Tiger's Quest (45 page)

His back was turned toward me as he tested a knot of the hammock. “I just thought it would be better to . . .” He turned around and gave me a potent, steamy look. His golden eyes widened, and he quickly busied himself with knots again. Clearing his throat, he said, “It’s definitely better for you to sleep by yourself this time, Kells. I’ll be comfortable over here.”

I shivered and tried to pretend Kishan’s gaze hadn’t affected me. “Suit yourself.”

Kishan got into his hammock, laying back with his hands behind his head. He watched me as I pulled back the sheets.

I heard him say softly, “You look really . . . beautiful, by the way.”

I turned toward him, lifted an arm, and ran my hand down the blue silk robe with long fairy sleeves. I knew that my hair hung down in supple waves and my pale skin gleamed from a vigorous scrubbing and the sparkling lotions of the Silvanae. Perhaps I did look beautiful, but I felt hollow, as empty as a plastic Easter egg. Colorfully, perhaps even elaborately decorated on the outside, but there was nothing in my center. I was drained to the core. “Thank you,” I said mechanically as I climbed into the bed.

I lay awake staring at the stars for a long time. I could feel Kishan’s eyes on me as I tucked a hand under my cheek and finally drifted to sleep.

I dreamt of nothing. Not of Ren, not of myself, not Kishan or even Mr. Kadam . . . I dreamed of emptiness. A great blackness filled my mind, a void. A space with no shape, no depth, no richness, and no
happiness
. I woke before Kishan. Without Ren, my life meant nothing. It was empty, hollow, and worthless. That was what the Grove of Dreams was trying to tell me. Too much was gone.

When my parents died, it was like two mighty trees had been uprooted. Ren had come into my life and had filled the empty landscape of my heart. My heart had healed, and the dry ground had been replaced by soft grass, lovely sandalwood trees, climbing jasmine, and roses. Right in the center of everything was a water fountain surrounded by tiger lilies, a beautiful place where I could sit and feel warmth and peace and love. Now the fountain was shattered, the lilies uprooted, the trees toppled, and there just wasn’t enough soil left to grow anything else. I was barren, desolate—a desert incapable of sustaining life.

A soft breeze stirred my hair and blew strands of it across my face. I didn’t bother pushing them aside. I didn’t hear Kishan get up. I just felt his fingertips brush against my face as he lifted the strands from my cheek and tucked them behind an ear.

“Kelsey?”

I didn’t respond. My unblinking eyes stared at the brightening dawn sky.

“Kells?”

He slid his hands under my body and picked me up. Then he sat on the bed and hugged me to his chest.

“Kelsey, please say something. Talk to me. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

He rocked me for a while. I could hear him and respond to him in my mind, but I felt detached from my environment, from my body.

I felt a raindrop hit my cheek, and the shock of it woke me, brought me to the surface. I lifted a hand and brushed the drop away.

“Is it raining? I didn’t think it rained here.”

He didn’t answer. Another drop splashed on my forehead.

“Kishan?” I looked at him and realized it wasn’t rain but tears.

His golden eyes were full of watery tears.

Puzzled, I lifted a hand to his cheek. “Kishan? Why are you crying?”

He smiled weakly. “I thought you were lost, Kells.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me. What did you see to take you so far away from me? Did you see Ren?”

“No. I saw nothing. My dreams were filled with cold blackness. I think it means he’s dead.”

“No. I don’t think so, Kells. I saw Ren in my dreams.”

Vitality surged back into my limbs. “
You saw him? Are you sure?
”

“Yes. We were arguing on a boat, actually.”

“Could it be a dream from the past?”

“No. We were on a modern yacht. In fact, it’s the yacht that belongs to us.”

I sat up straighter. “Are you absolutely 100 percent certain that this happens in the future?”

“I’m sure.”

I hugged him and kissed his cheeks and forehead. I punctuated each kiss with “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“Wait, Kells. The thing is, in the dream, we were arguing about—”

I laughed, grabbed his shirt, and shook him lightly, crazed with giddy relief.
He was alive!
“I don’t care what you were arguing about. You two always argue.”

“But I think I should tell you—”

I hopped off his lap and began moving quickly, gathering our things. “Tell me later. There’s no time now. Let’s get going. What are we waiting for? A tiger needs to be rescued. Come on. Come on!”

I darted around with crazed energy. A desperate, fevered determination filled my mind. Every minute we delayed meant more pain for the one I loved. The dream of Ren had been real. I wouldn’t have thought up new words in Hindi by myself, especially an endearment his father has used for his mother. I had been with him somehow. I had touched him, kissed him. Something had broken our connection, but he was still alive! He could be saved. In fact, he
would
be saved! Kishan had seen the future!

The Silvanae prepared a sumptuous breakfast, but we took it to go, hurried through good-byes, and headed back toward the spirit gate. It took two days of fast hiking to get to the gate following the directions the Silvanae had given us. Kishan said very little on the trip, and I was too wrapped up in thoughts of finding Ren to find out why.

Upon reaching the gate, I asked the Divine Scarf to create new winter gear for us, and after changing, I summoned my lightning power and placed my hand in the carved depression on the side of the gate. My skin glowed, becoming translucent and pink as the gateway shimmered and opened. We looked at each other, and I suddenly felt sad— as if we were saying good-bye. Kishan removed his glove and pressed a warm palm to my cheek as he studied my face soberly. I smiled and hugged him.

I’d meant it to be brief, but he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I disentangled myself ungracefully, replaced my glove, and stepped through the gate into a sunny day on Mount Everest. My winter boots crunched on the white sparkling snow as Kishan stepped through and changed into the black tiger.

A
fter we passed through the gate, I turned to watch the land of Shangri-la vanish in a swirl of color. The red light that pulsed in the handprint faded, and the spirit gate returned to its former appearance— two tall wooden poles with long strings of prayer flags blowing in the breeze.

I blinked several times and rubbed my eyes lightly. Something was sticking to my lashes. I carefully peeled away a transparent green film, which had slipped off each eye like a pair of contact lenses.

Kishan appeared to be stuck in tiger form and probably would be for a while like Ren had been after Kishkindha. He blinked his eyes at me, and I could see the green film peeling away from one eye.

“Hold very still. I’ve got to get this out or it will bother you the whole way.”

I lifted the film off one eye and then the other. It took a long time, but I was proud I could do it at all. The Ocean Teacher had said that as we exited Shangri-la the scales would fall from our eyes, and we could see the real world again. I didn’t expect his words would be this literal.

I adjusted the backpack over my shoulders and began the steep descent back to Mr. Kadam’s camp. The sun was shining, but it was still cold. I felt the same burning energy pushing me forward. I wouldn’t stop to rest, though Kishan clearly wanted me to. I encouraged him to keep going and stopped only when it was too dark to see the landscape.

Since Hugin had helped me get my thoughts
unstuck
, my mind had become limpid, clear. I calculated and devised a plan. I knew how to save Ren. The only thing I didn’t know was
where
to find him. I hoped that Mr. Kadam would know something about the culture or the whereabouts of the people we had seen in the vision.

The physical features I’d taken note of might not be enough for him to go on, but it was all we had. If anyone could figure out where to begin searching, it was Mr. Kadam. I also hoped that time had stood still, or at least slowed, while we were in Shangri-la. I was sure that Ren would be tormented every moment he was with Lokesh. It was unbearable thinking of him being in pain at all, let alone for the many days we’d spent in the world beyond the spirit gate.

I lay awake in our tent that night for a long while thinking about my strategy and analyzing it from as many angles as I could. I would not allow Lokesh to take anyone else. There would be no trades for Ren. We were going to save him and all of us would be going home.

The next morning, Kishan woke and changed to a man. I quickly had snow gear made for him, and he dressed in the tent while I got some breakfast together. He soon joined me dressed in his new clothes: a rust colored base-layer shirt that fit tightly under a black waterproof jacket, black pants with elastic cuffs, warm insulated gloves, thick wool socks, and snow boots. I appraised his appearance and congratulated myself on doing a good job.

We discovered that recovering the Scarf had given Kishan another six hours of freedom from his tiger self. We were now halfway finished with our quest. The tigers could take human form for twelve hours of the day.

Though I was in a hurry, Kishan reminded me that it would take us at least two full days to hike down the mountain. When we made camp the second night, I decided it was time to talk to him about my rescue plan and show him what else the Scarf could do.

After we’d settled in our tent, conveniently made by the Scarf, I unzipped my sleeping bag and spread it on the floor. I encouraged him to sit across from me, before I picked up the Scarf.

“Okay, the Scarf can do several things. It can become or create anything made of fabric or natural fibers. It doesn’t have to reabsorb what it creates. It can, but it can also leave the thing behind, and then the creation loses the magic of the cloth. The Scarf can also be shaped to gather the winds like in the story of the Japanese god Fũjin’s bag. The third thing it can be used for is . . . changing appearance.”

“Changing appearance? What do you mean?”

“Umm, how do I describe it? Have you ever seen a magician pull a rabbit out of a hat or change a bird into a feather?”

“We did have magicians come to court occasionally. One of them changed a mouse to a dog.”

“Yes! It’s similar to that. It’s an illusion. A trick done with light and mirrors, sort of.”

“How does that work?”

“Remember the Divine Weaver said there was power in the weaving? It not only creates the clothes of that person, but it can make you look like him or her as well. The key is, you have to be specific and capture in your mind exactly who you want to look like. I’m going to try it. Watch and tell me if it works.”

I said, “Disguise, please—Nilima.”

The Scarf grew into a long piece of sparkly black fabric with colors swirling quickly through the entire piece. It glittered as if embellished with jeweled sequins that surfaced briefly and then disappeared. Light reflected and moved around the tent like thousands of prisms shooting rainbows in every direction.

I wrapped the fabric around my body and covered my entire frame, including my hair and face. My skin became warm and tingly. The swirling colors were iridescent and lit the dark small space in which I sat wrapped inside the warm blanket the Scarf had become. It was like watching my own personal laser light show. When the glow diminished, I unwrapped myself and looked at Kishan.

“Well?”

His mouth opened in shock. “
Kells
?”

“Yep.”

“You . . . you even
sound
like Nilima. You’re dressed like her.”

I looked down and found I was wearing a powder-blue silk dress that ended at my knees. My legs were bare. “I just realized that. I’m freezing!”

Kishan wrapped his coat around me then picked up my hand and examined it. “Your skin looks like hers. You even have her long painted nails. Unbelievable!”

I shivered. “Okay, demonstration done. I am seriously freezing.” I wrapped the fabric around me again and said, “Back to myself, please.” The colors began swirling again and after a long minute I removed the material and returned to looking like myself. “Now you try, Kishan. I didn’t have a mirror. I want to see how accurate it is.”

“Okay.” He took the Scarf from me and said, “Disguise— Mr. Kadam.”

He wrapped it around his entire body. When he took the fabric off a minute later, I found myself sitting across from Mr. Kadam. He looked exactly like I had last seen him. I stretched out a finger and touched his short beard.

“Wow! You really look like him!” I felt the hem of his pants. “The pants feel real. It’s a perfect replica!”

He touched his face and rubbed a hand over his close-cropped hair.

I said, “Wait a minute! You’ve even got his amulet on! Does it feel real?”

He touched the amulet and felt the chain. “It looks real, but it’s not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wore an amulet for most of my life, and when I gave you mine to wear, I could feel its absence. This one doesn’t feel real to me. It doesn’t feel powerful. Also it’s lighter in weight, and the surface is slightly different.”

“Hmm, that’s interesting. I don’t know that I can really feel the power of mine yet.”

I reached over and touched the amulet around his neck and then compared it to mine. “I think the one you are wearing is made of some kind of fabric.”

“Really?” He rubbed it between his fingers. “You’re right. The surface is slightly off. You really can’t feel the amulet’s power?”

“No.”

“Well, if you wore it for as many years as I did, you would feel it.”

“Maybe it’s something only you tigers can feel because you’re so closely associated with it.”

“Maybe. We’ll have to ask Mr. Kadam about it.”

Kishan changed back to himself. “So what exactly is your plan, Kells?”