into a tight knot.
“Is a yali coming out of—?” asked Aru.
“Just a spider,” said Aiden, heaving a sigh of relief.
“For now,” said Brynne, stomping the floor herself for good measure.
“What’s wrong with you guys?” asked Nikita, tossing her hair. “They’re just statues.”
“Until they come alive and turn into freaking crocodile things that snap at your feet!” said Rudy.
Nikita turned in a circle, then cupped her hands to her mouth. “Helloooo?” she called.
The floor started bubbling. Aru, Mini, Brynne, and Aiden crowded together, and Rudy darted behind them. Aru tried to grab Nikita, but the twin shrugged her off. Rising from the concrete, a life-size holographic image of a yakshini with pepper-gray moth wings appeared. She had rich brown skin the color of tree bark, tightly coiled black hair, a small heart-shaped mouth, and wide, friendly eyes. On her bright orange apron was a name tag that read I’M LIZZIE! ASK ME ABOUT TODAY’S GREAT DEALS!
The hologram seemed to be prerecorded. She fixed them with a bright smile, even though her eyes were focused somewhere slightly above their heads, and said, “Welcome to Aranyani’s Garden Supplies, perfect for all your botanical needs! We are the world’s leading supplier of guard manticores, behemoth-fire-ant pest control, alchemical flowers, and more! Our hours of operation are Monday through Friday, eight a.m. Eastern Standard Time to ten p.m. Otherworld Standard Time.”
The holograph paused, its visage shimmering. “If you have arrived outside normal business hours, please record a message and our customer service representative will get back to you as soon as possible. And remember”—the holograph’s smile grew even wider and she raised her arms, gesturing to the statues—“we are watching! Do not attempt to steal, incinerate, or otherwise compromise our stock. Have a wonderful day, and thank you for your patronage!”
The holograph disappeared.
“See?” said Nikita, crossing her arms. “Nothing to worry about! We don’t steal, the yalis don’t wake up. Now let’s go.”
And with that, she stalked off toward a row of plants.
Brynne beamed proudly. “She’s so brave! She’s like me when I was ten. Definitely a Pandava.”
Mini shook her head. “When I was ten, I hid in the bathtub during thunderstorms.”
Aru did not volunteer what she was like at ten years old, mostly because it involved two straws, Pumbaa’s iconic line When I was a young WARTHOG!, and a very bad recess. Anyway.
“After you, Prince,” said Aiden, moving aside to let Rudy break through the pack.
Rudy was still staring up at the yali statues. “I’ll guard the exit?”
Brynne shoved him forward. “Nice try.”
They followed Nikita to a bed of seedlings. It sprawled the length of a narrow dining table and came up to Aru’s hip.
For the first time, Aru realized that what she thought was fluorescent lighting overhead was actually hardened beams of raw sunlight. On the underside of the floating beams, cramped black writing spelled out HARVESTED ON SEPTEMBER 24, 1993/EXPIRES ON APRIL 7, 2023.
“Light has an expiration date?” asked Aru.
“We’re going to have an expiration date if the plants get angry,” said Rudy, pointing at a sign hanging below the table.
KEEP QUIET! WE’RE GROWING!
Aru risked a glance at the nearest yali. These didn’t seem like the ones they’d met at the crypt, alive and slithering and snapping…they seemed like ordinary statues. But she didn’t like the dark moss clinging to their faces. Or the sharpness of their teeth.
Then she noticed that a white chalk circle outlined the small nursery.
“That’s definitely not good,” said Rudy, following Aru’s gaze. “I’ve seen enchantments like that in Naga-Loka. If a yali crossed that boundary, their kill mode would be activated.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen if you do what I say,” whispered Nikita.
She put her hands on top of the dirt, spreading her fingers as if she were pressing her palms into a soft blanket. She closed her eyes, humming, and then pulled her hands back.
“They’re fussy,” she said, rolling up her sleeves. “And full of magic. Very powerful.”
“They don’t look very powerful,” said Brynne, peering down at the bed.
Aru had to agree. The plants didn’t seem special, certainly not like they could reveal where the wish-granting tree was kept. The fifteen baby plants were arranged in three rows of five, their grass-green tops sticking barely three inches out of the dirt. It was only when she examined them close up that she saw some unusual qualities. There was touch of real gold in one plant’s leaves. There was a heady scent to another, which seemed to conjure visions. One whiff and Aru saw corpses hanging