Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes, page 18
“Yeah. Come back when it’s Halloween!” chimed in Brynne.
The raven froze. The birds fell silent. Slowly, the raven turned to her. “What did you say to me?”
“Go haunt a poet!” snapped Aru.
“Or do you not do that anymore?” asked Brynne.
“I think you mean nevermore,” said Aiden.
“THAT’S IT!” screeched the raven.
It launched itself off Garuda’s head, but the king of the birds caught him one-handed. He narrowed his amber eyes at the bird before putting it on his shoulder. The raven huffed, its feathers settling. Silent as ever, Garuda crossed his arms, his gaze falling to the mechanized eagle in Rudy’s grip.
The raven sighed and declared, “You are hereby charged with the theft of a precious object on loan from King Garuda to the goddess Aranyani. Following a thorough investigation of the crypt, it was found that four to five persons escaped after freeing the bound yalis. His Majesty, King Garuda, was able to track the stolen object to the whereabouts of the thieves.” The raven coughed, then leaned forward. “That means you.”
“You don’t understand—” started Brynne, but Aiden held her back.
“Furthermore, the fact that said stolen property was found in the hands of none other than a descendant of Garuda’s most vile aunt, Kadru—”
From the branches, the birds hissed. Garuda’s scowl merely deepened.
Aru swiveled around to face Rudy. “Garuda’s aunt?” she asked. “You guys are related?”
“I mean, yeah, but she’s literally my least-favorite relative,” mumbled Rudy. “She pinches my cheeks all the time—I hate it.”
“Confirms the treachery and wrongdoing of all persons present,” concluded the raven. “And finally, not only did you steal the property of Garuda, you broke it. You robbed it of its voice.”
“We didn’t know it belonged to anyone!” protested Aru. “And it was broken already!”
“Pah!” spat the raven. “You broke it because you knew it could tell the truth!”
Tell the truth? So it was a clue, Aru thought.
Rudy turned the bird over in his hands, understanding dawning on his face.
Aru felt frantic. The one thing that could save them was broken, and they had no idea how to fix it.
“Therefore, you shall be…”
The raven flailed his wing at the branches, and hundreds of birds hollered, “EXECUTED!”
They cheered and whooped, and Garuda himself clapped and nodded. Aru took a step back. Vajra began to shift and spark with electricity.
“That’s not fair!” Mini said. She stepped forward, holding up Dee Dee like a scepter. Behind her, Rudy’s eyebrows shot up. “You can’t just execute us because Rudy is a naga—”
“Prince,” whispered Rudy. Then he looked at them innocently. “What? It’s the truth.”
“He’s never done anything to you,” Mini said to Garuda.
“It’s true.” Rudy nodded.
“He can barely defend himself,” continued Mini.
“Very true,” said Brynne.
Rudy opened his mouth to protest. Aiden reached over and closed it.
“How could this boy threaten the king of the birds?” finished Mini. “We had no intention of stealing anything from you—we didn’t even know it was yours. We were looking for something else, found this, and thought it would lead us in the right direction.”
Aru had to hand it to Mini—she was becoming a smooth talker. And she’d kept everything vague. No reason for the whole world to know that they were searching for the wish-granting tree.
Garuda regarded them. Then his gaze slid to the raven.
“You want an explanation, little demigod?” demanded the raven. “Observe.”
The raven cawed three times, and the birds dove from the trees, all of them converging and flying in a circle around the accused. In the middle of the vortex they created, images appeared in the air. Aru saw a younger Garuda covered in writhing snakes as he walked down a huge white hallway in what looked like a palace. There was a look of anguish on his face as the snakes twined around him and flicked his ear with their tongues. Garuda glanced behind himself, and the view shifted to show two older women standing at the entrance of a large door. Their similar eyes and chins told Aru they were related.
One of them, draped in a sari made of glimmering scales, smiled slyly at Garuda. “Go on, then,” she said. “Take your cousins out to play, and do not let any harm befall them.”
“Please, sister, let my son rest,” said the other woman. “You have no quarrel with him.” She wore a simple outfit of spun cotton, and her hair was pulled back. Her face was sad and gaunt, whereas her sister’s was round and shining.
“You are the one who lost the bet, Vinata,” said the fancier woman. “How is it my fault that you agreed to be my servant? I can command you to do anything I please. I may not be able to control your son, but he will listen to you. And right now, my sweet children desire fresh air. I do not wish their poor, soft bellies to be torn up by the ground, so Garuda will carry them.”
“When Kashyapa returns, he will be displeased at how you’ve come to treat me, Kadru,” said Vinata.
Aru recognized the name Kashyapa. He was a powerful sage.
“When our husband returns. He’ll be meditating for a thousand more years, I imagine!” scoffed Kadru. “Which means I can enjoy a thousand more years of your servitude. Leave us, Garuda. My hair needs to be braided, and if your mother is distracted, she’ll do it sloppily.”
Garuda looked at both women with barely restrained rage. His mother merely nodded.
The image in front of Aru faded as the birds broke out of their circle and hovered in the air.
“Our king spent years in the service of his aunt, the mother of all snakes,” declared the raven. “It was only through hard work and nobility that he managed to free both himself and Vinata. And that is why birds and snakes do not trust one another to this day.”
Aru had no idea there was a mother of snakes…. Now she kind of wondered whether the whole “mother of dragons” thing from Game of Thrones was actually real, but it didn’t seem the right time to ask.
“The naga boy before you is a direct descendant of Kadru and her slimy spawn!” said the raven. “He’s the grandson of the naga king Takshaka, after all!”
“Yeah, well, he and I are not on great terms, trust me,” said Rudy.
“Trust you?” the raven squawked. “I think not.”
“But—” started Rudy.
With a flash, a ring of magical torches instantly illuminated the night sky. Aru blinked against the sudden light while the birds flapped in place before them. She glimpsed thousands of shining black eyes and sharp beaks and had the uncomfortable realization that they looked a lot like missiles.
Garuda raised his arm, then brought it down. As one, they struck.
Surprise Ostrich!
“Incoming!” hollered Brynne.
The girls moved immediately into defense mode.
Aru cast Vajra, and the lightning bolt transformed into a net. A swath of birds was caught in mid-flight. They squawked as they dropped to the forest floor, squirming beneath the mesh.
“Knock ’em out,” Aru commanded Vajra.
With one pulse of the lightning net, the birds fell unconscious. Vajra zipped back to Aru’s side, electrifying Aiden’s scimitars on its way.
Brynne tossed her mace between her hands, looking hungrily at the birds. “Braised, roasted, shredded…I like fowl,” she said.
At that, some of the birds veered away, swooping close enough that Aru felt a breeze on her face.
Aiden leaped in front of Brynne, swirling his scimitars to amplify her wind vortex. It blew through the birds and they cartwheeled away, cawing angrily.
“Adrishya,” said Mini.
Violet light swept up the Pandavas, Aiden, and Rudy, instantly rendering them invisible.
They ducked, weaved, and sidestepped to avoid attack, and the birds whooped and cawed in frustration.
“Now!” said Brynne.
Aru, Brynne, and Aiden channeled everything they could at the flock—concentrated tornadoes, winnowing electrified blades, and bolts of lightning. When a large percentage of the birds had fallen away, Mini replaced the veil of invisibility with a violet shield. The birds that had somehow managed to slip through the cracks were rewarded with a powerful conk to the head when they hit the force field.
The Pandavas regrouped, quickly catching their breath. Aru glanced over at Rudy to see that he was kneeling on the ground, rummaging around in his messenger bag.
“Rudy, what are you doing?” demanded Aiden. “Go hide!”
“No,” he said. The wooden eagle lay before him on the grass. He pulled out glowing stones with a glimmering mesh overlay—something that looked like the heart of the moon, and a chunk of quartz that wriggled as if it were alive. “Garuda thinks it’s broken, but I can fix it.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Aiden.
“Of course not!” said Rudy cheerfully.
“Then why—?”
“Because I’m the only chance you’ve got.”
Aiden spun as a furious albatross dove toward him, nearly taking out his eye with its vast wings. Mini’s force fields were getting better with practice, but they could still just barely cover the five of them. A flock of sparrows dove repeatedly at the violet shield until small cracks appeared in it, like ice breaking on a puddle. At one point, a horde of parakeets flew at Brynne, spurring her to leap into the air and shape-shift into a huge blue bird with skinny legs, and squawk, “SURPRISE OSTRICH!”
The parakeets screamed as Ostrich-Brynne kicked them out of the air and plopped back to the ground.
“Surprise ostrich?!” yelled Aru. “That’s the best, most random thing you’ve ever—” She dove behind Mini’s shield as a flock of hummingbirds with needle-sharp beaks zigzagged toward her.
While Aru was on the ground trying to get her bearings, she noticed that only one figure remained silent and still in all the chaos:
Garuda.
He never moved, never flinched, and never took his eyes off the Pandavas. She bet that even when they were invisible, the king of the birds could see them just fine. The fact that he refused to fight sent a chill through Aru.
He didn’t fight because he didn’t need to.
Garuda was invincible…and he was biding his time until he was needed to close the deal. Which meant Rudy had to fix that broken eagle, stat. Aru didn’t think Garuda was the type to make small talk. Or, actually, any kind of talk.
Aru looked over at the naga, who was nodding and…humming along with the jewels.
“This isn’t rearrange-your-playlist time, Rudy!” shouted Aru. “Can’t you go any faster?”
Gogo had just blown away another group of birds, but the sky buzzed with new attackers.
Rudy sat with his knees pulled to his chest while the mechanical eagle perched on his shoulder and croaked its hoarse tune into his ear. He closed his eyes as he worked, rearranging jewels by touch until he’d shaped what looked like a lopsided star. “Just a little more time!” he said. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
He shoved a sapphire into place, then set the eagle in the middle of the jewels. A wild look of joy spread across his face. “There! Listen! Don’t you hear it?”
Aru tilted her head, expecting something grand. But she didn’t hear anything except the powerful beat of wings just outside Mini’s force field.
She stood up. This is it, thought Aru. A parakeet is going to be the death of me.
“I hear it…” said Mini, a look of awe blooming across her face. She lowered her hand for an instant, and the violet shield flickered out.
“Watch out, Shah!” yelled Aiden.
Holding up a sparking Vajra just in time, Aru repelled a flock of cackling chickadees. At the same instant, she heard something, too. It was a sound that made the whole world seem like poured honey—slow and thick and golden. She glanced at Brynne and Aiden as they spun in perfect tandem. Pollen from the springtime trees dusted them like stars. Even the chickadees didn’t look so awful now.
The eagle was singing a new song. It made Aru think of the slow shift of something vast and celestial, like the rotation of a planet, or the sound constellations made when they settled into the sky at night.
All at once, the birds stopped attacking.
Mini’s force field vanished. Brynne and Aiden lowered their weapons, and Vajra snapped back into a bracelet on Aru’s wrist. A shadow fell over them, and Aru looked up just in time to see Garuda hovering above them. The shiny raven on his shoulder cawed once, then flew off to join the other birds, shouting, “False alarm! False alarm! If we want a fight, let’s watch The Bachelor!”
And with a vast whump! of wings, all the birds vanished into the air. Only Garuda remained. He landed, his eyes pinned to the repaired eagle on the ground. Rudy swayed as its haunting melody washed over him.
“How did you do that?” asked Garuda. His voice was raspy, like he’d yelled too much in battle. It wouldn’t be great for karaoke, but everyone would probably be too scared to tell him so.
“I…I have a good ear,” said Rudy finally.
Garuda cocked his head, as if he weren’t just looking at Rudy but weighing his whole life.
“Do not forget it, little prince,” said Garuda. “May I have that?”
Rudy picked up the bird and handed it to Garuda, his face shining with pride. Rudy had said his family thought he couldn’t do anything important. They were wrong.
At Garuda’s touch, the bird warbled another tune. Aru could only describe it as moonlight melted into song. It wasn’t of this world, and she knew she’d never forget it for as long as she lived.
Then the bird fell silent. As they watched, its segments rearranged themselves until the eagle had transformed into a flat translucent rectangle with a silver streak in the middle, like a moonbeam pressed between glass. Indecipherable writing was scribbled across it.
Garuda’s face grew thoughtful. “I see now,” he said. “You did not break the bird.”
DUH! Aru wanted to yell.
Beside her, Brynne glowered, and even though she remained silent, Aru 100 percent imagined her saying, Oh, now you see?!
“You’re welcome, dude,” said Rudy happily.
Mini elbowed him sharply.
“But you entered the crypt under false pretenses,” said Garuda. “Why were you there?”
“That’s our business,” said Aru quickly.
“It is my business too,” said Garuda. “After all, I am one of the protectors of the treasures that arose from the churning of the Ocean of Milk. And one of those treasures is the Tree of Wishes.” The king glared around at them meaningfully.
Busted, thought Aru.
“Why you?” asked Brynne. Then she promptly added, “Um, no offense, of course. Your Highness.”
The king of the birds took a step back. He extended both arms, held up two talons on his left, and made a wide circle in the air with his right. A couple of moments passed with the five of them standing around and wondering what was happening.
In the space where the king had been waving his arm, an image popped up. A young Garuda flew through the skies, carrying a heavy golden pot. He dove through a dense jungle and then alighted in a shady grove full of huge dark snakes that reminded Aru of those climbing ropes that gym teachers brought out just to torture her.
“I have brought the nectar of immortality as you commanded,” the Garuda in the vision said, eyeing the snakes warily. “Now you must free me and my mother from your servitude.”
The snakes’ soft hissing sounded like laughter.
“Very well, giant bird,” they mocked. “You are free. But perhaps you shall not stay that way. Who knows what power we might wield once we taste the nectar of the gods?”
Garuda hesitated at that, and he held the pot of amrita closer to his body. “It is, as you said, the nectar of the gods. You cannot approach it in an unclean state. Go bathe yourselves, and I will wait here.”
The snakes murmured in agreement, then slithered away toward the river.
Once they were gone, Garuda’s head dropped to his chest. “You are free, Mother,” he said aloud, thrusting the pot into the air. “O Lord of Preservation, I have no intention of sharing this nectar with my brethren, and I have no wish to ingest it myself. What must I do?”
A bright orange light filled the air and the vision faded. Garuda clasped his talons. “That is how I entered the service of Lord Vishnu,” he said. “He rewarded me for resisting temptation when power was within my grasp, and then he took the amrita and buried it in a labyrinth beneath the Ocean of Milk.”
“That’s also how half my family ended up with forked tongues,” muttered Rudy. “Some of the amrita spilled on the grass, and they got super excited, licked it up, and cut their tongues.”
He stuck out his, tapping the end of it. “But not me!”
Although it sounded more like: Bah nah nee!
“Because of how I protected the amrita, Aranyani, goddess of the forests, entrusted me with the task of helping to hide Kalpavriksha,” said Garuda. He lifted the panel of moonlight. “This sacred object can reveal its whereabouts. But that secret is not meant for your eyes. The tree demands too great a sacrifice—it may only be used at the will of the gods.”
“There was a prophecy…” said Mini. “We think it’s about us and the tree. If we don’t find the real Kalpavriksha within two days, the Sleeper’s army could destroy the Otherworld.”
Garuda took his time responding. “If you could use the tree, what would you wish?” he asked quietly. “To win at war? You know nothing of what victory looks like. I regret what I must do, but I cannot let you continue.”
He stretched out his wings, snuffing out the torches and letting the night’s darkness crash around them. Aru was going for her lightning bolt when she heard a loud squawk. There was a flash of tufted gray and an indignant caw that could only belong to one bird.
Boo soared toward them, screeching at Garuda: “NOT MY PANDAVAS, YOU BIRDBRAIN!”
