Aru Shah and the City of Gold - Roshani Chokshi Page 0,20

grief.

“You can see it, can’t you?” asked a low voice at her side. “We call it a ghost window.”

Aru turned around sharply. Kanak, the grumpy marmot, was also staring at the misty image. There was no hint of annoyance on its face now, only sorrow.

“Sonu doesn’t like to mention the ghosts, but they are part of the history of the place, and they should be acknowledged,” said Kanak. “Do you know what Dahlonega means?”

Aru shook her head.

“It came from the Cherokee word for gold, adela dalonige’i,” said Kanak solemnly. “The First Nations people had known about the precious metal for hundreds of years. Then, in 1838, white men drove them out of this part of their ancestral lands so the settlers could have the gold for themselves. Of course, the Cherokee went on to flourish in the East and West, but the ghost window shows only one glimpse into their history. What you see happening before you, child, is the Trail of Tears.”

Aru watched as the ghost window slowly faded out of sight, but not out of her memory.

“Gold is a beautiful but treacherous thing,” said Kanak. “We keepers know all too well the lengths humans have gone to possess it.” The marmot turned its dark eyes knowingly on her. “I don’t know what it is that you want, but be forewarned: The gold road is intractable and unforgiving. It shall do no one’s bidding but its own.”

Aru swallowed hard. “I, um…I’d better catch up with my friends.”

Kanak said nothing as Aru went through the glass doors. Her thoughts were a jumble of her mother’s and Kara’s words weaving together.

The only people who can truly speak of history are ghosts.

Words are like a soul and a story all in one.

The very name of the city was a ghost story. Even as Aru stepped into the bright light of the shop, she couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how shiny it was, the gold of this place was cursed.

As a general rule, Aru hated souvenir shops.

Every time she entered one, one of three terrible things usually happened:

1) There was a ginormous revolving personalized-keychain contraption, but no matter how many times she spun it and searched for herself, she never found her name.

2) She was honestly, just looking! at one of the shot glasses before it suddenly exploded in her hand and she had to pay for an ugly I WAS AT glass even though she didn’t want one.

But Aru was not prepared for the gold roads souvenir shop.

It wasn’t some dinky pile of bricks where snow globes were sold. At first, it didn’t even look like a shop, but a large, empty courtyard in front of three huge arches. One led to the mouth of a cave. The second would have looked identical if it weren’t for the tools floating in the middle of its opening, making perfect gold coins, sparkling gemstone slippers, and feathered hats. The last archway, however, was a mystery. Fog clouded the entrance. It looked like the smoke-filled mouth of a monster.

Aru pointed at the third arch. “I’m guessing that’s the road to Lanka.”

Some five feet away, everyone swiveled toward her.

“Oh!” said Kara. “You’re here!”

“I’m surprised you noticed,” said Aru.

Kara looked confused and darted a glance at Aiden. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Shah’s just being grumpy,” said Aiden. He patted his messenger bag and asked Aru, “Are you hangry? I know how much you like Swedish Fish, so I packed—”

“Spare me the pity food,” said Aru, turning from Aiden sharply, but not fast enough to miss the flash of hurt across his face.

Why are you throwing a tantrum? came Brynne’s mind-link message.

No one’s throwing anything, shot back Aru.

Mini didn’t respond, but she looked disappointed.

Aru pointed at the archway. “So now what?”

“Do we make a run for it?” asked Brynne.

Mini frowned. “Didn’t Sheela say something about remembering to be polite?”

“Polite to a souvenir shop?” scoffed Aru. “That, by the way, has no souvenirs?”

Sonu, who had left the group to find Kanak, now scampered back to them. It rose up on its haunches and clapped its paws. A low tremor ran through the ground, and Aru stumbled backward as little mounds started bubbling up in the floor.

The mounds sprouted and shelves grew up. The shelves were stocked with snow globes filled with gold flakes, candy molded into lifelike golden nuggets, bobble heads of miners, and shiny magnets. A flock of T-shirts with the silhouette of two marmots on the front flew past, chased by