“Well, how was I supposed to know?” said the second.

“The Dark Knight is my favorite movie, remember? You should listen to me. I’m Ek, after all! You’re only Do.”

“Just because you were born first doesn’t make you more important,” said Do.

“Yes, it does,” said Ek.

“No, it doesn’t!”

Ek? Do? Aru knew those words. They were the names of numbers in Hindi, the most commonly spoken language in India. Ek and Do meant one and two. They sounded like ick and dough.

Aru’s mother had grown up speaking Gujarati, a language from the state of Gujarat. Aru didn’t speak either Gujarati or Hindi. All she knew were a few words, including some curses. (Which she hadn’t even known were bad words until the time she’d stubbed her toe in front of the priest at temple and just let loose. Her mother had not been amused.) When her hand tightened on the golden ball, it turned into a dim flashlight.

Four sets of eyes peered at Aru and Mini. In the glow of the ball, Aru could make out the shapes of two giant dogs.

Ek and Do each had two rows of eyes, and short brindled fur. When they walked forward to sniff the girls, their coats rippled and shimmered. Aru wondered whether they were soft.

Mini had pulled up the collar of her shirt and was pressing it over her nose. “Ermarregictodaws.”

“What?”

She surfaced from the cloth. “I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Of course you are,” said Aru.

“Are you dead?” asked Ek, the dog with the high-pitched voice.

“I don’t think so?” replied Mini.

At the same time, Aru said, “Of course not!”

“Well, you can’t come in if you’re not dead,” said Ek. “Those are the rules.”

“You don’t understand—” started Aru.

“Ah, but we do!” said Ek. “You have two choices. You can die on your own, or we can help by killing you!”

Do wagged his tail. “I love helping! Helping is fun.”

Who’s a Good Boy?

“Nope!” said Aru. “No thanks! We’ll find another way in—”

“I’m not going anywhere!” said Mini.

Ek yawned as if he’d heard this before. His teeth were really sharp. Why did they need to be that sharp? And was that…blood on his fangs?

“You don’t have to go anywhere to die, little one,” said Ek.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not going anywhere, because…because this is my kingdom?” said Mini. Her voice went up at the end. “I am the daughter of the Dharma Raja, and I demand entrance—”

“And I’m the daughter of Lord Indra!” butted in Aru.

Mini glared at her.

“Celebrities! Oh! Welcome, welcome!” said Do. “Could I get your autograph? We could do it before or after the whole killing-you thing. Whichever is most convenient.”

“Who cares if they’re celebrities? Death is the greatest leveler of them all! They are not the first. Nor the last. We’ve carried the souls of queens and murderers and infernal Yogalates instructors between our teeth,” said Ek proudly to the girls. “Even the Pandava brothers had to die. Even gods reincarnated in mortal bodies have to die.”

“That’s true,” said Do agreeably.

“It’s just a body!” said Ek, staring down his nose at them. “Leave them behind! Then we’ll let you through.”

“You can get new ones!” said Do.

Aru saw the telltale signs of Mini’s confidence waning: glasses off-kilter, lip tucked between her teeth.

“Um,” said Mini.

Ek’s teeth gleamed whiter. “We’ll make it quick.”

“I don’t really feel like rending someone apart,” mourned Do, even as his fur turned more bristly and his fangs elongated. “Why don’t we go out to the cremation grounds instead and bury bone shards? Or we can play Catch the Beheaded Thing! I’ve always liked that game.”

Ek growled. “Not now, Do! This is our job! Our dharma! Our duty!”

“Ha. Duty. Doo-tee.”

“Do, now is not the time—”

“It’s never the time, Ek! Yesterday you said we could play catch. Did we? No!”

Aru nudged Mini. Just beyond the two dogs, a thin sliver of light appeared. Maybe that was the true door to the Kingdom of Death and this was just the stuffy front hall. In which case, the reason it was opening now was probably because it sensed that someone was about to be dead. Aru gulped. If they could just get past these guardians, they could get into the kingdom.

Not that Aru was particularly excited about entering.

Something seemed to call to her from beyond that door. Something she already knew she did not like. Something that taunted. It reminded her of the Sleeper’s voice in her ear.

But still, anything was better than being torn apart.

“Wait till my father hears about this!” bellowed Mini. “I mean, my godly father. Not the human one. My human one would be mad too, but—”

“Mini,” Aru interrupted. “You’re not supposed to explain yourself after you say ‘Wait till my father hears about this.’”