Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes (Pandava Quartet #3) - Roshani Chokshi Page 0,16

words LEDGENDS ONLY appeared wrapped in inked barbed wire.

Aiden sucked in his breath sharply.

“It has that effect on people,” said the Marut. “Wait till you see this one.” He lifted his other arm, where the words YOUR A BEAST stretched across his forearm.

Aru wasn’t quite sure how much time they wasted—sorry, spent—with the Maruts. It seemed the police didn’t have much work to do, and so their days were consumed with spontaneous push-up contests (Brynne won today’s), eating contests (Brynne also won), and secretly watching reruns of The Great British Bake Off (which Brynne insisted she could win).

While everyone else mixed with the Maruts—Mini offering medical advice, Aiden explaining how there was more to photography than selfies, Nikita fixing their outfits, and Sheela reading palms—Aru walked to the single window that looked out over Amaravati. It afforded a perfect view of the celestial city hundreds of feet below. The metropolis was divided into cloud islands connected by sky bridges. On one island, Aru saw an expanse of bright greenery that had to be Nandana, the sacred grove of the heavens. A bridge bearing the sign I-85N CONSTELLATION BLVD/LUNAR MANSIONS disappeared into a shimmering fog.

Amaravati was a place rich with splendor. But it wouldn’t be there at all if the devas hadn’t won back their immortality by churning the Ocean of Milk. They couldn’t do it alone, so they’d asked the asuras for help, promising to share eternal life. But in the end, they’d broken their promise, and people got hurt. People like Lady M, who had just wanted to be remembered for her true self. And even Takshaka, the serpent king who hated the Pandavas because in another life they’d set fire to his forest home and killed his wife.

Those two hadn’t been wrong in their anger. They just hadn’t been right in how they dealt with it.

All of it made Aru uneasy.

She was still looking out the window when Boo flew through the doorway.

“She’s coming!” he squawked.

Instantly, the Maruts scrambled. Sleeves were rolled down, conversations abandoned, helmets shoved into place. Within seconds, all forty-nine were flattened against the wall, serious and silent once more.

Aru wasn’t sure what to expect of a “crisis manager,” but it certainly wasn’t what stepped across the threshold: an apsara with slender, dark limbs, wearing a jumpsuit made out of starry fabric.

She flung up her hands, one of which held a blinged-out tablet. “Helloooo, Pandavaaaas! I’m Opal. You’re welcome in advance. Before we get started, let’s snap a quick BTS, shall we?”

“What’s that? A disease?” asked Mini.

“It means behind the scenes,” said the apsara, swiveling around to take a selfie with the Pandavas.

She caught Aru in the middle of saying, “HUH?” which probably made for an awful picture.

Opal quickly edited the photo. “Adorbs. We can use that for a little day in the life promo. Just think of what we’re doing as curating reality.”

“Then it’s not reality,” said Aiden flatly.

Opal looked up, catching sight of the camera on his hip, and smiled. It was a beautiful but weirdly hollow expression.

“Well, if you’d prefer reality, how’s this? You’ve landed the heavens in a serious crisis, and you do not want to face the wrath of angry gods, trust me. Right now, half the Council of Guardians is on an off-the-grid mission to Lanka, where they’re trying to decipher the prophecy before the five days are up. The other half is here, trying to keep everything from becoming a marketing nightmare. A lot of people heard about the commotion in the magical dead zone, and now they want to know what this prophecy is about, so we’re spreading word that it was nothing more than a false alarm.”

“We can help!” cut in Brynne. “Just tell us how to fix it—”

“Oh no, no, no,” said Opal with a laugh. “Sweet, but no. As if anyone would trust you with a mission after that last botched plan. You have to keep training and stay out of sight. So leave it to me to salvage the only thing you’ve got left.”

Opal’s teeth were so bright, Aru caught a rainbow sheen at the edge of her wide smile when she said, “Your image.”

That’s So On-Brand

Before anyone could ask Opal a question or even say a quick good-bye to the Maruts, the crisis manager whispered something into the air and the Pandava crew was whisked into a cloud conference room. It was bright and airy, but completely without windows. A wide white oval table appeared in the middle of the space, encircled