“You owe me a toast. Am I not the blessed bride-to-be?”

He glared but raised his goblet. “Every good thing to you, Princess! May your scales shimmer like a rainbow all your long reign.” Then, remembering she’d kept her news from him, he whispered, “A rainbow trout, that is.”

“And may all the thick, luscious strands of your hair grow pale and fall from your withered scalp by the thirtieth anniversary of your birth,” Asha retaliated, a devious grin spreading over her fine cheekbones.

They tipped back their goblets. While the amrit might be a poor substitute for the actual nectar of immortality the nagas had lost to the garudas, it still tasted amazing, like honey made of sunlight. Venkat savored every drop.

Asha brought her mouth to his ear. “My foolish Venkat, do you know nothing at all? If you run to her so soon after without so much as a farewell, Karan will take note. Be assured of that.”

“Fine,” he said. “But you better get me out of here fast.”

“Perhaps you are possessed of a grain of sense, after all.” Asha preened, then looped her arm through his and walked him over to where Karan and her other friends were standing. “Look who I have brought to say good night!”

“It is early yet!” a girl said, her slit-pupil eyes as brilliant as her powerful copperhead tail. “Surely you will join us for some refreshments?”

Nayan had wanted Venkat to practice navigating the court, but that could wait. “No, no, you go ahead,” he said, doing his best to sound casual. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, but it is hardly an intrusion!” said Karan. “Right, Asha? For so long, you have kept him from us.” His mouth bent in a mocking grin. “It is only fair we get to know him, too.”

The rest of Asha’s friends chimed in. They were beautiful, excessively so, in a way Venkat had grown numb to. Now he couldn’t unsee how very not human they were. He wouldn’t forget that again.

It figured the nagas wanted him around now, he noted dryly, when all he wanted was to leave.

“I suppose I can stay for a minute,” he said, locking gazes with Asha, who gave him a minute nod. “Then I have to get going.”

Karan pouted, though his stare never left Venkat. “But—”

Chintu, of all people, came to the rescue. “That was incredible!” he announced, rolling his neck in circles. As his friends turned to him, the last wisps of the dream dissolved, returning to the ether from which they’d sprung. “When can I have another?”

His friends, including Karan, all broke into questions.

Thank Mansa Devi. Venkat would have to leave her an offering in the morning. He could only hope Tanvi hadn’t left yet.

“I ate pie!” Chintu’s fangs gleamed as he grinned. “Rhubarb apple pie.”