Tiger's Quest

  Two more gourds contained cheese and a ring. He ate the cheese and slipped the ring on his finger. The next one had a white liquid. He was nervous. It could be a poison that killed me outright or it could be my cure or it could be the elixir of eternal youth for all we knew. I waved him over.

  “I’ll drink it. Help me.”

  He lifted my head and tilted the gourd, its contents spilling between my dry, cracked lips. The liquid trickled down my throat as I swallowed weakly. Immediately, I began to feel strength return to my limbs.

  “More.”

  He held the gourd steady as I drank. It tasted delicious and gave me enough strength to take the gourd from him. Wrapping both hands around the bowl shape, I gulped down the rest in two big swallows. I felt stronger than I had before we’d come into the room.

  “You look much better, Kells. How do you feel?”

  I stood up. “I feel good! Strong. Invincible, even.”

  He let out a shaky breath. “Good.”

  I looked around with clear sight. Almost better than clear. “Hey. What’s that?”

  I pushed a few gourds out of the way and grabbed the handle of a large round gourd with a long top stem. “It has a tiger carved on the outside. Try this one, Kishan.”

  He took it from my hands and smashed it on the floor. Inside was a folded paper.

  “It’s like a fortune cookie! What does it say?”

  “It says—The hidden vessel shows the way.”

  “The hidden vessel? Maybe it means a hidden gourd.”

  “Pretty easy to hide a gourd in a room full of gourds, Kells.”

  “Yeah. Let’s look for out-of-the-way gourds that are in the back of the room or tucked in corners.”

  We collected a group of smaller-sized gourds. Kishan had about ten, and I had four. He opened his group first, which contained rice, a butterfly, a hot pepper, snow, a feather, a lily, a cotton ball, a mouse, another snake, which he got rid of—it could have been harmless, but better to be safe than sorry—and an earthworm.

  Disappointed, we turned to my group. The first had thread, the second contained drum sounds, the third held a vanilla scent, and the fourth, shaped like a small apple, had nothing. We waited for a minute and started to get nervous thinking one of us was going to get sick again. The broken gourd disappeared like the others, so something had happened.

  “Is that it? Do you see anything?”

  “No. Wait. I hear something.”

  After a minute, I said, “Well? What is it?”

  “There’s something different about the room, but I can’t tell what. Wait. The air! It’s moving. Can you sense it?”

  “No.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  Kishan crept around the room examining shelves, walls, and gourds. He placed his hand on one of the walls and leaned in closer, bumping gourds that rolled and shifted.

  “There’s air coming through here. I think it’s a door. Help me move these gourds.”

  We cleared the entire section of wall, which left only bare shelves.

  “I can’t move this one. It’s stuck.”

  It was a tiny gourd that seemed to be growing out of the wall. I pulled and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge. Kishan stepped back to get a better look and started laughing. I was still yanking on the small gourd.

  “What is it? Why are you laughing?”

  “Stand back a second, Kells.”

  I moved out of the way, and he placed his hand on the gourd.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove. It won’t move.”

  Kishan twisted and pushed. “It’s a knob, Kelsey.” He laughed and pushed open the section of wall that was now obviously a door. On the other side, we found more steps that led higher into the tree.

  He held out his hand. “Shall we?”

  “You know, I’m never going to look at pumpkin pie the same way again.”

  His laughter echoed through the tree trunk.

  After a few hours of climbing, Kishan called a halt. “Let’s stop and eat something, Kells. I can’t keep up with you. I wonder how long your special energy drink is going to last.”

  I stopped about ten steps ahead of him and waited for him to catch up. “Now you know how I feel trying to keep pace with you tigers all the time.”

  He grunted and slung the backpack off his shoulders. We made ourselves comfortable on a large step. He unzipped the bag, took out the Golden Fruit, and rolled it between his palms. After thinking for a moment, he grinned and spoke in his native language. A large plate shimmered and solidified. The steam coming from the vegetables smelled familiar.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Curry? Ugh. My turn.”

  I wished for scalloped potatoes, cherry glazed ham, green beans almondine, and rolls with honey butter. When my dinner appeared, Kishan eyed my plate.

  “How about we share?”

  “No thanks. Not a curry fan.”

  He finished off his meal quickly and kept trying to get me to look at imaginary monsters so he could steal bites from my plate. I ended up just giving him half.

  Another hour of stairs and my power juice wore off. I felt drained. Kishan let me rest while he looked for the next house. When he returned, I was writing in my journal.

  “I found the next doorway, Kells. Come on. It might be better to rest there.”

  The dusty circular steps inside the trunk of the world tree led us to a cottage overgrown with thick ivy and flowers. Tinkling laughter could be heard inside.

  I whispered, “There are people in there. Let’s be careful.”

  He nodded and untied the chakram from his belt while I nocked an arrow.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready,” I whispered.

  He carefully opened the door, and we were greeted by the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. They ignored our weapons and bid us welcome to their home.

  A gorgeous woman with thick waves of long brown hair, green eyes, downy soft, ivory skin, and cherry lips dressed in a shimmering, blush-colored gown took Kishan’s arm.

  “You poor things. You must be tired after your trip. Come inside. You can bathe and rest from your travels.”

  “A bath sounds great to me,” said an entranced Kishan.

  She paid absolutely no attention to me. Her eyes were locked on Kishan. She stroked his arm and murmured to him of soft pillows, hot water, and refreshments. Another woman joined the first one. She was blonde and blue-eyed and wore a gown of sparkling silver.

  “Yes, come,” she said. “You will find comfort here. Please follow us.”

  They’d started to lead Kishan away when I protested. Kishan turned and a man approached. Six feet of tanned, muscular, bare chest, blue-eyed, blond male turned all of his attention to me.

  “Hello, welcome to our humble home. My sisters and I rarely have any visitors. We would love for you stay with us for a while.” He smiled at me, and I blushed furiously.

  I stammered, “Umm, that’s very generous of you.”

  Kishan frowned at the guy, but the girls turned their long-lashed fluttery charm on and distracted him again.

  “Uh, Kishan, I don’t think—”

  Another man came out from behind a curtain. This one was even better looking than the first. He was dark-haired with dark eyes, and his mouth riveted my attention. He pouted and said, “Are you sure you can’t stay with us? Just for a while. We’d love to have some company.” He sighed dramatically. “The only thing we have to keep us occupied is our book collection.”

  “You have a book collection?”

  “Yes.” He smiled and offered me his arm. “Will you allow me to show it to you?”

  Kishan had left with the women, and I decided to check out the book collection. I rationalized that I could always blast the guys with lightning if they tried something.

  They did indeed have a book collection and happened to have many of the books that I loved. In fact, on closer inspection, I found I knew every title. They offered me refreshments.

  ??
?Here, taste one of these tarts. They are amazing. Our sisters are excellent cooks.”

  “Oh. Umm, no thanks. Kishan and I just ate.”

  “Ah then, perhaps you would like to freshen up?”

  “You have a bathroom?”

  “We do. It’s behind the curtain over there. There’s also a shower. Pull on the long vine, and water will rain down from the leaves of the tree. We will arrange some refreshment and a comfortable place for you to rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  We were obviously in the House of Sirens. Their bathroom was real, thankfully, and I took the opportunity to shower and change clothes. When I emerged, I found a long golden gown had been left hanging for me. It was similar to the gowns the two women had been wearing. My original clothes were still torn and bloody, so I put on the golden dress and hung out my fairy clothes to see if the fairies would still clean them in the world tree.

  Quietly, I read through Mr. Kadam’s notes on sirens. I skimmed through the sirens of the Odyssey and the story of Jason and the Argonauts. I already knew those tales, but he had also included information on sea nymphs, mermaids, and mermen, who were sometimes called sirens as well.

  These people were probably more tree nymphs than water nymphs. They retained beauty until they died. They could ride through the air. Slip through small holes. Hmm, that’s a new one. Extremely long life . . . sometimes invisible . . . special times are noon and midnight. Midnight should be soon. They could be dangerous, cause madness, a stroke, dumbness, and besotted infatuation.

  A soft knock startled me from my study. “Yes?”

  “Are you ready to come out, Miss?”

  “Almost.”

  I quickly glanced through the rest of my notes and slipped the papers into my backpack. The two men were standing directly outside the door, staring at me like a pair of snakes watching a bird’s nest.

  “Umm, excuse me.”

  I slipped between them, walked to the other side of the room, and sat on what looked like a giant bean bag sofa covered in soft fur. The men sat on either side of me.

  One of them nudged my shoulder. “You’re too stiff. Lie back and relax. The seat molds itself to your body.”

  They wouldn’t take no for an answer. The dark haired man pushed me back gently, but insistently.

  “Yes, it is comfortable. Thank you. Umm, where’s Kishan?”

  “Who’s Kishan?”

  “The man I came here with.”

  “I didn’t notice a man.”

  “It was impossible to notice anything after you stepped into the room,” the other man said.

  “Yes. I agree. You’re quite lovely,” said his brother.

  One of the men began stroking my arm while the other started massaging my shoulders.

  They indicated a table in front of us laden with treats.

  “Would you like to try some candied fruit? It’s delicious.”

  “No. Thank you. I’m not hungry quite yet.”

  The man massaging my shoulders began kissing the back of my neck. “You have the most delicate skin.”

  I tried to sit up, but he pressed me back in the chair. “Relax. We’re here to please you.”

  The other one handed me a fluted glass with bubbling red liquid. “Sparkling elderberry juice?”

  He picked up my other hand and began kissing my fingers. A foggy dimness clouded my vision. I closed my eyes for a moment, and my senses focused on lips kissing my throat and warm hands massaging my shoulders. Pleasure wound through my body, and I greedily wanted more. One of the men kissed my lips. It didn’t feel right. Something was wrong.

  I murmured, “No,” weakly and tried to shake the men off, but they wouldn’t leave me alone. Something tickled the back of my mind. Something I was trying to grab onto. Something that would help me focus. The massage on my shoulders felt so good. He moved to my neck and moved his thumb in little circles. That’s when the something I was trying to remember snapped into my conscious mind.

  Ren. He’d massaged my neck like that. I pictured his face. It was out of focus at first, but I started to list the things I loved about him in my mind and the picture became clearer. I thought about his hair, his eyes, how he held my hand all the time. I thought about him laying his head on my lap while I read to him, how he got jealous, his love for peanut-butter pancakes, and about how he chose the peaches-and-cream ice cream because it reminded him of me. In my mind, I heard him say, “Mein tumse mohabbat karta hoon, iadala.”

  I whispered, “Mujhe tumse pyarhai, Ren.”

  Something popped, and I abruptly sat up. The men pouted as they tried to pull me back. They began singing softly. My vision started to shift out of focus again, so I hummed the song Ren wrote for me and recited one of his poems. I stood up. The men were now insisting that I eat something again or sip some juice. I refused. They tugged me over to a soft bed. I stood my ground while they pulled and begged and cajoled. They complimented my hair, my eyes, and my beautiful dress and cried that I’d been their only visitor in millennia and that they just wanted to spend some time in my company.

  Refusing again, I insisted that we needed to be on our way. They persisted, took my hand, and pulled me toward the bed. I twisted away and grabbed my bow. Quickly, I strung it and nocked an arrow, then aimed at whichever male chest was closest, threatening them. The two men backed away and one raised his hand in a gesture of defeat. They silently communicated, and then shook their heads sadly.

  “We would have made you happy. You would have forgotten all of your troubles. We would have loved you.”

  I shook my head. “I love another.”

  “You would have treasured us over time. We have the ability to take away all thoughts and replace them with only feelings of passion and pleasure.”

  I replied sarcastically, “I’ll bet.”

  “We are lonely. Our last companion died several centuries ago. We loved her.”

  The other one interjected, “Yes, we loved her so. She never knew sorrow for even a day in her life with us.”

  “But we are immortal and her life was over too quickly.”

  “Yes. We must find a replacement.”

  “Well, sorry, boys, but I don’t want that. I have no interest in being your,” I swallowed, “love slave. And besides, I don’t want to forget everything or everyone.”

  They studied me for a long moment. “So be it. You are free to go.”

  “What about Kishan?”

  “He must make his own choice.”

  With that, they spun into a thin wisp of smoke, entered a knot on the wall of the tree, and disappeared. I went back into the bathroom to retrieve my fairy clothes and was delighted to see that they had been cleaned and repaired.

  Picking up the bag, I stepped back into the room. Instead of a seductive boudoir, it was now a simple, empty room with a door. I opened it, left the house, and ended up back on the circular stairway that wound around inside the trunk of the world tree. The doorway closed behind me. I was alone on the stairs.

  I changed back into the pants and shirt the fairies had woven for us and wondered when or if Kishan would exit. That soft bed would have made a much better place to sleep than the hard wooden steps. Then again, if I had stayed in that bed, I don’t think I would’ve been getting a lot of sleep.

  I mentally thanked Ren for saving me from the tree nymphs or man sirens or whatever they were. Completely exhausted, I curled up in the sleeping bag and fell asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, Kishan nudged my shoulder.

  “Hey.”

  I leaned up on an elbow and yawned, “Kishan? Took you long enough.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t exactly easy to shake off those women.”

  “I know what you mean. I had to threaten to shoot those guys to make them leave me alone. In fact, I’m surprised you got out as quickly as you did. How did you purge their influence from your mind?”

  “Talk to you about it later. I’m tired, Kells.”

  “Okay. Here, take my quilt. I woul
d offer to share the sleeping bag, but I’ve had enough of men for the moment.”

  “I understand completely. Thanks. Goodnight, Kells.”

  After we woke, ate, and packed, we continued up the steps of the world tree. Bright light shone ahead. A hole in the trunk opened, and we stepped through to the outside. I appreciated the sunshine, but the steps were no longer enclosed. I hugged the trunk, refusing to look down.

  Kishan, on the other hand, was fascinated by how high we were. He couldn’t see the bottom despite his super tiger vision. Giant branches extended out from the tree. They were so large we could have walked across one together side by side without any danger of falling off. Kishan ran along a couple of them from time to time to explore. I stayed as close to the trunk as possible.

  After several hours at our slow pace, I stopped in front of a dark hole that led back inside the trunk. I waited for Kishan to return from his latest exploration, so we could enter the hole together. This part of the trunk was darker and moist. Water trickled down the inside, dripping and plopping from somewhere above. The walls changed from smooth to splintered and peeling. Our voices echoed. There seemed to be a large gap in the tree, like it had been hollowed out.

  I said, “This part of the tree feels dead, as if it’s been damaged.”

  “Yes. The wood under our feet is rotting. Stay as close to the trunk wall as you can.”

  Another few minutes passed, and the stairs stopped below a black hole just big enough to crawl through.

  “There’s nowhere else to go. Should we climb in?”

  “It’s going to be a tight fit.”

  “Then let me go first and look around,” I volunteered. “If it’s blocked ahead, there’s no need for you to climb through. I’ll just back out, and we’ll figure out another way to the top.”

  He agreed and traded the flashlight for the backpack. Kishan boosted me up, and I wiggled into the hole and crawled through on my hands and knees until the passage started to narrow and become taller. At that point, the only way to proceed was to stand, turn to the side, and shimmy forward. Then the passageway lowered, and again I sunk to my knees.

  The passageway felt like petrified rock. A big chunk hung down, blocking the top half of the passage. I squirmed on my stomach, wiggled under it, and found that the passage opened into a large cavern. It felt like I’d traveled a hundred feet, but it was probably more like twenty-five. I thought Kishan would fit but just barely.