my foot and scanned for attackers. No one was in sight.
The room was full of shelves that had been carved into the walls of the tree. Covering the shelves and the floors were hundreds of gourds of all shapes and sizes. Some were solid; some were hollowed out. Many of them had beautiful, elaborate designs and were lit from within by flickering candles.
Some pumpkins were depicted with carvings far beyond anything I’d ever seen on Halloween. We walked past shelf after shelf, admiring the designs. Some were painted and oiled until they shone like carved gems. Kishan reached out to touch one.
“Wait! Don’t touch anything yet. This is one of the tests. We need to figure out what to do. Hold on for a second while I look at Mr. Kadam’s notes.”
Mr. Kadam had provided three pages of information on gourds. Kishan and I sat on the polished wood floor and read through them.
“I don’t think they have anything to do with the American slave song ‘Follow the Drinkin’ Gourd.’ I can’t see how that could apply. It refers to the stars, the Big Dipper specifically, which guided American slaves to freedom as they journeyed on the Underground Railroad.”
I flipped a page. “Here’s a lot of stuff about where certain gourds originated and facts about how sailors sought seeds of certain types to grow them. There’s a myth about gourd boats. I don’t think that’s it either.”
Kishan laughed. “How about this one? The one about gourds and fertility? Want to give it a try, Kells? I’m willing to make the sacrifice if you are.”
I skimmed through the myth and narrowed my eyes at him while he laughed. “Ha! In your dreams maybe. Definitely skipping that one.” I turned to another page. “This one says to throw a gourd onto water to call up sea monsters and sea serpents. Huh, not really needing one of those.”
“What about this Chinese myth? It says that a young boy coming of age must choose the gourd that would guide his life. Each one contained something different. Some were dangerous; some not. One even had the elixir of eternal youth. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Perhaps we should just pick one.”
“I think picking one is probably the right thing to do, but how do we know which one?”
“Not sure. I guess we just need to try. I’ll go first. Keep your hand aimed at whatever comes out.”
Kishan picked up a plain bell-shaped gourd. Nothing happened. He shook it, threw it in the air, and thumped it against the wall . . . still nothing.
“I’m going to try breaking it.” He smashed it on the ground, and a pear rolled out.
He snatched up the fruit and took a bite before I could warn him there might be something wrong with it. When he finally paid attention to me, the fruit was almost gone. He dismissed my warning and said it tasted fine. The broken gourd dissolved and melted into the floor.
“Okay, my turn.” I picked up a round gourd painted with flowers, raised it above my head, and smashed it to the floor. A black, hissing snake emerged from the broken pieces. It coiled to strike and spat at my leg. Before I could raise my hand, I heard a metallic whirring. Kishan’s chakram sank into the wooden floor at my feet, severing the snake’s head. The serpent’s body and the broken gourd melted into the floor.
“Umm, your turn. Maybe it’s a good idea to go with plain gourds.”
He chose a bottle-shaped gourd, which produced something that looked like milk. I cautioned him not to drink it because it might not be what it seemed. He agreed, but we found that if we didn’t drink it, the next gourd wouldn’t break, and the broken one with the milk inside wouldn’t dissolve. He gulped down the milk and we went on.
I chose a huge white gourd and got moonlight.
A small warty gourd produced sand.
A tall thin one made beautiful music.
A thick, gray gourd that looked like a bottle-nosed dolphin splashed seawater on Kishan’s leg.
My next choice was a spoon-shaped one. When I broke it, a black mist emerged and headed for me. I darted away, but it followed and moved toward my mouth and nose. There was nothing Kishan could do. I breathed it in and began coughing. My vision blurred. I felt dizzy and staggered. Kishan caught me.
“Kelsey! You’re turning pale! How do you feel?”
“Not good. I think that one was disease.”
“Here. Lie down and rest. Maybe