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

by Roshani Chokshi

The problem with growing up around highly dangerous things is that after a while you just get used to them.

A cursed lamp is a much more interesting topic than, say, a visit to the dentist. Although one could argue that both are cursed.

“Sometimes light illuminates things that are better left in the dark. Besides, you never know who is watching.”

The world has a tendency to trick people. It likes to make a day feel as bright and lazy as sun-warmed honey dripping down a jar as it waits until your guard is down…. And that’s when it strikes.

Between a demon that could end the world and a seventh-grade girl, Aru (and probably most people) would choose the demon any day.

“Because I shall have you know that whole cities revile me. They say my name like a curse.” “Is that a good thing?” “It’s a powerful thing,” sniffed the bird. “And between good and power, I will always choose the latter.”

Aru didn’t think this was particularly fair. Even famous people had been children at some point. Judges weren’t born wearing wigs and carrying gavels.

On the ninth day, the Sleeper will reach the Lord of Destruction, and Shiva will perform the dance to end all Time.” “Can’t the Lord of Destruction just say no thanks?” “You know nothing of the gods,” sniffed the pigeon.

You think you can quest alone? Questing requires families,”

Do I get powers? Or a cape?” “There shall be no capes.” “A hat?” “No.” “Theme song?” “Please stop.”

There was magic. Secrets crouched in the dark. Characters from stories, like the ones she’d been told all her life, were taking off their masks and saying, I was never a tale, but a truth.

“Sometimes the heroes in epics are assisted by eagle kings and clever monkey princes. But it’s been quite some time. The world is rusty at being dazzling, and so…here I am.”

“You’re Mini, she’s Aru. I’m exasperated. Salutations done? Okay. Off to the Otherworld now.” “Exasperated, how do we get there?” asked Mini. Boo blinked. “Let’s hope you inherited some talents, since irony evidently eluded you.” “I have an iron deficiency. Does that count?” offered Mini.

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

“Eat you?” repeated the creature, shocked. Its eyes widened. They reminded Aru of an insect’s eyes—strangely prismed, like a cluster of television screens. “You don’t look very edible. Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”

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

Mini whimpered. “This is where the Council meets?” “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.”

You must get the weapons first.” “By ourselves?” asked Mini. “You’ll have me,” said Boo primly. “Great. Because nothing says Come at me, demon like a pigeon sidekick,” said Aru.

“Wait. So, like, they’re just going to reach out from the heavens, weigh us, and say Yup, that seems like mine?” demanded Aru. “What about documentation?” shrieked Mini, her voice hitching with panic. “Is this like a conversation, or are there needles involved, like in a paternity test?”

Aru wasn’t sure she wanted the Dharma Raja to be her dad. Being known for being the wisest and most just? Way too much pressure.

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.

“Lord Indra and the Dharma Raja are…enigmatic,” he said. Mini frowned. “What’s that mean?” “I think it means they’ve got flaky skin,” said Aru. “You’re thinking of eczema.”

“Or,” squawked Boo, “it could mean that this time we need a different kind of hero.” “Heroine,” corrected Mini under her breath.

Maybe that’s why superheroes wore capes. Maybe they weren’t actually capes at all, but safety blankets, like the one Aru kept at the bottom of her bed and pulled up under her chin before she went to sleep. Maybe superheroes just tied their blankies around their necks so they’d have a little bit of comfort wherever they went. Because honestly? Saving the world was scary. No harm admitting that. (And she could have done with her blankie right about then.)

You’ll need three keys. But they are hidden, and need to be found. The first key is a sprig of youth. The second key is a bite of adulthood. And the third key is a sip of old age.” Aru stared at Urvashi. “Okay, so, which aisle of Home Depot do we go to?”

“Kill…us?” she squeaked. “He’s a demon, Mini,” said Aru. “What do you think he’s going to do? Sit you down for tea?”

Honestly, what was the point of being a demigod if this was all they got? The shiny weapons were half the appeal anyway! And where was her majestic steed? She’d feel a lot better if she at least had a cape.

I’ve always thought that women can see through illusions best.”

“Anything and everything can kill you, Mini! You don’t need to point it out all the time.” Mini straightened her shoulders. “My mother always says that knowledge is power. I’m just trying to make us more powerful.” “And my mother says that ignorance is bliss,” said Aru under her breath.

Just as water can go anywhere and reach anything, this pendant, when thrown, will be able to hit any target, no matter how far away. But be warned: regret will always follow. It is the price of aiming true. For sometimes, when we take the deadliest aim, we are nothing if not reckless.”

“Well, that’s not how the legendary Arjuna would have done it.” “I’m not Arjuna,” said Aru, lifting her chin. “I’m Aru.” Boo puffed out his chest. “I know.”

I think a book would make sense,” said Mini quietly. “They’re keys to lots of stuff.”

She may not have liked the books she’d had to read for school, but she’d loved the stories her mom had read aloud to her. Those tales had unlocked things that ordinary metal keys never could. A particularly good book had a way of opening new spaces in one’s mind. It even invited you to come back later and rummage through what you’d learned.

It was a different kind of pain when the hurt came not from a lie, but the truth.

“What kinda name is Sleeper?” asked Aru. “Are you just really good at napping?”

“You are testing my patience—” he hissed. “You slept in a lamp for a hundred years and that’s the best you could come up with?” shouted back Aru. “What a cliché. All you’re missing is the villain mustache.”

Aru was tired. Tired of lying. Tired of imagining the world as it could be and not as it was. She was tired of making herself bigger and better in her own head when it was clear that she never would or could be in her real life.

Imagination was neither good nor bad. It was a little bit of both. Just like her.

“What made Arjuna great wasn’t his strength or his valor, but the way he chose to see the world around him. He looked around, questioned, and doubted. You, too, are perceptive, Aru Shah. What you do with those perceptions is up to you.”

It wasn’t that she was particularly anxious to embark on a journey of near-certain doom, but there was always “just one more thing!” when it came to Indian aunties and uncles.

“It’s yours,” said Aru. “You’ve got the same soul as Yudhistira, and he was always known for being the wisest of all the brothers. That cookie has your name all over it. Plus, I don’t need more wisdom. I’d explode.”

Aru didn’t think it was possible to sympathize with a palace, and yet she did. Before now she had never thought about how a house must feel when its family stuck a FOR SALE sign on the lawn and then packed up and left. If the palace could be sad, did that mean her apartment missed her? Now she really wanted to run to the museum and hug a pillar.

“How fitting that I am called the Palace of Illusions when all I have left are memories. Perhaps memories are the grandest illusion of all,” said the palace quietly. And then, in a voice even softer and smaller: “In my memories, they seemed so happy with me.”

She didn’t even know how to use a bow. Did you string it? Notch it? Aru cursed. She should have paid more attention when she was watching Lord of the Rings last week. Maybe if she’d looked at how Legolas used a bow instead of, you know, just looking at Legolas, she would’ve been a little bit more prepared.

Finally, she slid the arrow into place. This shouldn’t be difficult. Katniss and Legolas made it look easy enough.

This was what escape was: discovering a part of herself that no one else could find.

“It is better, perhaps, to be thought of as a fiction than to be discarded from memory completely. If it is not too much to ask, would you think of me fondly every now and again?” The torches sputtered. “It makes a difference to me to know that every now and again I am remembered.”

Karma. That idea Aru just couldn’t wrap her head around. What goes around comes around and all that maybe-nonsense. Aru thought it seemed like a scaredy-cat thing to do: decide not to move on just because it was bound to be hard.

“There’s no uvula!” said Aru. Mini groaned. “Finding Nemo was a lie!” “Wait. You made a life-and-death choice based on Finding Nemo?” “Well, uh…” “MINI!” “I was just trying to help!”

“There were so many things I wanted to do!” moaned Mini. “I never even got to shave my legs.” “That’s your life’s biggest regret?”