Aru Shah and the Song of Death

by Roshani Chokshi

  “I’m Aru Shah?” said Aru, hating that her voice went up at the end. It wasn’t like she didn’t know who she was, but she felt cowed by the presence of the ancient gods.

  “A Pandava, to be exact,” said Varuni.

  “But why is she here?”

  Aru was getting a little tired of being referred to as if she wasn’t in the room. “Honestly, it’s a bit of a misunderstanding,” she said. “I was trying to get to the naga treasury with my friends, the other Pandavas. Well, except Aiden isn’t one—that’s another story. Anyway, I’m looking for the bow and arrow of Kamadeva and—”

  Varuni interrupted her by taking a loud slurp from a large wide-brimmed goblet that had a tiny umbrella in it.

  Varuna groaned, his chin dropping in his palm. “Must you make that sound?”

  “Yes, I must,” said his wife primly. When she looked up at Aru, her eyes were glowing. In a very different, more solemn voice she said, “I see.”

  Just then, Aru remembered that Varuni wasn’t just the goddess of wine…. She was also the goddess of transcendent wisdom.

  “What is it? What do you see?” demanded Varuna. He sat up straight, dropping everything else he was holding. “I want to know, too! Wives shouldn’t keep secrets from their husbands.”

  “Husbands shouldn’t keep conch shells on the floor where wives can trip on them.”

  “And maybe wives shouldn’t drink and walk at the same time!”

  “Ha! You try being around you for a couple millennia and see if you don’t do the same!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean—?”

  “Uh, is this a bad time?” asked Aru.

  “Time has no inclination toward evil or good,” Varuni announced.

  “Here she goes…” muttered Varuna, massaging his temples with all four hands.

  “I see what you don’t see,” said Varuni. Her speech slurred just a tad as she waved her glass and pronounced:

  “The girl with eyes like a fish and a heart snapped in two

  will be met in battle by a girl named Aru.

  But take care what you do with a heart so broken,

  for uglier truths will soon be spoken.

  You, daughter of Indra, have a tongue like a whip,

  but be wary of those to whom you serve lip,

  for there is a tale beyond that soon you shall see—”

  “But all that depends on your surviving the sea,” Varuna finished with a grin.

  Varuni blinked, and then frowned. “You rhymed sea with see?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” demanded Varuna.

  “It’s lazy,” said his wife.

  “Homonyms are not lazy. They are subtle.”

  “Subtly lazy.”

  “You—”

  “Excuse me,” said Aru, “but I have to get to the naga treasury. I need to find someone’s soul song. And, um, my dad sent me here, so I was thinking, you know, because we’re like family and all—”

  The Lord of the Waters laughed. “Do you think I care? No offense, of course. But not even the great king Rama—”

  “‘—who was Lord Vishnu himself and had been reborn in the form of a mortal man, could control me, for I am the great and tempestuous sea, and none can rein in my power,’” recited Varuni in a bored voice. “We know, dear.”

  Varuna sulked for a minute, and then shook it off. “It is curious, Pandava, that you do not even know what it is you seek. It is the soul song of the thief, yes? And then you must speak the thief’s name to discover the location of the stolen bow and arrow…. But how will you find out the name?”

  Aru’s spine tingled. She hated that the god was right. Part of her had hoped the thief’s name would be written on the back of the soul song, like a tag, but something told her that wasn’t going to be the case.

  “If you know that much,” Aru said, “then do you also know who took the bow and arrow? Could you tell me?”

  Varuni inspected the nails of three of her hands. Her drinking vessel had changed to an iced copper mug. “The sea gives—”

  “And takes,” chimed in Varuna.

  “It is generous—”

  “But not prone to charity.”

  Which was fancy godspeak for NOPE. YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN.

  “But we can grant you straight passage to the treasury,” said Varuna. “It is a secret route, and none shall discover you. All you have to do is satisfy the whims of my guard pet.”

  Aru snuck a glance at the crocodile now napping in the corner. It had flipped onto its back, its stumpy legs twitching like a dog having a dream.

  “It’s very hungry,” said Varuni. “So you only have to fill its belly.”

  Aru did not trust the gods. She lifted her chin. “You can get me to the naga treasury, or you will?”

  Varuni laughed. “I like you, daughter of Indra,” she said.

  “I will help you, child,” said the Lord of the Waters. He clapped his hands and a small blue crab scuttled into the hall. “The illustrious Pandava girl has agreed to fill the beast’s belly,” Varuna said. “Show her the way.”

  The crab bowed to the gods and waved one pincer to Aru, motioning her to follow.

  Aru waited for a moment. Varuna and Varuni hadn’t exactly been kind, and she might not like them very much…

  But that didn’t mean she didn’t respect them.

  If Boo were here, he would’ve pecked her ears for not showing respect sooner.

  At least I eventually remembered, she thought, as she walked forward.

  Aru bowed her head and performed pranama by touching the feet of the two gods. She felt Varuna’s and Varuni’s hands at her shoulders, drawing her up. Varuni’s glass had changed to a flute of sparkling champagne.

  “See well, daughter of the heavens,” said Varuni.

  For his part, Varuna said nothing, as he was once again absorbed in the cricket game.

  Heeeere, Monstrous Kitty!

  The blue crab shuffled down a hallway lit by massive anglerfish that swam alongside them. Aru tried not to stare at their gaping jaws and long rows of sharp teeth. From their scaly brown foreheads swung tiny pendulums of light. Aru realized she had zero idea about what she had just agreed to do. Was she supposed to find something for the gods’ makara to eat?

  Maybe Varuna had been talking about a different pet. Aru crossed her fingers and hoped it was a dolphin. Or maybe a non-stinging jellyfish. Or, better yet, a seahorse.

  Aru was so busy thinking about what kind of pets Varuna might keep that she nearly stepped on the blue crab.

  “HEY!” it shouted. “WATCH IT!”

  “You can talk?” she asked, startled.

  “No,” said the crab bitterly. “This is all in your head. Of course I can talk.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Still getting used to this whole talking-to-underwater-animals thing.”

  “Hmpf.”

  “So…can you sing, too?”

  The crab went utterly still. “Why. Does. Everyone. Ask. Me. That?” It turned around and snapped its pincers sharply. “Did you also expect me to be bright red and have a Jamaican accent? Because if so, I am not sorry to disappoint! Just because my brother went Hollywood doesn’t mean that I sing and dance, too!” The crab scuttled ahead, muttering something that sounded a lot like Mother wouldn’t understand.

  Talk about crabby, thought Aru. Her second thought was Ha! No pun intended. Her third thought was I am talking to myself again. I should stop.

  “You should never seek help from the Lord of the Waters,” said the crab darkly. “He is fickle and unpredictable, just like the ocean. The sea has a temper. Also, it keeps things it likes. Bright baubles that catch its eye. Pretty girls and boys who look at their reflection in the water for too long…never realizing that the water is looking back.”

  Aru shivered.

  “The sea is hungry today.” The crab’s voice sounded intentionally dramatic, and Aru imagined it holding a flashlight up to its face, like one of her classmates at a sleepover.


  Too bad the sea isn’t hungry for blue crab bisque, thought Aru.

  The crab seemed to glare at her, its two stemlike eyes narrowing, and she wondered whether it could read thoughts, too.

  “So, what exactly is this pet, and what am I supposed to feed it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Aru followed the crab down a darker, narrower passageway. There were no fish lanterns here. The only light came from naturally phosphorescent shells that had been set into the walls. They passed several wooden doors locked with menacing iron bolts until they stopped at the last one. The crab tapped it with a pincer, and it swung open. Inside, the room was massive. It was hard to see much in the dark space, but it looked like an arena of sorts. Smooth black sand covered the floor and a net stretched along the sides of the room, as if to keep back spectators. It took her a moment to realize that she was no longer walking underwater. The room was some kind of magical air pocket.

  But she didn’t see any pet. Was she supposed to call it? How did one summon a celestial pet? Heeeere, monstrous kitty! Aru stepped in, peering into the darkness…and a cold shadow fell over her thoughts. If she was supposed to be feeding this thing, then where was the food? Because there was no big bag of Otherworld pet kibble lying around here.

  What Aru did see was a cage dangling over the middle of the arena.

  And trapped inside were Mini, Brynne, and Aiden.

  Brynne was the first to see her. “Aru!”

  Aru’s heart nearly burst with relief. “You’re here! Did you come to save me?”

  “What’d you say?” shouted Aiden. “Do I like gravy?”

  “No!” said Mini. “She said, ‘Do you guys blame me?’”

  “She said ‘Did you come to save me?’” grumbled Brynne, loud enough that Aru could hear.

  “Oh! Well, we were about to,” said Mini. “But a naga guard threw us all into a pod and transported us here.”

  “In other words, we got trapped,” said Brynne, crossing her arms.

  Aru turned to the little blue crab, which had been oddly silent the whole time. A horrible feeling snuck through her.

  “Why are my friends in a trap?” she asked. “And where, exactly, is the food I’m supposed to feed the pet creature?”

  The crab didn’t smile, probably because it couldn’t. But it did do a weird happy scuttle, like it was saying Gotcha! “You already know the answer to that, Pandava girl.”

  Aru began to slowly spin around the chamber. “What about the creature?”

  A shadow grew over her then, and a louder click, click sound filled the air. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled all at once, and Aru turned to look behind her. The blue crab was beginning to grow bigger and bigger…. Now it was three times the size of Aru. It crouched and said:

  “That would be me.”

  No, I Can’t Sing. Leave Me Alone

  The crab stepped forward. “There’s no one to rescue you, little Pandava.”

  From out of the corner of her eye, Aru saw Aiden picking the lock on the cage with one of his scimitars. Mini was using Dee Dee as a flashlight to help him. The cage door swung open silently, the sound redirected with a wave of Brynne’s mace.

  As silent as shadows, Brynne, Aiden, and Mini dropped to the ground.

  Aru grinned. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

  With a great roar, Brynne rushed at the gigantic crab. The crab reared up, swinging one of its pincers, and Brynne went flying against the wall. She slid down, shook her head, and then got back to her feet. She twirled her mace, probably trying to make her trademark wind cyclone…but instead of air, a force of bubbles surged forward, popping on the crab’s shell.

  The crab tittered. “That tickles!”

  Brynne examined the end of her mace in confusion.

  Aiden tried to flash his scimitars, but his movements were strangely slowed, as if he were fighting a strong wind. The crab caught him around the leg, and he tripped backward. The crab stabbed the ground with a pincer, but at the last second Aiden rolled across the sand.

  “Bubble power it is!” hollered Brynne, pointing her mace so that a stream of bubbles momentarily blinded the crab.

  The crab stumbled, its legs nearly crushing all of them until Mini let loose a force field.

  A crackling sphere surrounded the four of them. The crab batted away the last of the bubbles and then tapped at the sphere with one claw.

  “Come now,” it coaxed. “I’ll be very quick about it. I’ll eat you in one bite if you come out now. Two bites if you make this difficult.”

  “That’s super enticing,” muttered Aru.

  Quickly, she told the others what had happened with Varuna and Varuni.

  “You promised to ‘fill its belly’ without asking what you’re supposed to fill it with?” demanded Aiden. “Nice going, Shah.”

  The crab had grown to the size of a submarine. All of them barely came up to the first joint in its spindly blue leg.

  “Can’t we just blast it with something?” whispered Brynne.

  “With what? Everything works weird in here!” Aiden said in an equally low tone. “It’s almost like we’re underwater without the water.”

  “Besides”—Mini grunted, straining to keep up the shield—“the Otherworld will not like it if you break your promise to Varuna, Aru.”

  Aru eyed the crab. “So let’s keep my promise. Let’s fill its belly. Just not for long.”

  “What, like make it eat something and then spit it out?” asked Brynne. “What would even fit inside it?”

  Aiden caught on to Aru’s idea first. Then Mini. The three of them looked at Brynne.

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  The crab loomed above them. It slammed its pincer into the shield, and a crack spiderwebbed through it. Mini winced.

  “Why do people always stare at me like that?” the crab roared.

  For their plan to work, they needed the crab’s mouth open wide. Wide enough that something could fly straight down its throat without it noticing. Which meant that they needed it to be talking…or shrieking.

  “Ask him to sing,” whispered Aru.

  “What, like the crab in Moana?” asked Aiden loudly.

  “WHO SAID MOANA?” thundered the crab.

  The shield broke. Down came the pincer. The four of them rolled in different directions. The crab rotated, trying to catch them all at the same time. Brynne conjured another bubble storm around her. Aru threw out her lightning bolt, intending it to be a distraction. After all, her lightning bolt was a weapon of the sky, so it probably wouldn’t work well in here either. But, to her surprise, a net crackling with electricity covered the crab’s eyes.

  “What the—?” breathed Aru.

  Vajra, sensing her confusion, weakened. The crab tore the net from its eyes.

  “My brother can sing,” said the crab furiously. “But me? Oh no! I HAD TO PLAY THE CLARINET!”

  It stabbed the ground angrily. As Aru dodged out of the way, she sent messages through the Pandava mind link:

  Brynne, turn into a fly! Mini, we’re going to need a distraction. Tell Aiden.

  I don’t want to go in there!

  Just do it, Brynne! Mini, you’ve heard the crab. You know what it doesn’t like. Count down….

  “Three!” shouted Aru.

  Mini popped out of her shield and screamed, “Why don’t you have a Jamaican accent?”

  The crab whirled on her, pincers raised. It roared.

  “I mean, you are under the sea, you might as well sing it!” shouted Aiden.

  “Two!” called Aru.

  The crab paused. And then it let out a long shriek. It sounded like someone had dropped a death metal band into a thunderstorm and thrown in a braying donkey just for the heck of it. “Is this what you wanted, Mother? Me to be taunted and tortured? Are you happy now? Yes, Jayesh is talented, but I bet he’s never eaten a Pandava!”

  “One!” Out of the corner of her eye, Aru saw a flash of blue light. Bryn
ne had disappeared.

  Aiden held out his scimitars and said hurriedly, “Aru, touch these with your lightning bolt—”

  “You’ll get electrocuted!” she said.

  “Trust me,” said Aiden. “Light ’em up, Shah.”

  Something in Aiden’s voice made her believe him. She tapped both of his weapons with Vajra and electricity crackled around the metal.

  “Whoa!”

  “Told ya,” said Aiden, running forward. He must have adjusted his pressure to account for the strange air resistance, because this time his scimitars connected with the crab.

  “Hot! Ow! Too hot! Stop that!” shouted the crab. Its weird stem-like eyes waved wildly. With each stab Aiden made, the crab let out a shriek, its blue jaws gaping wide. It lifted its legs, trying to get them out of the way, but Aiden was faster.

  Aru cast Vajra. Her lightning bolt soared to the right. Mini threw Dee Dee to the left. Each of the crab’s eyes went a different way, which left a blind spot in the center, where a small blue bug sailed through, right into its mouth.

  Aru heard Brynne in her head:

  I hate you guys.

  You’re a heroic parasite! sent Mini.

  Brynne went silent.

  Brynne? called Mini. Did I say something wrong?

  Now all that was left was a waiting game. The three of them dodged the crab, but within moments, the electricity had faded from Aiden’s scimitars. It was taking Mini longer and longer to bring up new shields. Aru was getting tired.

  “Enough!” shouted the crab. “Daughter of Indra, you have failed to keep your word! I—” The crab stopped and its eyes bulged out. “I—”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Mini. “Upset stomach?”

  “Do you feel a song coming on?” asked Aiden.

  The crab swayed. Aru, Mini, and Aiden braced themselves. This was supposed to be the easier part, the part when the weakened crab, with Brynne stomping around in its stomach, started to lose focus. But if anything, the opposite happened. It rushed at them with terrible force.

  “WHAT DID YOU DO, PANDAVAS?”

  Aru had always assumed that if something was beginning to feel pain, then that something would keel over and squirm on the ground. That’s what she would do, anyway. But this crab was not living up to expectations.