aruda, king of the birds, flew toward them. Aru hadn’t met very many kings. She had, however, seen advertisements for pro wrestling matches, and this was starting to look like one. She and her friends might have been standing in the middle of a ring for all that was happening around them.

The surrounding trees bent and groaned under the weight of thousands of birds cawing and screeching from the branches like an audience thirsting for a fight. Maybe it had something to do with being in Garuda’s vicinity, but Aru found she could understand everything the birds were saying…and it wasn’t exactly polite.

“Eat them, my king!” shouted a jackdaw in the branches.

A blue jay with a southern accent hollered, “I brought some Tabasco sauce to share with y’all!”

A small chickadee the length of Aru’s pinky chirped in a sweet, high-pitched voice, “SHOW THEM A FRESHLY WASHED WINDOW AND HAVE THEM RUN INTO IT A HUNDRED TIMES.” Then it cackled hysterically.

Aru was starting to regret every time she’d filled up the bird feeder.

Something sailed out of the trees toward them. Brynne held out her mace. Mini cast a shield. Aiden pulled out his scimitars. And Rudy…well, at least he had the mechanized eagle between his hands. Aru aimed Vajra as a spear, on the verge of letting it loose….

Bam!

An object fell to the ground, tendrils of smoke writhing from it.

It was…

“Toast?” asked Aru.

Aiden inspected the smoldering loaf of bread. “Well, it is now.”

“How would you like empty carbs thrown at your head?!” shouted a duck. “Some of us don’t like that processed nonsense!”

“Some of us are gluten intolerant!” honked a goose.

“Why don’t you featherless noodles ever give us things that don’t taste like cardboard?” huffed an owl.

From the trees, the birds began to chant:

“NO MORE BREAD!”

“NO MORE BREAD!”

“NO MORE BREAD!”

Aru turned to her friends, but they were just as bewildered as she was.

A gust whooshed past them. Aru shielded her eyes with the inside of her elbow, squinting as dirt and twigs rose in a tiny storm. She had never stood next to a helicopter, but she imagined it was kind of like this. In the midst of that powerful wind, a figure landed in front of them. The force of his touchdown sent a tremor through the earth.

Aru lowered her arm when the gust died down. She knew Garuda from the statues her mom had on display in the museum. Aside from the fact that he wasn’t made of sandstone, the real king looked a lot like those sculptures. His eyes were a handsome shade of amber, and human-shaped, but his face was covered in brilliant green feathers, and he had a sharp golden beak instead of a nose. Bronze wings nearly seven feet long lay folded behind his shoulders; their tips brushed the grass. From the neck down, he looked like a strong man with tanned skin, except that his hands and feet ended in sharp bird-of-prey talons. Garuda had a wide-brimmed solid-gold baseball cap over his dark curly hair, and wore long silk shorts covered in trophy badges. On his shoulder, a shiny black raven cawed loudly, and the bird chant stopped.

“You know him as Khagesvara!” shouted the raven. “King of the birds!”

The birds cheered. The Pandavas drew a little closer. Rudy tugged his hood over his face.

“You know him as Suparna!” squawked the raven. “He who has beeeeee-ooootiful feathers!”

At this, Garuda nodded, acknowledging the crowd for the first time. He shook out his wings, vast enough that Aru and her friends ducked instinctively to avoid getting thwacked in the face. His feathers shone brightly, Aru thought, like the glint of a knife’s blade.

“You know him as Nagantaka!” said the raven. “THE DEVOURER! It’s the one, the only…GAAAARUDA!”

The king turned in a slow circle, arms up and muscles flexed. The birds cheered so hard, a fine layer of feathers drifted down to cover the forest floor.

“And what do we have here?” asked the raven, its beady eyes fixed on Rudy.

“Can I leave?” he mumbled to the Pandava crew. “This is not going to end well for me.”

“Is that a…? No!” said the raven, hopping onto Garuda’s head. It cocked its head to the side. “It’s a snake!”

The birds honked and screeched in displeasure.

“I’m not a snake!” said Rudy, puffing out his chest. “I’m a—”

Aiden smacked his palm over his cousin’s mouth. “Not the time, dude.”

“Ooh, I know I see me a snake!” the raven hooted with delight. “We hate snakes!”

Garuda nodded, scowling.

“Leathery ropes with faces,” the raven said with a shudder, before turning its attention to the Pandavas. “And some demigods. Aww, that’s cute. Folks, let’s give ’em a round of indifferent applause. Congrats, kids! You’ve got some shiny weapons! I like shiny. But none of those can even scratch our king! Ask Indra. He tried with that same lightning bolt.”

In response, Vajra gave an electrical shiver of displeasure.

“We have no desire to scratch Garuda—” started Mini.

“Who put glasses on top of this pair of living toothpicks?” cackled the raven.

Mini flushed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. At the same time, Aru and Brynne lifted their weapons.

“I’m surprised you’ve got so much to say,” said Aru. “Shouldn’t you be squawking from some old guy’s fireplace?”

“Yeah. Come back when it’s Halloween!” chimed in Brynne.

The raven froze. The birds fell silent. Slowly, the raven turned to her. “What did you say to me?”

“Go haunt a poet!” snapped Aru.

“Or do you not do that anymore?” asked Brynne.

“I think you mean nevermore,” said Aiden.

“THAT’S IT!” screeched the raven.

It launched itself off Garuda’s head, but the king of the birds caught him one-handed. He narrowed his amber eyes at the bird before putting it on his shoulder. The raven huffed, its feathers settling. Silent as ever, Garuda crossed his arms, his gaze falling to the mechanized eagle in Rudy’s grip.

The raven sighed and declared, “You are hereby charged with the theft of a precious object on loan from King Garuda to the goddess Aranyani. Following a thorough investigation of the crypt, it was found that four to five persons escaped after freeing the bound yalis. His Majesty, King Garuda, was able to track the stolen object to the whereabouts of the thieves.” The raven coughed, then leaned forward. “That means you.”

“You don’t understand—” started Brynne, but Aiden held her back.

“Furthermore, the fact that said stolen property was found in the hands of none other than a descendant of Garuda’s most vile aunt, Kadru—”

From the branches, the birds hissed. Garuda’s scowl merely deepened.

Aru swiveled around to face Rudy. “Garuda’s aunt?” she asked. “You guys are related?”

“I mean, yeah, but she’s literally my least-favorite relative,” mumbled Rudy. “She pinches my cheeks all the time—I hate it.”

“Confirms the treachery and wrongdoing of all persons present,” concluded the raven. “And finally, not only did you steal the property of Garuda, you broke it. You robbed it of its voice.”

“We didn’t know it belonged to anyone!” protested Aru. “And it was broken already!”

“Pah!” spat the raven. “You broke it because you knew it could tell the truth!”

Tell the truth? So it was a clue, Aru thought.

Rudy turned the bird over in his hands, understanding dawning on his face.

Aru felt frantic. The one thing that could save them was broken, and they had no idea how to fix it.

“Therefore, you shall be…”

The raven flailed his wing at the branches, and hundreds of birds hollered, “EXECUTED!”

They cheered and whooped, and Garuda himself clapped and nodded. Aru took a step back. Vajra began to shift and spark with electricity.

“That’s not fair!” Mini said. She stepped forward, holding up Dee Dee like a scepter. Behind her, Rudy’s eyebrows shot up. “You can’t just execute us because Rudy is a naga—”

“Prince,” whispered Rudy. Then he looked at them innocently. “What? It’s the truth.”

“He’s never done anything to you,” Mini said to Garuda.

“It’s true.” Rudy nodded.

“He can barely defend himself,” continued Mini.

“Very true,” said Brynne.

Rudy opened his mouth to protest. Aiden reached over and closed it.

“How could this boy threaten the king of the birds?” finished Mini. “We had no intention of stealing anything from you—we didn’t even know it was yours. We were looking for something else, found this, and thought it would lead us in the right direction.”

Aru had to hand it to Mini—she was becoming a smooth talker. And she’d kept everything vague. No reason for the whole world to know that they were searching for the wish-granting tree.

Garuda regarded them. Then his gaze slid to the raven.

“You want an explanation, little demigod?” demanded the raven. “Observe.”

The raven cawed three times, and the birds dove from the trees, all of them converging and flying in a circle around the accused. In the middle of the vortex they created, images appeared in the air. Aru saw a younger Garuda covered in writhing snakes as he walked down a huge white hallway in what looked like a palace. There was a look of anguish on his face as the snakes twined around him and flicked his ear with their tongues. Garuda glanced behind himself, and the view shifted to show two older women standing at the entrance of a large door. Their similar eyes and chins told Aru they were related.

One of them, draped in a sari made of glimmering scales, smiled slyly at Garuda. “Go on, then,” she said. “Take your cousins out to play, and do not let any harm befall them.”

“Please, sister, let my son rest,” said the other woman. “You have no quarrel with him.” She wore a simple outfit of spun cotton, and her hair was pulled back. Her face was sad and gaunt, whereas her sister’s was round and shining.

“You are the one who lost the bet, Vinata,” said the fancier woman. “How is it my fault that you agreed to be my servant? I can command you to do anything I please. I may not be able to control your son, but he will listen to you. And right now, my sweet children desire fresh air. I do not wish their poor, soft bellies to be torn up by the ground, so Garuda will carry them.”

“When Kashyapa returns, he will be displeased at how you’ve come to treat me, Kadru,” said Vinata.

Aru recognized the name Kashyapa. He was a powerful sage.

“When our husband returns. He’ll be meditating for a thousand more years, I imagine!” scoffed Kadru. “Which means I can enjoy a thousand more years of your servitude. Leave us, Garuda. My hair needs to be braided, and if your mother is distracted, she’ll do it sloppily.”

Garuda looked at both women with barely restrained rage. His mother merely nodded.

The image in front of Aru faded as the birds broke out of their circle and hovered in the air.

“Our king spent years in the service of his aunt, the mother of all snakes,” declared the raven. “It was only through hard work and nobility that he managed to free both himself and Vinata. And that is why birds and snakes do not trust one another to this day.”

Aru had no idea there was a mother of snakes…. Now she kind of wondered whether the whole “mother of dragons” thing from Game of Thrones was actually real, but it didn’t seem the right time to ask.

“The naga boy before you is a direct descendant of Kadru and her slimy spawn!” said the raven. “He’s the grandson of the naga king Takshaka, after all!”

“Yeah, well, he and I are not on great terms, trust me,” said Rudy.

“Trust you?” the raven squawked. “I think not.”

“But—” started Rudy.

With a flash, a ring of magical torches instantly illuminated the night sky. Aru blinked against the sudden light while the birds flapped in place before them. She glimpsed thousands of shining black eyes and sharp beaks and had the uncomfortable realization that they looked a lot like missiles.

Garuda raised his arm, then brought it down. As one, they struck.