Tiger's Quest

  “Oh,” he said dully. “He was threatening him. I wish I would have known that at the time.”

  “Yes, he was threatening Ren. He knew I wouldn’t do anything to harm him.”

  “Right. Of course you wouldn’t.”

  “What does that mean? And what do you mean you wish you would have known that at the time? Do you mean you wouldn’t have stopped?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t predict how I would have reacted.”

  The subject of our discussion perked up the tiger’s ears. He looked at me.

  “Well, then I’m glad you misunderstood. Otherwise, Ren might not be here right now.”

  Kishan sighed. “Kelsey.”

  “No! It’s nice to know you would have been willing to sacrifice him!”

  Mr. Kadam shifted in his chair. “It would not have been an easy decision for him, Miss Kelsey. I have trained both boys that, though each individual is of great importance, sometimes sacrifices for the good of all must be made. If he had the opportunity to rid the world of Lokesh, his first reaction would have been to end the tyrant’s life. The fact that he stayed his hand at all speaks to the depth of emotion he felt at the time. Don’t think less of him.”

  Kishan leaned forward, pressed his fingertips together, and stared at the floor. “I know how much he means to you. I’m certain I would have made the same decision if I had known Lokesh was speaking of Ren and not of you.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  He raised his eyes to mine, and several unspoken thoughts passed between us. He knew what I was asking. There was more to my question than Mr. Kadam and Nilima were aware of. I was asking Kishan if he would knowingly let his brother die to secure the life he wanted to have. It would be easy for him to step in and fill Ren’s shoes if Ren wasn’t around any longer. I was asking him if that’s the kind of man he was.

  Kishan studied me thoughtfully for a few seconds and then, with utter sincerity, said, “I promise you, Kelsey, that I will protect him with my life, until the end of my days.”

  His golden eyes glittered and pierced mine. He meant it, and I suddenly realized that he had changed. He wasn’t the same man I’d met in the forest a year before. He’d lost the cynical, sullen, woebegone attitude. He was a man fighting for his family, for a purpose. He’d never make the same mistake he’d made with Yesubai again. Looking into his eyes, I knew that no matter what happened in our future, I could rely upon him for anything.

  For the first time since I met him, I saw the mantle of a prince fall about his shoulders. Here was a man who would sacrifice for others. Here was a man who would do his duty. Here was a man who acknowledged his weaknesses and worked to overcome them. Here was a man telling me that I could choose another, and that he would watch over us and protect us even if it broke his heart.

  I stammered, “I . . . apologize for doubting you. Please forgive me.”

  He smiled sadly. “There’s nothing to forgive, bilauta.”

  “Shall I pick up the story from here?” I asked softly.

  “Why not?” he replied.

  The first thing I told Nilima was how I used the Golden Fruit to stop up the gas tanks with sponge cake and the guns by filling them all with beeswax. The problem was that it worked only on the guns and cars I could see. That’s why Lokesh had been able to escape in his car and the men I couldn’t see still had weapons that worked.

  I described the jawbreaker shower, how Lokesh got away, and about how Fanindra led us to Ren. Then I talked about meeting myself. I told her I had disguised myself as the Baiga servant who was helping Lokesh, which was probably why Ren punched me in the jaw. I explained that the servant had been forced to work with Lokesh and how he had shorn his hair as a sign of contrition, offering it to Ren while begging for his forgiveness.

  I went into great detail about the Baiga feast and told Nilima about the two women who were offered to my sons as wives. She rolled her eyes and commiserated with me as she sipped her nectar. I added that Kishan apparently wanted one of the sisters for a wife, but that Ren had argued with him.

  Kishan scowled. “I told you that’s not what happened.”

  “Then what did happen?”

  I caught Mr. Kadam shaking his head discreetly again out of the corner of my eye and quickly turned to him.

  “What now? What aren’t you two telling me?”

  Mr. Kadam quickly tried to reassure me, “Nothing, Miss Kelsey. It’s just that,” he paused uncomfortably, “it was considered very rude of us to reject the women, and the boys were trying to demonstrate their reluctance to appease the tribal leaders.”

  “Oh.”

  Mr. Kadam and Kishan locked eyes. Kishan turned away with an expression of distaste, annoyance, and impatience. I glanced at Nilima, who seemed confused. She was watching Mr. Kadam very carefully.

  I said, “Something’s going on here that I’m not privy to and I’m really too tired to figure out what it is, which is fine. Actually, I don’t really care about the two women anyway. It’s over and done with. We have Ren back, and that’s all that really matters.”

  Nilima cleared her throat and got up, gathered the dishes, and was taking the tray to the kitchen to wash them, when Ren decided to become a man again. Everyone in the room froze. He looked at each one of us in turn, and then he smiled at Nilima. “May I help you with that?” he asked politely.

  She paused and smiled, slightly nodding her head. We all stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak to us, but, instead, he quietly helped Nilima take everything to the kitchen. We heard him asking her if she would like some help with the dishes. She said she would take care of it and indicated that the others, meaning us, would probably like some time to talk with him. He entered the room hesitantly and evaluated the expressions of all three of us.

  He sat down next to Kishan and said quietly, “Why do I feel like I’m standing before the Spanish Inquisition?”

  “We just want to assure ourselves that you are indeed all right,” Mr. Kadam said.

  “I’m well enough.”

  His words hung in the air, and I imagined the rest of his sentence to be for a man who has been tortured for months.

  I ventured, “Ren? I’m so . . . sorry. We shouldn’t have left you there. If I had known about the fire power I have, I could’ve saved you. It was my fault.”

  Ren narrowed his eyes and studied me.

  Kishan contradicted, “You had nothing to do with it, Kells. He pushed you toward me. It was all his decision. He wanted you to be safe.” He nodded to Ren. “Tell her.”

  Ren looked at his brother as if he wasn’t making sense. He said, “I don’t remember it exactly the same way, but if you say so.”

  He let his words trail off and looked at me curiously, but not in a good way. It was as if I was a strange new creature he’d found in the jungle, and he wasn’t sure if he should eat me or bat me around with his paws. As he openly considered me, he wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something distasteful and then spoke to Mr. Kadam.

  “Thank you for saving me. I should have known you would have come up with a plan to liberate me.”

  “Actually, it was Miss Kelsey who came up with the idea for me to impersonate a deity. Without the Divine Scarf she and Kishan retrieved, we wouldn’t have been able to rescue you at all. I had no idea where to find you. Only through the vision and seeing the Baiga man did we come to figure out where Lokesh was holding you. And only through the weapons given to us by Durga were we able to subdue the guards.”

  Ren nodded and smiled at me. “It would appear I owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you for your efforts.”

  Something was wrong. He didn’t seem like the Ren I knew. His demeanor toward me was cold, distant. Kishan wouldn’t look at Ren.

  We all sat quietly. Thick tension radiated between all of us. I suddenly found myself envying Nilima in the kitchen. There was definitely an elephant in the room, and it wasn’t helping that all three men were sta
ring at me with questions and concern in their eyes. First, I needed to talk with Ren. Then once we were okay, I’d move on to Kishan.

  I raised my eyebrows meaningfully at Mr. Kadam, and he finally got my unspoken message. He cleared his throat and announced, “Kishan, would you mind helping me move something in my room? It’s much too heavy for me to lift on my own.”

  Ren stood and said, “I don’t mind helping you. Kishan can stay.”

  Mr. Kadam smiled. “Please sit and rest for a while longer. Kishan and I can handle it, and I believe Miss Kelsey would like some time to talk with you alone.”

  Kishan spoke, “I really don’t think it’s safe yet to—”

  I locked my eyes on Ren. “It’s okay, Kishan. He won’t injure me.”

  Kishan stood and faced Ren, who nodded and said, “I won’t harm her.”

  “Uh, Kishan? Could you?”

  He sighed, and knowing what I was asking for, picked me up carefully, and settled me on the couch near Ren. Before he left, he warned, “I’ll be close by. If you need me, just shout.” He turned to Ren and threatened, “Do not hurt her. I’ll be listening.”

  “You will not be listening,” I said.

  “I will be listening.”

  I frowned. Kishan gave me a look as they left, but I ignored him. I was finally alone with Ren. I had so many things to say to him; I didn’t know how to act. His cobalt blue eyes measured me as if I was a strange bird who’d suddenly perched on his arm. I searched his handsome face and finally spoke. “If you’re not too tired, I’d like to talk with you for a minute.”

  He shrugged. “If you like.”

  I tucked my leg gingerly on the cushion so I could face him. “I . . . I missed you so much.” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s so much to tell you, I don’t even know where to start. I know you’re tired and probably still in pain, so I’ll be brief. I wanted to say that I know you need time to heal, and that I understand if you need some alone time. But, I’m here whenever you need me.

  “I can be a good nurse even if you want to be cranky. I’ll bring you chicken soup and chocolate peanut butter cookies. I’ll read you Shakespeare or poems or whatever you like. We could start on the Monte Cristo book and go from there.” I took his hand in both of mine. “Please just tell me what you need. I’ll make sure you get it.”

  He gently extracted his hand and said, “That’s very kind of you.”

  “Kind has nothing to do with it.” I moved closer and put my hands on the sides of his face. He sucked in a breath as I said, “You’re my home. I love you.”

  I didn’t mean to push him so fast, but I needed him. We’d been apart for so long, and, at last, he was here and I could touch him. I leaned forward and kissed him. He stiffened in surprise. My lips clung to his, and I felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around his neck and slid nearer until I was almost sitting on his lap.

  One of his arms was stretched out on the couch behind us, and his other hand rested on his thigh. He seemed distant. He wasn’t holding me or kissing me back. I kissed his cheek and buried my face in his neck, inhaling the warm sandalwood scent of him.

  After a moment, I pulled back and dropped my arms awkwardly into my lap. His surprised expression remained. He touched his lip and grinned. “Now that’s the kind of welcome home a man likes to get.”

  I laughed, deliriously happy that he was back. I shrugged off my doubts and worries, realizing that he just probably needed some time to feel like a normal person before he could be part of a relationship again. He grunted in pain, and I quickly moved away to give him more room. He seemed much more comfortable after I’d moved.

  “Can I ask you a question?” he said.

  I took his hand in mine and kissed his palm. He watched my actions, intrigued, and then pulled his hand away.

  “Of course you may,” I replied.

  He reached out, tugged my braid lightly, and twisted the ribbon in his fingers. “Who are you?”

  28

  Worst Birthday Ever

  With a pathetic giggle of nervous shock, I chided, “That’s not funny, Ren. What do you mean who am I?”

  “As much as I appreciated your proclamations of undying devotion, I think you may have hit your head while fighting Lokesh. I think you might have me confused with someone else.”

  “Confused you with someone else? No, I don’t think so. You are Ren, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. My name is Ren.”

  “Right. Ren. The guy I’m crazy in love with.”

  “How can you express love for me when I’ve never laid eyes on you before?”

  I touched his forehead. “Are you feverish? Is something wrong? Did you get hit in the head?”

  I probed his skull with my fingers, searching for a bump. He gently removed my hands from his head. “I’m fine, um . . . Kelsey, is it? There’s nothing wrong with my mind, and I don’t have a fever.”

  “Then why don’t you remember me?”

  “Possibly because I’ve never met you before.”

  No. No. No. No. No. No! This can’t be happening! “We’ve known each other for almost a year. You’re my . . . my boyfriend. Lokesh must’ve done something! Mr. Kadam! Kishan!” I yelled.

  Kishan ran into the room as if his tail was on fire. He pushed Ren away, inserting his frame between us. Quickly scooping me up, he deposited me in the chair across from Ren. “What is it, Kells? Did he hurt you?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. He doesn’t know me! He doesn’t remember me!”

  Kishan looked away, guilt-ridden.

  “You knew! You knew about this and you hid it from me?”

  Mr. Kadam entered the room. “We both knew.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We didn’t want to alarm you. We thought it might only be a temporary problem that would resolve itself,” Mr. Kadam explained, “when he healed.”

  I squeezed Kishan’s arm. “So with the Baiga women—”

  “He wanted to take them as wives,” Kishan explained.

  “Of course. It all makes sense now.”

  Mr. Kadam sat near Ren. “You still can’t remember her?”

  Ren shrugged. “I’ve never seen the young lady until she, or I guess Kishan, stood outside my cage and rescued me.”

  “Right! A cage. A cage is where I first met you. Remember? You were at the circus. You were a performing tiger, and I drew your picture and read to you. I helped free you.”

  “I remember being at the circus, but you were never there. I recall freeing myself.”

  “No. You couldn’t. If you could have freed yourself then why didn’t you do it centuries before?”

  He furrowed his handsome brow. “I don’t know. All I remember is stepping out of the cage, calling Kadam, and then him coming back to take me home to India.”

  Mr. Kadam interrupted, “Do you remember going to Phet in the jungle? Arguing with me about taking Miss Kelsey with you?”

  “I remember arguing with you, but not about her. I was arguing about going to see Phet. You didn’t want me to waste my time, but I felt there was no other way.”

  Upset and emotional, I said, “What about Kishkindha? I was with you there too.”

  “I remember being alone.”

  “How can that be?” I asked. “You remember Mr. Kadam? Kishan? Nilima?”

  “Yes.”

  “So it’s just me?”

  “It would seem so.”

  “What about the Valentine’s dance, the fight with Li, chocolate peanut butter cookies, watching movies, making popcorn, Oregon, college classes, going to Tillamook? Is all of that just . . . gone?”

  “Not exactly. I remember fighting with Li, eating cookies, Tillamook, movies, and Oregon, but I don’t remember you.”

  “So you just happened to go to Oregon for no reason?”

  “No. I was going to college.”

  “And what were you doing in your free time? Who were you with?”

  He frowned as if concent
rating. “No one at first, and then I was with Kishan.”

  “Do you remember fighting with Kishan?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were you fighting about?”

  “I can’t remember. Oh wait! Cookies. We fought over cookies.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “This is a cruel joke. How could this have happened?”

  Mr. Kadam stood and patted my back. “I’m not sure. Perhaps it is just a temporary memory loss.”

  “I don’t think so,” I snuffled angrily. “It’s too specific. It’s only me he doesn’t remember. Lokesh did this.”

  “I suspect you are right, but let’s not lose all hope. Let’s give him enough time to recover from his injuries before we become too worried. He needs to rest, and we’ll try to expose him to things that will jar his memory. Meanwhile, I will contact Phet to see if he might have an herbal remedy to help with this.”

  Ren held up a hand. “Before you all subject me to tests and herbs and trips down memory lane, I’d just like to have a little time to myself.”

  With that, he left the room. More tears came to my eyes.

  I stammered, “I think I’d like a little time alone too,” and hobbled away. When I made it to the stairs, after painfully slow progress, I paused. I gripped the banister hard, my vision blurred with tears. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to bury my wet face in Kishan’s chest, sobbing. I knew it wasn’t fair to seek comfort from Kishan and cry over his brother, but I couldn’t help myself.

  He put his arm under my knees and picked me up. Cradling me close, he carried me up the stairs. After he laid me on my bed, he went to the bathroom, came back with a box of tissues, and set it on the nightstand. Kishan murmured a few words in Hindi, smoothed the hair back from my face, pressed a kiss on my brow, and left me alone.

  Late that afternoon, Nilima came to see me.

  I was sitting in my room in the white chair, clutching my stuffed tiger. I’d spent the morning crying and sleeping. She hugged me and sat down on the couch.

  “He doesn’t know me,” I whispered.

  “You must give him time. Here, I’ve brought you a snack.”

  “I’m not hungry.”