Ghost Leopard (A Zoe & Zak Adventure #1)

by Lars Guignard

  “The world may pass through you,” Mukta said.

  Zak repeated after him. “The world may pass through you.”

  Mukta extended his arm, passing it through the trunk of a gnarled old pine tree.

  “You may pass through the world. Please. Open your eyes.”

  Zak opened his eyes to see Mukta floating there with his arm in the tree trunk.

  “Whoa,” Zak said.

  Mukta took his arm out of the tree and settled back down to the ground.

  “The world is yours to save. Do not forget this, Mud Devils.”

  Mukta stood and bowed, his palms placed gently together, finger tips pointed up. Then he walked off through the trees.

  “Wait,” I said.

  I followed the path through the trees that Mukta had taken but was stopped by a sheer cliff. I saw a spotted green lizard basking on a rock but no of sign of Mukta anywhere. He was gone. When I looked back up the hill, his carpet was no longer there either. Black thunder clouds rolled in across the sky. I was annoyed. I might have been trying to expand my mind, but I still liked things to make sense.

  “I don't believe in yogis,” I called out to no one in particular.

  The only ones who seemed interested were the donkeys who stared at me through the pine trees. I wasn’t exactly sure why I did it, but I mimed pulling the donkeys’ tails, jerking down hard with both fists. That was all it took. The donkeys brayed loudly and took off back the way we came at a full donkey gallop. I kicked at the dirt in frustration. Not only did I not understand how Mukta had been able to do what he did, now I'd gotten us stranded. I felt the first big wet drop of rain hit my cheek. It was followed by another drop and then another, a little quicker than the last. The afternoon was definitely taking a turn for the worse.

  13

  THE GIFT OF THE ELEPHANT'S TEAR

  Zak and I hiked up the trail, soaked to the skin. The rain beat down so hard, that I knew we weren’t dealing with normal rain. The rain was much heavier than that. This rain was like standing under a garden hose.

  “Holy India,” Zak said. “They should have another name for rain like this.”

  “They do,” I said. “It’s called a monsoon.”

  “Mon whatever. It’s crazy!”

  “Kind of like Mukta floating in midair?” I said.

  “That was nuts too.”

  “What’s really starting to get me is this reincarnation stuff. All this rebirth. As in the maiden being reborn all those different times, first as a soldier, then as a sailor, then as a tailor. That’s freaky.”

  “That’s karma,” Zak said. “Everybody knows that. What comes around goes around. If you’re not nice to people in this life you could be reborn as a bug or something in the next life and someone will squish you.”

  “Bugs aren’t all bad,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind being reborn as a ladybug.”

  “How about a slug?”

  “How about a Ghost Leopard with a crazy Monkey Man shooting arrows at you?”

  “I guess the Leopard just got really unlucky. The whole karma idea is that you need to be nice now because you don’t know what you’ll be reborn as later.”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s why it’s so freaky. It’s like our every move is being watched by the karma police.”

  “It’s not that freaky,” Zak said. “My mom goes on these Buddhist retreats. She tells me about this rebirth stuff all the time.”

  “Really? It’s not that freaky? There’s an old man that looks like he’s wearing a diaper following us around on a magic carpet. You’re telling me you don’t you find that just a little bit strange?”

  “Well, yeah, that part is a little weird.”

  “No, come on, you’ve got to give me more than that,” I said. “Some of the stuff that has been happening to us is downright nuts.”

  “Let’s dry off and we can talk about it later,” Zak said.

  I wiped the raindrops from my face. “How do you want to dry off? Should we do a reverse rain dance and wait for a giant umbrella to descend magically from the clouds?”

  “Or we could just go inside,” Zak said.

  “Yeah. Great idea. Like I said, how do you plan on doing that?”

  “I was thinking we’d open the door.”

  Zak pointed down the path. Stupid me, I hadn’t seen it. A building was visible through the mist. It looked like it was hanging off the canyon wall. I picked up the pace as we got closer. The building looked like it had a roof and, for that moment, that was all that I cared about. When we got nearer, it was clear to me that the building was a temple. The outside walls were made of wood and covered in strange carvings that looked a lot like the gods in Mukta's steamy brass pot. Cobbled stones led to the rough hewn wooden door. I paused for a moment outside in the rain. We didn’t know what was inside, but it had to be better than staying out in the monsoon. So I knocked.

  There was no answer. Zak did what he did best and opened the door a crack, poking his head in.

  “Hello?” Zak said.

  A puff of warm steam floated out the door. I could see that it was dark in there. I wasn’t sure what to do. But Zak was. He walked right in. Against what was left of my better judgment, I followed him. It was like a sauna inside, hot and very steamy. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, the first thing I saw through the steam was a huge stone statue of the pot-bellied, elephant-headed, Hindu god Ganesha. Great, him again. It was the same god I’d seen on the mosaic at the bottom of the swimming pool and then later on Zak’s matchbox. The elephant-headed statue sat at the end of the room, candles in its many hands, red wax dripping onto the floor.

  “Lovely. More elephants,” I said.

  “I love elephants.”

  “So do I. I’m just worried this one’s bad luck.”

  I wanted a closer look. A glistening, highly waxed floor separated me from the elephant statue. I took a step forward and felt myself falling. The next thing I knew, I was waist deep in the floor. I quickly realized that what I had thought was a shiny floor was, in fact, a large hot pool. Zak dipped his running shoe in the water.

  “Feels good,” Zak sighed.

  There was a small splash. I looked at Zak. Zak looked at me. Neither of us had moved.

  “Welcome,” a voice said.

  We weren’t alone. Super duper. More bad luck. I felt a lump of fear knot up in my stomach as I began to pull myself out of the pool. But I stopped halfway. A spark lit up the darkness revealing Amala, the woman from the rickshaw in the city. I relaxed, but only a little. What was she doing here?

  “Ganesha must have led you to me,” Amala said.

  “Or else now you're following us too,” I said.

  “Mukta asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  “Really? Did you fly here on his magic carpet?”

  “I flew,” Amala said. “But not on a magic carpet. I could have used the ride.”

  “Well, if you were coming here anyway, why didn’t you come with us? We could have used the help.”

  “Every yogi must find their own way, Zoe.”

  “She called you a yogi,” Zak said.

  I got out of the pool.

  “I heard her. I just don’t like the way she’s following us around.”

  “Zoe, don’t be like that,” Amala said. “I have a friend I want to introduce to you.”

  I looked around the pool. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but I couldn’t see anyone else in the wooden temple. Zak stood there, one foot in the hot pool, one foot out.

  “I don’t see anybody,” I said.

  “We’ve already met,” a deeper voice said.

  My eyes spun around the temple, but there was nobody else there. I was sure of it. Only Zak, Amala, and the stone elephant idol, candles burning in its hands. But I recognized the voice, I knew I did. It was same voice I had heard speaking to me from the bottom of the hotel swimming pool.

  “Where are you?” I said.

  “I�
�m right here. I welcomed you to India, Zoe Guire.”

  Now I knew where the voice was coming from, but I didn’t want to believe it. It was too strange. I looked at Zak and then followed his eyes to the stone elephant-headed statue. This time, I watched the statue’s rock lips turn blue, then move as they spoke.

  “We’ve been waiting for you,” the statue said.

  “You’re made of stone. Why are you talking?” I said, my already high voice breaking in spite of myself.

  “Sit,” the statue said. “Relax for a moment and I’ll tell you why.”

  The misty temple was now lit up by an oil lamp, but even with the light it was really hard to see in there, there was so much hot steam and fog. I sat submerged in the hot water with Amala and Zak. I had been chilled to the bone in the rainstorm and it felt great to warm up, but it was kind of hard to relax on command, especially when it was a stone statue that told you to. Now at least I knew I hadn’t imagined the voice and the elephant winking at me from the bottom of the pool, but it was small comfort. I watched the steaming hot water pour into the hot pool from leopard-shaped spouts on each of the temple walls only because I was trying not to stare. The Ganesha statue was starting to really scare me, especially the way its stone face turned into what looked like glistening blue skin when it spoke. I noticed that Ganesha had only one tusk. Probably broke the other one freaking people out.

  “Do you want to know why I’m speaking to you?” the statue asked.

  “I want to know how you’re speaking to me,” I said.

  “If I respond that I’m speaking with my mouth, would you think me glib?”

  “I don’t know what glib means,” Zak said.

  “It means superficial or insincere,” I said. “And I wouldn’t think you were glib. I’d still think you were a talking statue.”

  “Clever girl. I am a talking statue,” the statue said. “But you’ll need to be more than clever to survive your destiny, Zoe Guire. You’ll need to become what you truly are.”

  “I’m getting tired of all you guys speaking in riddles,” I said.

  “The reason I speak at all, is to help you with your journey, Zoe. These are the Himalayas — home of the gods. There are strange things in these mountains. Things you wouldn’t believe in a million years.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Because I’ve been here for more than a million years and I don’t believe them myself.”

  “Try me,” I said. “What’s not to believe?”

  “That you, a young girl, has been sent to protect the Leopard, for one.”

  “I haven’t been sent,” I said. “I came with my mother.”

  “Yes, you did, didn’t you? Did you ever consider why that might have happened?”

  “Because I asked my mom if I could come.”

  “Her mom travels a lot,” Zak said.

  “Of course.”

  Zak smiled and slipped a little deeper into the hot water, allowing his eyes to close. Amala did the same. I felt alone. Was I the only one who didn’t find this situation relaxing? I turned my head to the side to look straight at the statue. In the soft light of the oil lamp I could see that it was made of rock, yet every time it spoke it seemed to have glistening blue skin. It was very confusing. I ignored the lump in my throat and spoke.

  “You can’t speak. You’re made of rock.”

  “Am I?” the elephant statue asked.

  “What do you want?” I said.

  “You’re in my temple. What do you want, Zoe Guire?”

  “We want to find the Ghost Leopard,” Zak said.

  The elephant statue laughed. “Listen to the boy with the dung hanging around his neck.”

  Zak self-consciously touched his new necklace. “I kind of like it,” Zak said.

  “It’s still stupid to carry it around your neck,” I said.

  “Is not,” Zak said.

  “Is too.”

  “Is not.”

  “Stop, both of you,” Amala said. “The dung is a powerful charm, but you won't need it here in the temple, Zak.”

  Zak sniffed the elephant-poop necklace and threw it over his shoulder so that it hung off his back.

  “Kind of grows on you,” Zak said, “like olives or mint toothpaste.” Zak looked up at the elephant statue. “Look, Elephant Man. You know why we’re here. Are you going to help us or not?”

  “Technically speaking, that’s a job for Hanuman,” the elephant statue said. “This problem with the rogue Vanaras is his to sort through.”

  “Hanuman, the monkey god?” I said.

  “Yes. Hanuman. The monkey god.”

  “Then let’s get Hanuman over here,” Zak said.

  The elephant statue laughed. It was a deep, rollicking belly laugh that caused the temple walls to shake.

  “Hanuman washed his hands of the evil Vanaras many moons ago. The Monkey Man is an embarrassment to him. He thinks he’s ruining his good name. You can’t bring up the topic without Hanuman uprooting a Himalayan peak and tossing it into the Celestial Sea.”

  “That would make a big splash,” Zak said.

  “You have no idea, mortal.”

  “So, this Monkey Man, he’s a Vanara, right? I think that makes him pretty old. Does he live forever?”

  “He’s no immortal if that’s what you’re asking. He’s simply very clever. He drinks monkey blood to stay young.”

  “Ooh. Gross.” I couldn’t help but shudder.

  “Monkey blood,” Zak said. “Got to try that some time.”

  I was worried that Zak might be getting just a little too cheeky. He was, after all, talking to, well, a statue that might be a god. I bit my tongue though. Under the circumstances I just wasn’t sure what I could add to the conversation.

  “So, like I said before,” Zak said. “Are you going to help us or not?”

  The elephant statue smiled, bright sunlight shining out of its mouth. I shielded my eyes. The sunlight was so bright that I thought it was going to burn a hole in my face. Fortunately the statue closed his blue lips.

  “I am going to help you,” the statue said. “Not because you deserve it, but because without my assistance you shall surely perish.”

  “What are you going to do?” Zak asked.

  “I’m going to cry for you,” the statue said.

  “Why?”

  “So that I may give you a tear.”

  That was a weird thing to say. I stared at the blue face of the elephant statue in the lamplight. The elephant statue smiled back. I wasn’t sure if he looked sad or not, but I did see that a single large tear pooled in his soft, watery eye. Then the elephant god turned back to stone. As it did, the tear fell to the stone floor at its feet. The tear bounced with a clink before settling in a puddle. Zak splashed over a few feet to check it out. The next thing I knew he was holding a huge, glittering diamond between his fingers.

  “Check it out,” Zak said. “Diamond tears.” He showed me the shiny diamond that had formed from the statue’s tear. It was big and beautiful and about the size of a golf ball. Zak didn’t seem that impressed though. He plopped the diamond into his dung sack.

  “So what's with you and Mukta?” Zak asked Amala.

  “Wait!” I said. Both Zak and Amala turned to me. “A statue, that statue, just came to life, and we’re going to pretend like everything is perfectly normal?”

  “I didn’t think it was normal,” Zak said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “It was crazy. Crazy things have been happening since we got here. Mukta floats on air. Statues talk. None of these things are even possible.”

  “These things that you say are impossible, did you see them happen?” Amala asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Then perhaps it’s time you examined your definition of the impossible.”

  I looked at the elephant statue. It was stone. I looked back at Amala. She was a living person. Maybe she could answer. “Why?” I asked. “Why us?”

  As I spoke, the spot
ted birthmark on my hand glowed ever so softly. I know that Zak saw it, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Don’t worry about the why right now,” Amala said. “Worry about protecting the Ghost Leopard.”

  Amala exhaled a big breath and blew out the candles in Ganesha’s many hands. Then the light flickered away, plunging the temple into darkness.

  14

  A FAIRLY FANTASTIC MOUNTAIN WONDERLAND

  I dreamt of leopards. I was camped outside on a rocky mountaintop, sleeping under the stars. The mountaintop was riddled with towering boulders and, as I slept, the leopards danced over my head. There were at least five or six of them leaping above me and running in circles around the rocks. There was something strange about the leopards though, and it took me a moment to see what. The leopards were losing their spots. As the leopards ran and jumped, their spots fell off of their snow-white fur and flowed down their legs. But I couldn’t see where the spots had gone until I looked directly above me. The leopards’ spots had gathered in a pile on a rock above. From there, the black spots were running down the rock and onto my shoulder. Then, from my shoulder, they flowed down my arm and hit the side of my hand. At that point, the spots turned to brown and glowed on my hand before dissolving into nothing.

  I stirred awake, recalling my strange dream. Something, I wasn’t sure what, had woken me. I lay on the stone floor under a wool blanket. Zak was asleep on the other side of the room, snoring loudly. It was twilight outside, the sky a deep shade of purple. We were in a small room across from the main temple and I could see the shrine with the hot pool from my place on the floor. The first voice I heard was Amala’s.

  “They’re not ready,” she said.

  As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw hot water pouring from the steaming leopard spout. Amala turned from the spout to Mukta who levitated above the steaming hot pool, his legs crossed, his ash-painted body glistening with sweat. I kind of liked the fact that they didn’t know that I saw them. I watched quietly.