Page 88 of Aru Shah and the End of Time

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Mini asked him. “If you did, I…I can’t remember….”

“Ah, forgive me,” said the man. He laughed.

He waved his hand, and the snowy particles lifted off the girls’ skin and hair. Bits of knowledge thudded back into Aru’s head.

Only now did she remember her favorite color (green), her favorite dessert (tiramisu), and her name. How could she have forgotten those things? Aru found that very scary, because it meant she wouldn’t know when something had been stolen from her.

“My name is Shukra. I am the guardian of the Bridge of Forgetting. It is rare that I talk to living beings. You see, I do not venture often beyond my bridge.”

Aru couldn’t remember a single story about him, but that made sense, given who he was. And no wonder he never left. Imagine how rough that would be at parties. “Who are you, again?” “I’m Shukra! Don’t you remember?” “Right, right…So, who are you?”

As Shukra walked toward them, Aru noticed that there were five mirrors floating around him. One over his head, one below his feet, one on his right, and one on his left. Another floated at chest level, high enough that he would only need to tilt his chin down to see his reflection.

Was this normal for beautiful people? In Madame Bee’s salon, the whole place had been covered in reflective surfaces. Aru wondered whether mirrors just conveniently flocked to pretty people like sheep.

Behind Shukra, the land dropped off into a cliff. The snow—or whatever it was—clung to the outline of an invisible bridge. If Aru and Mini could cross that, they’d be well on their way to the place where the celestial weapons were kept.

“I’ve already forgotten my manners once,” said Shukra silkily. “I would be remiss to do so twice. Pray, what are your names, children? Your full names, please.”

Aru felt a tickle at the back of her throat. As if her name was trying to escape. She didn’t want to say it, but it was like she couldn’t help herself.

“Yamini,” said Mini.

“Arundhati,” said Aru.

It was weird to utter it aloud. She only heard her full name once a year, when teachers called roll on the first day and stumbled over the pronunciation. Aroon-dottie? Arun-dutty? Arah-hattie?Aru, she would say.Just Aru. Usually, one of her classmates would howl in the background, pretending to be a wolf calling to the night:Aroooooooo! (In first grade, Aru had tried to go along with it by leaping out of her chair and barking. She’d been sent home.)

“Lovely names. They will be beautiful ornaments for my bridge,” said Shukra, examining his fingernails.

“So can we go across?” asked Aru.

“Of course.” He smiled. He may have been handsome, but his teeth were terrifying. They were black, crooked, and filed to points. “But to those who wish to cross the Bridge of Forgetting, I always offer a choice. And I will offer the same to you. First, will you hear my tale, daughters of the gods?”

“How did you know we were the daughters of gods?” Mini asked.

“You reek of it,” said Shukra, not unkindly.

Aru discreetly sniffed her armpits. Still good. She mentally high-fived herself.

“The scent of godhood does not lurk in the pits of humans,” hissed Shukra.

“Oh.”

“The scent of godhood lies in the burdens that hover above you. Pungent and powerful stenches they are,” he said. “Each of you has a past, present, and future that was robbed from you. I, too, was robbed. Hear my tale. Then you can decide if you still wish to cross the Bridge of Forgetting.”

Two chairs made of ice swiveled out of the ground and Shukra gestured for them to sit down. Aru didn’t really want to, but the chair didn’t care. Every time she stepped away, it slid a little closer, finally tripping her so she fell into the seat. The chair was so cold it burned her skin. Beside her, Mini’s teeth chattered.

Shukra eyed himself in one of his five mirrors. “Do you know why I’m cursed to be forgotten?” he asked.

“Run-in with a bad demon?” guessed Aru.

Mini glared at her.

“If only it were that simple,” said Shukra.

Aru really wanted to kick the chair and get out of here. Shukra seemed even more dangerous than the dogs that had guarded the entrance to the Kingdom of Death. There was something too…quietabout him. As if he knew he’d already won and was just taking his time.

“I killed the one person who could stand to look at me.”