Tiger's Quest (26 page)

We entered a small room and stood before a stone wall. I knew the statue of Durga was on the other side, lit up from the streetlights below. The statue was set back about two feet from the outer wall of the temple, and we could stand on either side of it and still be hidden in the shadows.

“Okay, what we did last time was make an offering, ring a bell, ask for wisdom and guidance, and then Ren changed to a tiger. That’s what seemed to work.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

We pulled out all of our air offerings and placed them at the feet of the statue before moving back into the shadows. I lifted my ankle, brushed my fingers across the tinkling bells, and smiled as I thought of Ren.

We moved back from the wall, and Kishan reached for my hand again. I was grateful for his steadiness. Even though I had already seen a stone statue come to life once before, I was still nervous.

“I’ll say something first and then it’ll be your turn.”

He nodded and squeezed my hand.

“Great Goddess Durga, we come seeking your help once again. I ask your blessing as we go in search of the next prize that will help these two princes. Will you grant us your aid and share your wisdom?” I turned to Kishan and nodded my head.

Kishan stood quietly for a moment and then spoke, “I . . . don’t deserve a blessing.” He glanced at me and sighed unhappily before continuing. “What happened is my fault, but I ask you to help my brother. Keep him safe . . . for
her
. Help me protect her on this journey and keep her out of harm’s way.”

He looked at me for acceptance. I leaned up on my tiptoes, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, become a tiger.”

He changed into his tiger form, his dark fur almost disappearing in the shadowy room. A stiff, cold wind ripped through the building and rushed up the stairs. My long-sleeved shirt billowed around me. I dug my hand into the scruff of Kishan’s neck and shouted over the noise of the wind, “This is the scary part!”

The wind swirled dust and sand around us in a cyclone as years of grit blew out of cracks and off the floors. I squinted and covered my mouth and nose with my sleeve. Kishan nudged me back to a corner of the room, sheltering me from the powerful gusts of wind near the open windows of the temple.

I was trapped between him and the wall, which was good because he had to dig his claws in the floor to remain standing. He pressed his body against me. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around Kishan’s neck, burying my face in his fur.

Carvings that had been muted with a covering of dust began to appear. The wind and sand polished the floor until it looked like marble. I put one arm around a pillar to anchor myself and the other around Kishan.

After a while, the wind died down, and I opened my eyes. The room looked dramatically different. Stripped of grime and years of dust, the temple was beautifully glistening. The rising moon cast its light into the room, illuminating it, so that it appeared ethereal and dreamlike. On the back wall behind the statue of Durga, a familiar handprint had appeared. Kishan changed to a man and stood beside me.

He asked, “What happens next?”

“Come on and watch.”

I pulled him after me, placed my hand into the print, and let the energy crackle down my arm and into the wall. A rumbling shook the wall, which made us step away. The wall rotated until it had spun 180 degrees. We were now facing the statue of Durga.

This version of Durga was similar to the other statue I had seen. Her many arms were spread out in a fan around her, and her tiger sat at her feet. There was no boar this time. I heard the sweet tinkling of bells and a beautiful voice said, “Greetings, young one. Your offerings have been accepted.”

All of the items we had placed at her feet shimmered and then disappeared. Sand-colored stone began to shift as Durga’s arms swayed in the air. Stone lips became ruby red and smiled at us. The tiger growled and shook itself. The stone flew away from its form like dust. The creature sneezed and sat at her feet.

Kishan was captivated by the goddess. She shivered delicately, and a small breeze drifted through the building and blew all the dust away from her, uncovering her like a luminous gem buried beneath the sand. Instead of gold, Durga’s skin was soft, pale pink. She relaxed her arms and reached up with an empty hand to take off her golden cap. Luxurious black hair tumbled down her back and over her shoulders.

With a tinkling voice, she said, “Kelsey, my daughter, I’m so glad you were successful in finding the Golden Fruit.”

She turned to look at Kishan, tilted her head, and raised an eyebrow in beautiful confusion.

Lifting a delicate, pink limb, she gestured to Kishan. “But who is this? Where is your tiger, Kelsey?”

Kishan boldly took a step forward and bowed deeply over her outstretched hand. “Dear lady, I am also a tiger.”

He changed into his black tiger form and back. Durga laughed, a happy sound that echoed in the room. Kishan smiled at her. She looked back at me and noticed the snake wrapped around my arm.

“Ah, Fanindra, my pet.”

She gestured to come closer, so I took a few steps forward. Fanindra’s top half came alive, and she stretched her body out to the goddess’s hand. Durga patted the snake’s head fondly.

“There is more work for you to do yet, my dear one. I need you to stay with Kelsey for a little while longer.”

The snake hissed quietly and then relaxed on my arm and became inanimate again, but her green jeweled eyes glowed softly while we spoke.

Durga turned her attention to me. “I sense you are sad and troubled, daughter. Tell me what causes you pain.”

“Ren, the white tiger, has been taken prisoner, and we can’t find him. We were hoping you could help us locate him.”

She smiled at me sadly. “My power is . . . limited. I can counsel you on finding the next object, but I have little time for anything else.”

A tear dropped off my cheek. “But, without him, finding the objects would hold no meaning for me.”

She stretched out a soft hand to my cheek and caught a glistening teardrop. I watched as it hardened and became a twinkling diamond sitting on top of her fingertip. She gave it to Kishan, who was delighted with the gift.

“You must remember, Kelsey, that the quest I send you on doesn’t help only your tigers. It also helps all of India. It is vital that you retrieve the sacred objects.”

I sniffed and wiped my eyes on my sleeve.

She smiled at me sweetly, “Don’t fret, dear one. I promise you that I will watch over your white tiger and keep him from harm and . . . oh . . . I see.” She blinked and stared straight ahead as if she could see something we couldn’t. “Yes . . . the path you take now will help you save your tiger. Guard the object well, and don’t let it or the Golden Fruit fall into the wrong hands.”

“What should we do with the Golden Fruit?”

“For now, it is to help you on your journey. Take it with you and use it wisely.”

“What is the airy prize we seek?”

“To answer that question, there is someone I want you to meet.”

She raised a pink limb and pointed behind us to the back of the room. A rhythmic click-clacking noise drew our attention.

In the moonlit corner of the room sat an old, gnarled woman on a wooden stool. Wisps of her gray hair stuck out of a faded red handkerchief. She wore a simple homespun brown dress with a white apron. A small loom was set in front of her. I watched quietly as she pulled beautiful threads out of a large woven basket and twisted them around the shuttle. The shuttle pulled the threads back and forth through the loom.

After a moment, I asked, “Grandmother, what are you weaving?”

She replied in a kind but weary voice, “The world, my young one. I weave the world.”

“Your threads are beautiful. I’ve never seen colors like those before.”

She cackled, “I use gossamer to make it light, fairy wings to give it sparkle, rainbows to make it iridescent, and clouds to make it soft. Here. Come and feel the fabric.”

I grasped Kishan’s hand, pulling him closer, and then stretched out my fingers to touch the material. It tingled and crackled.

“It has power!”

“Yes. There is great power here, but I must teach you two things about weaving.”

“What is it, Grandmother?”

“These long, vertical threads are called the warp, and these colorful, horizontal ones are called the weft. The warp threads are thick, strong, and often plain, but, without them, the weft has nothing to cling to. Your tigers cling to you; they need you. Without you, they would blow away in the winds of the world.”

I nodded in understanding. “What else do you need to teach me, Grandmother?”

She leaned closer to me and whispered conspiratorially, “Masterful weaving makes exceptional cloth, and I have woven great threads of power into this piece. A good piece of cloth must be versatile. Fulfill many purposes. This one can collect, craft, and cloak. Guard it well.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“There is one more thing. You must learn to take a step back and visualize the whole piece. If you focus only on the thread given to you, you lose sight of what it can become. Durga has the ability to see the piece from beginning to end. You must trust her.

“Don’t allow yourself to become disheartened when the thread doesn’t suit or seems unsightly to you. Wait and watch. Be patient and devoted. As the threads twist and turn, you will begin to understand, and you will see the pattern finally materialize in all its splendor.”

I let go of Kishan’s hand, so I could step closer to the old woman. I kissed her on her soft, wizened cheek and thanked her again. Her eyes twinkled, and the shuttle started moving again. The rhythmic click-clacking noise continued as she slowly faded from sight. Soon, we could hear only the sounds of the loom and then nothing at all.

We turned to face Durga, who was petting her tiger’s head and smiling at us.

“Will you trust that I will look after your tiger, Kelsey?”

“Yes. I will.”

Durga beamed. “Wonderful! Now, before I send you on your way, I will bestow another gift.” She began rotating the weapons in her arms and stopped at the bow and arrow set. She raised the bow, and Kishan stepped forward.

“Patience, my ebony one. I have a gift for you as well, but this . . . is for my daughter.”

She handed me a medium-sized golden bow with a quiver of gold-tipped arrows.

I curtsied, “Thank you, Goddess.”

She turned to Kishan and smiled. “Now, I will choose something for you.”

He bowed deeply and grinned rakishly at her. “I will gladly accept
anything
you offer me, my beautiful goddess.”

I rolled my eyes at him.
Sheesh
.

She nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a little dimple where she twitched her mouth up in a small smile.

I looked at Kishan, who was grinning goofily, bewitched by Durga.
He
was
very handsome. Didn’t Zeus have affairs with mortals? Hmm, I’ll have to ask Mr. Kadam about that when we get back.

Durga handed Kishan a golden discus, and he seemed delighted by it. It even made him bold enough to press a warm kiss on the back of her hand.
Overstep boundaries much?
I wasn’t
jealous
. I was more shocked that he would act that way with a goddess.

The two stared at each other, so I cleared my throat, “
Ah-hem.
So is there anything else we need to know before we head off? We were thinking of Lhasa and the Himalayas. You know, searching for Noah’s ark and Shangri-la.”

Durga blinked and got back to business. Her tinkling voice echoed, “Yesss . . .” her voice started fading, and her limbs returned to their former position. “Beware of the four houses. They will test you. Use what you’ve learned. When you obtain the object, it will help you escape and help you find the one you love. Use it to—”

The goddess froze. Her soft skin hardened into stone.

“Drat! I have to ask her questions
first
the next time we do this!”

Wind blew through the room, and the statue began to move and was soon facing the street outside once more.

“Hello? Earth to Kishan.”

He’d stood watching until Durga was gone from sight. “She is . . . exceptional.”

I snickered. “Yeah. So what is it with you and unattainable women anyway?”

The light faded from his eyes, and he visibly withdrew into himself. He grimaced. “Yes. You’re right, Kelsey.” He laughed at himself dryly. “Maybe I can find a support group.”

I giggled but then became sad. “I’m sorry, Kishan. That wasn’t very nice of me to say.”

Smiling ruefully, he held out his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Kells. I’ve still got you. Remember, you’re my warp and I’m your weft.”

“Yeah. Not too flattering for me, eh?”

“You’re a beautiful warp.”

“Hmm, I don’t think my warp drive is operating within normal parameters.”

He tilted his head, confused. “What’s a warp drive?”

I winced. “Sorry. Dad was a Trekkie. I couldn’t resist.”

“A Trekkie?”

“I’ve got to introduce you to
Star Trek
. It’s a television series
and
not one but several movies. You may like it.” I mumbled, “Too bad Scotty can’t beam us out of this crazy life, huh?”

Kishan’s brows knit together in confusion. He had no idea what I was talking about.

“Just ignore me. Someday, when we’re not fighting demons, I’ll teach you all about science fiction. We’ll start easy. Maybe with
E.T.
”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you say, Kells.”

I teased, “Come on,
ebony one
. Let’s go find Mr. Kadam.”

He grinned. “After you, my lovely.”

I rolled my eyes at him again and headed down the stairs. “Didn’t get enough flirt time in with the goddess, huh? Well, knock it off. It doesn’t work on me, anyway.”

He laughed and followed me downstairs. “Then I’ll keep trying until I find something that does.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Casanova.”

“Who’s Casanova?”

“Never mind.”