The Chaos Curse (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #3) - Sayantani DasGupta Page 0,39

for the jacket and a little flustered. I remembered once, last fall, when I’d worn Neel’s jacket just like this. But somehow, the two situations felt really different. Neel’s coat had felt warm and smelled like soap and clean-boy smells. Ned’s jacket smelled like antiseptic or medicine.

“Anyway …” I tried to get my brain back on track. “Ned, how do you know about my friend being captured by a ghost and stuck in a tree?”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” Ned said. “For now, you better get on the eagle already before someone finds us out here and makes us go back to class. Girls, you can go make our excuses to the attendance office.”

For who knows what reason, the thought of getting on the giant eagle alone with Ned was a little uncomfortable. Thank goodness, though, Zuzu and Jovi weren’t having any of it.

“Um, I don’t think so. (A) Don’t call us ‘girls’—what are you, our weird uncle? And two, we’re not letting you go anywhere alone with her!” Jovi snapped. “I know she says you didn’t hurt her, but I don’t see anyone else out here, and I see her hurt. So it’s a little hard not to jump to conclusions.”

“As Principal Chen would say, you’re on probation,” added Zuzu, making a V from two fingers, pointing to her own eyes and then at Ned’s. “We’ve got our eyes on you.”

And so, I found myself on the back of a giant eagle holding on to the waist of a way-too-good-looking blond boy who was clearly something more than just a way-too-good-looking blond boy. Behind me on the eagle were Zuzu and Jovi, their fencing swords in hand, and Tiktiki One still perched on Jovi’s shoulders. For two totally normal girls from the Jersey burbs, Zuzu and Jovi were accepting the weirdness of the situation—i.e., the flying giant eagle and whatnot—with remarkable calmness. I wondered how they’d take the knowledge that our principal was really a Greek Gorgon. Well, I’d have to cross that bridge when we came to it.

As the eagle took off, away from Alexander Hamilton Middle School and toward Jovi’s and my neighborhood, I gave a little whoop. No matter how many times I did it—on a flying pakkhiraj horse, in a magic auto rikshaw, or on the back of a giant otherworldly bird—I would never get over it. I loved the magical feeling of soaring high in the sky.

I pumped my fist in the air and shouted the slogan from the story about the three musketeers: “All for one and one for all!”

Ned kind of looked skeptically over his shoulder at me, but Jovi and Zuzu laughed, echoing, “All for one and one for all!”

“The all is one!” cheered Ned. His words, so like Sesha’s, gave me the creeps. All the stuff I’d recently learned about the beginning of the universe, and chaos, and the demon who saw all and controlled all was swimming around in my brain, but like pieces of a giant table puzzle, I couldn’t see how everything fit together just yet.

But there was no time to dwell on this, because we were soon landing at the base of the giant tree in Jovi’s front yard. I glanced to my own house and saw the lights were off. My parents must still be at their boring accounting office jobs. That was a relief, at least.

“Nobody home at my house either.” Jovi pointed to her own darkened house. Her mom, Dr. Berger, was our neighborhood dentist, so I’m sure she was busy filling somebody’s cavities.

“Okay, so let’s take a look at this tree,” I said, dismounting and walking toward the giant ash. “Lal? Lal, can you hear me?” I called, knocking on the trunk. There was no answer.

“That’s strange. I’ve played under this tree my entire life, and I never noticed that.” Jovi touched a knot in the giant trunk that looked weirdly like a door handle, and then promptly gave a little shriek. The moment she had put her hand upon the big bump, an arched doorway appeared around the knot.

“Whoa, this is some fairy-tale-level stuff happening here,” Zuzu said, approaching the tree with her sword raised.

The snow crunched under our feet, and our breath made frosty designs in the air. Our suburban street was lifeless and gray on this February midmorning. Something about all this wasn’t feeling right. Quick as a wink, I whispered a message again in the gecko’s ear and pulled off its already regrown tail. It scampered up