them. The shiny raven on his shoulder cawed once, then flew off to join the other birds, shouting, “False alarm! False alarm! If we want a fight, let’s watch The Bachelor!”
And with a vast whump! of wings, all the birds vanished into the air. Only Garuda remained. He landed, his eyes pinned to the repaired eagle on the ground. Rudy swayed as its haunting melody washed over him.
“How did you do that?” asked Garuda. His voice was raspy, like he’d yelled too much in battle. It wouldn’t be great for karaoke, but everyone would probably be too scared to tell him so.
“I…I have a good ear,” said Rudy finally.
Garuda cocked his head, as if he weren’t just looking at Rudy but weighing his whole life.
“Do not forget it, little prince,” said Garuda. “May I have that?”
Rudy picked up the bird and handed it to Garuda, his face shining with pride. Rudy had said his family thought he couldn’t do anything important. They were wrong.
At Garuda’s touch, the bird warbled another tune. Aru could only describe it as moonlight melted into song. It wasn’t of this world, and she knew she’d never forget it for as long as she lived.
Then the bird fell silent. As they watched, its segments rearranged themselves until the eagle had transformed into a flat translucent rectangle with a silver streak in the middle, like a moonbeam pressed between glass. Indecipherable writing was scribbled across it.
Garuda’s face grew thoughtful. “I see now,” he said. “You did not break the bird.”
DUH! Aru wanted to yell.
Beside her, Brynne glowered, and even though she remained silent, Aru 100 percent imagined her saying, Oh, now you see?!
“You’re welcome, dude,” said Rudy happily.
Mini elbowed him sharply.
“But you entered the crypt under false pretenses,” said Garuda. “Why were you there?”
“That’s our business,” said Aru quickly.
“It is my business too,” said Garuda. “After all, I am one of the protectors of the treasures that arose from the churning of the Ocean of Milk. And one of those treasures is the Tree of Wishes.” The king glared around at them meaningfully.
Busted, thought Aru.
“Why you?” asked Brynne. Then she promptly added, “Um, no offense, of course. Your Highness.”
The king of the birds took a step back. He extended both arms, held up two talons on his left, and made a wide circle in the air with his right. A couple of moments passed with the five of them standing around and wondering what was happening.
In the space where the king had been waving his arm, an image popped up. A young Garuda flew through the skies, carrying a heavy golden pot. He dove through a dense jungle and then alighted in a shady grove full of huge dark snakes that reminded Aru of those climbing ropes that gym teachers brought out just to torture her.
“I have brought the nectar of immortality as you commanded,” the Garuda in the vision said, eyeing the snakes warily. “Now you must free me and my mother from your servitude.”
The snakes’ soft hissing sounded like laughter.
“Very well, giant bird,” they mocked. “You are free. But perhaps you shall not stay that way. Who knows what power we might wield once we taste the nectar of the gods?”
Garuda hesitated at that, and he held the pot of amrita closer to his body. “It is, as you said, the nectar of the gods. You cannot approach it in an unclean state. Go bathe yourselves, and I will wait here.”
The snakes murmured in agreement, then slithered away toward the river.
Once they were gone, Garuda’s head dropped to his chest. “You are free, Mother,” he said aloud, thrusting the pot into the air. “O Lord of Preservation, I have no intention of sharing this nectar with my brethren, and I have no wish to ingest it myself. What must I do?”
A bright orange light filled the air and the vision faded. Garuda clasped his talons. “That is how I entered the service of Lord Vishnu,” he said. “He rewarded me for resisting temptation when power was within my grasp, and then he took the amrita and buried it in a labyrinth beneath the Ocean of Milk.”
“That’s also how half my family ended up with forked tongues,” muttered Rudy. “Some of the amrita spilled on the grass, and they got super excited, licked it up, and cut their tongues.”
He stuck out his, tapping the end of it. “But not me!”
Although it sounded more like: Bah nah nee!
“Because of how I protected the amrita, Aranyani, goddess of