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

by Roshani Chokshi

And right in front of her was a…giant turtle?

“I hope you don’t have a bee allergy. I only have one EpiPen. But I guess we could share? I’ll stab you, you stab me?”

“Wait, so, we need weapons to protect our weapons from becoming…weapons.”

“May all the doors you face in life swing open and never smack you in the butt as they close!”

“They gather on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and during full moons and new moons, and also for the season premiere and finale of Game of Thrones.”

It was like some horrible nightmare where she was walking the red carpet of a fancy movie premiere in an aluminum-foil hat and rubber-duckie rain boots,

“Great. Because nothing says Come at me, demon like a pigeon sidekick,”

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.

Imagine walking into a party and announcing, I AM THE DAUGHTER OF DEATH.

“Scary kingdom, sleepy weapons, weird pool, got it.

Mini started beating the hand with the sprig of youth and shouting, “I”—smack—“do”—smack—“not”—smack—“like”—smack—“you!”

“Poets are so dramatic,” said Boo.

Mini reached for a small pebble on the ground. “Um, Mini…?” And then she hurled it straight at the gigantic cauldron full of poison, hollering, “For science!!!”

“It’s fine. This is fine. Everything is fine,”