Suddenly, the lion seemed like the least alarming thing in the room.

Because the other visitors were gods.

“Kiki, this is Chamundeshwari,” said Ashwini, somewhat unnecessarily. I had known her the instant I saw her: she was my version of the warrior goddess, down to her armored tunic, a sword twice the size of the one Ashwini had carried around last night, and the gold glitter sprinkled across her black braid and dark brown skin. (I liked glitter. Seeing her now, though, it occurred to me that she probably liked having it on her a lot less.)

Which meant the enormous tea-drinking creature by the window was Chamundeshwari’s lion. The one she rode into battle.

I gave them both a weak smile.

“And this,” Ashwini went on, clearing her throat, “is Vishnu.”

I gulped. “Um.”

“That is not a real word in any dialect,” Vishnu, a literal god, replied sternly.

He looked like any other man, except for the golden crown on his close-cropped head of dark hair, but the air around him seemed to crackle with electricity. He had dark, piercing eyes that looked decidedly unimpressed by what was in front of him.

Which is to say, me.

“You need not bow,” he said generously, which made me immediately worry that I should have. I already knew this was going to torment me later. I would obsess over every second of this conversation, wondering if an actual god now thought I was a complete twit.

Vishnu looked at Ashwini and Lej. “We would like to speak to Kritika alone.”

It wasn’t a request, so I wasn’t surprised when Lej ducked out of the room immediately. Ashwini didn’t look happy. She hesitated, which I appreciated, but Vishnu gave her a severe look. Biting her lip, she left.

Alone with two gods and a lion, I, of course, ramped up my worrying. I didn’t actually know how to stand in the presence of such lofty heavenly figures. I kept my back perfectly straight, but after a lifetime of huddling with the worst posture possible over sketchbooks and paper, it was surprisingly uncomfortable. Was slouching acceptable? Would they smite me if I sat down? What was I supposed to say?

Luckily, Vishnu seemed to feel no contribution from me was necessary. “I am here from our world on behalf of the other gods, Kritika,” he said.

It’s Kiki, I wanted to say, but didn’t dare. Kritika chafed at my brain, but Kiki had a certain symmetry.

“When Mahishasura entered this universe,” Vishnu went on, “we gods sensed his power at work and realized he had found a way back to our world. The tear between this world and ours is still small, fortunately, but given time, we have no doubt Mahishasura will find a way to rip it wide open and escape. It is imperative that he is not permitted to do that.”

I nodded. “I know that.”

“I am glad to hear it. Then you are prepared to defeat him?”

“Well, if by defeat, you mean break the—”