The Serpent's Secret (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #1)(23)

Curiouser and curiouser. Did Neel really not want to be crown prince or did their father just not want his oldest son to inherit the throne? Why would that be? Had Neel done something really bad—or did their dad think he was just too arrogant to rule the kingdom?

“My poor brother. He can’t stand disappointing our father, but he can’t stand disappointing Mati either. He doesn’t get that you can’t please everyone all the time.”

“I don’t think it’s such a bad thing to be a nice guy.”

“That attitude’s going to get him hurt some day,” Neel snapped.

I tried a different tack. “Is your dad strict like that with you too?”

“You could say that.” Neel laughed—a harsh, unhappy sound. “You could also say that as far as our father’s concerned, I’m invisible.”

“Oh, come on,” I scoffed. “Not really?”

“Yeah, really. I might as well be a ghost.” Neel pointed at a nearby coconut tree. “Like the one who lives in that tree trunk.”

“Please, you’re trying to tell me there’s really a ghost that lives in that tree?”

“Usually. Unless she’s out trying to impersonate a human woman and sneak into a real family again. Don’t ghosts live in coconut trees in your dimension?”

“No!” I still wasn’t sure whether to believe him, but quickened my pace just in case, to put more distance between myself and the tall brown trunk. “Are you just trying to scare me?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, just lay off. I don’t scare easily.”

Neel snorted. “Good, ’cause I don’t roll with scaredy-cats.”

“Whatever. Could we go meet this minister guy now?”

Neel didn’t say anything else, but loped off, leaving me to dash after him. To my surprise, he didn’t head toward the palace, but toward the edge of the forest. I hurried to follow, and almost crashed right into him when he stopped. He stood under a guava tree whose branches were heavy with fruit.

“Tuni!” he called. “Oh, Tuni Bhai! Come on, Brother Tuni, show yourself!”

There was a twittering and a chirping from above our heads, and then something hard and fast pelted down at us.

“Ow.” I rubbed my head. Something solid had hit me. Something solid that hurt!

Thunk. Neel rubbed his head too. “Stop it, Tuntuni!”

An adorable yellow bird with a bright red beak danced on the branch above our heads.

“Yeaaaaah, boy! I got you good!” The bird chewed on a piece of bamboo that bobbed up and down in his beak like a cartoon cigar.



“Come on, Tuni, chill out,” Neel protested. “This is the princess—”

“From the other dimension!” the bird chirped. “You don’t gotta tell me! I can smell the ordinariness on her from a kilometer away! Pee-yew!”

“Please don’t tell me this rude bird is your father’s minister.” At this, the bird tossed a few more unripe guavas, which we managed to duck.

“Don’t take the act too seriously,” Neel muttered. “He likes to keep everybody thinking he’s a few crackers short of a packet.”

“Tuni doesn’t want a cracker!” the bird rhymed, spitting seeds. “Especially from a royal slacker!”

“Tuni, sir … um, do you know where my parents are?” I asked as politely as I could.

“And why should I tell an unimaginative 2-D like you?”

“Come on, Tuni, strike us a deal—how can we convince you to tell us what we want?” Neel wheedled.

The bird considered the offer. “Okay, slacker, why don’t you convince your royal father to arrest the barber?”

“I don’t think the cuckoo thing is an act,” I whispered.

“Nah, he’s just a big poser,” Neel said. Then louder, “Why should I do that?”

“When I had a thorn in my foot last week, that dratted barber wouldn’t come—he made me wait and wait. Said he had human customers who came first.” The bird spit more guava seeds. “The nerve!”

“I don’t think my father would arrest the barber for that,” Neel said.

“Well then, how about I ask the palace mouse to bite his royal potbelly?” Tuni suggested.

“Why would the mouse do that?”

“Well, what if I asked the castle cat to chase the mouse?”

This was getting silly. “Where are my parents?” I interrupted.

But Neel shushed me with a gesture. “And if the cat refused to chase the mouse?”

“Why then”—Tuni was gaining steam—“I’d ask the stick to beat the cat.”

“And if the stick refused to beat the cat?”

“Why then, I’d ask the fire to burn the stick.”

Neel was apparently enjoying the game. He picked up one of the hard guavas that the bird had thrown and began to toss it in the air. But I wondered if he was playacting too, because there was a muscle twitching suspiciously in the prince’s cheek.

“And if the fire refused to burn the stick?” Neel asked the bird.

“Why then, I’d ask the sea to drown the fire!”

I was getting the hang of it. “Okay, so if the sea refused to put out the fire?” I asked. Neel gave me a glimmer of a grin, and I was startled by how nice it felt to be on the same team for once.