Aru Shah and the City of Gold - Roshani Chokshi Page 0,63

hand sanitizer. The magician emptied the carton and sighed loudly. “Ah. Thank you, child. As for the eye of Kubera that you seek, I can show you the way and perhaps even open your own eyes a little more.”

Aru blinked quickly as the magician started to change shape in front of her. His hunched back slowly straightened, and he grew taller before them. His wrinkled face became smooth, and his long nails shortened. Now he looked like a young man, except for his white hair, which hung around his ears like puffy clouds.

Aru peered closer.

They were clouds.

When he stretched his neck from side to side, droplets of rain fell down his collar. A tiny flash of lightning dangled from his left ear like an earring. His cloak, once frayed and purple, was now a majestic robe made of silver-laced storm clouds.

Kara found her voice first. “Who are you?”

The magician smiled and swept a bow. “I am called Uttanka,” he said in a rich, deep voice. “Will you hear my tale?”

Aru felt the others’ eyes turning to her. She lifted her chin, looked Uttanka in the eye, and said, “Yes.”

A tuft of Uttanka’s hair broke off and drifted toward them.

On the one hand, Aru was shocked. Who was Uttanka? Why did he show up as a beggar first? On the other hand, Aru was deeply intrigued by his cloud hair. Aru plucked at her braid. Her mom always told her to keep her hair tied up so she’d stop “shedding all over the house.” Did Uttanka have the same problem? Or would his fallen hair just dissolve into cold puddles? If he tried to tie up his cloud hair, would a man bun even hold?

The tuft expanded, transforming into a screen so wide that it blocked their view of the tunnel. An image bloomed on it, showing Uttanka and someone else—a blue-skinned figure draped in light with a peacock feather behind his ear. Aru recognized him immediately as the god Krishna, an avatar of Lord Vishnu, the god of preservation. In the memory, Uttanka put his hands together and bowed in worship.

“In my time, I was a well-respected rishi, and the god Krishna once offered me a boon of my own choosing,” Uttanka explained to them. “As I was often thirsty in my travels, I asked for the ability to find water whenever I needed it.”

Aru’s jaw dropped. THAT’S IT? she thought. YOU COULD’VE HAD ANYTHING!

Through their mind link, Mini scolded her with a sharp Shhh! and Aru closed her mouth.

“For a while, I did not need to call upon the boon,” Uttanka went on. “Then, one day, that changed.”

The image shifted to show Uttanka limping through the desert, his face raw with sunburn, his lips chapped. He held out his hands, begging: Water. Nothing happened. Uttanka raised both arms to the sky. Only hot air shimmered above the sand.

A figure came over the horizon, followed by a pack of dogs. Uttanka grimaced when he saw that it was a man covered in brown gunk. Aru desperately hoped that it was mud.

The stranger approached and asked, “Are you thirsty, friend?” He had a toothless smile, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair hung in matted ropes.

“I…”

“Here, I do not mind sharing! Why, I share with my dogs all the time!” said the man. He untied a pouch of water that was around his waist. Flies circled the dirt-encrusted cap. One of the mangy dogs sniffed excitedly at the container, panting and wagging its tail.

Uttanka took a step back, clearly disgusted. “One such as myself cannot accept water from you. Please be on your way.”

“Are you sure, friend?” insisted the man. “If you are thirsty, you must drink.”

Uttanka shook his head, shuddering.

“Very well,” the man said with a sigh.

The next moment, the man transformed. He had glowing dark skin and wore a crown that sparked with electricity. His eyes were the silver of storm clouds and he was bedecked in jewels that shone like miniature suns. On one palm he balanced a small golden pot. In the other hand he clutched a weapon that Aru recognized instantly:

A lightning bolt.

And not just any lightning bolt.

Vajra.

As Aru watched the screen, Vajra perked up. Tendrils of electricity snaked toward the image, like a dog curiously sniffing someone new at the park. Huh. Vajra dimmed and coiled back around Aru’s wrist as if saying, Meh. Looks fake.

Aru knew exactly who she was looking at: Indra, king of the gods, deity of thunder…and her soul father. She