rakshasa wagons behind them, they jogged across the road and stopped in a patch of yellow light cast by the streetlamp. The light ended abruptly five feet away from the shadow of the overpass, as if someone had cut it with a knife. Overhead, the concrete bridge trembled from the rush of cars. The humid air smelled…unstirred, as if it had been left alone too long. Usually, the air near a magic portal was warped in a certain way, or there was a thrumming sensation, as if someone had plucked a violin string and the ripples of sound never quite died. Aru detected none of that.
Vajra wriggled uncomfortably on her wrist.
“We’ll be in the Otherworld soon,” Aru assured her lightning bolt.
Nikita pointed at the garland rope Brynne was pulling. “Don’t break it, ’cause I won’t be able to fix it once we go through.”
Aru looked over her shoulder at the vine-wrapped conked-out demon on her trolley. A tendril of fear wound through her. How much longer would the rakshasas stay unconscious?
As the group walked forward, the long shadow of the overpass transformed. It scrunched up, turned into a square, and then peeled itself off the ground and became a sharply defined door.
Beside Aru, Sheela’s eyes gave off a faint, icy glow. “We should go through,” the twin said. Her voice sounded funny, as if a second voice had been layered on top of it. “Now.”
Magical Dead Zone
The magical dead zone was not what Aru expected.
“It looks kinda like the Night Bazaar,” said Brynne.
Aru saw what she meant. Once they walked through the shadow door beneath the underpass, they stepped into a strange parallel-universe version of the Otherworld…but only if that parallel universe was like one of those depressing postapocalyptic movies where everything was awful. Aru glanced up, half expecting to see the Night Bazaar’s split sky showing both the sun and the moon. Instead, there stretched only gray twilight that promised neither stars nor the blush rays of dawn. It made Aru feel cold.
People in drab clothing milled about the dead-zone market. Aru saw a few with feathers showing at their collars, and others with sawed-down horns on their head, as if they were trying to hide their true identities. They all had an air of unmistakable sadness about them.
Ash-colored stalls offering expired magical fruit hobbled feebly through the crowd, while merchants wound their way in between, hawking wares like cloudy vials of discount dreams. In the walls surrounding the market were dozens of doors, all squat and shabby-looking except for one: at the far end of the courtyard loomed a steel exit fifty feet high. At least a hundred people were queued up before it.
“That’s the door to the Otherworld,” said Aiden. “It recognizes who can access the other side.”
The Pandavas made their way closer. In front of the door was a low glass platform roughly the size of a dining room table. One by one, the people seeking to go through the door would step onto the rectangle. It would glow red, and the person would walk off, looking more dejected than before.
Aiden frowned. “The door knows they’re exiles.”
Off to the side of the platform, a light-skinned man dressed in a bone-white suit held up a roll of parchment and shouted to the crowd: “Step right up, hopefuls, and add your name to the contract! You’ve heard the rumors—war is coming! The devas need you!” He made a sweeping gesture at the line of people standing in front of the door. “Just one year of your life! Think about it! Fight for the devas and we may all earn the chance to return home!”
Beside Aru, Aiden scowled. “What a scam,” he muttered. “These people don’t need false promises.”
“You can get kicked out of the Otherworld?” asked Nikita, alarmed. “For what?”
“Some break the laws of secrecy. Some get involved with the wrong crowd.” Aiden took a breath, glancing down at his feet for a moment. “Some just fall in love with the wrong people.”
Aru looked at him sharply. He was talking about his mom, Malini. Once, she’d been a famous apsara, but when she chose to marry a mortal, she was forced to give up any claim to the magical world. Last year, she and Aiden’s dad had gotten divorced, and Aru remembered how he hated that his mom had been forced to sacrifice everything for a love that hadn’t lasted.
Beside him, Brynne wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed so tight that Aiden wheezed a little. “C’mon,”