Tiger's Quest

  He made eye contact with Kishan, and then set down his cup. “I think we should let you sleep. We have a long journey ahead and much can be discussed on the road.”

  “I agree,” Kishan interjected. “These last few days have been hard on you. Get some rest, bilauta.”

  I finished my tea. “I guess I’m outnumbered. Fine. Let’s all get some sleep then, and we can leave that much earlier in the morning.”

  I used the Scarf to make another bedroll and pillows for all of us. I fell asleep to the quiet sound of Mr. Kadam and Kishan speaking softly in their native language.

  The next day, we began our journey home. We made it past customs and then drove about halfway home before stopping at a hotel in Gaya. We took turns driving and napping in the back. Kishan got a turn, but Mr. Kadam kept an eye on him, still smarting about the wreck with the Jeep in India.

  While we drove, we told Mr. Kadam all about our journey. I started with Mount Everest and the bear. Kishan talked about carrying me through the spirit gate and hiking through paradise.

  Mr. Kadam was fascinated by the Silvanae and asked dozens of questions. While I drove, he took copious notes. He wanted to keep a detailed record of our journey, and he listened carefully and wrote page after page in his refined style of penmanship. He asked many specific questions about the tests of the four houses and about the iron-bird guardians, nodding as if he had expected this or that to occur.

  At the hotel, we sat around a table and showed him the pictures Kishan took of the ark of Noah, the world tree, the Silvanae, and the four houses. The visual record helped us remember more details, and Mr. Kadam pulled out his notebook again and began scribbling.

  Kishan showed me the camera and asked, “What is that?”

  I turned it different ways and laughed. “It’s one of Hugin’s eyes. See? There’s the nest.”

  Kishan flipped through some more. “Why didn’t you take a camera into Kishkindha?”

  I shrugged but Mr. Kadam explained, “I didn’t want to burden her with too many heavy objects. She needed water and food.”

  Kishan grunted and said, “I’m definitely getting a copy of this one, apsaras rajkumari.”

  He handed the camera to me. It was the one of me in the gossamer gown with fairies “hair clips.” I looked like a princess with glowing skin and bright eyes. My hair hung in soft waves down my back, and I could just make out a pink fairy peeking around a lock of hair to see my face. Mr. Kadam looked over my shoulder.

  “You look quite becoming, Miss Kelsey.”

  Kishan laughed. “You should have seen her in person. Quite becoming is an understatement.”

  Mr. Kadam chuckled and went to get his bag from the car.

  Kishan rested a hip against the table. He cupped his hands, brought up a knee, and looked at me with a serious expression. “In fact, I’d say that I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

  I shuffled my feet nervously. “Well, it’s always startling when someone gets a makeover. A fairy makeover would be all the rage at the salons.”

  He gently took my elbow and turned me toward him. “The makeover is not what made you beautiful. You are always beautiful. The makeover just accentuated what was already there.” He lifted my chin with a finger, and looked into my eyes. “You are a lovely woman, Kelsey.”

  Kishan put his warm hands on my bare arms and rubbed them lightly. He tugged me closer. His eyes darted down to my mouth. As he lowered his lips to within inches of mine, I deliberately pressed my hands against his chest and admonished, “Kishan.”

  “I like the way you say my name.”

  “Please let me go.”

  He lifted his head, sighed, and said softly, “Ren . . . is a lucky, lucky man.”

  He reluctantly slid his hands from my arms and then stepped over to the window.

  I busied myself by gathering toiletries and pajamas. Kishan watched me quietly for a minute, and then announced, “I think I need a makeover too. A hot shower is calling my name.”

  Still nervous, I said, “Yeah. Me too. A hot shower is going to feel heavenly.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to go first?”

  “No, you go ahead.”

  His eyes twinkled as he regarded me, “It would be more heavenly if you told me you wanted to conserve water.”

  My mouth opened in shock. “Kishan!”

  He winked at me. “I didn’t think so. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  I was saved from responding by Mr. Kadam’s return.

  By the second day, Mr. Kadam and I had compared notes on the vision of Lokesh. He had noticed the tattooed servant helping Lokesh too, and he thought his appearance was distinct enough to track down where the man was from. Mr. Kadam had also planned to discreetly investigate Lokesh’s office in Mumbai.

  The air was so muggy outside that we probably could have filled our water bottles just by hanging them out the window. We passed temples with golden cupolas and busy people working in their fields, drove over swollen rivers and through flooded roads, but all I could think about was getting back to Ren. In fact, the only thing that interrupted my thoughts of Ren was Kishan.

  Something had changed between us in Shangri-la, and I didn’t quite know what to do about it. Spending all those weeks with Kishan didn’t help. He was moving past flirting and was starting to make serious overtures. I had hoped that he would lose interest.

  Originally, I had thought that the more he got to know me, the less he would like me. But I seemed to have the opposite effect on him. I did love him, but not in the same way he felt about me. I’d learned to rely on and trust him. He’d become a good friend, but I was in love with his brother. If I had gotten to know Kishan before Ren, things might have been different. But I hadn’t.

  Thoughts kept nagging at me as we drove. Was it just luck that I met Ren first? That we had the opportunity to fall in love? What if Kishan had followed me to America and not Ren? Would I have made a different choice?

  The truth was that I didn’t know. Kishan was a very attractive man, both outside and in. There was something about him, something that would make a girl want to wrap her arms around him and keep him forever. He was lonely. He was searching for a home, for someone to love him, like Ren was. He needed someone to take him in and let the wandering, lost tiger rest. I could easily envision that person being me. I could see myself falling in love with him and being happy with him.

  But then I thought about Ren who had the same qualities that I loved about Kishan. Ren also needed someone to love him, to quiet the restless tiger. But Ren and I fit together so much more easily, like he was made especially for me. He was everything I could possibly wish for wrapped up in a gorgeous package.

  Ren and I had so much in common. I loved the way he called me little nicknames. And how he sang for me and played his guitar. I loved how he got excited about reading Shakespeare and how he liked to watch movies and cheer on the good guys. How he would never cheat, even if it was to win the girl he loved.

  If I had never met Ren, if Kishan had been the one in the circus cage, I felt I could be happy with him too. But with Ren loving me and wanting to be with me, I could never be persuaded to look in Kishan’s direction. Ren filled my world even when he wasn’t here.

  There were no shades of gray for Ren. He was the white cat and Kishan was the black, literally. The problem was that I just didn’t see Kishan in the same way Ren did. Kishan was a hero too. They’d both been hurt. They’d both suffered. And Kishan really did deserve a happy ending just as much as Ren did.

  Behind the wheel, Kishan glanced in the rear-view mirror from time to time, watching me.

  I was biting my lip, deep in thought, when he said, “Penny for your thoughts.”

  I blushed and replied, “Just thinking about saving Ren.” Then I deliberately turned in my seat and napped.

  When the car finally pulled into the driveway, Kishan gently shook me awake. “We’re home, bilauta.”

  24

  C
onfessions

  I was so happy to be back home I could’ve cried. Kishan carried our bags inside and quickly disappeared. Mr. Kadam also excused himself to check with some of his contacts. Left alone, I decided to take a long, hot shower and do some laundry.

  Dressed in pajamas and slippers, I padded into the laundry room and threw in a load. I wasn’t sure what to do with the fairy clothes. I decided to hang them on the veranda overnight, just to see if there were any fairies in the real world. Then I walked through the house to find out what everyone else was doing.

  Mr. Kadam was in the library on the phone. I heard only half of the conversation. He glanced at me and pulled out a chair so I could sit beside him.

  “Yes. Of course. Contact me as soon as possible. That is correct. Send in as many as necessary. We’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone and turned to me.

  Playing with my wet hair, I asked, “Who was that?”

  “A man of my employ who has many remarkable talents. One of which is infiltrating large organizations.”

  “What’s he going to do for us?”

  “He will begin investigating who works in the penthouse office in the tallest building of Mumbai.”

  “You aren’t planning on going there yourself, are you? Lokesh would capture you too!”

  “No. Lokesh gave away more about himself than he learned of us. Did you notice his suit?”

  “His suit? It looked like a regular suit to me.”

  “It isn’t. His suits are custom made in India. Only two businesses in the entire country specialize in expensive suits such as that one. I’ve sent my men to hunt down an address.”

  I shook my head and grinned. “Mr. Kadam, did anyone ever tell you that you are extremely observant?”

  He smiled. “Perhaps once or twice.”

  “Well, I’m very glad that you’re on our side. I’m impressed! I didn’t even think to look at his clothes. What about the servant?”

  “I have a few ideas about where he might have come from. Based on the beads, the hair, and the tattoo, I should be able to narrow it down by tomorrow. Why don’t you have a snack and head to bed?”

  “I took a long nap in the car, but a snack sounds good. Will you join me?”

  “I believe I might.”

  I stood quickly. “Oh! I almost forgot! I brought something for you!”

  I found my backpack at the foot of the stairs and also retrieved a couple of glasses and two small plates from the kitchen. I set out the plate and glass in front of Mr. Kadam and unzipped the backpack.

  “I don’t know if the pastry is still edible, but the nectar should be.”

  He leaned forward, curious.

  Opening the Silvanae’s delicious packages, I placed several dainty delicacies on his plate. Sadly, the small pack of sugar-dusted lace cookies had become a pack of crumbs. But, the other items still looked as fresh and delectable as they had been in Shangri-la.

  Mr. Kadam appraised the tiny appetizers from several angles, marveling at the artistry involved. Then he carefully tasted a mushroom galette and a tiny raspberry tart as I explained that the Silvanae were vegetarians who loved sugary things. I popped the stopper of a tall gourd and poured sweet, golden nectar into his cup. Kishan walked in and pulled up a chair next to me.

  “Hey! Why wasn’t I invited to the Silvanae tea party?” he teased.

  I slid my plate to Kishan and went to get another glass. We laughed and enjoyed a peaceful respite as we savored pumpkin rolls with walnut butter and mini apple, cheese, and onion stuffed pies. We drained every drop of the nectar and were thrilled to see that the Golden Fruit could produce more.

  The only thing that could have made this moment better would have been to share it with Ren. I promised myself that I would write down each delicious food we’d eaten in Shangri-la so I could taste them all again with Ren by using the Golden Fruit after he was rescued.

  We stayed awake until late that night. Kishan changed into a tiger and slept at my feet as Mr. Kadam and I read books on the rural tribes of India. At about 3:00 a.m., I turned a page in the fifth book I’d picked up and found a picture of a woman with tattooing across her forehead.

  “Mr. Kadam, come look at this.”

  He sat on the leather chair next to me. I handed him the book, so he could study the woman.

  “Yes. This is one of the groups I thought of. They’re called the Baiga.”

  “What do you know about them? Where are they?”

  “They are a mostly nomadic indigenous tribe who avoid association outside of their communities. They hunt and gather food, preferring not to till the ground. They believe farming harms Mother Earth. There are two groups of them that I know of: one in Madhya Pradesh in central India and one in Jharkhand, which is in eastern India. I believe I have a book that has more details of their culture.”

  He scanned through several shelves until he found the right text. He sat next to me and opened the book.

  “It’s about the Adivasis. There should be more about the Baiga in here.”

  I leaned down to scratch Kishan’s ear. “What are the Adivasis?”

  “It’s a term that classifies all of the native tribes together, but it doesn’t differentiate among them. Several cultures fall under the heading Adivasis. Here, we have the Irulas, Oraon, Santals, and,” he flipped another page, “the Baiga.”

  He found the section he was looking for and ran his finger down the page as he read important parts in a verbal shorthand.

  “They practice bewar cultivation. Slash and burn agriculture. Famous for tattooing. Depend on jungle for sustenance. Employ ancient medicines and magic. Bamboo handicrafts. Aha! Here is exactly what we’re looking for, Miss Kelsey. Baiga men grow their hair long and wear it in a jura or bun. The man holding Ren fits that description. Though the confusing thing is, a Baiga leaving his tribe to serve someone like Lokesh would almost never happen.”

  “Even if he paid the man well?”

  “It wouldn’t matter. Their lifestyle is centered around their tribe. There would be no reason for him to leave his people. It’s not within their cultural norm. They are a simple, straightforward people. A person of the Baiga would be unlikely to join the ranks of Lokesh. Still, this warrants investigation. I will begin my study of the Baiga tribes tomorrow. For now, it’s time to rest, Miss Kelsey. I insist. It’s very late, and we both need fresh minds.”

  I nodded and replaced the books I’d taken from his library shelves. He squeezed my shoulder.

  “Don’t fret. All things will work out in the end. I feel it. We’ve made great progress. Kahlil Gibran said, ‘The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.’ I know that you’ve had many great sorrows, but I also feel that your life will hold many great joys, Miss Kelsey.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.” I hugged him and whispered against his shirt, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You get some sleep too.”

  We said goodnight, and Mr. Kadam disappeared into his room while I climbed the stairs. Kishan padded along behind me and followed me into my room. He stood at the glass door to the veranda, waiting for me to let him out. When I slid open the door, I knelt beside him and patted him on his back.

  “Thanks for keeping me company.”

  He hopped up on the swinging love seat and promptly fell asleep. I climbed into bed and hugged my stuffed white tiger tightly, hoping to fill the empty space inside my chest with thoughts of Ren.

  I woke around 11:00 a.m. Mr. Kadam was on the phone and hung up as soon as I sat across from him.

  “I think we’ve had a lucky break, Miss Kelsey. In my investigation of the Baiga, I’ve found nothing out of the ordinary regarding the tribe located in Madhya Pradesh. The tribe in eastern India, however, seems to be missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?”

  “There are usually small villages near the Baiga tribes who deal with them from time to time. Such meetings are often due to controversies over deforestation or other various disp
utes. This tribe appears to have relocated recently and hasn’t been found. They are nomadic and do move around, but this is the longest they have gone without contacting the locals.

  “The Baiga are limited by law now and cannot move about as freely as they did in the past. I will do some more research today. I also have some connections than can take satellite photos of the area and find the tribe at its current location.

  “If it warrants more attention, I will inform you and Kishan. You two have had quite an ordeal the last few weeks, so I want you to rest today. There is nothing you can do until I have more data. Go for a swim, watch a movie, or go out to eat. You two deserve a break.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I can’t really relax when I know Ren is suffering.”

  “Your worrying about him won’t make him suffer less. He would want you to rest too. We will find him soon, Miss Kelsey. Don’t forget that I have led soldiers into battle many times over, and if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that all war-hardened troops need R&R, including you. Making time to relax is very important to the mental well being of all soldiers. Be off with you. I don’t want to see you or Kishan until this evening.”

  I smiled at him and saluted. “Yes, General. I will convey your instructions to Kishan.”

  He saluted me back. “See to it.”

  I laughed and went in search of Kishan.

  I found him in the dojo working on martial arts and sat on the bottom step to watch him for a few moments. He did a complicated set of aerial leaps and twists that would have been impossible if he didn’t have tiger strength. Then he landed two feet away and faced me with a playful grin.

  I laughed. “You know, if you and Ren entered the Olympics you could both win several gold medals. Gymnastics, track and field, wrestling, you name it. You’d both get millions of dollars in endorsements.”

  “I don’t need millions of dollars.”

  “You’d have pretty girls fawning all over you.”