ru stared around at the soft, rolling mountains cloaked in gray.

“Okay, where the heck are we?” she asked.

Brynne raised a finger to the air. “We’re 35.6532 degrees north and 83.5070 degrees west.”

Rudy stared at her. “What?”

“We’re in Tennessee,” said Brynne. “Or more precisely, Great Smoky Mountains National Park.”

Aiden plopped down on a fallen tree branch. “At least the lighting is great.” He took out his camera and snapped some photos.

“Aren’t there bears in Tennessee?” asked Mini, holding Dee Dee close.

“Of course not,” said Aru. There definitely are, she thought privately.

Aiden caught her eye, raising an eyebrow, and Aru made a shh-ing gesture.

“Okay, good,” said Mini. “My inhaler is almost out of juice, this mountain air is really thin, and I could become acutely hypoxic and—”

“Die?” asked Brynne, Aiden, and Aru at the same time.

Mini looked highly affronted. “It’s not a joke! I could lose consciousness, which is really serious!”

“The big thing we’re losing is time,” said Brynne. “We’re down to three days to find Kalpavriksha, the vault was a bust, and we’re trapped in the mountains with no camping supplies—”

Aiden reached into his backpack and pulled out a coin. He flipped it onto the ground, and three tents sprouted up immediately.

Brynne scowled. “Okay, well, definitely no food—”

Aiden dug out five protein bars and tossed them in front of the tents.

Rudy stared at him. “Dude, what is in that bag?”

“Precautionary stuff,” said Aiden simply. “And an ice pack for your nose.”

Aru gratefully placed the cold bag on her nose and then shivered. “Any chance there’s a campfire in one of those pockets?”

“Allow me,” said Brynne. She whispered something to her mace, and warm flames flickered out from the top. “Courtesy of Uncle Agni.”

Last year, Agni, the god of fire, had given each of them a present after they’d cured his awful stomachache. Except for Aru. She got an “IO(F)U” and the promise that when she needed it, he’d have weapons ready for her.

“The whole crypt mission was totally pointless,” groaned Brynne. “All we got was that bird thing. Where’d the wishing tree go?”

Rudy pulled out the wooden eagle, and its soft, broken tune floated through the air. Aru saw the bright bead caught in its beak. The longer she stared at it, the more she remembered the ache that had taken root in her heart the moment she’d placed the key in the vault door. Her father’s voice rang in her ears: You don’t understand—I have a daughter on the way….

Aru turned to Rudy and held out her hand. “Can I see that?”

The bird was the size of a tennis ball, and it struggled in her grasp like a living thing. Whoever had crafted it had done a beautiful job. The pale wood feathered out like real wings, and its lacquered eyes gleamed. Its small chest rose and fell as it chirped out the same hoarse tune.

“Sounds broken,” said Rudy.

Aru agreed that something about the tune seemed off. “What if it’s trying to say something, though? Like a message, or a riddle,” she said. “There has to be a reason the fake tree in Nandana sent us to that crypt.”

Plus, she still wondered whether the jewel in its beak held a part of her father. How else could she have seen one of his memories? She gripped the bird tightly, but no vision came forth. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed.

“Sadly, none of us speak bird,” said Brynne.

“I hate birds,” said Rudy. “Smell weird. Beady eyes. And they hate snakes. In fact—”

But Mini cut him off. “Hey, Brynne, would you be able to understand it if you turned into a bird?”

“Whenever I’ve shape-shifted, I’ve never understood the animal’s language,” said Brynne.

“But did you ever try?” asked Aru.

“Well, no, not exactly…”

“Shah has a point,” said Aiden. “Give it a try, Bee.”

“Ooh, can you turn yourself into something extinct?” asked Aru. “Like a dodo bird?”

“Or an emu!” said Mini.

“Emus aren’t extinct,” said Brynne.

“Platypus?” asked Aru.

“Is a platypus even a bird?” asked Brynne.

“Actually, it’s a semiaquatic egg-laying mammal that’s similar to the echidna,” said Aiden, fussing with his camera. “They’ve got venomous ankle spurs.”

Rudy wrinkled his nose. “What kind of terrible animals exist in the human world?”

The girls ignored him and stared at Aiden.

“What?” Aiden asked. “I like nature documentaries. The cinematography is unparalleled.”

“Snob,” said Aru.

“Troll,” said Aiden, not even bothering to look up at her. But Aru noticed that a corner of his mouth lifted. Almost like a smile.

Brynne sighed. With a snap of her fingers, she transformed into a scowling swan with cobalt-blue feathers. Rudy held up the bird to her, and Swan-Brynne craned her neck around it. A second later, she changed back.

“Still can’t speak bird,” she declared.

Just then, an idea struck Aru.

“But Boo does!” she said. “I once saw him arguing with a falcon in Atlanta! I think it was during the Super Bowl….”

“If he’s with the twins, maybe they can bring him a message? We could send it in a dream,” Mini suggested.

Aru nodded, then ran her thumb along the bird’s wing. What are you trying to tell us? she wondered. Her thumb brushed aside one of its wooden plumes, and underneath, a dark curly symbol caught her eye.

“There’s a weird marking on this bird,” she said. “It looks like the letter G.”

“G?” repeated Rudy. He sat up straight, panic in his eyes. “Is he around?”

“Who is he?”

“Uh, the king of the birds? Sworn enemy of all snakes?” he said, swiveling his head. “Garuda?”

“You think he knows where the wish-granting tree went?” asked Aru.

“He might, but I’m not sticking around to find out. That guy hates my whole family.”

“I’m sure you did nothing to deserve it,” said Brynne drily. “And speaking of deserve, once we figure out where we’re going next, I’m not so sure you should come with us.”

Rudy’s expression crumpled. “Look, I’m sorry. But I can help—”

Brynne’s voice was gentle but firm. “I know it’s not your fault, but you still landed us in that yali pit.”

In the bird’s beak, the small gemstone glimmered, calling to Aru once more. With a pang, she remembered that she’d never explained her role in how they’d fallen into the pit. She couldn’t let Rudy take all the blame.

“He didn’t,” said Aru quietly.

The others turned to look at her.

Aru took a deep breath. “I saw something when I was trying to get the bird. A vision of the Sleeper. I think it came from the gem thing in its beak—I don’t know. I got startled, and I lost my grip.”

Rudy took the bird from her and gently pulled open the bird’s beak. It paused in its tune to squawk indignantly as Rudy plucked the jewel from its mouth.

“This isn’t an ordinary jewel,” he said. “It’s a receptacle for thoughts, emotions, memories…. I’ve seen stuff like this before, in my dad’s collection. This must’ve been what Mr. V was talking about! He said so himself, remember? That the Sleeper lost pieces of his soul or something when he went looking for the tree? In fact, I think if I—” Rudy pressed down hard on the jewel.

“NO!” yelled Aru.

But it was too late.

Something like a hologram emerged from the jewel, rendering an eerie sequence of scenes in front of them.

They saw a young boy in a market, his face turned away as he stared after a young child walking off hand in hand with her two parents laughing and smiling beside her. Someone grabbed the boy’s arm impatiently. “There you are! Come. It’s time to return home.”

The boy responded in a small voice: “The orphanage isn’t home. Homes have families.”

Whoever stood beside him laughed. “It’s the only home you’ll ever have.”

The vision jumped ahead, showing the young boy studying hard, building inventions, reading books. In every image, his face was hidden.

And then the projection changed to show the boy grown up—a man in his early twenties standing before a council of five elder Otherworld Council members. His dark hair flopped in front of his face, and when he pushed it back, Aru could see his eyes: one blue, one brown. It was him. The Sleeper. Only he was so young. He wore a dark polo with four red letters embroidered on the chest: OFCS. Aru recognized that acronym. It stood for the Otherworld Foster Care System, the same system that had taken in Sheela and Nikita.

“Ah, Suyodhana,” said a dark-skinned man, who leaned forward, steepling his taloned fingers. “You are perhaps the youngest and most accomplished member ever to seek permission to pursue a higher education in the magical arts. It’s tradition that every student wishing to pursue such studies takes on the burden of a quest. Yours was simple: show us the strongest substance in the world. And yet you have arrived empty-handed.”

The elders looked at each other, exchanging smirks.

Suyodhana smiled. “I have certainly fulfilled my quest, but before I show you the results, perhaps we can share a toast? I am honored to have even been given this opportunity to prove myself.”

He snapped his fingers and five golden goblets floated before the elders. The drink must’ve smelled delicious, because all five Council members sighed deeply.

“To our dreams,” said Suyodhana, lifting his own goblet. “May they never turn to nightmares.”

The members drank, and then the eldest one wiped his mouth and said, “And as for your quest?”

Suyodhana pointed at each of the goblets. “Every single one of those was filled with a rare poison for which there is no antidote.”

At once, the members paled. They scrambled to their feet, clutching their throats. One of them fell to the floor with a loud crash and started thrashing about and yelling, “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” Another fainted dead away. All the while Suyodhana watched without emotion.

“What’s the meaning of this?” gasped the elder. “How dare you!”

“How dare I what?” asked Suyodhana. “How dare I lie?”

They all paused.

The person who had been yelling about how he couldn’t breathe suddenly sat up. He pointed a shaky finger at Suyodhana. “So you poisoned us and then magically administered an antidote?”

“No.”

“Then explain why I am suddenly able to breathe!” said the man.

Suyodhana shrugged. “Because I never poisoned you. But you believed I did. And that, dear members, is the strongest substance in the world: belief.”

The vision jumped ahead once more.

The Sleeper was older, with faint lines framing his eyes. When he pushed the hair away from his face, Aru saw a wedding band. In his other hand, he held a wriggling key that looked just like the one Mr. V had given them. Aru recognized the floor covered with scales, the dimly lit hall. The Sleeper was in the Crypt of Eclipses.

He closed his eyes and twisted the ring around his finger. “I know the prophecy concerning me,” he said in a choked voice. “I wish to avoid it completely. Please! You don’t understand—I have a daughter on the way. I can’t let her inherit a world I am destined to destroy. Tell me what I must do. Please, tell me—I’ll pay any price.”

Tendrils of shadow appeared and wrapped around his hand; then they wound up his arm and plunged into his chest. He gasped in pain as the shadows seemed to tug something out.

“Childhood memories? Is that all?” he asked weakly. “I can bear it.”

And with that, the vault door opened before him and light spilled onto the floor.

The vision faded. And once it was gone, Aru realized there were tears streaming down her cheeks. When Mr. V had said that the key had unlocked pieces of the Sleeper, she didn’t think she’d actually have to see it happen.

“Does this mean I can stay?” asked Rudy, holding up the little blue jewel. But then he must have noticed that Aru was crying. “What’s the big deal, Shah? I mean, it’s kinda sad and all for the Sleeper, but imagine being his daughter. That would—”

Aiden elbowed Rudy in the ribs, and a look of understanding crossed the naga’s face. “Oh…” he muttered.

“Gimme a sec,” said Aru, walking down the hill to be alone.

She didn’t know what to think or how to feel after seeing the vision.

I’ll do anything.

Dimly, she remembered the twins’ nightmares. The way their mother had screamed at them not to follow her, the tears in her eyes as she choked out, I would do anything not to leave you.

Aru felt a flash of fury. The twins had gotten to experience that love, at least for a little while. They’d gotten to see it in action. But not Aru.

If her father had never become the Sleeper, her life would have been so different. Full of smiles and laughter. And love.

What had happened? Why had he failed at changing his fate? And how could her mother have locked him away when all he’d done was try to fix things?

What if the same thing happened to her? The prophecy mentioned an untrue sister…. Could it be her, even though she had no intention of betraying anyone? All Aru wanted to do was save the Otherworld, save her friends and family…. But what if she still somehow ended up the villain? Opal’s taunting words flew back to her: The flesh-and-blood daughter of the Sleeper.

Maybe evil ran in her blood…. Like father, like daughter…

“Aru?”

She spun around and saw Brynne, Mini, and Aiden walking toward her.

“Talk to us,” said Mini.

“I’m fine—” started Aru, but her voice cracked, and she stood there shaking.

Mini went to her first, wrapping her arms around Aru in a tight hug before stepping away to search her face.

“I get it, you know,” said Brynne softly.

Aru looked up. Brynne’s arms were crossed and she was staring at the ground.

“It’s really tough to see the mom or dad you should’ve had,” she said. “Gunky and Funky used to tell me how nice Anila once was. I don’t know why she couldn’t be that way for me.” Brynne fiddled with her stack of melted-down-trophy bracelets, her mouth a grim line. “For a while, I thought it was because I wasn’t good enough, or that it was somehow my fault…but now I know that’s not it.”

A lump rose in Aru’s throat. That was exactly how she’d felt. As if the mere act of being born had somehow caused all this to happen.

“This isn’t about you, Shah,” said Aiden firmly. “And maybe you thought you lost someone great, but you don’t know how he would’ve been as a dad. People change. Trust me.”

Aru forced herself to nod. Maybe he was right. She’d never know.

“But the prophecy…” she said. “And Opal—”

“Forget Opal,” said Mini, throwing up her hands. “She doesn’t know everything! And just because what you saw back there made you upset, that doesn’t mean you’re sympathizing with the enemy and going to go rogue on us.”

Aru gaped at her. “How’d you know—?”

“Because we’re sisters,” said Mini, squeezing her arm.

Brynne looped her arm through Aru’s. “Now c’mon. We’ve got a tree to find and some sleep to catch, and I found everything we need for making s’mores in Aiden’s bag.”

“Good job, Wifey,” said Aru.

Aiden rolled his eyes.

But he still smiled.

In her dreams that night, Aru found that she, Brynne, and Mini were once more in the twins’ astral realm. It wasn’t a nightmare like last time. But it wasn’t exactly happy, either. The twins stood on a worn stage inside an abandoned theater. Glittering cobwebs hung from chandeliers made of hard candy. It was a dream, and so things were just standard weird—ten jellyfish bobbed in the air, patterned in purple polka dots. A stingray moved overhead, the underside of its wings plastered with sheet music.

Sheela ran to greet them, throwing her arms around Mini, who had clearly become her favorite.

Brynne awkwardly patted Sheela on the head, whispering to Aru, “Is this what you do with children?”

“She’s a human, not a puppy,” said Mini.

Nikita stood off to the side, wearing a silk turban and a velvet dress on which clouds slowly gusted across the fabric.

Aru walked over to her.

“How’d you like the outfits?” asked Nikita brusquely.

Aru grinned. “They were—”

“Fabulous? I know,” said Nikita, waving a hand. “Don’t tell me more. I don’t need to be bored with the details of my genius.”

Aru smirked. Before, she would’ve found Nikita rude and annoying, but she understood her a little better now.

Nikita must’ve found Aru’s silence unnerving, because she crossed her arms, pouting. “Don’t think just because you saw our nightmare that we’re going to be close or something,” she said. “We can take care of ourselves.”

“I know.”

“We’re used to people leaving,” said Nikita.

Aru’s voice softened. “I know.”

“Good,” added the scowling ten-year-old.

Aru nodded, then looked up at the dream chandeliers. “Trust me, I’d love to be rid of you, but you’re pretty useful. The outfits were amazing and probably saved our lives. Plus, I kinda like the novelty of having baby sisters.”

“I’m not a baby!”

“That’s what babies say.”

Nikita scowled. “I don’t like you, Shah.”

“Now you sound like family!”

A smile pulled at Nikita’s face, but then Sheela suddenly screamed.

“No!”

Aru and Nikita whirled around to find Sheela sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth. Her eyes glowed, and tears streamed down her face. Mini grabbed her shoulders, trying to help her up, but Sheela wouldn’t move.

“He’s making a terrible mistake….” Sheela turned her unfocused gaze on Aru. “And you will hate him for his love.”

Aru jolted awake to sounds of commotion outside the tent, which was suddenly empty. She pulled on a sweater and trudged into the cold night. Rudy, Aiden, Brynne, and Mini already stood in their campsite, looking up at the sky. And they weren’t alone. Thousands of birds filled the trees around them.

The wooden eagle, lying on its side between the two tents, called out its strange riddling tune.

“Remember how the eagle has the letter G on it?” Aiden asked her.

“Yeah…”

“It does stand for Garuda.”

The king of the birds? Aru frowned. “How do you know?”

Aiden pointed up at the stars, and Vajra sparkled with panic.

“Because,” said Aiden, “he’s decided to pay us a visit.”