The arrows grew bigger the closer they got. They cut through the air, and the sound they made was halfway between a wince and a whistle.

Aru’s gaze darted across the empty sky. Forget the rules from a movie. She’d follow anything—even a suspiciously bright light at the end of a tunnel—if it meant getting out of here.

But then the rain of arrows stopped short. It was as if someone had just hit PAUSE.

“Don’t worry,” said Boo. “The arrows won’t actually hit until you’ve paid your respects to the five father gods of the Mahabharata.”

Aru and Mini were crouched and huddled together. Both of them were staring up at the quivering arrows hovering just a couple of feet over their heads. Maybe it was her imagination, but the arrows seemed really annoyed that they had to wait a bit before they got to launch themselves at Aru and Mini.

“Um, great?” said Aru.

“Dharma Raja, we acknowledge you,” said Boo in a deep voice.

The statue of the Dharma Raja, Lord of Justice and Death, loomed above them. He was as gray as ash. Two sharp tusks curled from under his lip. In one hand he held his danda stick, the rod used for punishing souls in the afterlife. In the other, he held the noose he used to rope the souls of the dead. Aru’s breath quickened as she remembered which Pandava was his son: Yudhistira. He was the oldest Pandava brother, and was known for being noble and just and wise.

Aru wasn’t sure she wanted the Dharma Raja to be her dad. Being known for being the wisest and most just? Way too much pressure.

“Pranama!” hissed Boo.

Mini and Aru rushed forward and touched his feet.

“Lord Indra,” said Boo.

The statue of Indra, king of the heavens, was next. His skin was the color of a thunderstorm. In his hand, he held the weapon Vajra, the thunderbolt. There was no way Aru could be the daughter of Indra. His Pandava son was Arjuna the Triumphant. Out of all the Pandava brothers, Arjuna was the most famous. He had the most adventures, and was known for his incredible skill with the bow and arrow. If being wise and just was pressure, imagine being considered the greatest hero out of the entire story.

No thank you, thought Aru.

“Lord Vayu.”

Huh, thought Aru. That wouldn’t be so bad.

Vayu, Lord of the Winds, stirred a slight breeze. He was dark-skinned and looked like the handsome star of a Bollywood film. He held a spinning flag that heralded the directions. His Pandava son was Bhima the Strong. Bhima was known for having a ridiculously large appetite, being superstrong, and also having a temper. All of which Aru thought she could deal with.

“The Ashvins, Nasatya and Dasra.”

Two statues with the heads of horses glowed. They were the gods of sunrise and sunset, and medicine. Their Pandava sons were also twins. Nakula the Beautiful and Sahadeva the Wise.

Definitely would not mind being known for beauty, thought Aru. She still had some misgivings about the whole wisdom thing.

Mini and Aru paid their respects to each. When the final pranama was done, the two of them stood back-to-back within the circle of gods. Above her, Aru heard the impatient hissing of the arrows. They were trembling, not like a leaf that’s about to fall from a branch, but like some sort of rabid beast that’s legitimately trembling with excitement over tearing you apart. Too late, Aru remembered Boo’s “reassurance” that the arrows wouldn’t actually hit them until they had finished their pranama.

They’d definitely finished.

A sharp sound cut the air, as if someone had dropped a handful of sewing needles. An arrow landed near Aru’s foot. Mini screamed.

A few more arrows pelted the ground. Not all at once. No, that would be too easy.

It was as if someone was tempting the gods: Either of these kids striking your fancy? Wanna save one? Here, I’ll give you a second to think.

Aru threw up her hands, trying to see through the lace of her fingers.

“Move!” screamed Mini, attempting to shove Aru out of the circle of statues.

Aru teetered backward. When she looked at where she’d been standing, she saw a handful of arrows stuck in the air.

“Stay calm!” shouted Boo.

“Who can stay calm when arrows are being shot at them?!” she screamed.

“A god!” said Boo.

“But we’re not gods!” said Mini.

“Ah. Good point!”

Mini hefted her backpack and scuttled closer to Aru. “We have to hide,” she hissed.

But what was the point of that? The arrows would find them regardless. Aru peered up at the statues and their cold, impassive faces. Don’t they care? Aru tried to pry off one of the statue’s toes to hurl it back at the arrows. Not that that would do anything, but at least it would feel useful. But the stone didn’t yield.

More arrows landed in front of her. One was an inch from her pinkie. Another whispered past her ear. Now the arrows looked like a colony of bats.

“This is it,” moaned Mini, holding up her backpack. She pressed herself tightly against Vayu’s stone legs.

Aru braced herself.

The arrow points were spinning toward her, blowing wind against her face.

Aru flung out her hand, eyes pinched closed. “STOP!”

The whistling wind went silent. Aru blinked open. Her hand was still extended. For a moment she wondered whether she had stopped the arrows herself. But then she saw what was protecting her: a net. It crackled and shimmered as if its mesh were made out of…out of bolts of lightning.