he five of them were transported back to Mr. V’s office in the blink of an eye. The god of architects was standing behind his mahogany desk, his four hands splayed on the surface, his four heads craned forward, and his four sets of eyes wide open.

Aru held the key close to her chest, and as she did, it seemed to squirm not just in her hands, but also in her heart. A long-buried memory wormed through her thoughts, conjuring her sixth-grade semiformal dance. It was a big deal at her school. She’d been so excited to go, and her mom had even let her borrow one of her real gold bangles. But it had opened with a father-daughter dance, and Aru had panicked. She couldn’t stand the idea of leaning against the wall, clutching her cup of fruit punch, while her lack of a father shone on her like a spotlight. The moment the dance started, she pretended to slip and sprain her ankle. One of the teachers had driven her home in silence while Aru fought back tears the whole way. If she’d had a dad, would he have danced with her? Or at least driven her there and back, lecturing about boys the way dads did in movies?

You do have a father, whispered a voice in her head.

And he’d gone looking for the Tree of Wishes, just like she was about to do.

Aru abruptly dropped the key. Instantly, all those thoughts and feelings were sucked back into their usual hiding places, and her pulse slowed to normal. She made no move to pick it back up.

The sound of the key hitting the floor seemed to bring Vishwakarma back to himself. His eight eyes roved from the key to the Pandavas’ faces, and he crossed his four arms, a shrewdness sneaking into his gaze.

“What do you want with such a key, Pandavas?” asked Head One.

All five of them burst out at the same time.

Rudy pointed at his own face and said, “Prince, not Pandava.”

Brynne said, “I invoke architect-client confidentiality before I say anything to you!”

Aiden grumbled, “Technically, I’m not a Pandava—”

Mini cautiously said, “I’m not sure we should disclose that information. Sorry…”

But the key had unlocked something new and terrible within Aru: honesty.

“To save the Otherworld,” she said. “We only have five days.”

The rest of them fell silent as Vishwakarma’s eyes snapped to her. He seemed to look both past her and into her.

“The key is a very dangerous thing to use for that purpose,” said Head One.

“I think we know how to open a door,” retorted Brynne, but she cowered when the four heads swiveled in her direction.

“This is a living key, child,” said Head One. “Living things cannot help but be curious, to demand answers. There is a cost to opening doors that are meant to stay closed. Some have paid the price quite dearly.”

Aru shivered, remembering the key sparking her thoughts and feelings like someone had flashed a light into her brain’s dark corners.

“Are you going to tell the devas that we came here?” asked Brynne.

Mr. V regarded them silently for a moment before Head Three finally said, “No. I am a builder of grandeur, not an agent of destruction—”

“Well, then maybe you could build something grand for us—” started Aru.

“Do you think you are so clever?” asked Head Four in a rasping voice. “Perhaps you believe you are the only ones who’ve ever sought to change their fate? Foolish children! I’ve made this commission before….”

He waved his four hands and his view of the city skylines disappeared, replaced with a murky image of a young man victoriously holding up a golden key. Its glow illuminated his unusually colored eyes—one blue and one brown.

Aru’s heart twisted in recognition. It was him.

When Mr. V’s window returned to normal, Aru realized that Brynne and Mini had drawn closer to her. Mini’s shoulder touched hers; Brynne laid a hand on her arm. But as much as Aru wanted to draw strength from them, she couldn’t. At her throat, her mother’s pendant felt ice-cold against her skin.

“The Sleeper was here,” said Aru.

“He used the key, child,” said Head One.

“What did it unlock in him?” she forced herself to ask.

Head One hesitated before answering. His gaze became distant then, and a strange pearlescent sheen covered his eyes. “You shall find out, Pandavas. He unlocked as much of himself as he dared to in his pursuit, and the pieces still remain.”

Pieces? Aru felt her stomach churn uncomfortably. What did that mean? It reminded her of what her mother had said in the museum….

He came home an entirely different person, like something was missing from him.

“Are you saying the Sleeper left behind Horcruxes?” Aru demanded.

“Yeah, I didn’t sign up for a Horcrux hunt,” said Rudy, looking around for the exit.

Mini held out Dee Dee, blocking his way.

“I am merely saying there are pieces to find should you follow this path,” said Mr. V.

The key floated off the floor and transformed into a snake that coiled around Aru’s wrist, resting its silver head against her pulse. She couldn’t shake it off, even though she tried.

“It’s taken a liking to you, Aru Shah,” said Head One. “And that means that for its first use, only you may wield it.”

“But I—”

Mr. V slid a blue velvet pouch across the desk. “This will keep it from moving around. Now go. You’ve earned the key, but it may not bring what you desire.”

Aru took the bag and loosened its drawstring. Immediately, the key slid off her arm and toppled into the pouch. Aru hastily balled the whole thing up and shoved it into the bottom of her backpack. She felt the key’s phantom presence and imagined she could hear it purring contentedly. She wanted to feel a rush of accomplishment, of excitement, but all she felt was fear.

That thing had read little bits and pieces of her. What else would this quest demand? Would it cut slices from her, return her home an entirely different person? And what did it mean that the Sleeper had lost pieces of himself on his search for the wish-granting tree?

Sheela’s voice rose from beneath all those thoughts.

There’s lots more to find.