Tiger's Quest (27 page)

The moon had disappeared behind the clouds, and the temple walls and floors were covered with the same grime and dust as when we entered. Kishan took my hand again, and together we stepped out into the dark night.

W
e met Mr. Kadam outside the temple. When we asked if he’d noticed the statue moving, he said that he hadn’t. He hadn’t felt the wind either. I told him that he should come with us next time. He always took the look-out position and said he had assumed that Durga would appear only for me and the tigers. He thought that his presence might deter us from our course.

I teased, “Of course, if you did come along, you’d probably fall under Durga’s spell the way Kishan did, and then I’d have to bring
both
of you out of your love stupor.”

Kishan scowled at me while Mr. Kadam’s face lit up with delight. “The goddess is beautiful, then?”

I responded, “She’s
okay
.”

Kishan began gushing, “Her beauty surpasses all other women. Her ruby lips, soft limbs, and long dark hair would be enough to cause any man to lose control of his faculties.”

I scoffed, “Oh,
please!
Exaggerate much?
Ren
never reacted that way.”

Kishan glared at me. “Perhaps
Ren
had a
reason
to look elsewhere.”

Mr. Kadam laughed. “I would very much like to meet her if it will work.”

“It can’t hurt to try. The worst that could happen is nothing, and then you could always leave, and we’d try it again.”

After we returned to the hotel, we showed Mr. Kadam our new weapons. Kishan was going on and on about
the goddess this
and
the goddess that
and was twisting his discus in the light so the gleaming gold reflected on the walls of the hotel room. I listened for a while and heard Mr. Kadam talking about how the discus represented the sun, which was the source of all life and that the circle was a symbol of the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. I stopped listening, so I could tune out Kishan’s constant praising of Durga and her lovely feminine features, which practically made me gag.

I leaned in the door frame between their connecting rooms, rolled my eyes, and during a break in Kishan’s Durga tribute, mocked, “Are you going to yell like Xena when you throw the discus? No! Even better. We’ll buy you a leather kilt.”

Kishan’s golden eyes turned to me. “I hope your arrows are as sharp as your tongue, Kelsey.”

He walked toward me. I stood my ground, blocking his way, but he just picked me up and moved me to the side. Leaving his hands on my arms for a moment, he leaned over and whispered, “
Perhaps
you are jealous,
bilauta
.” Then he closed the connecting door behind him, leaving me alone with Mr. Kadam.

Flustered, I flopped into a chair and muttered, “I am
not
jealous.”

Mr. Kadam looked at me thoughtfully, “No you’re not. At least not in the way he might hope.”

I sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“You’re protecting him.”

I snorted. “Protecting him from what? His own delusions?”

He laughed. “No. You clearly care for him. You want him to find happiness. And because Ren isn’t here, all of your maternal instincts are focused on Kishan.”

“I don’t think what I feel for Ren is maternal.”

“Of course, it is. Well, a part of it is, anyway. Do you remember what the weaver told you about the different threads?”

“Yes. She said I’m the warp.”

“Exactly. Ren’s and Kishan’s threads weave around you. Without your strength, the fabric couldn’t be complete.”

“Hmm.”

“Miss Kelsey, do you know much about lions?”

“No. Not really.”

“A male lion cannot hunt for himself. Without the female, he would die.”

“I’m not sure I’m getting the point.”

“My point is that a lion without a lioness dies. Kishan needs you. Perhaps even more than Ren does.”

“But I can’t be all things to both brothers.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just saying that Kishan needs . . . hope. Something to hold onto.”

“I can be his friend. I’ll even
hunt
for him. But, I love
Ren
. I won’t give up on him.”

Mr. Kadam patted my hand. “A friend, someone who cares about him and loves him and won’t let him give up on himself, is what Kishan needs.”

“But isn’t that what
you’ve
done for him all these years?”

He chuckled. “Oh, yes. Of course. But a young man needs a young
woman
who believes in him. Not a crusty old man.”

I got up and hugged him. “
Crusty
and
old
are two words I’d never use to describe you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Kelsey. We leave early in the morning, so get some rest.”

When I dreamed that night, it was of both brothers. They were standing in front of me, and Lokesh was ordering me to choose which one would live and which one would die. Ren smiled sadly and nodded toward Kishan. Kishan’s face tightened, and he looked away from me knowing that I wouldn’t pick him. I was still pondering my choice when the courtesy wake-up call startled me.

I packed up my bags and met Mr. Kadam and Kishan in the lobby. We drove in silence about ten miles to Kathmandu, the largest city and capital of Nepal. Kishan and I sat in the Jeep while Mr. Kadam went into a building to finalize paperwork for our trip through the Himalayas.

“Uh, Kishan? I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for acting like a jerk yesterday. If you want to fall in love with a goddess then, by all means, go for it.”

He snorted, “I’m not falling in love with a goddess, Kells. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, still. I wasn’t being very sensitive.”

He shrugged. “Women don’t like hearing men talk about other women. It was rude of me to go on like that. Honestly, I only praised her beauty so much to get a rise out of
you
.”

I turned around in my seat. “What? Why would you do that?”

“I
wanted
you to be jealous, and when you weren’t, it . . . bothered me.”

“Oh. Kishan, you know I still feel—”

“I know. I know. You don’t have to remind me. You still love Ren.”

“Yes. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you. I’m
your
warp too. Remember?”

His face brightened. “That’s true.”

“Good, don’t forget that. We’re all going to have happy endings, okay?”

I reached a hand back to him, and he held it in both of his and grinned. “Promise?”

I smiled back at him. “Promise.”

“Good. I’ll hold you to that. Maybe I should get it in writing. I,
Kelsey
, promise
Kishan
that he will get the happy ending he seeks. Should I define the parameters for you now?”

“Uh, no. I’d like to keep it vague for the time being.”

“Fine. Meanwhile, I will create a mental list of what constitutes a happy ending and get back to you.”

“You do that.” He kissed my fingers brazenly, holding them tightly while I struggled to pull my hand out of his grip.

“Kishan!”

He laughed as he finally let me go and then changed to a tiger before I could verbally chastise him.

“Coward,” I muttered as I turned back in my seat. I heard him growl softly but ignored him.

I seriously racked my brain for the next few minutes trying to find a happy ending for Kishan. At this point, my own happy ending wasn’t even a guarantee. The best I could come up with was finishing the four tasks, so the brothers didn’t have to be tigers anymore. I hoped that by the time we finished them, the happy endings would sort of take care of themselves.

Mr. Kadam returned and said, “We’ve received permission to take the Friendship Highway tour route to Tibet. It’s something of a miracle.”

“Wow. How did you manage it?”

“A high government official in China owes me a favor.”

“How high?”

“The highest. Still, we have to stick to the tour stops and check in at each place along the way so they can keep tabs on us. We leave immediately. Our first stop is Neyalam, which is about 150 kilometers from here. It should take us about five hours just to hit the Chinese/Nepal border.”

“Five hours? Wait a minute, 150 kilometers? That’s roughly ninety miles. That’s only eighteen miles per hour. Why does it take so long?”

Mr. Kadam chuckled. “You’ll see.”

He handed me the tour guide, map, and brochures so I could follow along and help him navigate. I thought the Rockies were huge, but comparing the Himalayas with the Rockies was like comparing the Rockies with the Appalachians, literally mountains to molehills. The peaks were thick with snow, even though it was early May.

Stark rocky glaciers rose up before us, and Mr. Kadam told me the landscape becomes tundra and then permanent ice and snow a little higher. Trees were small and scattered. The ground was mostly covered with grasses, dwarf shrubs, and moss. He said there were some conifer forests in other parts of the Himalayas, but we would be passing mostly through the grasslands.

When he said, “you’ll see,” he wasn’t kidding. We were climbing at about ten miles per hour into the mountains. The road wasn’t exactly up to standard, and we bumped and weaved around potholes and sometimes herds of yaks and sheep.

To pass the time, I asked Mr. Kadam about the first company he bought into.

“That would be the East India Trading Company. It was started before I was born in the early 1600s, but it became a very big business by the mid–eighteenth century.”

“What kinds of things did you trade?”

“Oh, lots of things. Cloth—silk mostly—tea, indigo, spices, saltpeter, and opium.”

I teased him, “Mr. Kadam! You were a drug dealer?”

He winced. “Not in the current definition of the word, no. Remember, opium was touted as medicinal then, but I did transport the drug in the beginning. I owned several ships and funded large caravans. When China banned the opium trade, triggering the Opium Wars, I stopped shipping it and focused most of my business in the spice trade.”

“Huh. Is that why you like grinding your own spices so much?”

He smiled. “Yes, I still like to look for the best quality products and enjoy using them in my cooking.”

“So you’ve always been in the cargo business then.”

“I guess I have. I never really thought about it that way.”

“Okay, I have two questions for you. Do you still have a ship? I know you kept a plane from that company, but do you still have a ship? Because that would be so cool. The second question is what’s saltpeter?”

“Saltpeter is also known as potassium nitrate. It was used to make gunpowder and is also, ironically, a food preservative. And, in answer to your other question, the boys
do
own a boat, but not one of my original shipping boats.”

“Oh. What kind of a boat?”

“A small yacht.”

“Ah. I should’ve guessed.”

We stopped near the China/Nepal border in a city called Zhangmu where we had to fill out paperwork again. Then, after a day of driving and traveling only a total of ninety-six miles, we drove into Neyalam and checked into a small overnight guesthouse.

The next day we climbed even higher. The brochure said that by the end of the day we’d be above thirteen thousand feet. On this section of the drive, we saw six of the major mountains in the Himalayas, including Mount Everest, and stopped to take in the magnificent view of Mount Xixapangma.

On day three, I started feeling a little sick, and Mr. Kadam said he thought I had altitude sickness. He explained that it was common when traveling higher than twelve thousand feet. “It should pass. Most people adjust within a few hours, but for some it can take several days for their body to acclimate to the elevation.”

I groaned and tilted my seat back to rest my dizzy head. The rest of the day went by in a blur. I was disappointed that I couldn’t appreciate the scenery. We drove to Xigatse, where Mr. Kadam and Kishan saw the Tashilumpo Monastery while I stayed in the small hotel.

When they returned with dinner for me, I rolled over and waved them away. Mr. Kadam left, but Kishan stayed.

“I don’t like seeing you sick, Kells. What can I do?”

“Uh, I don’t think there’s anything you
can
do.”

He left me alone for a minute. Soon he was back pressing a damp cloth to my forehead.

“Here, I brought you some lemon water. Mr. Kadam said it helps to hydrate.”

Kishan forced me to drink the entire glass and then poured another glassful from the bottled water they’d bought. He finally let me stop after my third glass.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better, thanks. Except my head is pounding. Do we have any aspirin?”

Kishan found a small bottle. I downed two, sat forward, placing my elbows on my knees, and massaging my temples with my fingers.

He watched me quietly for a moment, and then said, “Here, let me help.”

Kishan scooted me forward a little so he could sit behind me. He placed his warm hands on the sides of my head and started massaging my temples. After a few minutes, he moved into my hair and down the back of my neck, kneading away the stiffness that came from sitting immobile in a car for three days.

When he got to my shoulders, I asked, “Where did you and Ren learn to give massages? You’re both very good at it.”

He stopped for a moment and then slowly began again as he spoke. “I didn’t know Ren had given you a massage. Mother taught us. It was something she’d been trained in.”

“Oh. Well, it feels fantastic. Your hands are so warm they feel like heating pads. My headache’s almost gone now.”

“Good. Lie down and relax. I’m going to do your arms and feet.”

“You really don’t have to. I’m feeling better now.”

“Just relax. Close your eyes and let your mind drift. Mother taught us that massage can take away the pains of the body and the spirit.” He started working on my left arm and spent a long time on my hand.

“Kishan? What was it like being a tiger for all those years?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment. I cracked open an eye and looked at him. He was focusing on the space between my thumb and forefinger. His golden eyes flicked over to my face.