Tiger’s Destiny (30 page)
The Lords of the Flame bowed to me, Ren, and Kishan and held out their weapons.
“What is this?” Kishan asked cautiously.
“It is our custom to present our weapons to our opponents before we engage in battle,” Wyea explained.
I didn’t even have time to protest before Ren and Kishan took the offered weapons and bowed back, offering their golden swords, the
chakram
, and the trident for inspection.
I hissed, “Don’t trust them!” but my disapproval fell onto deaf ears.
Ren and Kishan bent their heads together, examining the weapons while the Lords of the Flame barely glanced at Durga’s gleaming arsenal. Instead, they spent their time inspecting me in a very disconcerting way. To get away from Wyea’s stripping-me-with-his-eyes and Shala’s wonder-what-you’d-be-like-as-my-concubine gazes, I moved behind Ren.
Ren and Kishan briefly studied Shala’s staff, which I knew a little about, having heard Li go on about weapons after each martial arts film we watched. The shaft along the middle ended in polished gold guards and was crisscrossed with leather thongs, which would make it easier to grip. Long razor-sharp blades sprung from both ends. Each blade faced in an opposite direction and had a pointed tip.
Wyea’s weapon appeared to be a morning star, a heavy studded mace attached with a chain on one side and a polished black spear with a large, pointed head on the other. But when Ren ran his thumb across the top, the head snapped as quickly as a mousetrap. Sharp barbs sprung out at every angle, and try as he might, Ren couldn’t get the weapon to reset. Wyea took it from him, and the barbs slid back into their hiding place. The handsome Lord handed Ren his trident and sword and admired his own weapon.
“It’s beautiful, is it not?” Wyea asked, looking directly at me. With a cocky grin and a wink, he turned and said, “Whenever the two of you are ready.”
Ren nodded mutely while the twin Lords moved toward the center of the battlefield.
I put my hand onto Ren’s arm. “I know what that weapon is,” I whispered. “Mr. Kadam mentioned it. It’s a
Gáe Bolga
.”
Kishan frowned. “What’s that?”
“It’s from Norse mythology. I won’t go into all the details but when the weapon enters flesh, the barbs pop out. The only way to remove it is to,” I swallowed thickly, “cut it out.”
Ren grunted. “Good to know.”
“Are you prepared?” Shala called across the battlefield.
I pressed Durga’s brooch into Kishan’s hand and heard him mumble, “Armor and shield.”
The brooch grew, encompassing his upper arm in gold and swiftly moved across his entire body, covering him in gleaming black and gold armor. The brooch became a handle, and circular segments flipped out, snapping into place until Kishan had a large shield with a roaring black tiger on the front.
Ren held out his hand for the other brooch. His fingers clasped mine briefly before he whispered some words in Hindi and his own brooch began to grow. Segments flipped over and around his limbs, connecting with a weighty snap. Soon his body was protected as well, encased in armor of silver and black. His heavy shield sported a snarling white tiger.
I helped thread the trident through Ren’s belt and then knelt to pull my bow and arrows from my pack.
Ren’s gloved hand soon covered mine. “What are you doing, Kelsey?”
“Fighting with you,” I replied and pushed some stray hair from my eyes.
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“I’ll shoot from a distance.”
Ren was about to say something else when a fire erupted in my hands. The bow and arrows burst into flame and disappeared.
Wyea suddenly appeared behind me in a circle of flame. “You are the prize, my dear, not a warrior.”
“I think I’ve heard this before. I’m done sitting on the sidelines. I wish to fight for my own freedom. Surly you can’t begrudge me that.”
The burning form of Shala materialized next to his brother. “Why are we waiting?”
“She wishes to fight,” Wyea explained.
“She may not.”
Wyea wiped some black dust from his armor. “I admire her spirit. Perhaps we should let her.”
“No,” Ren and Kishan admonished at the same time.
“See how protective they are? This battle will be memorable.”
Biting my lip, I came to a decision. “Alright. I’ll watch this time— under one condition. You two,” I pointed to the twins, “have to make it a fair fight. No . . . dematerializing or throwing them over the cliff.”
The Lords of the Flame shrugged.
“It will be fair,” Wyea said, “but you will accept the winners without argument, whomever they may be. Agreed?”
“Wait a second, Kells,” Ren started.
“Agreed,” I announced and shook their hands before Ren or Kishan could intervene. “But understand one thing . . . you cheat and it’s no holds barred. I get to use all the power at my disposal on you.”
“We accept.” Wyea grinned and boldly stroked my cheek.
With a grunt I shoved his hand away. “You haven’t won anything yet so keep your hands to yourself.”
The twin brothers laughed then disappeared, and a trumpet was sounded.
“I guess that means it’s time,” I mumbled. I kissed Kishan on the cheek and whispered, “That’s for good luck.”
He smiled, and I turned to Ren. “
Bhagyashalin
, Ren.”
“See you on the other side, Kells.”
I pressed my lips to his cheek. “Be careful,” I admonished as I brushed the hair from his eyes, and the two men I loved headed into battle with the Lords of the Flame.
As they walked away, I wondered if my promise to remain on the sidelines would end up costing one or both of them their lives.
R
en and Kishan moved into position. Wyea made the first move and charged at Ren with his deadly spear. He spun at the last moment, and the morning star struck Ren’s shield with a loud clash. Ren attacked with his sword, but the heavy weapon only glanced off Wyea’s armguard.
Kishan and Shala circled each other until, with a battle cry, Kishan attacked. He went straight for Shala’s head. The fire Lord parried with the edge of his staff, but Kishan’s blow was so powerful that Shala staggered back a few steps and had to readjust his helmet. Then he smiled, twirled his staff a few times, and hit Kishan so hard that Kishan spun off balance.
Quick as a bullet, Shala rolled his weapon across his shoulders and jabbed the sharp end into the unprotected spot where the armor met at Kishan’s shoulder. Kishan grunted and moved away. The blade came out slick with Kishan’s blood.
Shala laughed and called out, “I drew first blood, brother.”
“But I will have the first defeat,” Wyea boasted.
He’d been effectively clubbing Ren’s shield until it was bent with the force of his attacks, and when Ren made a risky move to plunge his sword into Wyea’s chest, the Lord simply disappeared and reappeared next to Ren. With a mighty blow from the fire Lord, Ren’s shield flew from his grasp and he fell to one knee.
I shouted, “That’s cheating!” but they ignored me.
Deftly, Ren rolled away from his opponent and stood ready with his sword in one hand and the trident in the other. He struck away the spear with his sword and shot darts with the trident. The missiles dented Wyea’s armor and one grazed his neck. Wyea touched the wound and rubbed the wet blood between his fingers.
“So you have some claws after all!”
“You have no idea,” Ren responded and charged.
Wyea renewed his attack.
Meanwhile, Kishan leapt over Shala’s blade as he swept Kishan’s feet. The other end of the staff was racing in a perfect arc to decapitate Kishan, but Kishan raised his shield and fortunately the weapon glanced off. With Shala’s back turned, Kishan stabbed him under the arm, twisting his sword as he withdrew. Shala cried out and spun angrily, raising his weapon over his head.
Shala brought his weapon down with a heavy clash—just as Kishan’s sword rose to meet it. The two men shoved off each other, and Shala threw a fire ball at Kishan’s head. Kishan ducked and launched the
chakram
into the air. It struck Shala’s back on its return and imbedded itself into his armor.
Enraged, Shala yanked the
chakram
out and dropped it onto the black soil. His blood coated the sharp edge.
“Now we’re even,” Kishan said.
Shala sneered. “You won’t be saying that when I take your woman.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“You forget. I’m immortal. Your lifetimes are as the blink of an eye to me.”
Shala snapped the flat side of the blade across Kishan’s neck in a mocking blow. Kishan fell to the ground, grabbed the
chakram
, and did a kick-stand, ending with the
chakram
positioned across the fire Lord’s throat.
“Here’s some news,” Kishan said, “I’m immortal too, and I’ll remove your head in the blink of an eye before I let you anywhere near Kelsey.” He pressed the
chakram
into Shala’s throat. “Now . . . do you concede?” he asked.
The Lord of the Flame smiled. “Fire never concedes.”
Shala’s body grew red hot, but still Kishan held on though he grunted in pain. The skin on the fire Lord’s face sizzled and his entire body turned black. A stiff wind blew around him and the ashes of his form were swept to a new location a short distance from Kishan. There the ashes swirled into the shape of the man and, with the snap of his fingers, he was whole once more. Shala had cheated again.
“Nice trick,” Kishan admitted.
Shala smiled. “It comes in handy. Now where were we? Ah, I was about to kill you and take your woman.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
Kishan ran, flipping over the fire Lord entirely, twisting in the air and attempting to carve Shala’s back as he came down, but Shala sidestepped before Kishan made contact. As Kishan landed nimbly on his feet, Shala whipped his staff in a windmill, attacking with a flurry of strikes until Kishan staggered under the assault and dropped his shield. With a triumphant shout, Shala thrust the sharp edge of his blade into the middle of Kishan’s breastplate. Kishan’s armor seemed to stop the weapon, or at least most of its progress. Shala was unable to dislodge the staff so Kishan wrapped his hands around it and held on. The two engaged in a tug-of-war for the staff until finally Kishan raised the
chakram
and brought it down, severing it.
Shala reeled away with the broken piece of his weapon while Kishan yanked the other piece from his armor. It made an awful shearing sound. His hands shook, and I gasped when I saw the tip was covered with blood. Panting, he bent over and threw the broken end of the staff at the fire Lord’s feet.
Furious, Shala picked up his ruined weapon and circled Kishan. “Did you think this would stop me? I
told
you! Fire . . . doesn’t . . . yield!”
Flames shot down his arms and ignited the pieces of the staff. He twirled them, one in each hand and attacked again.
Another burst of flame from the other side of the field caught my attention. Ren had wrestled Wyea to the ground, and the two were rolling dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Ren’s sword and trident were missing, and the
Gáe Bolga
was nowhere to be seen. The fire Lord stopped them at the cliff edge and pressed Ren’s head back as if trying to push him over.
Chunks of broken turf cascaded over the side and dropped to the valley floor far below. Ren brought up his hands and wrapped them around Wyea’s throat. With a mighty shove, Ren rolled the two of them away from the cliff and proceeded to strangle Wyea. But the twin Lord brought his palms up to Ren’s chest and a stream of fire shot out from each hand like a flamethrower. Crying out, Ren rolled away and got to his feet. His armor was smoking and charred.
Wyea stood, cracked his neck, and said, “I think it’s time we made this more interesting.”
The ground began to shake. Wyea mumbled something and raised his hands slowly into the air. As black soil cracked, sooty puffs exhaled all over the ground, leaving the arena riddled with holes. Still the fire Lord chanted.
Shala shoved Kishan to the ground near his brother. They looked down on my tigers with a maniacal gleam in their eyes. The arena shifted. All four fighters rose into the air, positioned on top of black poles that emerged from the ground. The battlefield looked like the bulletin board in the language lab at Western Oregon University where Artie worked— no notes, just hundreds of pins placed in perfect symmetry, Artie style. For a minute, I almost wished we were back in the safety of my hometown, where my biggest foe was Artie and his datebook planner.
Each pillar was no bigger than six inches in diameter and positioned two feet apart on every side. I walked up to the wall of posts high above my head and rubbed my fingers against one. It was blackish brown in color and as smooth and shiny as glass. Looking at my tigers perched precariously above reminded me of the crane move from
The Karate Kid
. But I knew this was no movie, and it was going to take a lot more than just the power of the underdog to win a happy ending.
Wasting no time, I asked the Scarf to weave a ladder between two pillars and scrambled up quickly. When I reached the top, I carefully placed each foot on a post and balanced my weight between them. A burst of flame hit Ren, and he fell between the black posts. Worried, I scanned the dangerous path ahead and saw the twin Lords gleefully balancing on their respective poles while Kishan jumped from pillar to pillar to get to Ren.
Kishan lay across the top of several posts, steadied himself, and held out a hand.
“Jump!” he shouted.
With a tremendous effort, he pulled Ren up between the obsidian trunks and rolled to the side to make room for his brother.
As Ren got to his feet, he touched a place on his chest and his armor folded up and shrunk back into a brooch form. Kishan hooked his
chakram
onto his belt and did the same thing. The Lords of the Flame bowed in a mocking way and with the snap of their fingers, their armor disappeared as well.
Kishan waved his golden sword, but the only weapon Ren had left was the trident. The fire Lords moved closer. Ren jumped from pole to pole and executed an aerial corkscrew. His feet impacted solidly with Shala’s chest, causing the fire twin to fall heavily atop the columns. Ren landed with perfect balance and resumed a fighting stance. Shala almost fell between the pillars but clutched the top of one and rolled to his feet.