“My what?” I asked, but we were in front of the throne by then and the Serpent King’s green eyes flashed.
“Silence!” he bellowed. I dropped Neel’s hand. Tuni cowered on my shoulder somewhere near my ear.
“I see you have met my son Naga,” the Serpent King hissed. “I am Sesha, King of the Serpents, guardian of the primordial ocean of divine nectar, keeper of time.”
My skin broke out in goose bumps. My mouth felt dry. This was my biological father, at last. The Serpent King had a human form: dark hair tinged with gray, shimmering green clothes, a crown made of serpent’s teeth, a handsome but cruel face. Was there any similarity there to mine? I searched but couldn’t see it.
“Welcome to the Palace of Desires,” the Serpent King hissed. Beside his writhing throne of snakes were urns of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. He ran his hands through these as he talked, letting the jewels fall back through his fingers. “Do you see anything that pleases you?”
His green eyes glowed in my direction, and I could feel their almost physical pull. Here he was, not five feet away. My father. And he wanted me back; he wanted me to join him. What was wrong with that? That was only natural, wasn’t it? I had a swimming, goofy sensation, like I was filled with the golden honey that Mati had been feeding the pakkhiraj horses. I felt the nectar swimming through my blood. My father wanted me back. And I would go.
I swayed, my eyes half hooded, as if in a trance.
Until I felt a sharp peck on my neck, that is.
“Princess, don’t look directly at him. Still your mind. Don’t believe the sweet lies he’s feeding you,” Tuntuni squawked.
“Silence!” the Serpent King snarled, waking me out of my trancelike state. I stared at the floor, my mind racing. I could still feel my father’s pull, though. Was it magic, something about his personality, or just our shared history? I couldn’t tell but I couldn’t trust myself to resist him either.
“If she is the one, it is fate that has brought her back to me.” I could feel more than see the Serpent King’s green eyes were boring into me. “She will be a valuable weapon in the coming war.”
“Yesss, Father,” Naga agreed in his multiple voices.
My heart was a mess of contradictions. I was afraid. I didn’t want to be turned into a snake, or a weapon, or to stay in this underground reptile zoo for a minute longer. On the other hand, it was hard not to feel the power of finding my birth father. Then, like a wave, the guilt washed over me. How could I be thinking of this monster as my father when my own dear Baba was still missing?
“She has my mark on her arm,” the Serpent King hissed, “but what makes you so sure she is the one?”
“Shhhe bearsss this mark alssso, Father!” The seven-headed serpent pushed me to my knees.
“Hey!” Neel protested.
The cobra’s tail pushed my head down, revealing the moon-shaped scar on the back of my neck. The Serpent King’s laugh boomed through the cavern.
“So, it’s true. You are the brat my queen hid away. And now you’ve come back—to steal from your poor old father?” His voice was mocking. I was pretty sure Sesha didn’t think he was either poor or old.
Neel helped me to my feet. My legs were like jelly.
“I am Kiranmala.” I held my head up, hoping the trembling in my lips wasn’t too obvious.
For a second, I thought the Serpent King smiled. But his expression remained cruel.
“And who are you, young rakkhosh?” he asked. “What do you want with my”—he paused—“filthy little offspring?”
“I’m, er, friends with your, erm, daughter. Uh, sir,” Neel stammered, sounding more like he was addressing a friend’s dad at after-school carpool than a mortal enemy. Maybe he was feeling the Serpent King’s strange power too.
“Silence!” Sesha shouted. “This puny imp is my blood? I can hardly believe it.” He sneered, his upper lip curling in an ugly way.
I was rooted to the spot. This was way more awful than I thought it would be. How could I ever have thought I might have anything in common with such a horrible father?
“Just like your mother,” he continued, “so soft and weak and moony.”
My throat constricted, but I pushed down the tears. Part of me refused to blubber in front of this monster. But truth be told, another part of me didn’t want to disappoint my father.
“You will thank me.” The Serpent King raised his arms above his head. “You will thank me for sparing you from a life of drudgery and giving birth to your inner glory!”
I hid my eyes. I could feel his green gaze boring into me again, and that pull, like some kind of a magical rope between us. Like he had shot me with an invisible arrow attached to a string and all he had to do was reel me in.
“Join me!” the King thundered, a blinding green light building between his hands.
“No!” Neel shouted, as if forcing himself to resist Sesha’s magic. “I kind of like her the way she is.” He pulled out his sword, which flashed in the light of the Serpent King’s glowing energy.
But Naga pushed Neel to the ground, looming and hissing above him.
“Stop!” I cried, reaching for my bow.
None of us noticed that Tuntuni had flown out of my arms while the King talked. Now he flew up, flapped his wings in Sesha’s face, and then snatched something out of Neel’s shirt pocket.
It was the shadow seller’s purple vial with the cork top.
“Tuntuni, wait …” Neel began. But with one swift gesture, the bird smashed the vial to bits at the feet of the Snake King. There was a tinkling of broken glass, but beyond that, nothing happened.
We all stared at the broken bottle like participants in a strange wax-museum tableau. The king, the bird, the prodigal daughter, the looming serpent, and his princely prey.
Sesha was the first to break out of the expectant trance.
“Ha!” The Serpent King’s moustache twitched as he laughed. “I haven’t been that amused in a long time!”
But then a thick gray smoke swirled out of the shattered glass. It wrapped itself like a never-ending sari around the throne room, circling the pillars, weaving through the furniture, threading its wispy form above and below the throne. It wrapped us, the snakes, everything in its expanding folds.
“Hang on, y’all, here it comes!” Tuntuni chirped.
“Here what comes?” I eyed the growing mist.
“Just don’t let go!” Neel grabbed me with one hand, the bird with his other.
An earthquake-like rumbling shook the teeth in my head. The snakes hissed and slithered around in panic. Then enormous roots shot out of every nook and cranny of the throne room, breaking right through the snake pillars and snake chandeliers, the snake tables and snake throne chair. From the roots, a sturdy trunk exploded like a rocket toward the sky.
“Father! The sssky isss falling!” Naga shrieked.
And it was. The banyan tree shadow, which had been trapped inside the purple bottle, was reconstituting itself now that it was free—like a dry sponge exposed to water. The mighty branches shot up and out, crashing through any obstacle before them. Pieces of stone ceiling plummeted down like giant pieces of hail, crushing snakes.
“This isn’t the last time you’ll see me!” The Serpent King waved his arms, and in a flash of green, he transformed himself into a hideous serpent with a hundred heads. His endlessly coiled tail vibrated with a primordial power. Already, the banyan tree was destroying the room. Now, with every rattle of his mystical tail, the entire cavern shook and spun. Cracks shot along the walls and floors. A huge one beneath the throne opened up, and the Serpent King and Naga disappeared through it.