Tiger's Quest (49 page)

I got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around my body. I heard a splash and felt his nearness as he also dried off.

Kishan turned me to face him, willing me to meet his eyes. “You need to know that this is not about me competing with him. It’s not about some hidden agenda. It’s not a crush.” He brushed his thumbs across my cheeks and cupped the sides of my face. “I love you, Kelsey.”

He took a step closer.

I placed my hand on his warm chest and said, “If you
really
love me, then don’t kiss me again.” I stood my ground and waited for his reply. It wasn’t easy. I felt like running, escaping to my room, but we needed to settle this between us.

He stood there breathing deeply. He looked down, and I could see flashes of emotion cross his face. Then he raised his eyes to mine. He acquiesced and said, “I won’t promise that I’ll never kiss you again, but I will promise not to kiss you unless I’m sure that you and Ren are through.”

I was about to protest when he continued.

He touched my face lightly. “I’m not the kind of man to bottle up my feelings, Kells. I don’t sit up in my room pining away, writing love poems. I’m not a dreamer. I’m a fighter. I’m a man of action, and it will take
all
of my self-control not to fight for this. When something needs to be done, I do it. When I feel something, I act on it. I don’t see any reason why Ren deserves to get the girl of his dreams and I don’t. It doesn’t seem fair that this happens to me twice.”

I put my hand on his arm. “You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you’ve had to be with me night and day for the past few weeks. It’s not fair to ask you to set aside your feelings. It’s not fair to ask you to be my friend when you feel this way. But, the fact is, I need you. I need your help. I need your support. And, I especially need your friendship. I wouldn’t have survived one day in Shangri-la without you. I don’t think I can rescue Ren without you, either. It’s not fair to ask, but I’m asking.
Please.
I need you to let me go.”

He looked at the house, brooding for a moment, and then at me. He touched my wet hair and discontentedly said, “Alright. I’ll back off, but I’m not doing it for him and definitely not doing it for me. I’m doing it for you. Remember that.”

I nodded silently and watched him stalk off to the veranda. My knees buckled, and I sat down hard on the pool chair.

I spent the rest of the day in my room studying texts on the Baiga. I kept rereading sections. I felt divided, torn. I was confused. I felt like someone had asked me to pick which parent would live and which would die. Whichever choice I made, I would feel responsible for the death of the other one. It wasn’t about choosing happiness; it was about choosing suffering. Which one would I make suffer?

I didn’t want
either
of them to suffer. My happiness was irrelevant. This wasn’t like breaking up with Li or Jason. Ren needed me, loved me. But Kishan did too. There was no easy choice, no answer that would appease both of them. I pushed the books aside, picked up one of Ren’s poems and a Hindi/English dictionary. It was one of the poems he’d written after I left India. It took me a long time to translate it, but it was worth it.

Am I alive?

I can breathe

I can feel

I can taste

But the air doesn’t fill my lungs

All textures are rough

All tastes are muted

Am I alive?

I can see

I can hear

I can sense

But the world is black and white

Voices sound tinny and small

What I sense is confusing and out of place

When you’re with me

Air rushes into my being

Fills me with light

And happiness

I
am
alive!

The world is full of color and sound

Tastes tantalize my palate

Everything is soft and fragrant

I sense the warmth of your presence

I know who I am and what I want

I
want
you.

Ren

A giant tear fell with a splat on the paper. I quickly moved it out of teardrop range. Despite Kishan’s heartfelt words and the confusion about my relationship with him, there was one thing I couldn’t deny. I
loved
Ren. Wholeheartedly. The truth was, if Ren had been here, been with me, this wouldn’t be an issue.

When he was with me, I
also
knew who I was and what I wanted. Even without the strong connection, I could feel my heart swell at his words. I could picture him saying them, sitting at his desk, and writing them.

If I needed an answer, it was here—in my heart. When I thought of Kishan, I felt confusion and affection, mixed with a dollop of guilt. With Ren, I felt open and light. Free and desperately happy. I
loved
Kishan, but I was
in
love with Ren. How it happened was irrelevant. The fact was, it did happen.

As Kishan had said, I’d been with him longer now than with Ren. It wasn’t surprising that we’d become closer. But, Ren held my heart in his hands. It beat only because he cherished it.

I was determined to be kind to Kishan. I was familiar with heartbreak. Mr. Kadam was right that Kishan needed me too. I had to be firm with him and let him know he was my friend. That I could be anything he needed me to be with the exception of a sweetheart.

I felt better. Reading Ren’s poem grounded me. The feelings he spoke of, I felt too. I tucked the poem into my journal and went downstairs for dinner with Kishan and Mr. Kadam.

Kishan raised an eyebrow when I smiled at him. He turned back to his dinner, and ignoring him, I picked up my fork.

“The fish looks delicious, Mr. Kadam. Thank you.”

He waved a hand in dismissal, leaned forward, and said, “I’m glad you’re here, Miss Kelsey. I have news.”

M
y mouth went dry as I swallowed the fish. I coughed, and Kishan slid a glass of water in my direction. I sipped the cold liquid, cleared my throat, and said nervously, “What news?”

“We’ve found the Baiga tribe, and something is wrong. The tribe is located in a jungle area far away from other villages. Farther than they’ve been in the last hundred years. Farther, in fact, than the law allows them to travel. But what’s even more strange is that the satellite images show technology nearby.”

Kishan asked, “What kind of technology?”

“They have some large vehicles parked near the settlement, and the Baiga don’t use cars. A sizeable structure has been built near their village as well. It’s much larger than anything the Baiga have traditionally constructed. I believe it is a military compound.”

He pushed aside his plate. “Reports show that there are also guards with weapons watching the forest. It looks as if they are defending the Baiga from attack.”

“But who would attack the Baiga from the jungle?” I asked.

Mr. Kadam replied, “Who indeed? There are no skirmishes happening between the Baiga and any other group. The Baiga have no warriors and own nothing of value to the outside world. There is no reason for them to fear attack. Unless they expect it to come in the form of . . .” He looked at Kishan. “A tiger.”

Kishan grunted. “Sounds like you found something alright.”

“But why the Baiga?” I asked. “Why not keep Ren in the city or in a regular military compound?”

Mr. Kadam pulled out some papers. “I think I may know. I placed a call to a friend who is a professor of ancient history at Bangalore University. We’ve had many a great discussion on the kingdoms of ancient India. He is always fascinated by my . . .
insights
. He has studied the Baiga in great detail and has shared some interesting facts with me. First, they are extremely afraid of evil spirits and witches. They believe that any bad events—sickness, a lost crop, a death—are all caused by evil spirits.

“They believe in magic and honor their
gunia
, or medicine man, above all others. If Lokesh had demonstrated magic of some kind, it is likely the people would do anything he asked. They consider themselves guardians or caretakers of the forests. It’s very possible that Lokesh persuaded them to move by convincing them that the forest was in danger and that he has placed guards there to protect it. The other thing he mentioned, and what I found most interesting, is that the
gunia
of the Baiga are rumored to be able to control tigers.”

I gasped, “
What
? How is that possible?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but they are somehow able to protect their villages from tiger attacks. Perhaps Lokesh has found truth in the myth.”

“You think they’re using some kind of magic to keep Ren there?”

“I don’t know, but it surely seems it would be worth our time to investigate, or perhaps infiltrate would be a better word.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“I need a little time to come up with a plan, Miss Kelsey. Our goal is to get everyone out of there alive. Speaking of which, I feel I should share with you two that my informants have disappeared. The men I’ve sent to investigate the penthouse office of the tallest building in Mumbai are gone. They haven’t contacted me, and I fear the worst.”

“Do you mean they’re dead?”

He replied soberly, “They aren’t the type of men to allow themselves to be taken alive. I won’t allow any more men to die in this cause. From now on, we’re on our own.” He looked at Kishan. “We’re at war with Lokesh again in a new century.”

Kishan clenched his fist. “This time, we won’t run away with our tails between our legs.”

“Indeed.”

Clearing my throat, I said, “That’s great for you two, but
I’m
not a warrior. How can we possibly win? Especially when it’s just the three of us against all of his men?”

Kishan put his hand over mine. “You’re as fine a warrior as any I’ve fought with, Kells. Braver even than many I’ve known. Mr. Kadam has been known to come up with strategies when we’ve been outnumbered before that won a battle with ease.”

“If there is one thing I’ve learned in my many years, Miss Kelsey, it’s that careful planning can almost always create a positive outcome.”

Kishan interjected, “And don’t forget, we have many weapons at our disposal.”

“So does Lokesh.”

Mr. Kadam patted my hand. “We have
more
.”

He pulled out a satellite photo and a red pen and began circling items of interest. Then he handed me a piece of paper and a pen. “Shall we get started?”

First, we made a column of our assets, brainstorming how each could be used. Some of the ideas were silly and some had merit. I recorded everything we came up with, not knowing what might turn out to be handy.

Mr. Kadam made a star on the map where he thought Ren might be found. He felt the simplest plans were the easiest to follow, and our plan was pretty straightforward: Sneak in. Find Ren. Get out. Even so, Mr. Kadam made sure to analyze the plan from several different viewpoints.

He prepared for every contingency. He asked dozens of
what if
questions.
What if Kishan can’t enter the compound because he’s a tiger? What if there are tiger traps in the jungle? What if there are more soldiers than we thought? What if we can’t enter from the jungle? What if Ren isn’t there?

He made a separate plan to overcome each problem and still have a successful outcome. Then, he combined problems and drilled Kishan and me on our roles. We had to remember how our roles would switch depending on what problems came up. I felt like I was memorizing every possible ending in a
Choose Your Own Adventure
book.

Mr. Kadam also organized practice runs. We had to test the limits of the Golden Fruit and the Divine Scarf as well as several complicated moves using our weapons. He made us train most of the day in hand-to-hand combat and practice several techniques simultaneously. By the time he let us quit on the first day, I was exhausted. Every muscle hurt, my brain was tired, and I was covered in maple syrup and cotton fluff— a Fruit and Scarf combo test that backfired.

When I said goodnight, I wearily climbed the stairs, took Fanindra off my arm, and set her on the pillow. Mr. Kadam had a plan for her, but she didn’t move when he’d explained it.

We didn’t know if she would do anything, but I was going to bring her along anyway. She’d saved my life enough times to deserve to be in on the action, if nothing else. I watched her golden coils shift and twist until she settled in a circular position with her head resting on the top coil. Her emerald eyes gleamed for a moment and then went dark.

Something fluttered outside the window. My fairy clothes! It seemed there weren’t any fairies here. The clothes still seemed solid enough, but now they just needed a spin in the washing machine. I threw them into my hamper before stepping into a hot shower. As my sore muscles relaxed, I let my thoughts dwell on trivial things, such as wondering if I should wash the fairy clothes in cold or hot water. The shower soothed me until I almost fell asleep on my feet.