someone who would be very interested in meeting you…” he said slowly. “Now if I could only find him. Hmm. Ah, wait! There! See that?”

  He was pointing at the dirt. Aru and Mini exchanged nervous looks. Mini made a little swirling sign of He’s lost it next to her head.

  Boo glared at them. “No. Look.”

  Aru moved closer and saw a slender line of ants leading away from the log and over a pile of leaves.

  “We must follow the ants,” said Boo.

  “Yup,” said Aru to Mini. “He’s lost it.”

  “We follow the ants, because all ants go back to Valmiki.”

  “Valmiki? He’s alive?” asked Mini, shocked. “But he was alive thousands of years ago!”

  “So were you,” said Boo curtly.

  “Who’s Valmiki?” asked Aru. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  “The sage of learning,” said Mini. “He’s the one who wrote the Ramayana!”

  Aside from the Mahabharata, the Ramayana was the other ancient epic poem that lots of Indians knew. It told the story of Rama, one of the reincarnations of the god Vishnu, who fought a ten-headed demon to rescue his wife. Aru’s mother had collected some art depicting Rama’s adventures, and now Aru recalled an image of a sage sitting on an anthill. She also recalled something else about him:

  “Wasn’t Valmiki a murderer?”

  “Well, he started out as one,” said Mini.

  “Even if you murder only once, you’re still a murderer….”

  “He changed,” said Boo. “For many years, Valmiki sat and chanted the word mara, which means kill. But his chant changed over time and became Rama, another name of the god—”

  “And then a bunch of ants swarmed around him, and that’s how he got his name!” chimed in Mini. “In Sanskrit, it means born of an anthill.”

  Aru wasn’t sure that people could really change. On many occasions her mother had promised that things would be different. Sometimes she kept her word for as long as six days. For those days Aru would be walked to school, fed a non-bland dinner, and even spoken to about something other than her mother’s newest museum acquisition.

  But things always went back to normal in the end.

  Still, having that mom was better than having a frozen mom. Aru swallowed her urge to cry. What were they doing here? They needed to get those celestial weapons, and soon!

  “People can change,” added Boo. His eyes looked very knowing in that moment, as if he’d read her mind. It didn’t escape Aru that Boo sounded a little defensive.

  “Okay, if you say so. But why do we have to meet this guy?” asked Aru.

  “Valmiki’s very wise,” said Boo. “He’s gathered all kinds of mantras, sacred words that will help you. But, be warned, he’s still awful….”

  “Why?” asked Aru, shocked. “Because he was a murderer?”

  “Worse,” said Boo. “He’s a…” His voice dropped. “A writer.” He shook his head in disgust.

  Boo and Mini started marching forward (well, Mini marched while Boo rode on her shoulder), following the trail of ants. The ground was dark, and finding the insects was like trying to pick pepper off a black cloth.

  “I can’t see the ants anymore,” Mini said.

  “Use your phone light,” said Aru.

  “Can’t,” said Mini. “It died before you guys even came to get me. Don’t you have one?”

  Aru grumbled. “No. Mom won’t let me have one until next year.”

  “I can see perfectly well,” said Boo, picking his way carefully through the grass. This was probably the one time a pigeon sidekick was useful.

  Ahead were several skinny trees. Between them stood a tannish boulder that Aru was quite certain hadn’t been there when they were farther away. Boo walked up to the thing and pecked it twice.

  “Valmiki! We are in need of your assistance!”

  Was it Aru’s imagination, or did the boulder shift a bit?

  “Oh, come out of there….”

  Aru looked a little closer. What had seemed like a boulder was actually a giant anthill. She shook each of her feet, shivering a little. What if the ants were crawling on her right now?

  The insects on the hill began to move quickly back and forth, forming lines that eventually spelled out words:

  UNLESS YOUR LIFE YOU WANT TO CURSE

  THE TIME IS NIGH TO SPEAK IN VERSE

  The Hipster in the Anthill

  “Oh no,” said Boo.

  “What is it?” asked Aru.

  “I hate poems that rhyme.”

  The ants rearranged themselves into a new message from Valmiki:

  IF THAT IS TRUE

  THEN I HATE YOU

  “Poets are so dramatic,” said Boo.

  “O lord of learning,” said Mini timidly, “we are yearning for your protection, so to speak. If you talk to us, we will be very…meek. We have a magic key, you see, and even if you hate Boo, I hope you don’t hate…me. We really don’t want to die. This is not a lie. Help us, please. So that we can get the other keys.”

  Aru’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. She would never have been able to come up with a rhyme. It would have taken too much time.

  The anthill paused, pondering.

  YOUR RHYMES LEAVE MUCH TO BE DESIRED,

  BUT PERHAPS I KNOW WHAT IS REQUIRED

  Cracks started showing in the anthill.

  Gradually, it fractured like thin ice on a pond, and a head emerged. One bright brown eye peered at them. Another blinked open. Then the anthill split in half to reveal an elderly gentleman sitting cross-legged on the ground. His gray-streaked black hair was in a topknot, and he wore a pair of tinted glasses and sported a trim beard. His shirt said: I’M NOT A HIPSTER. He reached for a mason jar that appeared out of thin air. The orangish drink caught the light.

  “I would offer you some turmeric tea, but you disturbed me at my apogee. I am trying to write a book, you know. Something about fifty pages or so. But I can’t think of how to start the tale….Perhaps with people on a forest trail?”

  “Or you could be super annoying and have it start with them waking up,” suggested Aru.

  Mini frowned at her.

  “We need some protection,” Aru went on
. “It’s urgent, and—”

  “You must convey it in rhyme, or I won’t give you my time,” said Valmiki mildly.

  Out of nowhere, a typewriter materialized. He began to type furiously. Aru thought it best not to point out that there was no paper in it. Was it just for show? It seemed strange to announce Look at me, I’m writing! but then again, writers were quite strange.

  “Be more like your sister!” scolded Boo.

  Aru had a feeling this would not be the last time she heard that phrase. She pinched Boo’s beak shut, much to his annoyance.

  To be honest, she was more impressed than envious when it came to Mini’s knack for rhyming. The only way she could’ve helped was if Valmiki liked beatnik poetry. They’d just studied that unit in English class, so Aru could snap her fingers in rhythm and start shouting about neon fruit supermarkets, but she didn’t think that would be helpful here.

  “We got the sprig of youth from a demon,” said Mini. “But now we need armor from the—” Mini paused to look at Boo.

  “Seasons,” he mouthed.

  “Seasons?”

  Valmiki raised an eyebrow, as if to say You’re stretching the definition of rhyme, but then, you are on an urgent deadline….

  Mini hurried on. “Boo said you could protect us from evil; we hope he wasn’t being…deceitful?”

  Valmiki leaned back against the anthill and stroked his beard slowly. There are two ways to stroke one’s beard. There is the villanous I-am-devastating-but-also-fond-of-my-beard-texture caress, and then there is the pondering does-this-beard-make-me-look-devastating rub. Valmiki’s was the latter.

  “To learn the right thing to say, there is a price you must pay.”

  Mini opened up her backpack and held it out. “I have no cash, as you can see,” said Mini. “Perhaps Aru could pay the fee?”

  Aru patted her pockets. “I’ve got nothing,” she said, before remembering it was supposed to be a rhyme and adding, “too. How ’bout taking Boo?”

  “I’m not for sale!”

  Aru sighed. “Another fail…”

  Hey, that rhymed!

  “I don’t want anything you have to sell; I want the stories you could help me tell.” Valmiki leaned over his typewriter and tented his fingers. “This is a new age of epics, you see,” said the sage-poet. “And I have two Pandavas before me! We have all the legends and poems of yore, but it’s time we offered readers some more. Promise to give me one day of your life, and I will grant you the gift of less strife.”

  So Valmiki wanted to write their biographies? Yes, please! That sounded…amazing. Aru was already brainstorming titles for hers:

  The Legend of Aru

  The Chronicles of Aru

  The—

  “Aru?” asked Mini. “On this man’s terms can you agree? There is little downside that I can see.”

  Oh, right. The Chronicles of Aru and Mini.

  “Wait!” said Boo. “Don’t give your life rights away for free! The day has to be mundane, Valmiki. And day is a mortal’s twenty-four hours. Comply, or else you’ll face the gods’ powers.”

  Aru hadn’t even thought of that. This was officially the second time she was happy to have a pigeon guardian.

  Valmiki shrugged, but he looked a little disgruntled. “You cannot rush a writer’s art!”

  “And here you thought you were so smart,” said Boo smugly.

  Good thing Boo answered, because the only thing Aru could think of that rhymed with art was fart, and that’s not a word you want to throw around when you’re talking to a legendary sage-poet.

  “So, my friends, tell me: Do we have a deal?” asked Valmiki. “A nod is a sufficient way to seal. I will come and claim my payment one day. Until then, Pandavas, go forth and slay.”

  Aru grinned, nodding so fast she thought her head might fall off. Mini, as usual, was more thoughtful. She watched Valmiki for a long while before finally nodding.

  Valmiki smiled. “This rhyme won’t save your life, which is a light, but it will surely hide you both from sight. Say it once; be sure not to miss a beat, or you will risk becoming monster meat. Now repeat after me, little heroes, for I’d rather you not become zeroes….”

  Mini and Aru leaned closer.

  “Don’t look, don’t see, there’s no such thing as me,” said Valmiki.

  The words wound through Aru, powerful enough that she imagined she could see them floating around her.

  Before they could thank Valmiki, he sank back into the anthill and it closed up around him.

  “Now that you have the mantra,” said Boo, “let’s try again to reach the second key’s location. The Sleeper shouldn’t be able to find you this time.”

  Shouldn’t, but not won’t.

  Aru steeled herself, and she and Mini spoke the words aloud. “Don’t look, don’t see, there’s no such thing as me.”

  Up to now, Aru had never given much thought to how a word or sentence might taste. Sometimes when she said something mean, there was a bitter aftertaste. But when she spoke Valmiki’s mantra, she felt magic on her tongue, like fizzing Pop Rocks candy.

  The last thing Aru saw before she touched the second key symbol on her mehndi map were some new words on the boulder. The poetry ants had spelled out what looked to be the very bad first draft of an epic poem (then again, all first drafts are miserable):

  IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT

  WHEN GIRLS WITH PIGEON DID TAKE FLIGHT

  TO STOP THE SLEEPER IN HIS QUEST

  TO WAKE LORD SHIVA FROM HIS REST

  A Trip to the Grocery Store

  Something touched Aru as she was flung through the Otherworld. Claws scraping lightly against her. Aru didn’t feel safe. She had the prickly-neck sensation that someone was watching her. She looked down and saw something that nearly froze her blood:

  The end coil of a thick black tail that was studded with stars.

  It slithered over her feet. All the while she murmured, “Don’t look, don’t see, there’s no such thing as me.”

  The whole thing lasted maybe a minute. All the while, Aru heard the Sleeper’s voice in her head. Just like your mother. Slippery and deceitful.

  How could the Sleeper possibly have known her mom? Did that mean Mini’s mom was a hero, too? Not for the first (or last) time, Aru wondered why all this had been kept from her. How come Mini got to know and she didn’t?

  Light broke over her. Aru looked around to see that she was standing in another parking lot. Mini and Boo were there, too. She couldn’t tell what city they were in, but it was a little warmer than the last place. Here, autumn gilded the world. The sky was bright, and the clouds seemed closer, as if they were weighed down by unspent rain.

  “Why do we always end up in parking lots?” asked Mini.

  “Better than in the middle of a road,” said Boo.

  They were standing in front of a Costco. Bright red grocery carts were lined up next to bales of hay. The trees burned scarlet and saffron, so vivid they looked as if someone had covered each leaf with gold foil.

  Aru’s palm itched. She glanced at her hand. The number eight had disappeared, replaced by a new, shining mark:

  “What the heck does that mean?” asked Aru. “Please tell me the universe feels bad for us, and it’s Sanskrit for Treat yourself to a demonless day and not the number three, which it kinda looks like.”

  Mini examined Aru’s hand. “It’s not the number three.”

  “Yay!”

  “It’s the number six.”

  “WHAT?”

  “Saat. Six,” read Mini. She frowned and turned to Boo. “But yesterday, our maps said we had eight days left! What happened?”

  Boo shook out his wings. “Traveling through the Otherworld requires a cost. Time does not always adhere to mortal standards.”

  “But that means…that means I’ve been awake for seventy-two hours,” squeaked Mini. “I should be dead! Am I dead?”

  Aru pinched her.

  “Ow!”

  “Nope. Al
ive and kickin’.”

  Mini rubbed her arm and glared.

  “You’re Pandavas,” said Boo. “You need less sleep and food than mortals. But occasionally you do need something to keep your strength up. We’ll get some snacks inside.”

  “Inside the Costco?” asked Aru.

  Not that she had a problem with this. On the contrary, an industrial-size box of Oreos was just what she needed.

  “That’s not an ordinary Costco,” said Boo proudly. “For Otherworld folks, it becomes a different store depending on who you are and what you need. For us, it will be the Night Bazaar. Inside, we’ll find the Seasons and ask them to design you some weaponry. After that, we’ll look for the second key.”

  Aru dearly hoped the second key would be located next to an industrial-size box of Oreos. But all thoughts of Oreos quickly vanished with Mini’s next words.

  “I’ll go anywhere as long as we don’t run into the Sleeper again. Did you see him when we left Valmiki?” she asked. “He was right next to me! I could’ve sworn he wanted something. He even touched me!” She shuddered. “At least I think it was him? It was just a giant snake tail. But it felt like him?”

  “Did the Sleeper say anything to you?” asked Aru.

  Mini frowned. “No. How ’bout to you?”

  Aru stilled. “Earlier. The last time we tried to get to…wherever this is. He spoke in my mind and compared me to my mom. Called me deceitful like her. It was so weird.”

  Boo looked as if he was trying to make himself smaller on top of Mini’s head.

  “Do you know anything about this, Boo?” asked Aru.

  “Me? No. Not a thing!” he squawked. “Come along!”

  “If he figured out where we were last time, and he can find us when we’re traveling between places, he can probably do it again, even if we have the mantra to cover our tracks,” said Mini. “What do we do if the Sleeper catches up to us?”

  “Run faster than the other person,” said Boo. And with that, he flew off toward the entrance to Costco.

  Aru was about to make a joke to Mini, but she had turned on her heel and was jogging into the jungle of parked cars and abandoned shopping carts.

 

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