The Chaos Curse (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #3) - Sayantani DasGupta Page 0,16

contact, I felt filled with energy and power. Even though I’d been frustrated with her before, now I felt myself glowing in her presence, as if from the inside out.

“Mother, I don’t know what’s going on with all these story threads getting tangled.” I pointed to the pile of glowing threads still at her feet, and the salad spinner still spitting out glowing string. “But I’ve come to ask you about something else—if you could make me a wormhole through the fabric of space-time to the other dimension.”

“Oh, is that all?” My moon mother’s laugh was tinkly and sweet. “Most daughters just ask for an after-school snack or a little allowance.”

“Or a cell phone,” I added, wondering for a second if Ma and Baba would finally let me have one if my moon mother gave it to me. “I know. But for now, the wormhole would be awesome.”

“But you have destroyed the magic auto rikshaw.” My moon mother pointed to the now-smashed-up vehicle. Then she looked thoughtfully at my frozen companions. “You’ll have to travel through the wormhole by tiger, I suppose.”

“By tiger?” I repeated.

“Well, you can’t well ride that tiny bird or lizard,” she said in an “isn’t that obvious?” sort of way.

I nodded, pretending I had the first idea of how I was going to convince Bunty to be my interdimensional ride. But I pressed on. There was something else I’d been worried about, and I hoped she had an answer.

“Mother, how do I find Lal? How do I figure out where the tree is in New Jersey that he’s hidden inside?”

My moon mother closed her eyes, intoning,

Your enemy’s enemy

Is your friend

Find your prince

Where the road bends

A tree between worlds

A serpent’s friend

Hate not love

Makes difference end

I dived into my backpack to grab a pen, then scribbled my moon mother’s rhyme on the inside of my arm. I knew from experience I’d probably need it later, and didn’t trust myself to remember it right.

As I did so, I noticed my mother peeking into my open pack. Her face suddenly changed, taking on the look of someone else entirely. I knew she was looking at the Chintamoni and Poroshmoni Stones at the bottom of my bag when she whispered, in a hoarse, old-man-type voice, “Are those the star stones? You must keep them secret! Keep them safe!”

I put the pen in my pack and shut it again. “Why? Are they dangerous?

“Dangerous, yes,” said my mother, looking more like herself again. “But also perhaps very useful.” She touched her finger to the side of her nose in a secretive gesture.

I nodded, tapping the side of my nose too. “I’ll remember.”

I took a look at the poem I’d scribbled on my arm. I was stuck on the first lines. My enemy’s enemy, and then that part about the tree where the road bends … wait a minute.

“Lal’s in the tree in front of Jovi’s house?” I asked, not wanting to believe it. My middle school frenemy Jovi Berger had the house next to mine, where our road bent. And she did have a great big tree in her yard. Could it be possible? Could Lal really be in it? Or was this another story swap?

“Mother, what’s happening with all the stories? Why do they keep getting mixed up?”

“Such a strange kitchen appliance.” My moon mother looked at the wildly spinning salad spinner. “Usually that’s a spinning wheel spinning out story threads …” she murmured, becoming all vague and distant again.

“Mother!” I demanded, feeling my old frustration returning. I thought back to her poem. “What’s going on, with these stories, with the chaos and the serpents?”

As usual, she didn’t answer me directly. “Sesha’s Anti-Chaos Committee is growing more powerful, but I never thought they would resort to g-force-generating kitchen gadgets. This is, perhaps, worse than I thought.” Her light started to flicker. “Thank goodness I am no longer married to your father, so he cannot tap into my power. The multiverse help any woman who chooses to marry that scoundrel.”

With every word, she grew more transparent, like she was fading away.

“Sesha’s Anti-Chaos Committee?” That glowy, delirious feeling when I’d first come into my moon mother’s presence was almost entirely gone now. I wanted to scream, shake her, demand she be more real. Why did she always disappear, right when we had just connected? She was like vapor, so hard to hold on to. “How do we stop whatever they’re doing?”

My moon mother didn’t answer but raised her head, as if hearing something from