Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes (Pandava Quartet #3) - Roshani Chokshi Page 0,96

way she imagined it should be…where you’re held close and the music is the humming of hearts and—

“Okaaaaay, gonna reel you back in now,” said a voice.

Aru blinked to find that she had her arms lifted as if she were dancing a waltz. Brynne gently brought them back down to her sides.

Rudy was laughing. Mini was shaking her head in pity. And Aiden? He was staring at her. The plants beneath him cooed in sleep, and the yalis had reclaimed their spaces against the wall and gone still.

“Next time, just set me on fire,” Aru whispered to Brynne, her face flaming.

“I told you not to look when he does his apsara thing.”

Aru scowled.

“How come you didn’t do that earlier?” Mini asked Aiden.

“I didn’t want Nikita’s plant to fall asleep.”

“Oh.”

Unfortunately for Aru’s wounded dignity, that made sense. At the other end of the nursery table, Nikita gently lowered her now-slumbering plant back into the earth. When she looked up, a huge grin split her face.

“I got it,” she whispered.

“Where’s the tree?” asked Brynne.

“The Atlanta Botanical Garden,” said Nikita. “It’s the only place in the mortal world that has direct access to something called the Botanical Pavilion of Lost Cities? Kinda like the Otherworld, but with more plants.”

“What?” said Aru. “It’s been there all this time?”

Aru had been to the Atlanta Botanical Garden often. Around Christmastime, her mom would take her to see the holiday lights show, where the whole garden got dressed up in shimmering colors and the air smelled like cocoa and cider.

She’d seen all the exhibits, and there was no way a ginormous wish-granting tree was hiding in one of them. How would that even work? Statistically, there had to have been one visitor who offhandedly said, I wish I had some ice cream right now, only to have a huge vat of it land on their head. Wouldn’t someone report that? Or maybe they thought it was so awesome they didn’t want to share the news, and kept it to themselves….

That’s totally what she would’ve done.

“Let’s go!” said Brynne, but Rudy stood frozen, still stunned. He flailed a hand at Aiden.

“You can sing?” asked Rudy, awed.

“Sometimes,” said Aiden cagily.

“Wait, with my music and your voice—”

Aiden winced. “Please don’t—”

“We—”

“No.”

“Should start—”

“Rudy. No.”

“A BAND.”

Who Is Groot?

The five Potatoes and Nikita—who refused to let the others call her a Potato—climbed out of a Lyft and stood outside the entrance to the Atlanta Botanical Garden. The gardens weren’t open yet, and there were no other people around. Even the cars ambled by sleepily, no one honking or rolling down the window to ask what the six kids were up to so early in the morning.

Everything about the gardens looked familiar to Aru. She recognized the wide bronze entrance gates, the scent of cut grass and distant roses, the wide banners proclaiming the exhibits that lay inside.

What she did not recognize was the smaller gate, just to the right of the official entrance, hidden in the shade of a myrtle tree and positively radiating with magic.

Aru waved her hand across it, feeling the air warp around her skin as the smaller gate’s enchantments pushed back at her.

“Okay, I was wrong,” said Aru. “Maybe this place really is hiding the wishing tree.”

“Told ya so,” chirped Nikita brightly.

“So how do we get in?” asked Brynne.

“I really don’t want to use that key again,” said Aru.

“Me neither,” said Aiden.

“Weird,” Rudy said, poking the asphalt on the street. “You don’t use crushed stars in your pavement?”

“Rudy, please get back on the sidewalk,” said Mini.

“I’m exploring!”

“You’ll be roadkill,” said Brynne.

“It has a sort of decrepit charm to it,” said Rudy. “I’ll buy two streets. Who do I pay? Hello?”

Everyone ignored him as Nikita walked right up to the tree next to the silver gate and knocked on the bark twice.

“Knock-knock,” said Aru jokingly.

“Who’s out there?” came a voice from inside the tree.

Aru jerked back. Even though she now knew that plants could speak, she hadn’t expected the tree to respond to a knock-knock joke.

Especially not with a deep Southern twang.

Nikita lifted her chin. “We are the—”

Aru waved her hands, mouthing, Don’t say our names!

As much as possible, they had to keep their mission secret.

“Y’all have to give me a name if you wish to enter the Botanical Pavilion of Lost Cities,” said the tree, annoyed.

“Potatoes?” tried Mini.

“Y’all are obviously not taters. But if you are, bless your hearts.”

“First compliment I’ve gotten all week,” said Aru.

“If I don’t have me a name in the next five seconds, I am shutting—”

“No!”