The Chaos Curse (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #3) - Sayantani DasGupta Page 0,10

in front of me, just inches from the auto rikshaw’s wheels, had fallen an ancient woman as wrinkled as an old leather shoe.

“Oh, no, no, no! The tiger will for sure get me now!” wheezed the old lady, clutching the end of her white sari around her head.

I rushed out to help the woman. “Are you all right, Grandmother?” I helped her get unsteadily to her feet. She was tiny, and frail, with skin like paper and bony hands that I was afraid to squeeze too hard for fear of hurting them. I peered at her, wondering if she was my moon mother in disguise or something, but the next thing she said made me think that couldn’t be true.

“One month ago, I was heading to my daughter’s house, all skin and bones, when a vicious tiger threatened to eat me,” the woman said. Her glasses were covered with pumpkin goo, and she lisped a little, because she didn’t have all her teeth. “I convinced him to wait until I had eaten well and gotten all fattened up, but he promised to be waiting for me on the trail home.”

“So to hide you from him, your daughter put you in a hollowed-out gourd and sent you tumbling!” I said, the pieces clicking in my brain. “I know this story!”

My baba had told me it a million times, like he did all his stories from the Kingdom Beyond. This wasn’t my moon mother at all, then, but an old woman from a well-loved folktale!

Just as I thought this, though, something even stranger happened. Something stranger than finding an old woman rolling home in a pumpkin gourd. Like what had happened with Neel before, a bright blue butterfly landed on the granny—this time on her nose. And in the next second, the grandmother’s image flickered like she was on a faulty television screen. When my vision corrected, no longer was she an old gray-haired woman afraid of a tiger, but the tiger itself!

The animal gave a rumbling roar, showing a glimpse of its shining teeth. I jumped about a foot in the air in my scramble to get away from it.

“Oh, my rotten tail feathers! If that’s the tiger, then we’re the old woman about to get eaten!” Tuntuni shrieked, flying quickly back into the auto. “Get in, Princess! Start the engine now!”

I stumbled into the driver’s seat, pressing down on the start with a panicky finger. Even though the engine turned over and over with a screeching noise, it didn’t catch.

The tiger was huge, sleekly muscled, with stringy pumpkin innards mixing into its orange-and-black-striped fur, and bits of rind trapped in its whiskers and wide jaw. It studied us with its dark, hungry eyes. Then it gave an earsplitting roar.

“We’re gonna die!” wailed Tuntuni, throwing his yellow wings around my neck. This time, I didn’t actually think he was wrong. “I’m too pretty to croak in a tiger’s digestive tract!”

Hurry up!” yelled Tuni, jumping with all his weight on the start button. “Unless you want your baba to tell the story about a princess and a bird who got eaten by a pumpkin-spiced tiger!”

When Tiktiki One click-clacked its tongue, Tuni added, “Okay, fine, a princess, bird, and lizard eaten by a pumpkin-spiced tiger!”

“Stop that! You’re not helping!” My hands were shaking as I tried to get the little bird to stop pressing on the starter. “I think you flooded the engine!”

Tuntuni kept shouting useless instructions, though, and the lizard kept clickety-clacking. That is, until the tiger roared again.

“Stop your superfluous shrieking!” shouted the tiger, white teeth flashing in the sun.

At that, Tuntuni and I shrieked at the top of our lungs, and even Tiktiki One clattered so loud it was clear the little lizard was terrified. Both animals hid behind my back as I now began pushing on the start button with frantic fingers.

“You’re undoubtedly flooding your fuel injector!” roared the tiger.

“Leave us alone!” I yelled in a total panic. “I swear we won’t taste very good!”

“I’m such a little bird, just feathers and bones, really!” shouted Tuni from behind me. “Hardly any meat! But the lizard here, he’s delicious on a skewer I bet! With a little lime and salt! And the princess—just look at all that juicy muscle! She’d be great breaded and fried probably! Or maybe with a little jhinge posto!”

I turned around in the seat to stare at the bird, and saw that Tiktiki One’s buggy eyes were swiveled around in outrage too. “You traitor!” I shrieked,