“I was watching!” Venkat protested, but he already knew how this saga went. All of Nagalok did. Garuda had proposed a bargain: he would bring the nagas the amrit of immortality in exchange for an end to Vinata’s bondage. It was a con, however; once his mother was safe, Garuda had absconded with the amrit, in his haste spilling a handful of drops on the kusa grass, and the nagas, ravenous for a taste of what they’d lost, licked it off the spiky blades, causing them to have forked tongues ever after.

Yet not even getting Vinata back had quenched Garuda’s bloodlust. He’d recklessly hunted his cousins as food and encouraged his brethren to do the same, until Lord Vishnu had interceded and officially prohibited the eating of one’s relatives. Though the nagas had fought back with fang and venom, their casualties had grown too great, driving King Vasuki and Queen Naga Yakshi to order a retreat to Nagalok while they regrouped.

Nayan and the council were certain they’d find a solution, and Venkat believed they would, too, one that meant the nagas wouldn’t need dream runners anymore. In the meantime, he’d keep at his own experiments.

Beside him, Asha made a revolted face. Venkat opened his mouth to tease her, but then he spotted the reason for her grimace.

In the wake of the council’s morning dispatch, sentries now patrolled the perimeter. He’d heard this was coming, but actually seeing the scabbarded swords, the bows and quivers packed full of arrows, and the maces hefty enough to smash through walls had him edging closer to Asha. The sentries’ expressions were just as much of a weapon as anything they carried, keen with a barely leashed ferocity.

Asha nodded at Venkat. “I believe it is time,” she said.

He returned the nod. The people needed reassurance, and so as Asha glided and he strode along, he began to hand out the bounty in his bag, Nayan’s promise of the future.

Asha slithered over to a man Venkat recognized as belonging to the lesser nobility. He moved to follow. It made sense to give the dream fragments to those in positions of power, because they had the most influence, but something his grandmother had once said stayed with him: it wasn’t how rich or connected anyone was that made them special, but rather the potential waiting to be uncovered in their heart.

He knew what he should do, but he couldn’t do it. Asha’s minor lord didn’t need the fragment. He could afford to buy one anytime.

Instead, Venkat headed back the way he and Asha had come until he found a solitary old man. “Here you go, ji,” he said, offering the fragment to the stunned man and then joining his palms before his face. “Shubh Deepavali.”

The man took a moment to catch his breath. “For me? Truly? But they are so rare!”