The Serpent's Secret: Chapters 12–16

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a herd of brown-and-white dappled deer run by.

Before I could ask any more, the ornately carved doors of the stables flung open.

As Mati worked, she radiated such a sense of purpose and competence that I could almost feel it.

Lal looked sheepish. “Um, you two go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“They’re totally BFFs, you know. Best friends since they were babies.”
“Huh?” I asked in my not-so-eloquent way.

Neel didn’t say anything else, but loped off, leaving me to dash after him.

“Come on, Tuni, strike us a deal—how can we convince you to tell us what we want?” Neel wheedled.

“Yes, yes, I want to lock it in!”
“Oh, just get on with it!” Neel sniped.

“Must be a 2-D thing.” Tuntuni shook his head sympathetically.
Neel gave a patronizing thumbs-up. “Good try, though.”

Tuntuni relented, puffing out his chest again.

“Yeah. Lal’s mom, and the other queens, they’re kind of sticklers for how people dress and junk like that.”

I was used to Baba’s tales, which always started off in a meandering way too.

Then there was a muffled bumping on the other side of the screen. I prompted, “Danavi?”

The woman continued, “The moon maiden did all that was in her power—she exiled the farmers and the child out of the Kingdom Beyond Seven Oceans and Thirteen Rivers to a smoggy place at the end of a dark tunnel, a place where wide tarred roads stretch on and on, and no one can ever take a left turn...”

“Well,” she explained in a wheedling voice, “you are a beautiful blossom, despite being raised by simpletons who toil in the dirt.”

“Demoness!” she said. “But you can call me Demon Queen!”
Aw, bilious rakkhosh snot. Here we went again.

We approached the royal stables, which were glowing in the evening darkness with an unearthly light.

“Oof! That too-proud boy!” She belched. “That willful girl!”

The Rakkhoshi Queen clutched her stomach. “Aiii! Aii!” she cried. She shook a long taloned finger at me. “May you have children this ungrateful, my little Luna Bar, so you know the intestinal agony that only your progeny can give you.”

The demoness turned a shade of clover green. “That ridiculous, show-offy boy! That Little Prince Fauntleroy!” she moaned, belching clouds of acidic red smoke. “That prissy-shissy girl! So noble in her poverty! So sickeningly honorable!”

I walked up to the objects. They weren’t really little planets, I guess, more about the size of bowling balls. Had I imagined what I saw in her mouth? Had it been some kind of a psychedelic dream?

"There was a faint red light emanating from the golden sphere, and the silver one smelled like—what was it? Fresh cotton and honey.

The glittering curtain parted and a gray-haired man in regal clothes, gold earrings, and miles of gold necklaces came out.

“I am the Royal Minister of Sweets,” the elderly man said to me with a flourish, before he caught full sight of me.

In fact, I felt like an ordinary sixth grader from New Jersey masquerading in pretty clothes (that I’d already ruined).

A woman in a chartreuse sari and magenta blouse belched delicately, but no one gave me a second glance as I walked toward the royal dais.

“To see our queens so distraught is terribly vexing to us.” The Raja blew his nose into a large, lacy handkerchief.

“Royal husband.” Now the queen’s tone was cloying. “You will exile them, won’t you? You will banish them from the kingdom for what they have done to my son, your heir, the future Raja of this kingdom?”

“It’s all of your faults! You all did this to my precious boy!” the queen yelled as she was bustled away. “Not to mention all the time he spent with that horse-girl, that stable wench! No good can come from mixing with the poor, I tell you! No good can come from letting the son of a rakkhoshi and the daughter of a snake loose in the kingdom!”

I stole a glance at Neel, whose brown skin was turning seriously ruddy. I worried the lava of his rage was about to bubble up and out.

Neel’s grim face reminded me that he was only tolerating me out of some sense of princely duty.

“Oh, different kinds of demons, ghosts, witches, goblins, that sort of thing. K. P. Das is a senior demonologist of the highest caliber. He’s one of Lal’s and my tutors.”

“My best subject is demon slaying of course. Even though I believe more in demonic violence prevention and restorative justice than actual demon slaying.”

Neel looked huffy. Then he realized I was joking. “Very clever. You’re such a comedian.”

I explained that to Neel, who wasn’t that amused by my childhood anecdote.