Aiden snorted out a laugh.
As the bus rolled to a stop outside the Dahlonega Gold Mines, Aru looked at Kara, whose expression was growing more and more concerned. She was probably scared. And why shouldn’t she be? She hadn’t gone through what the Pandavas had. They were pretty hard to frighten these days.
“You’ll get used to the feeling of impending doom,” said Aru brightly. “It’s not so bad.” She pulled up her sleeve a little to reveal Vajra glowing brightly on her arm. Aru hoped it said, This lightning bolt has seen a lotta action.
“Well, I’m not used to it,” said Mini, rubbing her belly. “Ugh. Just hearing a prophecy makes my acid reflux act up.”
“Acid reflux?” Brynne looked interested. “Is that a new weapon?”
“Only to my esophagus. It’s being attacked by the hydrochloric acid that lives in my stomach.”
Now Brynne looked horrified.
“To be clear, we’re not always in peril,” said Aiden to Kara.
“Much peril, very danger,” contradicted Aru, stepping out of the bus and into the bright afternoon.
May in Georgia was a time of amiable sunshine before the muggy, awful, hair-sticking-to-your-forehead-heat of June, July, and August. Insects sang in the trees, and a gentle breeze ruffled the fragrant wisteria blossoms draping the brick walls. In the distance, Aru heard the sounds of kids laughing and splashing around in a nearby public pool. According to Aru’s home calendar, school had been out for a week, which meant that Aru had not only missed out on all the fun end-of-year events, but also she was living out her mother’s worst excuse ever. Apparently, Aru’s mom had blamed her daughter’s long absence on mono and promised that Aru would finish all her schoolwork over the summer, which was terrible for many reasons:
1) Mono was called “the kissing virus,” and the closest Aru Shah had ever come to a kiss was when a bumblebee had stung her chin.
2) Now everyone was going to think she had kissed someone, and she’d have to make up a fake boyfriend in Canada.
3) She had never been to Canada.
4) She had to do homework over the summer on top of taking command of a giant golden army in, like, a week.
5) Last, and most important of all, Aru would have given anything to be able to point out these things to her mom in person, but she had no idea where Krithika Shah had gone.
Aru’s spirits rose a little as a small museum came into view. Like her mom, she loved museums. Krithika had once said of them: What we know of the world are blips and fragments. The only people who can truly speak of history are ghosts.
There didn’t seem to be any hint of ghosts here, though. The only sign was a small post with a brass plaque that read:
THE SIDEWALKS OF DAHLONEGA ARE HISTORIC
BE MINDFUL OF YOUR FOOTING!
“Dah-lah-nee-gah,” pronounced Kara slowly. “I wonder what the name means.”
“Does it matter?” asked Brynne. “It’s not like that’s gonna help us find the way to Lanka.”
Kara primly squared her shoulders. “True, but it never hurts to understand a place a little better. That’s why words are so important. They’re like a soul and a story all in one.”
A soul and a story, thought Aru. That was beautiful. Aru scolded her brain: WHY DON’T YOU COME UP WITH STUFF LIKE THAT? Her brain responded by unleashing the nightmarish KARS4KIDS jingle.
“Wait a minute…” said Aiden, glancing down at his phone. “We got off at the wrong stop. The gold mine is six minutes thataway.” He pointed in another direction.
“So where are we?” asked Aru.
“We’re at the Dahlonega Gold Mine Museum.”
“If we want to get to Lanka, we need the mine,” said Kara. “Dad says there are golden guardians who watch over the Otherworld routes. Maybe we could find them? Is there any way to check for magic?”
“I highly doubt there’s any magic here,” said Brynne.
Mini brought out Dee Dee. In its compact-mirror form, it could detect disguised magic. When she opened it and spun around, the reflection glowed a soft violet. On Aru’s wrist, Vajra began to spark. Brynne’s choker flashed a brighter shade of blue, and when Kara raised her hand, her ring looked like sunshine bouncing off a windshield.
“Okay, scratch what I just said.” Brynne swiveled her head left and right.
“But where is it coming from?” asked Aru.
She rotated slowly in place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but when she turned around again, a bright shape loomed at the bottom of her vision. Aru caught a flash of golden fur and large teeth before yelling, “AHH! DEMON HAMSTER!”
Vajra instantly lengthened into a spear.
“Tourists!” squeaked the creature excitedly. “It’s happening!”
“I am overwhelmed with joy,” said another creature, who sounded decidedly joyless.
Mere inches from Aru’s feet, the sidewalk had split down the middle to reveal a chasm. A bright marble staircase with veins of gold and silver spiraled down into it, and on the top step two tall rodents stood on their haunches. They came up to her knees and had golden fur, beaver-like noses, half-moon ears tucked close to their heads, and round black eyes.
If they were demon hamsters, they didn’t look very demonic.
“You think we’re hamsters!” said the first creature gleefully. It nudged the other one, who continued to stare blankly ahead. “I told you things were looking up!”
The second creature maintained its stony expression.
Beside Aru, Aiden moved closer to the animals. “What’s happening?”
Kara shot a warning glance at Aru, her eyes flicking to Vajra. Aru twisted her wrist and Vajra shrank back into a bracelet.
“Greetings, guardians of the golden road,” said Kara respectfully. She pressed her hands together and bowed.
Mini elbowed Aru, and the four of them copied Kara’s movements.
“This is so exciting! Pleased to meet you. I am Sonu, your afternoon docent,” said the first creature, bowing. “This is our illustrious curator, Kanak! Say hello, Kanak.”
“No.”
Sonu ignored that. “Might you be here for the twelve o’clock tour?”
“Say no,” Kanak whispered to Kara.
“Stop that, Kanak!” scolded Sonu. “We haven’t had tourists in almost a thousand years!”
“I’m…I’m sorry?” ventured Aru.
Sonu shook its head. “We had a miserable experience with the press. We did one interview—”
“I didn’t want to do it,” muttered Kanak.
“It wasn’t too long ago, maybe fifth century, with Herodotus?”
“Yeah, super recent,” said Aru.
Mini elbowed her again.
“But he mistranslated us and called us ‘gold-digging ants’!” wept Sonu. “The Persians called us ‘mountain ants,’ you see, and, oh, it just became a PR debacle. Everyone running after anthills when we’ve been right here all along.”
“So…you’re not hamsters,” said Aru.
“We’re marmots!” said Kanak grumpily.
“Marmota himalayana, to be specific,” said Sonu. “The Tibetans called us snow pigs!”