the tent, which was suddenly empty. She pulled on a sweater and trudged into the cold night. Rudy, Aiden, Brynne, and Mini already stood in their campsite, looking up at the sky. And they weren’t alone. Thousands of birds filled the trees around them.
The wooden eagle, lying on its side between the two tents, called out its strange riddling tune.
“Remember how the eagle has the letter G on it?” Aiden asked her.
“Yeah…”
“It does stand for Garuda.”
The king of the birds? Aru frowned. “How do you know?”
Aiden pointed up at the stars, and Vajra sparkled with panic.
“Because,” said Aiden, “he’s decided to pay us a visit.”
Quoth the Raven…
Garuda, king of the birds, flew toward them. Aru hadn’t met very many kings. She had, however, seen advertisements for pro wrestling matches, and this was starting to look like one. She and her friends might have been standing in the middle of a ring for all that was happening around them.
The surrounding trees bent and groaned under the weight of thousands of birds cawing and screeching from the branches like an audience thirsting for a fight. Maybe it had something to do with being in Garuda’s vicinity, but Aru found she could understand everything the birds were saying…and it wasn’t exactly polite.
“Eat them, my king!” shouted a jackdaw in the branches.
A blue jay with a southern accent hollered, “I brought some Tabasco sauce to share with y’all!”
A small chickadee the length of Aru’s pinky chirped in a sweet, high-pitched voice, “SHOW THEM A FRESHLY WASHED WINDOW AND HAVE THEM RUN INTO IT A HUNDRED TIMES.” Then it cackled hysterically.
Aru was starting to regret every time she’d filled up the bird feeder.
Something sailed out of the trees toward them. Brynne held out her mace. Mini cast a shield. Aiden pulled out his scimitars. And Rudy…well, at least he had the mechanized eagle between his hands. Aru aimed Vajra as a spear, on the verge of letting it loose….
Bam!
An object fell to the ground, tendrils of smoke writhing from it.
It was…
“Toast?” asked Aru.
Aiden inspected the smoldering loaf of bread. “Well, it is now.”
“How would you like empty carbs thrown at your head?!” shouted a duck. “Some of us don’t like that processed nonsense!”
“Some of us are gluten intolerant!” honked a goose.
“Why don’t you featherless noodles ever give us things that don’t taste like cardboard?” huffed an owl.
From the trees, the birds began to chant:
“NO MORE BREAD!”
“NO MORE BREAD!”
“NO MORE BREAD!”
Aru turned to her friends, but they were just as bewildered as she was.
A gust whooshed past them. Aru shielded her eyes with the inside of her elbow, squinting as dirt and twigs rose in a tiny storm. She had never stood next to a helicopter, but she imagined it was kind of like this. In the midst of that powerful wind, a figure landed in front of them. The force of his touchdown sent a tremor through the earth.
Aru lowered her arm when the gust died down. She knew Garuda from the statues her mom had on display in the museum. Aside from the fact that he wasn’t made of sandstone, the real king looked a lot like those sculptures. His eyes were a handsome shade of amber, and human-shaped, but his face was covered in brilliant green feathers, and he had a sharp golden beak instead of a nose. Bronze wings nearly seven feet long lay folded behind his shoulders; their tips brushed the grass. From the neck down, he looked like a strong man with tanned skin, except that his hands and feet ended in sharp bird-of-prey talons. Garuda had a wide-brimmed solid-gold baseball cap over his dark curly hair, and wore long silk shorts covered in trophy badges. On his shoulder, a shiny black raven cawed loudly, and the bird chant stopped.
“You know him as Khagesvara!” shouted the raven. “King of the birds!”
The birds cheered. The Pandavas drew a little closer. Rudy tugged his hood over his face.
“You know him as Suparna!” squawked the raven. “He who has beeeeee-ooootiful feathers!”
At this, Garuda nodded, acknowledging the crowd for the first time. He shook out his wings, vast enough that Aru and her friends ducked instinctively to avoid getting thwacked in the face. His feathers shone brightly, Aru thought, like the glint of a knife’s blade.
“You know him as Nagantaka!” said the raven. “THE DEVOURER! It’s the one, the only…GAAAARUDA!”
The king turned in a slow circle, arms up and muscles flexed. The birds cheered so hard, a fine layer of feathers drifted down to