“Yeah, if you lived in India…Otherwise you’d just be a hamburger.”
The smile dropped off Mini’s face. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Aru was just about to say Mooooooo when her foot slipped.
Water skidded beneath her heel. Her arms pinwheeled. Seconds later, she was flat on the ground, her nose an inch away from a face in the water.
Not hers.
Her mother’s.
The Pool of the Past
Secrets are curious things. They are flimsy and easily broken. For this reason, they prefer to remain hidden.
A fact, on the other hand, is strong and powerful. It’s proven. Unlike a secret, it’s out there for everyone to see and know. And that can make it more terrifying than even the deepest, darkest secret.
In the pool, Aru saw a secret break and become a fact.
Secret: The Sleeper did know her mother.
Fact: He didn’t just know her.
For instance, Aru “knew” their mail carrier. He always acted like he understood her, just because he had changed his name to Krishna Blue at the age of seventeen. He was always listening to slightly eerie Indian music in his earbuds, and he was constantly telling her that her “aura wasn’t vibrant enough” and she should drink more tea. She also “knew” P. Doggy, the poodle she walked during the summer. He liked to steal her sneakers and bury peanut butter sandwiches. But that wasn’t the way the Sleeper knew her mom.
When Aru looked into the pool, she saw a memory of her mother—a much younger version—walking hand in hand with the Sleeper. They were strolling along the banks of a river, laughing. And occasionally stopping to…kiss.
The Sleeper hadn’t just known her mother…he’d loved her. And she had loved him. In the memory, her mom was actually laughing and smiling, way more than she ever had with Aru. She tried not to be offended, but it was hard not to be. Who was this version of her mom? Aru leaned hungrily into the water, the tip of her nose almost grazing the surface.
The images changed…revealing her mom standing at the doorstop of a house Aru had never seen. There was her mother, Dr. Krithika Shah, thrumming her stomach. Aru was used to seeing her dressed like a shabby professor, in a blazer with scuffed elbows and a worn skirt with the hem coming undone. In this vision, she was wearing a black velvet salwar kameez. Her hair was done up in fanciful curls, and she wore a brilliant tiara.
The door opened, and an older man looked shocked at the sight of her.
“Krithika,” he breathed. “You’re early for the Diwali celebrations, my child. The other sisters are inside waiting for you.” When she didn’t step inside, his eyes went to her midsection. “Has it…has it happened?”
“Yes,” she said. Her voice sounded cold and wooden.
It took Aru an extra moment to guess what was in her mother’s womb.
Her.
“He’s not who you said he was,” she said, through tears. “And I can’t let this happen. You know as well as I do that the moment the child comes of age, Suyodhana is destined to become…to become…”
“The Sleeper,” finished the old man. “I know, daughter.”
“There has to be some other way! He is aware of his own prophecy and believes he won’t lose himself to it. She could have a father. We could be a family.” Her voice broke on the last word. “He can change his fate. I know it.”
“No one can change their fate.”
“Then what would you have me do, Father?”
Aru gasped. That was her grandfather. According to her mother, he had died when Aru was too young to remember him.
He shrugged. “You must choose. Your child, or your lover.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You will,” said her father. “You’ve already done your duty and stolen his heart. I assume he has told you the secret of how he might be defeated?”
Krithika looked away. “He told me out of trust. I would never betray it. I believe that the world could be different. I believe that our destinies aren’t chains around our necks, but wings that give us flight.”
Her father laughed gently. “Believe what you will. You’re a young woman, Krithika. Young, lovely, and smart. All I ask is that you don’t throw away your life.”
At this, Krithika’s eyes turned sharp. “Is it throwing away my life to do what I think is right?”
Her father stopped laughing. “If you insist on taking this path, you will jeopardize your family. You will defeat the purpose of the panchakanyas.”
“I believe we have more of a purpose than just breeding,” she whispered.
Her father’s face puckered. “And you will never be allowed to set foot inside this home again.”
At this, Aru’s mother flinched, but she still raised her chin. “It stopped being a home to me a long time ago.”
“Then on your own head be it,” said her father, slamming the door in her face.
The vision fast-forwarded. Her mother was wearing a hospital gown and cradling a baby: Aru. Slouched in a chair beside her was the Sleeper. He was wearing a T-shirt that said I’M A DAD! Across his lap lay a bouquet of flowers. Krithika watched him as he slept, looking between him and Aru.
Then she lifted her head toward the ceiling. “I love you both,” she whispered. “One day I hope you’ll understand that I’m doing what I must to free you. To free us all.”
The setting changed to the museum. It wasn’t as it looked now. The statues were different, except for the stone elephant, which had yet to be moved to the lobby. Everything was sparkling and new. A small sign on the door read: OPENING SOON TO THE PUBLIC! THE MUSEUM OF ANCIENT INDIAN ART AND CULTURE!
Krithika walked through the Hall of the Gods. White cloths covered all the statues, so it looked like a room filled with poorly dressed ghosts. In her hands, she carried something small and glowing. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She stopped at the end of the hall, where the diya awaited. “I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry. I never wanted this to happen. But know that I used your secrets not to destroy you, but to hold you. I bind you with my heart, the same heart that I gave to you willingly. I bind you with something that is not made of metal, wood, or stone. I bind you with something that is neither dry nor wet.”
She dropped the glowing thing—little more than a wispy ribbon—and Aru realized that it was the Sleeper she had just trapped in the lamp. Light burst and haloed around the antique before quickly fading away.
“I was supposed to destroy you, but I couldn’t. But I couldn’t risk Aru’s safety, either,” Krithika went on. “I’ll find an answer. I’ll examine every ancient site, read every treatise. And I will find a way to free both you and Aru. I promise.”
Mini yanked Aru and she drew back, sputtering and spitting. She sat up.
Mini clapped her on the back, hard. “Speak to me, Aru! If you’re dead, tell me! Just talk!”
Aru thought she was going to hack out her ribs, but finally she was able to take a deep breath.
“I’m alive,” she croaked.
“Oh, good,” said Mini. “I was going to do CPR.”
“You know how to do that?”
“Um, not really, but it looks pretty easy on TV.”
“Glad I dodged that one,” said Aru, laughing weakly.
She stared back at the pool. So much new information was racing through her head. Her mother had been the one to bind the Sleeper. And not because she hated him, but because she couldn’t bring herself to kill him.
Did he know that?
Aru didn’t think so, given that he’d called her mom a liar. Not that she blamed him. Being locked up with nothing and no one for eleven years had to be rough.
“Really, Mom?” she muttered. “You had to pick the demon dude?”
“I saw it all, too. The Sleeper was almost your home dad,” said Mini, pretending to gag.
Aru blinked. She remembered what the Sleeper had said to her in the Library: You and I might as well be family.
“Why couldn’t your mom have dated a nice doctor instead?”
“Why does it always have to be a doctor?”