Aru Shah and the End of Time (Pandava Quartet #1)(18)

Her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. She was floating, haloed by light. At that moment she had the most absurd desire to do two things:

Sing the “Circle of Life” song from The Lion King.

Throw up.



Being dangled by an unseen force? Yep, no thanks. But then she looked around and realized the arrows had vanished. Also, the statues had changed positions. Before, she had been leaning against the god of the winds. But now it was Indra, the god of thunder, who looked down at her. His face was still made of stone. But his expression had changed from indifferent to…amused. As if he had just realized who Aru was.

His daughter.

She, Aru Shah, was the daughter of Indra, king of the heavens.





The Three Keys


Many Hindus don’t eat beef. Just like how some of Aru’s Jewish and Muslim classmates didn’t eat pork. Every time it was hamburger day at school, she would have to get the overly chewy portobello mushroom thing that looked (and probably tasted) like dinosaur hide. Her classmates would look at her pityingly.

“That sucks. Hamburgers are the best,” someone would say. “You’re missing out.”

Aru disagreed. Pizza was the best. Besides, how could she be missing out on something she’d never had?

Maybe it was like that with fathers. She and her mom were just fine by themselves, thanks for asking.

Then again, a father is not a hamburger. A hamburger was something you could choose not to have….

Aru had never had a choice when it came to not having a dad.

When she thought about it for too long, she got furious. How could her dad have left them? Aru considered herself fairly awesome. (Granted, she was a little biased.) And her mom…her mom was beautiful and brilliant and elegant. But she was also sad. Maybe if her dad was around, her mom would be happier. The fact that someone had dared to make her mom miserable only made Aru angrier.

But now that she was staring at the truth, she felt, well, struck by lightning. Which just seemed ironic now. She’d never had a hint that Indra could be her dad…or had she?

Aru had always loved thunderstorms. Sometimes when she had nightmares, a thunder and lightning storm would rise up out of nowhere, illuminating the sky like a lullaby created just for her.

Was that because of Indra?

But if Indra was her dad, that made Aru a reincarnation of Arjuna. The greatest warrior. She wasn’t anything like him.

Arjuna was good and honorable and perfect. Almost, Aru thought, to the point of excess. Her mother had once told her a story about how Arjuna was so honorable that he agreed to a twelve-year exile in the forest just to keep his word.

Like lots of ancient rulers, the kings of India had more than one wife. But it was a lot more unusual for a wife to have more than one husband. And yet that was the case in the tale of Draupadi, the virtuous and beautiful princess who married all five Pandava brothers. She spent a year as the wife of each. That made more sense to Aru than the alternative.

Imagine walking in your front door, calling out, Honey, are you home? and hearing:

Yes, dear!

Yes, dear!

Yes, dear!

Yes, dear!

Yes, dear!

But it was a rule among the five brothers that you couldn’t barge in on Draupadi’s privacy when she was with her husband-of-the-year. One day, Arjuna was called to fight off a bunch of demons. He had to answer the call, because that’s what heroes do. The only problem was, he’d left his special bow and arrow in the dining room where Princess Draupadi was eating with one of his brothers. The penalty for barging in on their privacy was exile. Rather than let innocent people get hurt by demons, Arjuna chose to break the rule.

And that’s why he had to go into the forest for twelve years.

Aru hated that story. The exile was completely unnecessary. His brother and Draupadi even forgave Arjuna when he explained that he just had to get his bow and arrow. And why did he even go into the dining room? He could’ve just knocked on the door and shouted, Bro, I left my bow and arrow. Could you hand ’em to me? It’d be like asking a friend to pass you some toilet paper under the stall if you’re in a pinch.

But Arjuna didn’t do that. Supposedly, this was a good thing. To Aru, it was just a bad use of time.

Aru stared up at the statue. She might not be anything like Arjuna, but maybe having the king of the heavens as your dad wasn’t a bad thing when you’ve accidentally triggered the end of the world….

Around her, the net of lightning vanished. In its place floated a golden orb no bigger than a Ping-Pong ball. Curious, she plucked it out of the air and turned it over in her hands. The heck is this? But it was right about then she heard Mini let out a sob.

Aru turned to see Mini sitting on a cloud, clutching her backpack to her chest. The statue of the Dharma Raja had moved and now loomed above her. The danda stick had been thrown from his hand, shattering the arrows headed toward Mini.

“Death?” she whispered. “I’m the Daughter of Death?”

In all honesty, Aru thought that sounded pretty cool. Imagine walking into a party and announcing, I AM THE DAUGHTER OF DEATH. You would almost certainly be guaranteed the first slice of cake. Plus, that would be the only appropriate time to use the brattiest phrase ever: Wait till my father hears about this.

But Mini’s eyes welled with tears. “This ruins everything! I thought I’d be the daughter of one of the Ashvin twins! The daughter of the god of medicine! What medical school is going to accept me if I’m the Daughter of Death?” She rocked back and forth, crying.