“The police are coming to get us, aren’t they?” asked Sheela softly.
Aiden moved in front of the twins. He turned his wrist, and Aru saw the sharp gleam of his scimitars poking out from the ends of his sleeves. “I don’t think so,” he said.
Aru, Brynne, and Mini joined him to form a protective wall. Aru snuck a glance behind her. Nikita and Sheela were huddled together, but for the first time, the thorns spiking out of Nikita’s crown looked smaller, and when she met Aru’s gaze she didn’t look haughty or furious…but shocked.
“I’ve never heard of Maruts,” whispered Mini.
Aru turned her attention back to the hallway.
“They’re minor storm deities tasked with keeping rabble rousers out of the heavens,” said Boo, from the top of her head.
Mini bit her lip. “I hear they’re super-violent and aggressive—”
The floor began to tremble. The shouts grew louder.
“Yeah, they’re the worst,” whispered Brynne. “Gunky and Funky can’t stand being around them.”
Aru winced. Gunky and Funky were Brynne’s uncles and literally the friendliest couple in the world. If they didn’t like the Maruts, then the storm deities had to be seriously awful.
Just then, a stream of hulking warriors wearing gold-plated armor and pointed helmets marched into the room, their daggers sparking with electricity. One by one, they lined up against the walls, only their grim mouths showing under their visors. On each of their golden breastplates was a number from two to forty-nine. The last Marut to enter wore number one. He strode toward the group, even as Brynne, Mini, Aiden, and Aru closed ranks in front of the twins.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Boo demanded from the top of Aru’s head. “I’ll have you know that I am a member of the Council of Guardians, and we have been summoned for an appointment!”
Number One clicked his heels together. “Due to the circumstances, the crisis manager requested that you be held here until she is ready to see you, for she has much to discuss.”
Aru’s stomach sank even lower. Behind her, she sensed that the twins were on edge. They hadn’t yet used their telepathic Pandava link with Aru, but she could feel their anxiety like a candle flame held too close to her skin.
“While we wait,” said Number One, “my men and I have a question.” His head turned as he regarded the line of them. “Which one of you is the daughter of Indra, king of the gods and Lord of the Heavens?”
Aru held her breath. Had they pegged her as the sister that would ruin everything?
“Why do you wanna know?” demanded Brynne.
“It’s a simple question,” said Number One gruffly.
Aru imagined saying ME! with the same force as Lady Éowyn in that scene from Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers when she flung back her helmet and shouted, “I AM NO MAN!”
Instead, she sounded like a hamster choking on air. “Me!”
Beside her, Brynne cringed. Even Mini, who could usually fake a smile, looked like she wanted to sink into the ground.
“We have something to ask you,” said Number One.
Aru waited.
A second later, the Marut pushed up his visor to reveal eyes sparkling with excitement. “Can I fight on your side in the war?”
“I was gonna ask that!” said one of the other Maruts.
“Too slow, bro,” said Number One.
In a rush, all the Maruts started lifting their visors and breaking ranks.
“Pandavas! Real Pandavas!” shouted Number Forty-Three. “Yo, this is so sick—”
“Dude, I’m so hyped for war,” said Number Thirty-One. “Like, so hyped. This place is way too peaceful and harmonious. Ugh.”
Someone else hollered, “Yeah! This party sucks!”
A sword was thrown to the floor, where it sparked loudly. The Maruts went silent, stared at the sword, and then started cheering.
“YAY! WAR!”
Brynne leaned over and whispered, “I think I know why Gunky and Funky said they were the worst….”
Behind Aru, the twins relaxed. Boo flew to Aru’s shoulder, clucking in disdain. “I despise young deities,” he muttered darkly. “I am going to go look for the crisis manager and try to preserve what few brain cells I have after listening to them for two seconds.”
And with that, he flew off.
“Who’s the Daughter of Death?” asked another Marut.
Mini, confused, raised her hand slowly. Instantly, a knot of fans swarmed her.
“Can I fight with you?” asked one of them. “I’m super-tough. Check out my tattoos!”
“Uh, okay?” said Mini.
One Marut approached Aiden and flexed his bicep, where the words LEDGENDS ONLY appeared wrapped in inked barbed wire.
Aiden sucked in his breath sharply.
“It has that effect on people,” said the Marut. “Wait till you see this one.” He lifted his other arm, where the words YOUR A BEAST stretched across his forearm.
Aru wasn’t quite sure how much time they wasted—sorry, spent—with the Maruts. It seemed the police didn’t have much work to do, and so their days were consumed with spontaneous push-up contests (Brynne won today’s), eating contests (Brynne also won), and secretly watching reruns of The Great British Bake Off (which Brynne insisted she could win).
While everyone else mixed with the Maruts—Mini offering medical advice, Aiden explaining how there was more to photography than selfies, Nikita fixing their outfits, and Sheela reading palms—Aru walked to the single window that looked out over Amaravati. It afforded a perfect view of the celestial city hundreds of feet below. The metropolis was divided into cloud islands connected by sky bridges. On one island, Aru saw an expanse of bright greenery that had to be Nandana, the sacred grove of the heavens. A bridge bearing the sign I-85N CONSTELLATION BLVD/LUNAR MANSIONS disappeared into a shimmering fog.
Amaravati was a place rich with splendor. But it wouldn’t be there at all if the devas hadn’t won back their immortality by churning the Ocean of Milk. They couldn’t do it alone, so they’d asked the asuras for help, promising to share eternal life. But in the end, they’d broken their promise, and people got hurt. People like Lady M, who had just wanted to be remembered for her true self. And even Takshaka, the serpent king who hated the Pandavas because in another life they’d set fire to his forest home and killed his wife.
Those two hadn’t been wrong in their anger. They just hadn’t been right in how they dealt with it.
All of it made Aru uneasy.
She was still looking out the window when Boo flew through the doorway.
“She’s coming!” he squawked.
Instantly, the Maruts scrambled. Sleeves were rolled down, conversations abandoned, helmets shoved into place. Within seconds, all forty-nine were flattened against the wall, serious and silent once more.
Aru wasn’t sure what to expect of a “crisis manager,” but it certainly wasn’t what stepped across the threshold: an apsara with slender, dark limbs, wearing a jumpsuit made out of starry fabric.
She flung up her hands, one of which held a blinged-out tablet. “Helloooo, Pandavaaaas! I’m Opal. You’re welcome in advance. Before we get started, let’s snap a quick BTS, shall we?”