More doubts sprouted like vines in Tanvi’s head. How long had Indu been here, then? She hadn’t been in Tanvi’s cohort.

“So,” Indu demanded, “are you going to give me the boon now, or can I go back to sleep?”

Tanvi tried hard to imitate the easy, encouraging smile Venkat had whenever he’d bought her wares. “I can trade you dreams that are even better than the ones you have—if you help me with something.”

“With what?” Indu almost sounded curious.

The thought of the plan burned like a fire ant’s bite. Tanvi shrank from it. As long as the words didn’t come out of her mouth, she was a dream runner just like Indu.

But as she examined Indu’s wooden expression, she saw all the people Indu had left behind on Prithvi. All the people who might still be mourning her. Nitya’s grieving face floated before Tanvi’s eyes. Her panicked plea not to go hummed in Tanvi’s ears. What if Indu had a sister, too? One she’d played soccer with?

Fury igniting in her, Tanvi shoved the ridiculous worries away. That was not her problem. “I need you to harvest my dreams.”

The interest that had sparked in Indu’s face when she’d thought boons might appear guttered, then died. “Dream runners don’t dream.” She turned back to the bed.

“I do, though,” Tanvi insisted. “Listen to me.”

Indu climbed onto the bed.

“Don’t you want your boon?” Tanvi tore her dreamstones from her pouch and waved them at Indu. “See? These can get it for you.”

But Indu had already checked out; her expression was as tranquil as a doll’s and every bit as remote.

“What happens if you can’t sell your dreams?” Tanvi went on, not caring how desperate she sounded. “If you don’t get any more boons after this one? Then what?”

Indu crawled under the coverlet. “Then I get replaced. Every dream runner’s only as good as their harvest.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“You’re weird.” Indu snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes, unhesitatingly falling into that indifferent slumber.

Tanvi could only stare in a mixture of horror and envy. Had she really been like that, too?

Two soccer balls. Two. A pair.

“Indu?”

No reply.

Tanvi had no blanket, no pillow, but she lay down on the floor next to Indu’s bed and aimed her glare at the ceiling.

At least neither of them had to be alone.

19