Tiger's Voyage

“Doesn’t someone have to be ready to jump into the wheelhouse just in case of emergency dragons or something?”

  “That’s going to be my job for the next few hours. If something comes up, we’ll be the first to know.”

  I squeezed his arm. “That sounds nice. Oh, Kishan! It’s lovely!”

  I let go and moved ahead of him to the beautifully set table. Kishan had used the Scarf to create a shimmering silver tablecloth and napkins. A set of china and gleaming heavy silverware with mermaids etched into the handles graced the table. Delicate goblets with tiny starfish attached to the stems were filled with golden, sparkling juice. He’d set up conch shells in clusters on the deck. Their candles flickered in the miniscule breeze, dazzling despite the simplicity. Lantern lights overhead added to the effect, and soft music played somewhere in the background.

  I stretched out a finger to touch a conch shell. “This must have taken you a long time.”

  He shrugged. “Not too long. I wanted it to look special.”

  “It does.”

  Kishan pulled out my chair. He sat across from me and grinned at my expression. “You like it.”

  “To say ‘I like it’ would be something of an understatement.”

  He laughed. “Good. Are you ready to eat, then?”

  “Yes. How does this work exactly? I imagine you’re using the Fruit.”

  He nodded. “I came up with a menu. Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  He closed his eyes and a scrumptious dinner appeared before us. We dug in and talked about what we might find with the third dragon. At first we were being serious; then we started wildly guessing crazy dragon scenarios such as, “What if he is toothless? What if he is the size of a house cat? What if he is a scaredy dragon who tells jokes like the Eddie Murphy dragon in Mulan?”

  Kishan had never seen that movie, so we made plans to watch it later. I sang him the “Puff, the Magic Dragon” song, at least as much as I could remember, and he told me a crazy Chinese story about a dragon that lost his tail.

  For dessert, Kishan created an eight-layer chocolate raspberry cake with hot fudge sauce and fresh raspberries with chocolate whipped cream.

  I closed my eyes and groaned. “You really know me well. Chocolate is my weakness.”

  He leaned forward. “I sincerely hope so.”

  I laughed. “The problem is … I’m too full now to eat it.”

  “We have time. It can wait.” He stood and held out his hand. “Would you dance with me, Kelsey?”

  “I’d love to.” I took his hand, and he pulled me close.

  The music was soft, and the night was cool. I cuddled against him, enjoying his warmth.

  “You know, this is the first time I’ve been able to dance with you without worrying that someone’s going to come along and rip you away from me.”

  “Hmm … that’s true.”

  He took my hand and twirled me in an awkward spin. I giggled as our arms tangled.

  “Sorry. I know I’m not the best dancer. It’s just that—”

  I lifted my head. “What is it?”

  “You just seem to like the fancy kind of dancing. Like the way you danced with Ren. I’ll probably never learn to do that.”

  “Kishan, you don’t need to compare yourself to him. I like you for who you are, not because I want a carbon copy.”

  “What’s a carbon copy?”

  “It’s a … it doesn’t matter. The point is just be yourself. I don’t expect you to change. If you don’t like dancing, that’s fine.”

  “Oh, I like dancing; I’m just not very good.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not that great at it either.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” I put my head back on his shoulder and closed my eyes, letting him lead me, guiding my footsteps. I trusted him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, and I wanted to offer him the same sense of peace he’d given so freely to me. I wanted desperately to not just love him but to be in love with him. Little thoughts of being in another man’s arms crept into my mind. I viciously ripped them up and tamped them down. I wanted my only thoughts to be about Kishan. About this good man who loved me unconditionally.

  Thankfully, he interrupted my thoughts. “Do you know when I first fell for you?”

  “No.”

  “It was when I watched you tend Ren’s wounds after we fought in the jungle. It was before you knew we were fast healers, and you cried.”

  “I remember.”

  “It broke my heart that you could cry over animals, over men, as wild and vicious and cursed as we were. You showed such tenderness and concern. I wanted to comfort you. I wanted to make you happy. To stop your tears.”

  “You do.”

  He grunted. “Do you remember when I came out of the jungle the first time and surprised you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d been watching you. You fascinated me. It was almost like I could tell what you were thinking just based on your expressions.”

  “I didn’t think I was that easy to read.”

  “You have an open face, a kind one.”

  “Thank you.”

  A small breeze blew my hair onto my cheek, and Kishan tucked it behind my ear and lightly caressed my neck. “Did you know that you were the first person I’d talked to in more than a hundred years?”

  I blinked. “I didn’t know that. You must have been so lonely.”

  He looked at me with his deep golden eyes, and I found myself absorbed in the copper flecks. He put his other arm around my waist. “I was. I’d been alone for so long, I felt like I was the last man on Earth. Then when I saw you, it was like a dream. You were an angel who’d come at last to rescue me from my miserable existence. I didn’t even care if I was alive or dead as long as it would bring an end to my isolation. Then, when you left, I thought I could go back to the way I was before. I didn’t really have any hope that you could someday be mine. It was obvious Ren had claimed you for himself. So I ignored the pull. I ignored my feelings. But it didn’t matter. I was drawn to you.

  “I returned to the land of the living. I learned to walk on my own two legs again. I learned what it meant to be a man. Then you went away and a secret part of me was happy. My intention was to give you some time and then seek you out. But it didn’t work out that way.”

  I nodded but said nothing. I couldn’t help but reflect on that time in Oregon, but I quickly shut the door on those thoughts and snapped back to the present. I smiled at Kishan.

  He went on, “When I saw you again, happy in America, I decided I would have to content myself with being your friend and protector. I tried to keep my feelings in check. To do what I must to help you be happy. But when we were alone in Shangri-la, I fell even harder for you. I wanted you, and I didn’t care who I hurt or how it made you feel. I was angry when you asked me to back off. I wanted you to want me in the same way, and you didn’t. I wanted you to feel the same way about me that you felt about Ren, but you couldn’t.”

  “But, Kishan—”

  “Wait … let me finish.”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe it’s what that idiot bird did to me in Shangri-la, but I’ve been able to see more clearly since then—not only about my past and about Yesubai, but also about you, about my future. I knew that I wouldn’t be alone forever. I saw that in the Grove of Dreams. And after that, I could see that you loved me too. But I rushed it. I pushed you. Then he came home and despite everything, you still wanted him. Maybe that won’t go away. Maybe you’ll always feel that connection with him.”

  I made a sound, and he touched a finger to my lips.

  “No. It’s okay. I understand it now. I wasn’t really ready to be in a relationship then. I didn’t have anything to give, anything to offer. Not to a woman of this time. But Shangri-la gave me something more valuable than six more hours a day as a man. It gave me hope. A reason to believe. So I waited. I learned how to be patient. I learned how to live in this century. And now … most important
ly, I think I’ve finally learned what it means to love someone.”

  Kishan lifted a finger and trailed it from my forehead to my chin, tilting my face to look into his eyes. “So I suppose the only question remaining, Kelsey, is … are my feelings echoed in your heart? Do you feel even a small part of what I feel for you? Is there a piece of you that you can reserve for me? That I can name mine? That I can lay claim to and keep forever? I promise you that I will cherish it. And I will guard it jealously all of my days.”

  Kishan’s hands squeezed my waist, and he dropped his forehead to touch it to mine. “Does your heart beat for me at all, love?”

  I pressed my hands against his face as a tear slipped down my cheek. After only a tiny pause, I assured him, “Of course it does. I won’t let you be alone ever again. I love you too, Kishan.”

  I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. He shifted to hold me against him and kissed me back. It was gentle and soft and sweet. I draped my arms around his neck and pressed closer. He tugged me up against his chest and wrapped his arms more tightly around me. At first, it just felt nice. It was pleasant and enjoyable. But then, something happened.

  I felt a crack, a splinter, a pull. My heart jerked wildly, and a fire burned suddenly within me. It consumed me, and I blazed inside with a heat I hadn’t felt in a long time. I kissed Kishan with a disoriented vehement passion, and he returned my ardor tenfold. The flaming inferno burned on, sizzling, cleansing, purifying. I wanted to bask in the warmth of the heat being created between us. It was consuming and powerful. My heart opened. My connection was back. My frame shook from the intensity of it. I was whole again. Time seemed to stop.

  Something huge hit the deck behind me, and several candles extinguished in a sudden warm wind. I heard wood splinter and crack. My body vibrated from the impact, and the shock of it made me topple. But Kishan held me upright easily though our lips parted. I thought, What is it? A dragon? A meteor?

  I blinked unbelieving as a deck chair flew past with a whoosh and landed in the ocean with a splash, taking the china, goblets, cake, and candlelit shells on the table with it. Kishan looked at me in confusion and then froze as we heard an enraged, intractable voice in the dark somewhere above us threaten, “Let. Her. Go.”

  18

  Making Up Is Hard to Do

  Kishan and I scanned the deck but couldn’t see anything.

  The voice in the night repeated, “I said. Let. Her. Go.” A dark shadow stepped into the light and stood on the decking above us.

  I gasped and whispered, “Ren?”

  Kishan took a step back and pulled me against him. Ren growled fiercely and stepped off the edge of the upper deck and into the air. He descended from above dressed in white, barefoot, his blue eyes blazing, and landed in a crouch. He stood slowly and stalked toward us like a dark angel full of the fury of God.

  Cold, calculated, and merciless, he said, “Don’t … make me repeat myself.”

  His eyes never left Kishan’s. His severe expression was frightening. He was like a violent storm gathering speed. I put my hand on Kishan’s arm, and Ren’s infuriated eyes fixed on my touch. His eyes lifted to meet Kishan’s with the intensity of a lightning blast.

  Kishan spoke. “Ren? What’s wrong? Calm down. You’re not yourself.” Without looking away, Kishan took a step back, shifted slightly, and said, “Kells? Move behind me. Slowly.”

  I swallowed dryly and took a step back. I lifted my hand from Kishan’s arm. Ren watched us like a cat watches a cornered mouse. He blinked and tilted his head, studying our movements calculatingly. Kishan began talking to him in low, quiet tones while moving the two of us gradually backward.

  Kishan quietly directed, “If Ren springs, run. I’ll keep him occupied while you get Kadam.”

  I nodded against his back.

  Ren took a step forward. “Move away from her, Kishan. Now!”

  Kishan shook his head. “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

  “Hurt her? I’m not going to harm her. You, on the other hand, I’m going to destroy.”

  Kishan held up a hand. “Ren, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe it’s kraken poison. Just calm down and back off.”

  “Vishshva!” Ren spat.

  Then he began yelling at Kishan in Hindi, speaking so fast I couldn’t pick out anything. I don’t know what he said, but Kishan bristled and clenched his jaw. I heard a rumble of warning from Kishan’s chest.

  Through clenched teeth Kishan quietly said, “Kelsey? It’s time to go. Run.”

  Whatever was going on with Ren was getting worse. Kishan said some things back to him that were obviously not helping. In fact, they appeared to be spurring Ren on, making him even angrier than he already was.

  Kishan reached back and squeezed my hand. “Go. I’ll hold him off.”

  I had just turned to leave when I heard a terrible groan of pain and the sound of someone dropping heavily to the deck. I whipped around and saw Kishan standing over a prostrate Ren.

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. He clutched his head and fell.”

  Ren was on his knees, bent over so his head touched the deck. His hands were pressed into his hair, and he twisted and pulled the strands as he moaned in agony. Suddenly he flung back his head and threw out his chest. Fists clenched at his sides, he screamed out in pain—the kind of mortal cry that reverberates through anyone who hears it. It was a cry of utter agony. In it, I could hear the echoes of Lokesh’s laughter as he hurt him, the physical suffering of months of torture, the emotional turmoil of having nothing left to live for.

  I had to go to him. He needed me. His anguish seeped into my body until it became a living entity. I had to vanquish it. I couldn’t let him suffer like this, couldn’t allow him to feel this pain. I knew somehow that I could destroy this blackness, this darkness that overshadowed his mind, his soul.

  That’s when I felt it. Under the hurt, under the layers of torment, there was something solid, something strong, something unbreakable. It was back. The bridge between Ren and me had been rebuilt. It was hidden under waves of pain. It was flooded over, but it was there, and it was rock-hard and firm. I took several steps toward him, but Kishan held me back.

  Ren slumped forward again and braced himself on shaky arms, panting. My heart beat heavily as if in rhythm with his. I could feel my limbs trembling, echoing his shaky movements. The three of us stayed locked in that position for several minutes. Kishan finally took a step forward and held out his hand. Ren took several deep breaths and then clasped his brother’s hand. He stood and lifted his head, but he didn’t look at Kishan. He looked at me.

  I froze in place. My skin tingled all over. My pulse hammered thickly through my veins.

  Kishan spoke, “Are you … alright?”

  Ren replied without taking his eyes off me. “I am now.”

  “What happened to you?” Kishan continued.

  Ren sighed deeply and reluctantly looked at his brother. “The veil of concealment was lifted.”

  “A veil? What veil?”

  “The veil in my mind. The one Durga put there.”

  “Durga?”

  “Yes,” he replied softly. “I remember now.” His gaze shifted to me again. “I remember … everything.”

  I gasped softly. The night air now hung thickly around us, warm and sultry when it had previously been cool and crisp. A vibrating hum in my body warmed my muscles, smoothing, melting away the stress of a few moments before, and I became aware of only one thing: the man looking at me fervently with unspoken words in his brilliant blue eyes. I don’t know how long we were locked together like that. I didn’t think anything could break that visual connection, but then Kishan stepped in front of me and faced his brother. I blinked several times before his words made sense.

  “Stay here,” he said to Ren. “We’re just going downstairs to get Kadam, and then we’ll be back. Are you listening to me? Ren?”

  Ren spoke without taking his eyes off me. “Yes. I w
ill stay here and wait.”

  Kishan grunted. “Good. Come on, Kells.” He took my hand and started leading me away. I followed him placidly, letting him guide my footsteps as my mind dwelt on what had happened.

  Just after we rounded the corner, I heard Ren’s soft voice, no more than a whisper on the night breeze entreat, “Don’t go, iadala. Stay with me.”

  I hitched a breath and turned to look, but I couldn’t see him anymore. Kishan squeezed my hand and pulled me along after him. When we arrived at Mr. Kadam’s door, Kishan knocked softly. The door opened a crack, and then all the way, allowing us to enter.

  Mr. Kadam wore a gentleman’s dressing robe, the type of sleepwear that men a hundred years ago would have worn before retiring for the evening. Kishan quickly explained the situation. They both wanted me to stay put while they spoke with Ren. They were adamant, and I was in too much shock to protest. I sat in Mr. Kadam’s chair, lifting a heavy book onto my lap.

  I opened the book, but I couldn’t read. My brain was unplugged. My body was entirely focused on feeling; and right now, the only thing I could feel was the strong connection in the center of my body. The hole, the missing link, the broken off gaping piece of me, gone since Shangri-la, was back, and I could feel the other end. I was connected to Ren again. I had been alone. Naked. Exposed to the harsh world. And now … I wasn’t.

  Even as I sat here decks away from him, I could feel the warmth of his presence as if a soft blanket had been wrapped around my soul, around my heart. It held me and protected me. It sheltered me, and I knew I wasn’t alone anymore. I’d been like a colander, a bowl that could hold onto the major stuff but the precious liquid drops of emotional connection were constantly draining out of me.

  Now those holes were sealed, and I was filling. Bursting with something that left me weepy and shaky. He remembered. I repeated those words over and over. They flitted across my conscious mind without penetrating, without processing. I felt light-headed, like I was suffering from heatstroke. I licked my lips but was too weak to get up and look for water.

  Kishan and Mr. Kadam returned. Kishan knelt beside me and took my hand. He stroked the back of it, but I couldn’t feel his gentle touch.