Maya's feet crunched under a layer of green and brown leaves. Heat swelled around her, trapped beneath the tangle of trees and ferns above her head. It pressed upon her shoulders, weighing them down. The sounds of birds calling to one another echoed around her as if she stood in an enormous cavern. Her surroundings expanded out in all directions and yet she felt a suppression in the place. She raised her chin defiantly against it.

"Justin!" a voice called from ahead on the trail and Ramya came into sight.

A shiver ran through Maya's body, and then Justin blinked, and walked toward Ramya.

"Yes?" he responded as he wiped the sweat dripping into his eyes.

He noticed sweat dripped down Ramya's face as well.

Pointing back down the path, Ramya said, "It seems safe. I think we need to just follow this path."

Justin nodded. They walked in silence, side-by-side, both overcome by the jungle surrounding them. Both were nervous about what creature could jump out of the shadows at any moment.

As they walked, Justin searched within himself.

"Yes?" asked her voice from within.

Was Maya a costume he could put on? Something that could be taken off and discarded? Or was she something more permanent? Something that had always been there, but he had only discovered recently.

He thought back to the night he played with Nitara and Niraj. It felt so right to play Maya, so easy. She also felt familiar, which frightened Justin. It was a feeling like Maya had been one of those childhood friends that just immediately feel right. At once inseparable, like a limb. Then together you get in trouble for something. Something the grown-ups find wrong and you don't understand. You are separated and told to play with others. Later on in life, you meet this friend again and although the friendship is still there; you worry about a wrongness to it you can't even understand. Wrongness made by others, but now you feel.

"There's my mother and two brothers," said a voice, pulling Justin from his thoughts.

"What?" asked Justin.

"My family," said Ramya, "it's confusing. So I thought I could make sense of it for you."

"Oh, yeah, I would like that."

Ramya smiled. "As I told you, my great-grandparents were the ones first interested in magical relics. Once wizards were discovered, they began making magical objects for magicians. They created a business, a very lucrative business. My uncle, Jahan, Nitara, and Niraj's grandfather inherited the business. He is a powerful and rich man in India. My mother hated the business and hated her parents. She fell in love with a man her parents would never approve of and moved to Australia. My parents still live there.

"My other uncle, Zian, was also not interested in the business. He felt the urge to help others. He hoped it would balance out the bad my family had done. He became a doctor and started the free clinic with Ranesh. Nitara and Niraj's mother, Anouka, hated her father and wanted nothing to do with the business. Uncle Zian took her in when she was just a teenager. After nursing school, Zian asked me to come to India and help run the free clinic, and I did. Zian died two years ago and his wife, aunt Priya, died only a few months ago from dementia."

A tear dripped down Ramya's face and he quickly wiped it away before he continued.

"Umm... right, so Zian's and Priya's apartment is the one I live in with Anouka and the kids. Anouka also has a brother, Darshan, who works for their father. He works in foreign relations, acquiring magical objects from around the world, and discovering new magic magicians can use. He is horrible, perhaps worse than his father. Charming and always hiding something. He always has an ulterior motive.

"When we were kids, he would bully me relentlessly." The veins in Ramya's neck bulged as he clenched and unclenched his hands. "One time he even punched me in the face, giving me a black eye, and when I ran to the adults to tell them, he was already there convincing them I had fallen and was going to blame it on him...." Ramya paused and lowered his head. "I did nothing. I didn't plead my case or fight back. I was so humiliated that I ran off into the jungle and didn't come out for hours until Anouka found me and convinced me to come back."

Mentioning Anouka was like an elixir for Ramya. He straightened, and the tension in his neck subsided. "Recently Anouka finally agreed to work for her father. I think her brother convinced her it was the only way to protect Nitara and Niraj. She is always being sent on trips to faraway places to pick up the magical objects Darshan wants."

Up ahead, the jungle path narrowed. Justin blinked. In fact, the whole jungle was narrowing to a single point.

"Ah!" said Ramya. "This would be the end of the portal, thank God. Short and sweet."

As they continued, the narrowing of the world around them pressed upon Justin from all sides. It felt as if his insides were being squeezed together. He couldn't breathe and he realized he and Ramya were sprinting forward.

Justin took the lead, practically swimming through space that had taken on a liquid feel. In the distance, he could see, as if in a reflection, a roundabout with a castle in the middle. His chest spasmed. They would never make it.

The liquid space around Justin surged forward, like water being sucked into a building wave, it pulled Justin with it. He tumbled head over feet again and again until he rolled over something hard, coming to a stop sprawled out on his back.

Someone was yelling and then Ramya tumbled into view, sliding to a halt on his stomach.

"That was awful," said Ramya.

Justin nodded. "Is it always that bad?"

"No. I think the portal was closing on us. We barely made it out."

"What would have happened if we didn't make it out?"

Ramya sat up. "Oh, I know where we are. A village not too far out of Bengaluru called Govindapura."

Justin sat up and looked around. They sat under another one of those large trees with large roots hanging down from the branches. In front of them, a paved roundabout encircled a small square orange brick building. On top of the brick building, a small white temple with one tower reached into the air in circular layers that became smaller and smaller until they ended in a tiny golden disk. This was Justin's castle that he'd seen through the portal.

On the other side of the roundabout sat newer-looking buildings with large windows outlined in blue paint. A white and orange awning hung over a blue door and above the awning, a sign read in big blue letters, Cybercafe. Below that, letters in another alphabet spelled out something Justin could not read.

Standing up, Ramya wiped off the dirt collected on his tumble out of the portal.

"Ah, Mr. Angadi's," he said. "I am sure the owner of the cybercafe will know everything that occurs near his store. Let's go talk to them."

And with that, Ramya stepped onto the road, ignoring the honks of angry cars and motorbikes as he made his way across the roundabout.

Justin did not immediately follow, still recovering from his trip through the portal. Or was it her trip? He shook his head. He also wondered why he felt drawn to the small temple in the center of the roundabout.

Standing in front of the cybercafe, Ramya took one look at Justin still lying on the ground, rolled his eyes, and disappeared into the café.

Slowly, Justin got to his feet. Reaching his hands into both pockets of his robe, his left hand touched a wooden box and a bundle of plant material. His right hand touched Simon's letter. He smiled and, waiting until there was an actual gap in the traffic, he crossed the road to the temple.

Standing directly in front of the temple, Justin decided it felt insignificant. The very top of the temple stood as tall as Justin's forehead. The white paint on the temple had faded to a dull yellow and was chipping in many places.

The hairs on his arms rose. What was it that drew him to the temple? Nearby, someone started to hum. Looking around for the person humming, Justin could only see cars speeding around the roundabout. The humming turned into words, words Justin could understand.

"What shall I, a poor man, do?" asked the voice.

Justin spun around, but no one stood behind him. He turned back to the temple and stumbled back into the street. A car blared its horn, causing Justin to leap forward.

His mouth fell open. Where, seconds ago, there had been orange brick, stood a plain wooden door. Justin sighed, wishing that just for once magic would not spring out at him or even try to kill him.

He peered over to the café, but Ramya was nowhere to be seen.

"Come in," the voice said, and now Justin could tell it was coming from behind the wooden door, "let your Atma speak to me."

Without even thinking, Justin brought his hand to the metal doorknob, opened it, and stepped through.

It was bright on the other side, almost too bright. Justin blinked rapidly, his eyes watering, but still, the bright light blinded him. A loud roaring noise drowned out any other noises. It reminded him of when his parents had taken him and his brother to see Niagara Falls. Standing on a boat right next to the falls had been deafening. The roar of the water had consumed the senses so much that Justin had felt weightless. He felt weightless now, the feel all-too-familiar. He froze. His eyesight adjusted to the light.

Justin stood on a large wooden platform. His eyes landed on Satvi, kneeling in the center of the platform with her eyes closed.

"Satvi!" Justin shouted over the roar of the waterfall. Taking two steps toward her, he stopped. Waterfall. The platform hovered over the edge of a waterfall. On all sides of the platform, massive amounts of foaming, churning water flowed to a cliff edge, where it plummeted thousands of feet, disappearing into a mist of dark green jungle.

Satvi opened her eyes. Looking at Justin, she gasped. "You found it too!" she shouted. "Come and sit with me in the center. Maybe you can find our way out!"

"Way out?" he yelled back. He turned to point to the door he had yet to shut, but he found only the end of the platform and more raging water.

"Come here!" Satvi shouted.

Dropping to his hands and knees, Justin crawled to where Satvi sat. He didn't trust his feet to get him there without tripping and causing him to fall into the water. When he reached her, the roar of the waterfall dulled. It didn't completely go away. It was as if someone had stuffed cotton into his ears.

"Better?" Satvi asked.

Justin nodded. "Where are we?"

"You are in between," a voice responded. The same voice that told Justin to come in. Justin looked up to see an Indian man sitting cross-legged in front of Satvi and himself. The man wore a white robe draped around one shoulder. A necklace of brown beads and another of red cloth draped around his neck. White painted lines intricately wove over the man's forehead, neck, shoulders,  and wrists. He reminded Justin of a monk or spiritual leader.

"You speak English?" asked Satvi, a look of surprise on her face.

The man smiled. "I speak to all."

Satvi nodded as if this made sense.

Finally, Justin's mind caught up to what he saw. "Where is in between?" he asked. "And who are you?"

"Oh sorry," said Satvi and she looked at Justin, "Justin, this is Basavanna, a twelfth-century saint and philosopher." She then gestured at the man. "Basavanna, this is Justin, umm... he is... umm... a wizard, I guess, and from California."

Basavanna bowed to Justin.

"Pleased to meet you, Justin." He looked at Satvi." But you are wrong I am not Basavanna the man, he has long died, I am merely a reflection of his Atma or soul, created by the man to help those in need of helping."

"Can you help us get back to Govindapura?" asked Justin.

Satvi shook her head. "I tried that, and he went on about some nonsense of helping us find our true selves. I've already told him all about my obsession with western movies and Clint Eastwood. Nothing."

A pit formed in Justin's stomach.

"But sir," he said, "I have to get back. My friends are in danger and I must help them."

"I know," said Basavanna, smiling. "You must reveal your Atma in order to help your friends. Trust me, it is the only way."

"How?" Justin asked.

"I will show you how to leave once you show me a poem," Basavanna responded.

It was then Justin noticed that only the man's face moved. The rest of his body sat like a statue stuck in place.

"Really?" asked Satvi, crossing her arms. "A poem?"

"Yes. Justin, how about you go first?"

Justin crossed his own arms over his chest. He felt as if Basavanna had placed a spotlight on him.

He gulped and asked, "What sort of poem?"

"The truth. Show me who you are. What is locked within?"

"Within?"

The philosopher nodded, and Justin could literally feel his soul cower in the cage he built around it. The cage was all it knew. When someone spoke of freedom, it hid.

He inhaled but did not open the cage.

"I am thirteen years old, but I do not fit the mold. My brother is missing and I am wishing..."

Giggling cut Justin off and he turned to see Satvi holding a hand over her mouth. She went quiet as he looked at her.

"Sorry," she said.

"Justin," said Basavanna, "a poem does not have to rhyme. It can when it feels right, but it does not have to."

"I thought that was what a poem was," said Justin.

"No, a poem is any words that come from your soul."

"Any?"

"Yes, as long as it is true to who you are."

Justin looked at the water flowing over the cliff edge. What was this place? What would happen right now if he jumped in?

He closed his eyes, going back to when he stood beneath Niagara Falls. The deafening of his senses had freed him, just as dancing with Nitara had freed Maya.

He opened his eyes and looked directly at Basavanna. "Can I hear the waterfall?"

Basavanna nodded, and the roar and energy of the waterfall filled Justin up. It elevated him and slowly he opened his cage and spoke.

"Sometimes I don't feel like my body is my own. No, not sometimes, always.

But is it still my body?

Is my mind betraying my body, or is my body betraying my mind?

I feel this need to define myself, but how?

Two boxes and I am suspended above both.

No, suspending above both would mean I feel whole.

My mind sits in one box while my body sits in another.

I know there are those who must be one box over the other.

Choice is possible.

Choice?

Two boxes.

Created by who?

If all we have are two choices, is it a choice at all?

One box is a prison, but are two any better? Do I need defining or do I need freeing? But I crave a box where I feel safe."

Justin stopped talking, and the roaring of the water stopped as well. A quiet stillness washed over Justin.

Next to him, Satvi gasped. Justin opened his eyes. A plume of smoke swirled out of Satvi's chest. It curled and danced on an invisible breeze, and Justin watched as it extended out towards a wooden door on the far side of the platform.

Justin jumped to his feet. It was the door he had entered through.

"My magic is back," said Satvi and tears dripped down her cheeks.

Basavanna bowed his head toward Satvi. "One with themselves, they alone are the true God."

Smiling Satvi, bowed back to the man.

"So we can go?" asked Justin. "Even though I am... confused?"

The philosopher smiled and nodded.

"Yes, even more so because you admit you are confused. What a wondrous thing. You are on a journey. Remember, things standing shall fall, but the moving ever shall stay."

"Right...."

Justin stood and made his way to the door. Then a feeling overtook him, and he turned and bowed awkwardly to Basavanna.

"Thank you," he said.

Satvi stood as well and mimed tipping a cowboy hat to Basavanna. "I doubt it matters where you die, but it matters where you live." She then nodded at Justin. "Come on, let's go before you embarrass me even more in front of a soul, or a reflection of a soul, or whatever."

She grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait," said Basavanna and both Satvi and Justin looked up at the man still sitting frozen, cross-legged.

"You are not the only ones looking for the beast."

Satvi rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"They are here in Govindapura. They seek to kill."