“The Sleeper intends to slow down the heavens, too,” said Urvashi, her eyes widening. “He means to chop our legs from beneath us….But if he has truly awakened, then why are the agents of the heavens…them?” She flailed a hand at Aru and Mini.

Mini tightened her hold on her backpack. But she wasn’t glaring like Aru. Her eyes were shining, as if she were about to cry.

“Because…because we’re Pandavas,” Aru said, forcing her voice not to shake. “And it’s your job or—”

“Dharma,” whispered Boo. “It’s their sacred duty to help the Pandavas fight the Sleeper one last time.”

Fight? One last time? This was all news to Aru. Even the Guardians’ faces turned stiff at his words.

“Right. That,” said Aru. “So, you have to help us.”

“Oh, really?” said Urvashi. Her voice turned devastatingly calm. “If you’re Pandavas, then prove it.”

Hanuman stood up on his throne. “We have never forced anyone to undergo the Claiming before they were ready. The Pandavas were always trained, at least!” He stared down at Aru and Mini. “They’re only children.”

“According to the rules,” said Urvashi, smiling cruelly, “it must be unanimously agreed by the Guardians in residence that we believe they are semidivine. I do not believe. And if they’re only children, they shouldn’t bother.”

Aru was about to speak, but someone else got there first.

“We’ll prove it,” said Mini.

Her hands were clenched into fists beside her. Aru felt a strange burst of pride in the surprisingly brave Mini. But Boo did not seem enthusiastic. He fluttered to his former throne, his face as pinched and solemn as a pigeon could look.

“Let the Claiming commence!” called Urvashi.

The Court of the Sky zoomed back into the shadows. And where the circle of thrones had once surrounded them, now something else did: five gigantic statues. If they weren’t already in the sky, Aru might have guessed that the statues’ heads would have scraped the clouds.

Aru’s heart pounded, her previous burst of confidence gone. “You keep saying ‘claiming,’ but what are we claiming, exactly?”

“Like insurance? Deductions?” pressed Mini. She shrugged off Aru’s bewildered expression. “What? My mom’s a tax attorney.”

“You are not claiming anything,” said Boo. “It is the gods that will do the claiming. Each of the Pandava brothers had a different divine father. You are about to find out who yours is.”

From her mom’s stories, Aru knew that there were five main brothers. The first three—Yudhistira, Arjuna, and Bhima—were the sons of the god of death, the god of the heavens, and the god of the wind, respectively. The twin Pandavas—Nakula and Sahadeva—were born by the blessing of the Ashvins, the twin gods of medicine and sunset. And there was one more: Karna, the secret Pandava, the son of the sun god.

Aru wasn’t sure why they were all called brothers when they didn’t even have the same mom, but maybe it went back to what Boo had talked about—that they didn’t have to be blood-related to be siblings. There was a shared divinity-ness in their souls that was just as good as blood.

Or something like that.

“Wait. So, like, they’re just going to reach out from the heavens, weigh us, and say Yup, that seems like mine?” demanded Aru.

“What about documentation?” shrieked Mini, her voice hitching with panic. “Is this like a conversation, or are there needles involved, like in a paternity test?”

If Boo knew the answers, he had zero interest in sharing. Ignoring their questions, he walked toward one of the giant statues.

“Pranama as I say the gods’ names,” he said.

Pranama was when you touched the feet of your elders. Aru had to do that when she went to the temple and ran into the priest or someone much, much older and well respected.

“I always have to do that when my mom’s parents visit,” whispered Mini. “My grandfather has really hairy feet….”

“What about your dad’s parents?” asked Aru.

“They’re Filipino. My lola only likes her feet touched if I’m giving her a foot rub.”

“Shh!” said Boo.

“How will we know if one of the gods is claiming us?” Aru asked.

“Simple. They’ll choose to keep you alive.”

“WHAT?” cried Mini and Aru at the same time.

The walls of ribbon-lights started flickering.

“Don’t worry,” said Boo airily. “I’ve only been wrong about someone being a Pandava once.”

“So that means that person—”

“Watch out!” screamed Mini, pushing Aru.

The ribbon-lights slowly changed into a bunch of tiny bright spots, like stars. But then they came closer, and Aru saw that they weren’t stars at all.

They were arrow tips.

And they were heading straight for them.

Who’s Your Daddy?

Aru watched a lot of movies. Probably more than was good for her. Not that she cared. According to movies, right about now was when she should be seeing her life flash before her eyes while a bunch of people tearfully screamed, Stay with us! Don’t follow the light!