“Why have you come here?” snarled a voice in the dimness.
Aru, who had been lost in thought and staring at her own feet, looked up suddenly. At first, she couldn’t see the speaker. The room was vast enough to hold a dozen elephants, and its walls seemed to expand and contract, as if it were breathing.
Unlike the rest of the apsara wellness center, this place had an ancient look and feel to it. The floor was dark wood, scratched and dimpled by furniture and footpaths. The back wall, more than a hundred feet away, was shrouded with fog. In the gloom Aru could make out what she thought were large chairs with sheets thrown over them. The wall on the right moved closer, until it was a dozen feet from Aru, and on it she saw a faded tapestry where twelve apsaras performed an intricate dance to the accompaniment of the celestial musicians, including one at the forefront who had the head of a horse.
“I said, why have you come here?”
There was a whoosh above their heads. Aru looked up just in time to see a woman descend from the ceiling. Her outfit was simple enough—a white linen shift with matching pants and a flowing dupatta that hung from her elbows—but on the apsara, it looked worthy of royalty.
The word beautiful wasn’t adequate to describe Menaka. Her shiny black hair cascaded to her ankles. She had a long, regal nose and full red lips, proud cheekbones, and dark brown skin. The color of her eyes, Aru noticed, was identical to Aiden’s—like the surface of the ocean beneath moonlight. Although Menaka had to be way older than his mom, not a single wrinkle marred her skin.
“That’s your grandmother?” asked Brynne, her jaw dropping a bit.
“Not by choice,” said Aiden.
Menaka huffed. She flicked her wrist and a throne from the back of the room shot forward, catching her as she sank into it.
“That you dislike me comes as no surprise,” said Menaka, looking not at Aiden but somewhere beyond him. “Which begs the question, why are you here? Why did you use the note of music? It was intended for your mother alone.”
Her voice was deep, as if weighed down by something. It didn’t match her youthful appearance. But it was lovely nevertheless.
Aiden stiffened, and his fingers nervously tapped his camera strap. “Maybe she thought you wouldn’t answer,” said Aiden coldly. “You never did before.”
“She knows why I did not,” said Menaka. “When I heard the note, I thought…” She shook her head. “Never mind. It was clever of her to give you that.”
“You asked why I came,” said Aiden, stepping forward. “My friends and I are in need of your blessing.”
“For what? Beauty? Fame?” asked Menaka, tilting her head. “As the child of Malini, you already have the potential for both. Not even your human father’s mediocrity can change that. Or are you to be the exception among apsara descendants?”
Aiden’s grip on his camera strap turned white-knuckled. His mouth pinched to a thin line as if he was holding himself back.
Jeez. Grandma is really going in for the kill, said Aru through the mind link.
Makes sense, said Brynne. Aiden said she was the worst.
“What we need is a blessing of musical talent,” said Aiden.
“Why?” asked Menaka quietly. “From what I gather, you already possess quite the voice. Just like her.”
Aiden’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “How would you know that?”
Menaka’s face turned cold and expressionless. “Answer me. Do not tell me you have come here on some whim—”
“Not whim,” said Brynne, stepping up and putting her hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “War.”
Still Menaka kept her eyes averted. “There is always a war.”
“Not like this one,” said Aiden.
“This time, the fate of the gods hangs in the balance,” said Brynne. “If the Sleeper gets the nectar of immortality, he will take all its power for himself.” She slapped her palm with Gogo, emphasizing every word. “He’ll destroy the world. We’re fighting on the side of the gods. You have to help us.”
Aiden winced, and Aru immediately realized that was a bad choice of words.
“Have to?” repeated Menaka in a poisonous voice. Her hair slowly billowed around her shoulders as she gradually rose off her throne, still in a seated position. “I do not have to do anything. We apsaras no longer do the gods’ bidding. We fought for our own choices, and no one can take them from us.”
Brynne scowled. “But we—”
“I am not addressing you, mortal child,” said Menaka, turning her chin. “You are no one to me.”
Brynne looked infuriated. “I am a—”
Don’t! warned Aru. We’re supposed be undercover!
But it didn’t matter.
“Trust me, I already know, and I do not care,” said Menaka, waving her hand. “A reincarnated Pandava, yes? Those flimsy camouflage petals won’t work on me. Judging by the look of you, it appears Bhima’s temper was inseparable from his soul. Congratulations.”
Brynne glared directly at Aru, wanting her to share in the outrage, but Aru’s thoughts were being pulled in another direction. Menaka’s name had stirred something in her memories. Aru kept thinking about those golden doors and their engravings of apsaras performing for the gods and occasionally descending to earth to “distract” mortal sages.
Brynne looked as if she was going to say something else when Aiden put out his hand and stepped in front of her.
You know this is not our fight, said Aru.
Brynne responded with a mental growl.
“Just give us the blessing and we’ll go,” said Aiden. “We’ll never have to see each other again.”
Menaka didn’t look at him when she spoke. Instead, her gaze was fixed on the wall tapestry, which had once more moved farther away. “I could do that with ease, but it is not going to happen.”
“Why not?” demanded Aiden. “It’s the least you can do. You haven’t given me or my mom anything else.”
“Your mother did not tell you how it works, did she?”
“How what works?” asked Aiden.
Menaka laughed. “In order for an apsara to grant you a blessing, you must approach with at least a drop of love and understanding in your heart. You must harbor no ill will, or the blessing will go awry. Look at you. You cannot manage that.”
“Look at me? You haven’t looked at me once,” said Aiden heatedly. “Is it because I’m only half apsara? Is that it?”
Slowly, Menaka turned her eyes in his direction. Aru saw that they shone with tears. “Is that what you have thought this whole time?”
“What other reason could there be?” demanded Aiden. “You wouldn’t see my mom even when she needed you.”
“It was not possible,” said Menaka, growing agitated. “Malini understood what she was doing when she left our realm to marry the mortal and give up her celestial essence. It was her choice.”
“Choice?” said Aiden. For the first time, his skin started to glow. “That wasn’t a choice! That was an ultimatum!”
His feet rose off the ground and his glow turned brighter, sharper. Aru winced and turned her head to avoid looking at Aiden directly. In front of them, Menaka levitated even higher off her throne. Her apsara glow bathed the room in light. The tapestry on the wall rippled and changed. In the new image, Aru saw an apsara who looked like Menaka fleeing from a sage who had flung out his hand. Menaka was carrying a baby in her arms.