Bee.”
“Ooh, can you turn yourself into something extinct?” asked Aru. “Like a dodo bird?”
“Or an emu!” said Mini.
“Emus aren’t extinct,” said Brynne.
“Platypus?” asked Aru.
“Is a platypus even a bird?” asked Brynne.
“Actually, it’s a semiaquatic egg-laying mammal that’s similar to the echidna,” said Aiden, fussing with his camera. “They’ve got venomous ankle spurs.”
Rudy wrinkled his nose. “What kind of terrible animals exist in the human world?”
The girls ignored him and stared at Aiden.
“What?” Aiden asked. “I like nature documentaries. The cinematography is unparalleled.”
“Snob,” said Aru.
“Troll,” said Aiden, not even bothering to look up at her. But Aru noticed that a corner of his mouth lifted. Almost like a smile.
Brynne sighed. With a snap of her fingers, she transformed into a scowling swan with cobalt-blue feathers. Rudy held up the bird to her, and Swan-Brynne craned her neck around it. A second later, she changed back.
“Still can’t speak bird,” she declared.
Just then, an idea struck Aru.
“But Boo does!” she said. “I once saw him arguing with a falcon in Atlanta! I think it was during the Super Bowl….”
“If he’s with the twins, maybe they can bring him a message? We could send it in a dream,” Mini suggested.
Aru nodded, then ran her thumb along the bird’s wing. What are you trying to tell us? she wondered. Her thumb brushed aside one of its wooden plumes, and underneath, a dark curly symbol caught her eye.
“There’s a weird marking on this bird,” she said. “It looks like the letter G.”
“G?” repeated Rudy. He sat up straight, panic in his eyes. “Is he around?”
“Who is he?”
“Uh, the king of the birds? Sworn enemy of all snakes?” he said, swiveling his head. “Garuda?”
“You think he knows where the wish-granting tree went?” asked Aru.
“He might, but I’m not sticking around to find out. That guy hates my whole family.”
“I’m sure you did nothing to deserve it,” said Brynne drily. “And speaking of deserve, once we figure out where we’re going next, I’m not so sure you should come with us.”
Rudy’s expression crumpled. “Look, I’m sorry. But I can help—”
Brynne’s voice was gentle but firm. “I know it’s not your fault, but you still landed us in that yali pit.”
In the bird’s beak, the small gemstone glimmered, calling to Aru once more. With a pang, she remembered that she’d never explained her role in how they’d fallen into the pit. She couldn’t let Rudy take all the blame.
“He didn’t,” said Aru quietly.
The others turned to look at her.
Aru took a deep breath. “I saw something when I was trying to get the bird. A vision of the Sleeper. I think it came from the gem thing in its beak—I don’t know. I got startled, and I lost my grip.”
Rudy took the bird from her and gently pulled open the bird’s beak. It paused in its tune to squawk indignantly as Rudy plucked the jewel from its mouth.
“This isn’t an ordinary jewel,” he said. “It’s a receptacle for thoughts, emotions, memories…. I’ve seen stuff like this before, in my dad’s collection. This must’ve been what Mr. V was talking about! He said so himself, remember? That the Sleeper lost pieces of his soul or something when he went looking for the tree? In fact, I think if I—” Rudy pressed down hard on the jewel.
“NO!” yelled Aru.
But it was too late.
Something like a hologram emerged from the jewel, rendering an eerie sequence of scenes in front of them.
They saw a young boy in a market, his face turned away as he stared after a young child walking off hand in hand with her two parents laughing and smiling beside her. Someone grabbed the boy’s arm impatiently. “There you are! Come. It’s time to return home.”
The boy responded in a small voice: “The orphanage isn’t home. Homes have families.”
Whoever stood beside him laughed. “It’s the only home you’ll ever have.”
The vision jumped ahead, showing the young boy studying hard, building inventions, reading books. In every image, his face was hidden.
And then the projection changed to show the boy grown up—a man in his early twenties standing before a council of five elder Otherworld Council members. His dark hair flopped in front of his face, and when he pushed it back, Aru could see his eyes: one blue, one brown. It was him. The Sleeper. Only he was so young. He wore a dark polo with four red letters embroidered on the chest: OFCS. Aru recognized that acronym. It stood for the Otherworld Foster Care System, the same system that had