Tiger's Destiny

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Tiger's Destiny Page 37

by Colleen Houck


  “Please!” Durga responded.

  Phet caught sight of Ren at that moment and shook his head. “This is a most unfortunate turn of events,” he said as he lowered himself on a cushion.

  “You have a gift for understatement,” I replied with fresh tears.

  Phet took my hand into his wrinkled brown ones and said, “There is hope, my flower. Do you have all the pieces of the amulet?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I see them?”

  I took the fire piece from my neck and placed it in his hand then I picked up the one worn by Lokesh that I’d set down next to me and handed that to him too.

  As he removed the fire piece from the ribbon and handed it back to me with Kishan’s golden key, he explained. “The Damon Amulet is an Astra. An Astra is a cosmic weapon or a tool, if you will, that channels great power when properly invoked.”

  “Invoked?”

  “Yes. A deity will respond to an incantation and endow a weapon with their gifts. For example, an Agniastra creates inextinguishable flames, a Suryastra generates brilliant light, and a Varunaastra produces vast quantities of water. The greater the god, the more power the Astra wields.”

  “Well, which one is this?” I asked. “And how do we invoke it?”

  “You have already used many of the forces contained within these individual amulet pieces, but what you haven’t had access to is the power of the combined amulet.”

  With a snap, Phet fit the fire wedge into the empty section of the amulet disk. The edges of each piece briefly glowed with a white light, and then the five pieces became whole. He held the Damon Amulet up, and firelight glinted off the stone.

  He handed it to me, and I ran my finger over the carved tiger in the center. “We know that Lokesh had power over elements and even living creatures,” I said. “Now that the amulet is whole, what do you want us to do with it?”

  “Well, the first thing I would do is bring back your handsome prince,” Phet said with a wink.

  I gaped at him.

  Softly, I asked, “Can I really do this?”

  “You can’t. The Damonastra can. But you must invoke the power of Damon.”

  “Damon as in Durga’s tiger?”

  The shaman hesitated and carefully chose his words. “The one and the same. Damon sacrificed himself, giving the tigers life in the very beginning,” he explained gently. “He can grant the same gift again. All you have to do is read the incantation.”

  I squinted at the Sanskrit words circling the amulet. Nervously I wet my lips and looked up. “Kishan? Could you read it?”

  Kishan nodded, sat beside me, and gave me a quick but tender embrace.

  Pursing his lips and tracing the words around the amulet with his forefinger, Kishan murmured, “Damonasya Rakshasasya Mani-Bharatsysa Pita-Rajaramaasya Putra. It says:

  The Amulet of Damon

  The Father of India

  The Son of . . .

  Rajaram.”

  trading places

  The word Rajaram had barely escaped his lips when the Damon Amulet began to glow. The Sanskrit lettering seemed to float up from the stone, and the outer section of the disk started to spin. The words circled faster and faster until they became a solid white line.

  “Now, use the power of Damon to bring life back to your brother,” Phet instructed.

  “But how?” Kishan mumbled.

  “The difficulty is not in the knowing; it’s in the choosing.”

  Kishan closed his eyes and his body burned with a white energy. He gasped and trembled.

  Alarmed, I asked desperately, “What’s happening to him? Is he in pain?”

  Phet replied, “Kishan must choose whether or not to accept the price in order to save his brother.”

  “A price? What price? Kishan, don’t do this. I can pay whatever price is necessary.”

  Phet squeezed my arm. “This is something Kishan must choose, Kahl-see. This is his destiny.”

  Kishan panted. Sweat trickled down his face. His head and arms jerked back violently, and he cried out.

  “Kishan!” I started toward him, but Phet held me back and shook his head.

  As Kishan writhed in pain and agony, a small light rose from his chest and headed for the fallen white tiger. As the bright beam passed by me, I swore I could see the Sanskrit symbols twisting and swirling in an arc around Ren. A thin mist materialized and hovered over Ren like a silky funeral shroud.

  Suddenly the blanket of light melted into Ren’s body. Kishan stiffened and fell forward on his hands and knees, groaning, and breathing heavily. I threw my arms around Kishan’s trembling shoulders. As his chest rose and fell, I became aware of another chest moving.

  The white tiger inhaled deeply, and Phet said, “Anamika, hurry. He must drink from the kamandal.”

  She positioned herself at Ren’s side and dribbled the elixir into his mouth. The spear wounds on Ren’s body began to heal.

  “Now, it’s your turn, Kahl-see. Heal him with your golden flame.”

  “But . . .” I faltered. “I don’t have the fire amulet anymore.”

  “The golden flame comes from inside you. It always has.”

  Leaving Kishan for the moment and cradling the body of my white tiger, I channeled what was left of my energy into him. I sent him my thoughts, whispering to him in my mind and heart, willing him to live. I felt the warmth of the golden fire run through me. Ren’s body hummed in response.

  Gaping wounds healed rapidly and within a few minutes he was able to roll toward me and sit up. As he huffed softly, I buried my face in the white fur of his neck and wrapped my arms around him. I cried with joy.

  Ren shifted form and held me tightly against his body. Pressing his lips against my temple, he murmured words in Hindi as he stroked my back. Finally lifting his head, he asked, “How has this happened?”

  Phet answered, “Your brother has made the necessary sacrifice,” Phet said somberly, and we all turned our attention to Kishan.

  “What does he mean?” I asked.

  Kishan cleared his throat. “It’s hard to explain. A life restored is no easy thing. To bring him back, I had to give up a part of myself.”

  “I still don’t understand.” Reluctantly, I slid away from Ren and knelt at Phet’s feet.

  “What did Kishan give up?” I asked.

  Phet sighed, and said, “His immortality. Fortunately, he was strong enough to survive the process.”

  He patted my hand as a tear dripped onto my cheek. “Do not fret, Kahl-see, Kishan will still live for a long, long time—much longer than several human life spans.”

  I nodded and knelt by the man with the golden eyes, the man I had relied upon since leaving Oregon, the man who was in love with me. His elbows rested on his drawn up knees. Little tremors still shook his body and his breathing was shallow. When I touched his shoulder, he gave me a distracted smile.

  “Thank you for saving Ren,” I whispered and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  Kishan stretched out his legs and took hold of my waist, shifting me onto his lap. He searched my face and with naked emotion said, “I’d do anything for you, Kelsey. You know that, don’t you?”

  Softly, I smiled and stroked his cheek. “I know that.”

  The brothers gave each other a long look. They didn’t utter a word, but I could tell from their solemn faces that much more than gratitude was conveyed in their silence.

  Kishan wrapped his arms around me and held me close. When I pulled away, Durga and her brother were gone and Ren was studying his hands as he rubbed them slowly together. Phet stood and announced, “You must eat and rest tonight. Tomorrow we will discuss the future.”

  Then he stepped outside the tent. Kishan took my hand and rose to follow. Ren stood too, and I was momentarily lost in his gaze as I passed him. Cobalt blue eyes captured mine, and my heart fluttered like a butterfly caught in a net. Ren ran his hand down my arm and our fingers brushed together briefly before Kishan led me outside the tent. Phet had di
sappeared.

  The five of us regrouped to eat around the fire, but after giving Kishan and me the once over as we stood side by side, hands clasped, Durga narrowed her eyes, said she wasn’t hungry, and stalked off into the darkness.

  Kishan called out, “Ana, you need to eat something,” but the Amazon warrior goddess with an attitude disappeared.

  With raised eyebrows, Kishan gave me a peck on the cheek before leaving to retrieve the Golden Fruit. Ren readily took his spot next to me.

  “I’m sorry I’ve acted . . . less than hospitable,” I said to Sunil as we warmed ourselves by the flames. “Things have been . . .”

  “Very strange,” he admitted. “I have not felt slighted. In fact, I have much to thank you for. I apologize for my sister. She is not behaving much like the sister I know. When she remembers herself, she will return to thank you as well.”

  I laughed softly. “I won’t hold my breath but thank you.”

  Kishan returned with the Fruit and paused when he saw Ren sitting with me. He shook his head as he approached, then, stubbornly sat on my other side, pressing his thigh and arm against mine. I suddenly felt like I was a very thin layer of chocolate separating two cookies fresh out of the oven.

  Shoving entire pizza pies at Ren, Kishan, and a happily surprised Sunil distracted everyone a bit.

  After Sunil was on his fifth slice of cheesy goodness, I asked, “How did Lokesh catch you anyway?”

  “The irony is that if I’d listened to my sister, I wouldn’t have been taken,” Sunil explained. “We first heard of the demon a year ago. Rumors spread from trade caravans saying that he was gathering an army and that entire villages were disappearing. Anyone who ventured north near the Great Mountains were warned that they risked their lives if not their very souls.

  “The people said that once the demon leader looked into your eyes, you’d live for an eternity enslaved by him, an evil spirit that would never let you go. The stories were terrible, and when one of the most treasure-laden caravans of our king went missing, we were finally sent with our armies to take care of the situation.

  “It was during our second assault that I was taken. I’d been hit on the head and knocked unconscious. Anamika found me and brought me back to camp and I am sad to admit that I doubted her when she described the horrible fate of our dead. I couldn’t comprehend such an evil. It was impossible. I’d always been the practical one, the skeptic, and I told her that magic such as that did not exist.”

  “But didn’t you see the enemy soldiers?” I asked.

  “We fought them in the swirling mists and during that fight many of them wore armor. How could I ask my men to fight magic? I simply refused to give in to the wild speculation and told them we fought clever men who used tricks to frighten their enemies.”

  Sunil bent his knees and wrapped his arms around them. “Anamika was the believer between the two of us. She worshipped the gods and always felt that something, or some . . . power, dwelt outside of our human existence. She showed great faith in everything our teacher told her, but I considered them to be just the fabricated stories of an imaginative monk.

  “After my first defeat, she described terrors so indomitable that our only option was to turn our heads toward home in shame. My pride wouldn’t allow that. A few days later I strapped on my armor and left only a small number of soldiers behind with my sister. She cried and pleaded for me not to go. A few men had to physically restrain her from jumping onto her horse to follow me. As I left, I heard her voice carrying in the wind, begging me to return and leave this place of death.

  “When the battle started, my men were literally ripped apart. I’d just given the signal for retreat and turned my horse around when I heard a screech from above. Huge claws sunk into my shoulder and talons pierced my skin. I was carried through the sky and was dropped on a stone outcropping. Before me stood the demon himself. Somehow he pinned me to the side of the mountain using only his mind to freeze my body. I was still aware of what was happening, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  “He took my knife and cut my palm, dribbling my blood onto a wooden talisman. He said, ‘I have need of a commander for my army. This is why I have kept you alive, little warrior.’ He began chanting, and the medallion glowed red and then white. Light shot toward me and entered my body. The pain was so intense that I would have sunk to my knees and begged for death if I could have. Everything went black and then my body was no longer mine to control.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you?”

  “I can recall bits and pieces, but it was almost as if I was in a dark waking dream. The things I experienced happened in a place far away, outside of me. Does that make sense?”

  Ren nodded.

  “And your sister? Did she feel this pain?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Kishan said flatly, “she did.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I put my hand on Kishan’s arm as Sunil rose, saying he was going to find his sister.

  “’Night, Sunil. Let’s get some rest, Kells,” Kishan said, and we ducked into my tent. He flashed a look at Ren and added, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, big brother?”

  Ren shrugged and smiled shamelessly at Kishan. “Think of me as your chaperone. Are you regretting saving me now?”

  Ren was so good natured about it that Kishan’s lip twitched.

  “Maybe,” he grumbled and busied himself setting up a place to sleep.

  I caught Ren’s eye and he winked at me; then prepared his own place to rest.

  Laying down, I tucked my arms beneath my head and asked the two men on either side of me, “Can you still become tigers?”

  “Yes,” they both answered simultaneously.

  “Then the curse hasn’t been broken. There’s still something else we need to do, isn’t there?”

  Kishan grunted and Ren said, “I believe there is.”

  I turned to look at his blue eyes in the firelight. “That’s what scares me,” I said softly.

  We were quiet after that, and I fell asleep listening to the pops of the crackling fire and the deep breathing of both of my tigers.

  We found Durga busy with the remaining soldiers the next day. She was a natural leader, and even her brother stepped back and let her command the army. Scribes were brought forward to write dictated letters that would be sent by messenger to all the different tribes and kings that had a vested interest in the outcome of the battle.

  I could tell as I listened that she downplayed her own achievements and noted that instead of writing about Kelsey, Durga, Ren, and Kishan, the letters only mentioned the two incarnations of the goddess.

  As different men stepped forward to share their own interpretation of the battle, I thought back to my research on Durga, and I finally understood where all the references came from. Phet had been right. We had always been destined to take this road. The stories I’d read were our stories, and if we hadn’t been willing to go through with our quests, history as we know it would have changed.

  The soldiers talked of boiling lakes, battle drums, and the divine breath of the goddess that gave life to men encased in stone. Mountains shook, a goddess danced across the tops of uprooted trees, and the roar of tigers was heard around the world.

  They also listed the powers they’d seen, and the words contained in the prophecies were finally clear. With the Golden Fruit, Durga could feed millions. The Divine Scarf would help her clothe the masses. The Pearl Necklace would be used to end drought, fill rivers, and provide drinking water, and the Rope of Fire surely fulfilled its purpose in bringing peace to the nations by helping me slay Mahishasur.

  The goddess Durga was created in a time of great need to overcome a foe that no man could destroy. A woman was fated to fight the demon Mahishasur, but history got it wrong. Not one woman but two. Two avatars of the goddess overcame Lokesh.

  Phet said that our future would soon be determined. I wondered if that meant we had to stay here. Could I be happy living in the past? As
a goddess I’d be waited upon. Thousands would come to worship us. We’d have all the gifts and weapons at our disposal, and we’d have the Damon Amulet. The power we had was virtually limitless. We could help so many.

  I sighed. I didn’t crave ultimate power. I didn’t want to lead an empire or make myself out to be the some kind of heroine for the masses. Living as a goddess was a noble sacrifice to make. I’d spend the rest of my days serving others, which was a great thing. But, deep down, a normal life was really what I craved. I wanted a chance to be a mom. To marry a wonderful guy—someone who would take me out to dinner once in a while and who I could nag about putting his socks into the hamper.

  That was the life I’d planned on.

  I didn’t want to be magical.

  I didn’t want to be a goddess.

  I just wanted to be . . . me.

  Anamika and I spent the rest of the afternoon organizing the camp. It was good to be doing something useful, and it kept my mind off whatever the future would bring.

  After a time of working together quietly, I said to Anamika, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For blaming you for Ren’s death.”

  She paused while folding a blanket, then set it softly on top of a pile. “You were right to blame me. If Lokesh had not killed Ren, I would have tried.”

  “You were under Lokesh’s control. It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have been strong enough to resist him.”

  “No one could.”

  “You did.”

  I sighed. “He didn’t have my blood.”

  “He . . . he wanted you. I could feel it when he controlled me.”

  “Yes, he wanted a powerful son, and he thought I could provide one.”

  Anamika nodded. “You are very beautiful. I understand why he would desire one such as you as his mate.”

  “Me?” I almost choked with laughter. “Are you serious?”

  “I do not jest, Kelsey. They all want you. Your tigers are devoted to you utterly. Their eyes never leave your face. You are as the sun to them. You are strong and powerful, and yet your skin is as soft as a flower and your hair smells of perfume. You are small, which makes a man puff out his chest and sweep you into his arms to carry you to safety.

 

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