The Serpent's Secret (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #1)(30)

“I don’t want to be king!” Neel yelled. “Do you think the people would accept a king who is a half demon? A king with a mother like you?”

The Rakkhoshi Queen clutched her stomach. “Aiii! Aii!” she cried. She shook a long taloned finger at me. “May you have children this ungrateful, my little Luna Bar, so you know the intestinal agony that only your progeny can give you.”

The demoness turned a shade of clover green. “That ridiculous, show-offy boy! That Little Prince Fauntleroy!” she moaned, belching clouds of acidic red smoke. “That prissy-shissy girl! So noble in her poverty! So sickeningly honorable!”

Ew. What was going on?

The rakkhoshi began to make disgusting, retching sounds. “I knew I should not have swallowed without chewing,” she moaned. “Oh, the gaseous indigestibility of youth! Oh, the digestive agony of their sugary friendship!”

She was going to lose her lunch. I raised my hands to my face. This was going to be gross. Way grosser than the corn-dog-vomiting incident.

But then the Queen did something that topped the bizarre-o-meter. As if her mere existence wasn’t bizarre enough. She stretched her mouth so wide that me, Neel, and the whole stable could have fit into it. And what I saw in that eternal blackness, I don’t think I can ever forget.

Because there, in the Demon Queen’s open mouth, were spinning—could it be?—suns, planets, moons: a whole series of solar systems.

No. Barometric. Way.

This was heavy stuff.

Something Shady Sadie the Science Lady once said on TV came rushing into my head. It was about a brand-new discovery that some astronomers had made: a monster at the center of the galaxy. It wasn’t really a monster, she’d explained, but some kind of super-huge black hole they discovered with powerful telescopes. Apparently, it was so hungry it gobbled up planets, stars, anything in its way. But the monster was greedy, and it couldn’t digest everything it took in. Instead, like a fire hose being aimed at a soda can, half the stuff it tried to inhale came shooting back out of it. It proved, Sadie explained, that black holes didn’t just consume and destroy energy, they created it as well.

Which is why I wasn’t as surprised as I could have been when the Demon Queen vomited out two enormous spheres—like little planets, really. One was deep gold and the other a glowing silver.

“Drat! Dread! Demonic doo-doo!” the rakkhoshi shrieked.

Whoa. Holy public television station. Was Neel’s mom the monster at the center of the Milky Way? What was it Lal said about rakkhosh being black holes—spells that had gone beyond their expiration dates?

The demoness was still clutching her stomach when she vanished again in a flash of blinding light. “This isn’t over, you good-for-nothings, you lazy loafers. You can count on it!”

Her voice and the smell of her belches lingered, but she was gone.

“What the … ?” Neel stared at the gold and silver balls, and let out a big sniff.

I walked up to the objects. They weren’t really little planets, I guess, more about the size of bowling balls. Had I imagined what I saw in her mouth? Had it been some kind of a psychedelic dream?

There was a faint red light emanating from the golden sphere, and the silver one smelled like—what was it? Fresh cotton and honey.

“It’s them!” I realized. “It’s Lal and Mati!”

At the sound of their names, the spheres began to vibrate and hum. The gold one even rolled a little, bumping against Neel’s foot.

“Serves us right for relying on Nosferatu,” Neel muttered, swiping at his eye.

“Huh?”

“The original Dracula,” he explained, almost to himself. “Lal and I love that movie. Not like that idiotic teenage vampire—sparkling skin! Not drinking human blood! How ridiculous!”

He was talking about one of my favorite books-turned-movies, but I decided to let the comment go without protest. Neel was upset, after all.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said in my most soothing, come-down-from-the-ledge-you-nutter voice. His brother had just been turned into a bowling ball, and he was debating the relative merits of different vampire movies?

“No, I’m serious,” Neel insisted. “Vampires. Like—‘I vant to suck your blood’?”

“Yes, I’m familiar with ‘I vant to suck your blood.’”

“That’s where we got the idea of an enchantment that would banish my mother’s physical form from our kingdom unless someone specifically invited her in.”

Oh, that was what all that permission getting was about. In those old movies, vampires couldn’t enter someone’s house unless they had an invitation. Something I myself had given the rakkhoshi.

To quote the demoness herself: Drat. Dread. Demonic doo-doo.

But something still didn’t make sense. “How did she get inside in the first place, to change identities with Danavi?”

“She must have ridden in on the mist or in the vapor of a storm cloud.” Neel rubbed his eyes. “But she couldn’t take on her physical form until you gave her permission.”

It was all my fault.

“Neel, I’m so sorry …”

“I should have known better.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.”

“About what?” I felt so bad for inviting the rakkhoshi into the kingdom, I didn’t even realize that Neel blamed me for something else.