“Well, about that—” said Mini. She was waving her hand, ready to explain their strange situation, when the compact fell from her palm and landed on the desk with a loud thunk.

The man leaned over to take a look. All seven miniature versions of him dropped what they were holding and raced to the compact.

Aru scanned the table and saw a small brass plaque that read: CHITRIGUPTA. There was also a mug that read: FOURTEEN WORLDS’ BEST DAD. Behind him were bookcases and file cabinets and mountains upon mountains of paperwork. It took a moment for Aru to remember Chitrigupta from the stories. He was the one who kept a record of everything a soul had ever done, both good and bad. This was why karma mattered. Her mom used to say, Chitrigupta will see and write down everything.

Aru wasn’t sure she believed in karma. What goes around comes around sounded suspiciously convenient to her. But the one time she’d said Karma isn’t real, she’d walked outside and a bird had pooped on her head. So who knew?

“Where did you get the mirror, child?” asked Chitrigupta.

Most adults would have gone straight to accusing a kid of stealing. But not Chitrigupta. Aru liked that.

“It was given to me during the Claiming.”

“The claiming…Wait. The Claiming?” Chitrigupta’s eyes widened. “I don’t think there’s been a Claiming since…” He rose from his chair. “Bring up the records!”

The room spun into chaos. Aru and Mini stepped back as the seven miniature versions of Chitrigupta jumped onto him and disappeared. He slumped back into his chair, and his eyes glazed over. Then they flashed and crackled, and words streamed across his gaze.

When the text finished scrolling, he leaned forward again. Tears shone in his eyes. “Never been a girl before,” he said, looking between Mini and Aru. “How unusual…”

Aru braced herself, waiting to hear the usual lines that they couldn’t possibly be heroes, or that they were too weak, too young, or too…girly.

“And how refreshing!” he said. His shirt changed to say: THIS IS WHAT A FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE. “Upend the patriarchy! R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Et cetera, et cetera. And you got past Ek and Do, too. Well done, well done.”

Mini brightened. “So can you help us? We need to wake up the celestial weapons and then we have to go to the Pool of the Past to find out how to stop the Sleeper from ending Time forever.”

“Oh, that does sound dire,” said Chitrigupta. He reached for his mug and sipped from it. “Sadly, I’m not allowed to help. Not even the Dharma Raja could help you, little ones.”

Mini turned red. “Does he…does he know we’re here?” she asked.

“Undoubtedly.”

“Doesn’t he want to…I dunno…meet me?”

At this, Chitrigupta’s face softened. “Oh, child, I’m sure he does. But the truth is, he will eventually meet you one way or another. Your soul is what matters—it is the immortal thing, not the body. The gods no longer get involved with mortal affairs.”

“Can’t you make an exception?” asked Aru.

“If I could, do you not think I would have helped the heroes who came before you? Bright, shining things they were. Like living stars. I can only do for you what I did for them.”

“And that is…?”

Chitrigupta sighed. He spread out his hands. Two ivory-colored tokens—flat squares with screens, like tiny iPhones—appeared on the table. “I wish there were more, but you two simply haven’t lived long enough.”

Aru picked up one of the tokens. She saw little images of herself flashing on its surface. In one she was holding open the door for a young woman carrying a stack of books. In another, she was washing the dishes in the apartment. In the next, she was pulling a blanket over her sleeping mother.

“What are these?” asked Mini.

“Good karma,” said Chitrigupta. “They should allow you to get past at least some of the things buried within these halls. You see, there are many rooms in the Kingdom of Death. Many places you may enter but not exit. All I can tell you is that you must follow the signs and find your own way. The celestial weapons are kept near the Pool of Reincarnation. Right next to the Pool of Reincarnation is where you will find the Pool of the Past.”

“There’s only one way to get to them?” asked Aru. She was thinking about the handy trick Boo had shown them, where all they had to do to go somewhere was reach for a place with intention.

Thinking about Boo made her heart tighten. Was he okay? She hoped he was somewhere safe, blissfully asleep. Deep down, however, she feared that wasn’t the case….

“Oh, I don’t know about that. There are hundreds of ways. Some paved, some pebbled, some pockmarked.”

One of Chitrigupta’s miniature selves hopped onto his shoulder, climbed onto his face, and scratched his nose while he spoke. Aru tried not to let her eyebrows soar up her forehead.

“Even I do not know what you will find in the Halls of Death,” said Chitrigupta. “Things and places move through death differently than humans do. Things that were once real are now mere stories in this kingdom. Forgotten things endure their own death, for they are never reincarnated into something new.”

Forgotten things?

Aru wanted to believe this meant they would find objects like deflated basketballs, mismatched socks, or bobby pins. Or that pen you could have sworn you put into the pocket of your backpack but wasn’t there when you went to look for it. But she knew that was wishful thinking.