Kishan nodded distractedly.
As I linked my arm with Kishan’s, I wondered if this consort thing was truly temporary or if Ren had feelings for Anamika. In his letter, he mentioned a parting. Did he intend to stay here and really become Anamika’s consort? It sure didn’t look like Anamika would object to the idea. I still love Ren. The Phoenix made me acknowledge that. Should I tell him or leave it alone? What if he rejects me and chooses Anamika? Acknowledging I loved him didn’t necessarily mean I’d get him back. She is beautiful. Why would Ren choose me when he could have a goddess? He could be a king, a god standing by her side.
I bit back a quiet sob and acknowledged for the first time that Ren’s destiny might not match with mine. I might not get to keep him in my life at all, even as a friend.
I am going to lose him . . . forever. And what about Kishan? He had promised to always forgive me and he would learn to live with it if I should choose another. If I told him that I’m still in love with Ren, what would he do? Is that much forgiveness even possible? Would he hate me forever? Return to the jungle to live a life of loneliness and isolation?
In that moment, I knew it didn’t matter. It made no difference if Ren decided to be with Anamika or if Kishan ever forgave me. They both needed to know everything. They both needed to be aware of how I felt. I would have to get each of them alone and share what was in my heart. If one or both of them chose to leave me, then I’d just have to deal with it. I couldn’t continue to run away from heartache. I owed them that much. Phet was right when he said both men were good choices. Both of them were noble and brave, handsome and kind, and they deserved more than I had given them.
Kishan stayed by me as I watched the proceedings and told me what everyone was saying. I squeezed his arm, grateful for the good man that he was.
After some political posturing, Anamika asked everyone to gather for a banquet. Tables were brought and with the flourish of her hand, Anamika used the power of the Scarf (which was tied around her wrist) to create the finest of cloths to lay upon them. The threads of the Scarf wove its magic, and the warriors and Anamika’s men gasped in wonder.
I made a small sound of protest and took a step forward, but Kishan held me back.
“What’s done is done, Kelsey. Ren has obviously instructed her in the use of Durga’s gifts.”
Anamika filled the table with plates of food, and the men sitting at the banquet cheered as she moved from place to place, filling cups and trenchers with special treats from each man’s homeland. She then took her place at the head of the table with Ren sitting at her side. He squeezed her hand, and at the same moment, I felt as if something black had squeezed my heart.
A place was made for me and Kishan, and after he pulled out my chair, I sat stiffly. I smiled when someone offered me food and accepted it gratefully, but everything I tasted turned to ash in my mouth, and no amount of drink could wet my dry throat.
I watched Ren and Anamika together and imagined him as her king. The prick of bitter jealousy tore through my heart—and not only because of Ren. I knew that the Divine Scarf and the Golden Fruit were for Durga and that Anamika was or would become Durga, but it was hard letting those gifts go. To give over that kind of power and be left with nothing was difficult.
Kishan had been envious of Ren getting the glory, and here I was feeling the same way about Anamika. I sat at dinner telling myself over and over that the Scarf and the Golden Fruit belonged to her, not to me. I fingered the Pearl Necklace at my throat and wondered if there was a way I could at least keep that gift to myself.
I’d fought hard for them, I rationalized. I had almost been killed many times. And all Anamika had to do was become a beautiful goddess and take the man I love as her consort. I thought about the Kappa bite, the monkeys, the giant shark, the Kraken, and the Stymphalian birds. Then there was Lokesh himself. It isn’t fair.
I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help feeling cheated sitting at the other end of the table. It was like I’d been summarily dismissed. Used. My perspective of the goddess shifted. As I mulled it over in my mind, I thought back to all of our meetings in the temples. When she’d promised to protect Ren, it wasn’t for me at all, my resentful heart shouted. It was for her! She made him forget me. Me! If I’d only known that her plan was to take him for herself, I would have stayed in Oregon and let her go after her own gifts.
“Learn the lesson of the lotus flower,” she’d said. Well, if I was a lotus flower, then she had essentially plucked me from the water and ground me into the dirt under her feet.
My eyes were captured by a flash of gold from Kishan’s tunic. Durga’s brooch. I sighed and remembered that she didn’t have everything. I still had my golden bow and arrows, the Fire Amulet, the Pearl Necklace, and Fanindra.
I repeated over and over as I pushed the food around my plate, “This is why we’re here. This is why we’re here.”
The glorious goddess and her power washed over me from the other side of the table like heavy waves, leaving me feeling as pale and as dank as rotten seaweed.
That’s what I am, I mused darkly. I’m as rotten on the outside as I am on the inside. I’m a power-hungry girl from the future who craves the love of two brothers and wants to keep all the magic too. There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to cheat Anamika of her destiny and take it all for myself.
Then she touched Ren and whispered something into his ear.
Ren bowed his head as they conversed quietly, intimately, together, and I realized that there was something else I wanted more than the Pearl Necklace, more than the Golden Fruit and the Divine Scarf. More than Durga’s destiny, Fanindra, and more than the Fire Amulet.
I wanted Ren.
The force of the emotion came on like a hurricane. I’d been jealous before when Ren had danced with Nilima and all of the girls at the beach party, but even then, a part of me knew that it wasn’t my Ren doing those things. That Ren had lost his memory of me. Now I was faced with the sight of a man who was very much my Ren being close to another woman. I couldn’t stand it. I felt like I was being torn into two. My world was unraveling even faster than the Scarf could.
I sank my head into my hands and stared at the uneaten food on my plate. The scent of cinnamon and saffron wafted to my nose. Kishan asked if I was feeling well, and when I shook my head, he rose and led me back to my tent.
Kishan stayed for a while, but I told him I needed to be alone to think. I rubbed a pearl on the Necklace between my fingers and realized I’d been doing that since dinner started. Just because I could, I filled a cup with water using the Pearl Necklace. Then, in a vengeful mood, I soaked all of Anamika’s clothes and filled her boots with water. Next, I created fog and made it rain on her bed. After her side of the tent was dripping, I got rid of all the water. I was surprised and slightly disappointed that her cot and her boots were completely dry.
When Anamika finally entered the tent several hours later and sank into a chair across from me, I was playing with my cup of water, draining and refilling it over and over using the Pearl Necklace.
Anamika watched me for a time and asked what I was doing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I’d tried to muster a snarky, sarcastic tone, but it came off as sad and pathetic.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked. “Are you ill?”
“Maybe. What if I was?”
“Bah, you are not sick, except perhaps in the head.”
I rose and pointed my finger into her face angrily. “If anyone here has brain damage it’s you. Why were you showing off your powers to those men? Did you need some more followers? Is that it? What’s wrong? Ren isn’t enough for you anymore?”
She folded her arms and stared at me. “I thought the point was for me to impersonate a goddess. That is difficult to do without showing them powers.” She angled her head. “This is not really about the Fruit or the Scarf, is it?”
“Partially,” I grumbled moodily.
“You are the one who told me to do this, Kelsey. I didn’t ask to take on this role.”
I pointed out glumly, “And yet you fill it so well, don’t you?”
She sighed. “Is this about Dhiren?”
I froze and stammered, “Why do you think that?”
She considered my question. “It is natural to be concerned for your brother. You wish him to be happy. If my brother brought home a woman, it would be difficult to see her take my place at his side.”
“Ren is not my brother.”
“You are betrothed to Kishan, and Ren obviously holds you in great esteem. You are close. He is like a brother to you, and you want to see to his welfare.”
“I—”
I couldn’t even respond to what she was saying.
Anamika put her hands over mine. “I do not know if Dhiren wishes to remain my consort after we kill the demon, but I will disclose to you that I hope he does.” Her expression brightened. “I find him to be thoughtful and kind, and he has the mind of a great warrior and politician.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I also find him to be very attractive. I would be honored to call you a sister. A little sister perhaps, but a sister in spirit, nonetheless. I will try to make him happy, Kelsey. I give you my oath.” She squeezed my hands and stood. “There are many things that need doing tomorrow. I suggest you get some sleep.”
I sat mutely as she prepared for bed and was still sitting when she looked at me, shrugged, and then blew out her lamp and climbed onto her dry mattress. I don’t know how long I sat there, but it felt like time had stopped, and I was in a numbed, blackened hell.
Finally climbing into bed, I tucked my hand under my cheek and didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a tear drip between my fingers. I fell asleep repeating the same words over and over in my mind: “She’ll make him happy.”
Anamika was gone when I awoke the next day. I reached behind my pillow for my backpack with the hidden weapons and Ren’s poem. I wanted to read it again with new eyes to see if he was really saying good-bye to me. But the backpack was missing. I scrambled to my feet and quickly searched the tent.
After dressing, I headed to the campfire to see if I could find Ren or Kishan or even Anamika, but the cook told me that Ren and Anamika had eaten before dawn and had headed to the forest. Kishan was seeing to the needs of the visiting soldiers.
I finally found Kishan in the middle of a conference with the warriors. When he spied me at the tent flap, he invited me in and introduced me in several languages. The men nodded respectfully.
Kishan explained, “We are discussing battle strategy, and I am their translator. Each leader was just getting ready to discuss what they’ve seen in the war so far and will talk about the assets they will bring to the alliance. We are to keep a record of everything.”
I nodded. “Okay, but our bag is missing. Do you know where it is?”
“Yes, Ren and Anamika are practicing with the weapons.”
“Fanindra too?”
“Fanindra too. We need to continue now, Kells. Will you stay and take notes?”
My gut twisted at the thought of all my weapons being handed over without Ren even consulting me, and my eyes burned hotly.
I replied darkly, “Why not? Apparently I’m not needed elsewhere.”
Kishan grunted, oblivious to my inner turmoil, and acknowledged the first leader, General Xi-Wong.
The Chinese warrior began speaking. Even without his battle armor, he was impressive. Kishan translated his words into two other languages while two other men also listened and translated for their leaders. He handed me a tablet, a pot of some potent-smelling ink, and a sharpened stick so I could keep track of the statistics. Somehow, he managed to translate for them and then feed me the highlights while waiting for the other men to finish interpreting. I struggled at first with the old-fashioned pen but finally figured out how to make it work and jotted on the paper.
General Xi-Wong didn’t seem as war-weary as the others. His clothing was well cared for, and he had a beautiful yellow silk scarf wrapped around his neck. It made me think of Lady Silkworm.
I noted that General Xi-Wong’s army uses iron weapons, and his battle philosophy was called the Hundred Schools of Thought. Of all the army leaders, his group was contributing the most men and weapons— including chariots, infantry, spearmen, archers, and dagger-axes (long spears with a blade on one end)—but he had also lost the most men to the demon, more than a hundred thousand.
General Xi-Wong said that he first learned of the demon when he began recruiting in China. Whole gangs of criminals went missing and then entire towns would simply disappear. Multiple cities seemed to be swallowed up by the earth, and even the women and children were taken. A few survivors reported that a sorcerer had come and enslaved all the people. Later, men spoke of a monster, a half man and half bull, that had terrorized the countryside.
I spilled some ink on the corner of the page and blotted it away as Kishan and General Xi-Wong finished and introduced Jangbu, a Tibetan, or someone from the area I thought of as Tibet.
Jangbu preferred to be called Tashi, and his army was completely made of volunteers recruited from various tribes living in that region. They specialized in archery and guerilla warfare. Jangbu’s boots, fur, vest, and hat were edged with shaggy brown fur. I briefly wondered if he was wearing an ancestor of the brown bear Kishan and I had faced on Mount Everest.
Zeyar and Rithisak were from what would be the modern countries of Thailand, Myanmar/Burma, and Cambodia if they were all combined. They’d journeyed here from the Mon capital of Thaton—a port on the Andaman Sea. I noticed worn holes in their boots and that the warriors were thin. If the leaders of the armies were starving, then I imagined their men were far worse. I made a side note to have Kishan ask if they needed more food.
According to Zeyar and Rithisak, their greatest strength was their defense. They built strongholds and advanced only when they recognized an opportunity and could achieve it with minimal loss. Interestingly, they claimed to be skilled in the use of fire as a weapon, had great faith in Anamika, who they thought was a goddess, and they also believed the demon was raising the dead to fight again. They seemed very frightened.
Kishan listened to the last group who spoke and then announced, “This is General Amphimachus, who was a Parthian and now serves under his king called Alexander.”
My hand froze. “As in Alexander the Great?” I whispered.
Kishan translated my question into Greek before I could stop him. The general leaned forward and stared at me in a very uncomfortable way before Kishan added, “He is a wise and great leader.”
I squeaked at the man’s direct gaze, slouched down, and began scratching furiously with my writing utensil. The general introduced his men as well: Leonnatus, Demetrius, Stasandor, and Eumenes.
“We have not heard of the lands you come from. That is, except India, of course,” he said with a politician’s smile. “My king will be . . . pleased to learn more of your cities.”
Under my breath, I mumbled, “I bet he would be.”
The general went on, “Perhaps when this battle is over we can speak of establishing trade?”
The men from Tibet and Myanmar seemed interested in this offer but not General Xi-Wong.
I kept my eyes down and scribbled furiously. I had to tell Kishan what I knew. Several facts that I’d memorized in college and high school sprung to mind, and I was alarmed that the Macedonian Empire might become interested in Asia. As far as I knew, Alexander the Great never conquered anything beyond the Himalayas. We could be changing the course of history by being here, and I’d seen way too many Star Trek time-travel episodes to be fooled into believing that was a good thing.
I took notes dutifully and was shocked at the numbers and resources the various battle leaders provided. What worried me the most about working with them was the interest they had in Anamika. General Amphimachus seemed to believe that a goddess with her power needed to be seated on the throne
next to Alexander. I grunted and perused my notes.
Amphimachus spoke of his assets. He had deadly Persian chariots, catapults, and panoplies, and he said that his men could fight in heavily armored phalanxes with spears, pikes, and sarrisas. Continuing to brag, he recounted how he lost an eye in the Battle of the Persian Gate. As a reward for his bravery, he was granted property and a foal sired by Alexander’s famous horse, Bucephalus. I couldn’t help but be fascinated. He smiled and lifted his patch to show me the gaping hole where his eye used to be. I shuddered and shifted closer to Kishan while Amphimachus delighted in my discomfort.
Finally, it was Kishan’s turn to talk. He shared his philosophy of battle, some I recognized from the training Mr. Kadam had given us, and some was new to me. Anamika’s numbers surprised me. He spoke of forty thousand horsemen, one hundred thousand footmen, over one thousand chariots, and two thousand battle elephants. From what I’d seen, Anamika didn’t have anywhere near that number of men. Her army had almost been annihilated. I wondered if it was standard wartime practice to exaggerate numbers.
I did some quick calculations. According to what the leaders had said, combined they had fifteen thousand archers, two hundred fifty thousand cavalry, almost one hundred fifty thousand infantry, a thousand chariots, fifty catapults, and two thousand elephants. We were just shy of a half-million soldiers.
Plans were then made to have each leader return to his camp in a week and march his army to the base of Mount Kailash, which is where Lokesh had reportedly taken up residence. In the meantime, everyone was to enjoy the hospitality of the goddess and witness firsthand the skills of Anamika’s soldiers.
As the leaders of many nations stood, Kishan thanked everyone for his contributions and said, “Each of you has experienced great losses, but I feel that together we will achieve victory and rid our lands of this demon.”
He clapped General Xi-Wong on the shoulder. “My friends, we will be as fast as the wind, as silent as a forest, as ferocious as a fire, and as immovable as the mountain itself.”
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