“Kik ra koo!” The beast’s googly eyes rotated wildly. “Into my gizzard with you!”
“Wait a minute. Stop! That’s not fair. I got the right answer; it’s salt!”
The creature banged its club on the side of the cave, causing a small avalanche of stones. I ducked, covering my head with my hands.
“That’s not fair, that’s not right! I won’t let you go without a fight!” The officer stomped its foot. Its cheeks were now wet with enormous tears and gurgling noises came from its beak.
Before I had a chance to say anything else, the transit officer lay down on the ground, kicking its arms and legs.
“What will my supervisor say,” it wailed, “now that I’ve let you get away?”
It was having a monster of a tantrum. For a minute, I was tempted to give the giant rooster a time-out in its coop. Ma would have never stood for such bad behavior.
“If the princess gets me fired,” the officer shrieked, “who will feed these boys I’ve sired?”
“Shh! Stop crying so loud!” I urged, trying to edge by the flailing monster.
Just my luck, all this yelling was going to wake up his entire family of younger, stronger, monstrous offspring. And I really didn’t feel like getting divided up as an after-school snack among this guy’s nine hungry kids!
Waa hoo hoo!” the creature cried, its face on the ground. “Boo hoo kik ri goo!”
“It’s okay, don’t cry! Shh!” I whispered, scooching past the hiccuping and snotting transit officer. My heart was beating like crazy in my throat. Would I get away in time?
When I heard the sound of yawning coming from the cave, I stopped trying to be quiet and just flat-out ran as fast as I could.
“Cluck! Cluck! Clacket! What’s all the racket?” someone called. I didn’t wait to see if the officer would answer, but kept running until I was well out of sight of the transit corridor. I ran so fast my gym teachers would be very proud. Even Mr. Taylor, whom I had accidentally—and completely nonfatally!—injured once. I only stopped to catch my breath when I was sure I couldn’t hear giant monster chicken sounds cackling behind me anymore.
After a few minutes of no younger versions of the transit officer chasing me down, I finally let myself relax a little. I was safe. At least for now.
As barren as the previous landscape had been, I was shocked to see the change on the other side of the mountain. I was overlooking a lush valley intersected by several rivers whose source was a snowcapped peak in the far distance. Beyond that peak, I was pretty sure I could see a sparkling ocean dancing with the serene blue sky.
I was finally here, in the Kingdom Beyond Seven Oceans and Thirteen Rivers. Now, just to find the princes and get on with rescuing my parents. How much time did we have to get to them before the spell “expired”? I had no way of knowing.
Going up the mountain had been a hard scramble over sharp rocks. Now I ambled down a grassy slope. I took off my sweatshirt and tied it around my waist, enjoying the warm sun on my skin. My skin. I reached for my bandanna to tie it over my scar. But then I remembered I didn’t have one. I’d changed clothes at home before we’d left. Crap. I never went anywhere without long sleeves on, or else something to cover up the weird, U-shaped scar on my upper arm—like a strange, saggy pair of glasses. I felt relieved that I’d been wearing my sweatshirt during the trip from New Jersey, so Lal and Neel hadn’t seen my hideous blemishes all hanging out there in the open the whole time. Of course, Neel had already seen my arm scar once, and I’d be lucky if he ever forgot that awful sight. I’d have to find a scarf or something to tie over it before I found the brothers, or at least just put my hoodie back on.
It had been late fall on the other side of the mountain, but here it seemed to be spring. There were riots of blossoms on all the trees that gave the valley a festive air. A family of bottle-green dragonflies zoomed past my face, and fat bees feasted on the wildflower carpet beneath my feet. As I walked farther down, I realized there was another surprise waiting for me at the bottom of the valley. I was no longer alone!
A few yards in front of me was a marketplace. The bazaar was right next to a babbling stream from which I could see fish leaping out, their golden bodies catching and reflecting the sunlight. I crossed over a little bridge and onto the dusty main path through the center of the market. Off of it, countless little alleyways zigzagged this way and that.
The buildings lining the main street seemed to be built by the same architect as those ramshackle alleyways, because they zigzagged too. They were slapped together haphazardly, with the top floors at slight angles to the bottom floors, so that nothing exactly lined up. Entire rooms seemed to be added on as afterthoughts and stuck out like pimples from the upper stories of some buildings. A twisted little pink house leaned so heavily on the patched green one next door it seemed to be riding piggyback. Bright saris and other laundry waved at me from the flat rooftops. On one crooked clothesline, I saw rows of colorful bills, each clipped with a large clothespin, as if someone had just washed out his life’s savings. Everything looked odd and precarious. The entire place seemed to be thumbing its nose at any principles of sense or gravity.
Looking for the princes, I scanned the faces in the crowd, which were both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. Brown skin, black hair—it was a strange feeling to be around so many people who looked like me. Like I’d somehow come home to a place I never knew I belonged. But none of the faces belonged to Lal or Neel.
“Have you seen two brothers—one in red, one in blue?” I asked a rikshaw puller, who looked at me blankly.
“Ride? Ride? You want a ride?” the man asked.
I asked everyone I could as I made my way down the bustling street. Most people ignored me or just shook their heads and kept going. The crowd pushed me this way and that, and I had to shove my way through with my elbows sometimes. I walked past men with overloaded pushcarts, sleeping cows and water buffalos, footpath stalls selling everything from shoe polish to tooth powder to mountains of dizzying-scented flowers.
“For you, lady!” Someone dropped a thick white-and-pink garland around my neck. The scent was heady, the color of the pink flowers blinding.
“No, I don’t think so.” I returned the garland as politely as I could, then sneezed. The pollen count on these things was probably through the roof.
“You should learn to smell the flowers.” The merchant shook his finger at me.
The market was starting to feel less like a homecoming and more like an overload on all my senses. I hadn’t made it five steps before I was accosted again.
“Don’t diet—buy EZ Fit glass bangles!” a roly-poly lady in a polka-dot sari bellowed. She balanced a flat basket on her head. “Changes to fit your changing body!