“What’s that? A disease?” asked Mini.
“It means behind the scenes,” said the apsara, swiveling around to take a selfie with the Pandavas.
She caught Aru in the middle of saying, “HUH?” which probably made for an awful picture.
Opal quickly edited the photo. “Adorbs. We can use that for a little day in the life promo. Just think of what we’re doing as curating reality.”
“Then it’s not reality,” said Aiden flatly.
Opal looked up, catching sight of the camera on his hip, and smiled. It was a beautiful but weirdly hollow expression.
“Well, if you’d prefer reality, how’s this? You’ve landed the heavens in a serious crisis, and you do not want to face the wrath of angry gods, trust me. Right now, half the Council of Guardians is on an off-the-grid mission to Lanka, where they’re trying to decipher the prophecy before the five days are up. The other half is here, trying to keep everything from becoming a marketing nightmare. A lot of people heard about the commotion in the magical dead zone, and now they want to know what this prophecy is about, so we’re spreading word that it was nothing more than a false alarm.”
“We can help!” cut in Brynne. “Just tell us how to fix it—”
“Oh no, no, no,” said Opal with a laugh. “Sweet, but no. As if anyone would trust you with a mission after that last botched plan. You have to keep training and stay out of sight. So leave it to me to salvage the only thing you’ve got left.”
Opal’s teeth were so bright, Aru caught a rainbow sheen at the edge of her wide smile when she said, “Your image.”
That’s So On-Brand
Before anyone could ask Opal a question or even say a quick good-bye to the Maruts, the crisis manager whispered something into the air and the Pandava crew was whisked into a cloud conference room. It was bright and airy, but completely without windows. A wide white oval table appeared in the middle of the space, encircled by seven cloud armchairs and a cushioned perch for Boo.
He fluttered over to it and, once settled there, grumbled, “I can’t believe Hanuman and Urvashi left without me.”
Opal didn’t bother to look at him as she took a seat and motioned for the others to follow suit. “What would they need you for?” she asked dismissively.
Aru almost stood up in anger, but Brynne and Mini caught her eye.
We can’t risk it, Mini said telepathically.
Aru hated that her sisters were right. They had messed up, and they had no choice but to wait and hear what Opal would say.
The crisis manager scanned their faces for the first time and stopped on the twins. “I’m not sure this conversation will be appropriate for infants to hear—”
“We’re ten,” protested Nikita, narrowing her eyes. “And we can help.”
Opal didn’t look convinced. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Bright calligraphy stretched across the air, spelling out the phrases Sheela had uttered less than an hour ago:
The scorned powers are on the rise,
To claim their stolen immortal prize.
One sister shall turn out not to be true.
With a single choice, the world shall receive its due.
One treasure is false, and one treasure is lost,
But the tree at the heart is the only true cost.
No war can be won without finding that root;
No victory had without the yield of its fruit.
In five days, the treasure will bloom and fade,
And all that was won could soon be unmade.
“We know the first two lines refer to the Sleeper and his army,” said Opal. “The third is a little alarming…. An untrue sister?” She whistled. “Not the best image.”
Aru’s stomach twisted. The words felt like a taunt, and for a moment, all she saw was the Sleeper’s vision in which she turned her back on her family. She pushed the memory aside.
“As for the treasure part, Hanuman and Urvashi are investigating that with Kubera, the Lord of Wealth,” said Opal. “We think it’s a hint that something among his collection is false or missing. A powerful weapon, probably, that could alter the course of the war.” Opal leaned forward. “But do you know anything about this ‘tree at the heart’?”
All eyes went to Sheela, who blinked and shrugged.
“Maybe it’s a friendly tree?” she said, smiling. “That would be nice.”
No one else made a peep.
“Aaand that settles it,” Opal said to Sheela. “Thanks for your contribution, but I can’t imagine what more you have to offer. Time to go.”
Opal snapped her fingers, and the twins’ cloud chairs peeled of the ground and floated in the air.
“Ooh!” said Sheela. “Flying!”
“You can’t get rid of us!” said Nikita. “I’m not taking orders from someone in a glittering jumpsuit! It’s the most atrocious mix of sartorial nineties and an overpriced bath bomb.”
“Surely that’s too hasty, Opal!” wheedled Boo. “They’ve only just arrived! And they’re my charges—”
Brynne, Aru, Mini, and Aiden jumped to their feet, ready to grab the twins, but Opal’s magic was too quick. Two little seat belts unfolded from the sides of the twins’ cloud armchairs and buckled across their laps. Then a hole opened in the ground underneath them and their seats plummeted through.
“Don’t worry—you’ll be in good hands!” said Opal. Her gaze drifted to Aiden. “In fact…why don’t I send a babysitter, too? You can tell your mother all the things you saw, Aiden. It’s not like she can see it for herself.”
Aiden’s eyes widened. “Whoa, wait a second—”
Brynne snapped up her wind mace as Aiden’s chair rose. She whipped up a cyclone, blocking the chair from dropping through the hole. For a moment, Opal’s magic struggled against Brynne’s. But then Opal unzipped a portal in the wall, sucking in Aiden’s chair like a giant vacuum so that he zoomed backward and disappeared.
Brynne whirled on the apsara. Mini swung out her Death Danda, and the moment Aru opened her palm, Vajra lengthened to a glittering spear.
“Shall we add turning on the representative of the heavens to your growing list of mistakes?” said Opal with a smile.
Brynne, Mini, and Aru faltered at the same time.
Boo paced on his perch, flapping angrily. “You may be sure that, crisis managing or not, I shall be reporting your impulsive behavior to the others, Opal! They would not stand for such misguided treatment!”
“The little darlings are now on a tour of the Nandana Gardens, which are lovely and bright and safe,” said Opal breezily. “Don’t fret so much.”
Boo alighted on Mini’s shoulder, his feathers furiously tufted.
Opal snapped her fingers, and once more everyone was sitting. The words vanished from the air. “Prophecies are inexact things. People don’t need inexactitude in their lives—it just causes panic. What the Otherworld needs is to believe that the devas and Pandavas will win the war.”
“But we don’t know if we can,” said Mini, frowning. “Are you…Are you asking us to lie?”
“I’m asking you to—at the very least—give people hope,” said Opal. “This is a prime branding opportunity. If you can’t do the actual heroic thing, let’s at least make it look like you could while the devas and the Council scramble to fix your mistakes. I trust you can manage a few questions from me.”