His belly bounced a little as he ran, and the end of Ma’s sari flapped crazily behind her, not to mention how totally messy and off-center her bouffant was.
“Oh, I knew you would find us, my darling. I, for one”—and here, Ma gave Baba a superior look—“had faith in you. You are, after all, a real Indian princess! As I have told you all along!”
There was a horrible groaning behind us as the rakkhosh baby woke up. Its time was up, and I was pretty sure, from its screeches, it was hungry.
Let me tell you, none of us needed a motivational motion device. Apparently, hanging out in all that primordial goop was like some kind of triple-wheatgrass shot for old folks, because my parents were hauling butt right along with Neel and me. In fact, Tuntuni was hitching a ride on Baba’s shoulder. If we weren’t running for our lives, we could have collected some of that well fluid and started a fabulous new line of vitamins: Demonic Silver—dark energy–filled vitamins for the senior set.
As it was, we had more important things to worry about. Like surviving the hunger pangs of a very persistent newborn rakkhosh. I snuck a glance over my shoulder. It wasn’t in a diaper or anything, but something about its eyes was really—well, maybe innocent isn’t the right word—but young, anyway. It was short for a rakkhosh, maybe only seven or eight feet tall. It had putrid, moldy skin, open boils, and about six horns coming every which way out of his head—maybe some kind of homage to Einstein-ji, I wasn’t sure. Of course, it also had the requisite fangs through which a more-than-requisite amount of drool was flowing. Its mouth was open like a gigantic vacuum, and I saw a few infant stars, some space dust, and some trees get sucked in.
“Stop! Din-ner! No run! Bogli hungry!” the baby demon yelled. It screwed up its ugly face in a wail. “Go in my belly now!”
“‘Bogli’ doesn’t rhyme?” I shouted at Neel.
“He hasn’t been to demon school yet,” he explained, helping Ma leap over some orange-colored bushes.
“If he wasn’t trying to cannibalize us, I might actually feel sorry for him.”
“Are you kidding?” he yelled back. “He’ll chew us up and use our bones for rattles!”
The demon spawn was gaining on us.
“Kiran, try to slow him down with some arrows!” Neel yelled as he helped Baba regain his balance over a tough patch of magenta stones.
I shot a couple of well-aimed arrows to the demon’s nose, eye, and belly—soft spots—which didn’t seem to slow the rakkhosh down at all. In fact, the demon baby’s eyes grew red with fury.
“Oo, you mean!” he shrieked. “Bogli eat you first! And make it hurt!”
Dang. I probably tasted better than vinegar and chili chips. I kept booking.
“Where are we going?”
It was dark, but the Maya Pahar mist had a luminous quality, so I could see the outlines of shapes as we ran along. In fact, some of those fuzzy purple trees were looking a little too familiar.
When we passed a blinking neon sign, I knew my suspicions were right:
THANKS FOR VISITING THE
MOUNTAINS OF ILLUSIONS
HOME OF THE ANDROMEDA STAR NURSERY!
BE SURE TO VISIT THE WELL OF DARK ENERGY
(IF YOU CAN FIND IT)!
TAKE A TOUR OF THE WORLD’S OLDEST
HALLUCINATION AND STAR FACTORY!
MAYA PAHAR: OUR ILLUSIONS ARE
YOUR DELUSIONS.
COME BACK SOON!
“‘Our illusions are your delusions’?” Baba panted as we ran past the sign. “A terrible slogan! I was just reading in the New Jersey small business owners’ newsletter how the right branding is very important to customer loyalty …”
“Never mind that now!” I yelled. “If we keep going in this direction, we’re going to go back to …”
I didn’t have to finish my sentence, because right in front of us was a familiar shoreline.
“Oh, rotting tail feathers!” Tuntuni squawked. “It’s Demon Land again!”
It was. I’d recognize that carcass-riddled coast anywhere. Only, the moving land masses apparently decided it was a good time to start shifting. We stumbled as the ground beneath our feet started moving in a smooth semicircle. It was what I imagine it might be like to watch tectonic plates shift—like when Africa broke away from Europe—just in superfast time-lapse photography.
Demon Land’s shoreline shifted one way, and Maya Pahar’s another. To the left, the Ruby Red Sea came into view, with some of its peacock barges lined up close to the shore. It was a strange sight—three different land masses each rotating away from the other. And we were at the point of the bizarre triangle.
Tuntuni flew off Baba’s shoulders to scout the moving ledge. “It’s not too far—you’ll have to jump for the barges!”
“You must be illusional and delusional!” cried Baba.
But Bogli the demon was gaining on us quickly. The ground trembled and the air was filled with his spoiled-eggy breath.
“Bogli eat you now!”
“It’s the only way,” Neel said apologetically to Ma and Baba. “I’ll go last to help you all make it.”
I looked at my parents, who nodded. Demonic wheatgrass shots, check. Ridiculous level of faith in Neel, check. No other choices, check.
I decided to jump first. If it wasn’t possible to hit the boat from here, I wanted it to be me who found that out.
“I’ll go to make sure—” I started saying, when a shrieking voice cut me off.
“In my belly!”
“Go!” I felt Neel’s hand push me, and I was in the air. I fell for a ridiculously long time, but somehow, miraculously, made it. I landed with a thunk on the floor of a peacock barge. “Come on!”
Baba and Tuni came next. Well, Baba came next but the bird flew alongside him as he fell, shouting encouragement. He actually ended up hitting the water, but it was a short swim into the boat. As I dragged him in, I yelled up to Ma and Neel, “Let’s go!”
They didn’t have a lot of time. The demon was gaining on them. I was sweating bullets. Would they make it?
“Bweakfast! Lunch! Din-din! Snack!” The demon’s claw was right over their heads.
“Jump!”
Neel and Ma leaped, hand in hand. But at the last minute, one of the demon’s talons caught on Ma’s sari. She lost hold of Neel’s hand.
“No!” he yelled, trying to reach her. In mid-fall, he threw her his sword. Which—and this is the real testimony to how much horsepower must’ve been in that dark energy goo—Ma actually caught.
“Me eat the mommy! Me eat the mommy!” the demon brat howled.
“Hya!” And that’s when my mother—my sweet-making, inventory-taking, ever practical, ever optimistic mother—did the bravest thing I have ever seen her do. Just as I had sliced through Lal’s scarf to free him from the demon on our front lawn, Ma sliced through the loose end of her sari, leaving the demon rug rat bereft and meal-less.
Unfortunately, it also left Ma without anything to hang on to, nowhere near the peacock barge. She fell like a rock—right over Demon Land.
Ma!” I screamed. I couldn’t watch, I couldn’t watch, I couldn’t watch!
Baba and I grabbed each other and held on.