Tiger's Destiny
“It’s from Norse mythology. I won’t go into all the details but when the weapon enters flesh, the barbs pop out. The only way to remove it is to,” I swallowed thickly, “cut it out.”
Ren grunted. “Good to know.”
“Are you prepared?” Shala called across the battlefield.
I pressed Durga’s brooch into Kishan’s hand and heard him mumble, “Armor and shield.”
The brooch grew, encompassing his upper arm in gold and swiftly moved across his entire body, covering him in gleaming black and gold armor. The brooch became a handle, and circular segments flipped out, snapping into place until Kishan had a large shield with a roaring black tiger on the front.
Ren held out his hand for the other brooch. His fingers clasped mine briefly before he whispered some words in Hindi and his own brooch began to grow. Segments flipped over and around his limbs, connecting with a weighty snap. Soon his body was protected as well, encased in armor of silver and black. His heavy shield sported a snarling white tiger.
I helped thread the trident through Ren’s belt and then knelt to pull my bow and arrows from my pack.
Ren’s gloved hand soon covered mine. “What are you doing, Kelsey?”
“Fighting with you,” I replied and pushed some stray hair from my eyes.
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“I’ll shoot from a distance.”
Ren was about to say something else when a fire erupted in my hands. The bow and arrows burst into flame and disappeared.
Wyea suddenly appeared behind me in a circle of flame. “You are the prize, my dear, not a warrior.”
“I think I’ve heard this before. I’m done sitting on the sidelines. I wish to fight for my own freedom. Surly you can’t begrudge me that.”
The burning form of Shala materialized next to his brother. “Why are we waiting?”
“She wishes to fight,” Wyea explained.
“She may not.”
Wyea wiped some black dust from his armor. “I admire her spirit. Perhaps we should let her.”
“No,” Ren and Kishan admonished at the same time.
“See how protective they are? This battle will be memorable.”
Biting my lip, I came to a decision. “Alright. I’ll watch this time— under one condition. You two,” I pointed to the twins, “have to make it a fair fight. No . . . dematerializing or throwing them over the cliff.”
The Lords of the Flame shrugged.
“It will be fair,” Wyea said, “but you will accept the winners without argument, whomever they may be. Agreed?”
“Wait a second, Kells,” Ren started.
“Agreed,” I announced and shook their hands before Ren or Kishan could intervene. “But understand one thing . . . you cheat and it’s no holds barred. I get to use all the power at my disposal on you.”
“We accept.” Wyea grinned and boldly stroked my cheek.
With a grunt I shoved his hand away. “You haven’t won anything yet so keep your hands to yourself.”
The twin brothers laughed then disappeared, and a trumpet was sounded.
“I guess that means it’s time,” I mumbled. I kissed Kishan on the cheek and whispered, “That’s for good luck.”
He smiled, and I turned to Ren. “Bhagyashalin, Ren.”
“See you on the other side, Kells.”
I pressed my lips to his cheek. “Be careful,” I admonished as I brushed the hair from his eyes, and the two men I loved headed into battle with the Lords of the Flame.
As they walked away, I wondered if my promise to remain on the sidelines would end up costing one or both of them their lives.
22
the heat of battle
Ren and Kishan moved into position. Wyea made the first move and charged at Ren with his deadly spear. He spun at the last moment, and the morning star struck Ren’s shield with a loud clash. Ren attacked with his sword, but the heavy weapon only glanced off Wyea’s armguard.
Kishan and Shala circled each other until, with a battle cry, Kishan attacked. He went straight for Shala’s head. The fire Lord parried with the edge of his staff, but Kishan’s blow was so powerful that Shala staggered back a few steps and had to readjust his helmet. Then he smiled, twirled his staff a few times, and hit Kishan so hard that Kishan spun off balance.
Quick as a bullet, Shala rolled his weapon across his shoulders and jabbed the sharp end into the unprotected spot where the armor met at Kishan’s shoulder. Kishan grunted and moved away. The blade came out slick with Kishan’s blood.
Shala laughed and called out, “I drew first blood, brother.”
“But I will have the first defeat,” Wyea boasted.
He’d been effectively clubbing Ren’s shield until it was bent with the force of his attacks, and when Ren made a risky move to plunge his sword into Wyea’s chest, the Lord simply disappeared and reappeared next to Ren. With a mighty blow from the fire Lord, Ren’s shield flew from his grasp and he fell to one knee.
I shouted, “That’s cheating!” but they ignored me.
Deftly, Ren rolled away from his opponent and stood ready with his sword in one hand and the trident in the other. He struck away the spear with his sword and shot darts with the trident. The missiles dented Wyea’s armor and one grazed his neck. Wyea touched the wound and rubbed the wet blood between his fingers.
“So you have some claws after all!”
“You have no idea,” Ren responded and charged.
Wyea renewed his attack.
Meanwhile, Kishan leapt over Shala’s blade as he swept Kishan’s feet. The other end of the staff was racing in a perfect arc to decapitate Kishan, but Kishan raised his shield and fortunately the weapon glanced off. With Shala’s back turned, Kishan stabbed him under the arm, twisting his sword as he withdrew. Shala cried out and spun angrily, raising his weapon over his head.
Shala brought his weapon down with a heavy clash—just as Kishan’s sword rose to meet it. The two men shoved off each other, and Shala threw a fire ball at Kishan’s head. Kishan ducked and launched the chakram into the air. It struck Shala’s back on its return and imbedded itself into his armor.
Enraged, Shala yanked the chakram out and dropped it onto the black soil. His blood coated the sharp edge.
“Now we’re even,” Kishan said.
Shala sneered. “You won’t be saying that when I take your woman.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“You forget. I’m immortal. Your lifetimes are as the blink of an eye to me.”
Shala snapped the flat side of the blade across Kishan’s neck in a mocking blow. Kishan fell to the ground, grabbed the chakram, and did a kick-stand, ending with the chakram positioned across the fire Lord’s throat.
“Here’s some news,” Kishan said, “I’m immortal too, and I’ll remove your head in the blink of an eye before I let you anywhere near Kelsey.” He pressed the chakram into Shala’s throat. “Now . . . do you concede?” he asked.
The Lord of the Flame smiled. “Fire never concedes.”
Shala’s body grew red hot, but still Kishan held on though he grunted in pain. The skin on the fire Lord’s face sizzled and his entire body turned black. A stiff wind blew around him and the ashes of his form were swept to a new location a short distance from Kishan. There the ashes swirled into the shape of the man and, with the snap of his fingers, he was whole once more. Shala had cheated again.
“Nice trick,” Kishan admitted.
Shala smiled. “It comes in handy. Now where were we? Ah, I was about to kill you and take your woman.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
Kishan ran, flipping over the fire Lord entirely, twisting in the air and attempting to carve Shala’s back as he came down, but Shala sidestepped before Kishan made contact. As Kishan landed nimbly on his feet, Shala whipped his staff in a windmill, attacking with a flurry of strikes until Kishan staggered under the assault and dropped his shield. With a triumpha
nt shout, Shala thrust the sharp edge of his blade into the middle of Kishan’s breastplate. Kishan’s armor seemed to stop the weapon, or at least most of its progress. Shala was unable to dislodge the staff so Kishan wrapped his hands around it and held on. The two engaged in a tug-of-war for the staff until finally Kishan raised the chakram and brought it down, severing it.
Shala reeled away with the broken piece of his weapon while Kishan yanked the other piece from his armor. It made an awful shearing sound. His hands shook, and I gasped when I saw the tip was covered with blood. Panting, he bent over and threw the broken end of the staff at the fire Lord’s feet.
Furious, Shala picked up his ruined weapon and circled Kishan. “Did you think this would stop me? I told you! Fire . . . doesn’t . . . yield!”
Flames shot down his arms and ignited the pieces of the staff. He twirled them, one in each hand and attacked again.
Another burst of flame from the other side of the field caught my attention. Ren had wrestled Wyea to the ground, and the two were rolling dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Ren’s sword and trident were missing, and the Gáe Bolga was nowhere to be seen. The fire Lord stopped them at the cliff edge and pressed Ren’s head back as if trying to push him over.
Chunks of broken turf cascaded over the side and dropped to the valley floor far below. Ren brought up his hands and wrapped them around Wyea’s throat. With a mighty shove, Ren rolled the two of them away from the cliff and proceeded to strangle Wyea. But the twin Lord brought his palms up to Ren’s chest and a stream of fire shot out from each hand like a flamethrower. Crying out, Ren rolled away and got to his feet. His armor was smoking and charred.
Wyea stood, cracked his neck, and said, “I think it’s time we made this more interesting.”
The ground began to shake. Wyea mumbled something and raised his hands slowly into the air. As black soil cracked, sooty puffs exhaled all over the ground, leaving the arena riddled with holes. Still the fire Lord chanted.
Shala shoved Kishan to the ground near his brother. They looked down on my tigers with a maniacal gleam in their eyes. The arena shifted. All four fighters rose into the air, positioned on top of black poles that emerged from the ground. The battlefield looked like the bulletin board in the language lab at Western Oregon University where Artie worked— no notes, just hundreds of pins placed in perfect symmetry, Artie style. For a minute, I almost wished we were back in the safety of my hometown, where my biggest foe was Artie and his datebook planner.
Each pillar was no bigger than six inches in diameter and positioned two feet apart on every side. I walked up to the wall of posts high above my head and rubbed my fingers against one. It was blackish brown in color and as smooth and shiny as glass. Looking at my tigers perched precariously above reminded me of the crane move from The Karate Kid. But I knew this was no movie, and it was going to take a lot more than just the power of the underdog to win a happy ending.
Wasting no time, I asked the Scarf to weave a ladder between two pillars and scrambled up quickly. When I reached the top, I carefully placed each foot on a post and balanced my weight between them. A burst of flame hit Ren, and he fell between the black posts. Worried, I scanned the dangerous path ahead and saw the twin Lords gleefully balancing on their respective poles while Kishan jumped from pillar to pillar to get to Ren.
Kishan lay across the top of several posts, steadied himself, and held out a hand.
“Jump!” he shouted.
With a tremendous effort, he pulled Ren up between the obsidian trunks and rolled to the side to make room for his brother.
As Ren got to his feet, he touched a place on his chest and his armor folded up and shrunk back into a brooch form. Kishan hooked his chakram onto his belt and did the same thing. The Lords of the Flame bowed in a mocking way and with the snap of their fingers, their armor disappeared as well.
Kishan waved his golden sword, but the only weapon Ren had left was the trident. The fire Lords moved closer. Ren jumped from pole to pole and executed an aerial corkscrew. His feet impacted solidly with Shala’s chest, causing the fire twin to fall heavily atop the columns. Ren landed with perfect balance and resumed a fighting stance. Shala almost fell between the pillars but clutched the top of one and rolled to his feet.
As Ren moved in to attack again, Shala recovered, twisted his hand, and threw a ball of fire. The blast hit Ren squarely in the chest. He flew back several feet and started to fall between the pillars. At the last moment, Ren extended the trident to its full length across two poles. When he whipped his body back into the air like a gymnast on a high bar, Shala was prepared for him. He brought out his barbed whips and snapped them one after the other, pummeling Ren mercilessly. Ren spun in the air, rolled across the top of the pillars, and dropped the trident. I sucked in a breath as the weapon fell between the columns, landing too far below to retrieve.
In an impressive display, Ren charged Shala, twisting his body in the air, and grabbed the end of first one whip, then the other. He snapped his arms violently apart and wrenched the weapons from Shala’s grasp. The ends slithered down the pillars as Shala tackled Ren—the two of them rolling dangerously atop the pillars.
Kishan fought Wyea with his sword and managed to dislodge the spear from Wyea’s hands. It soared through the air until the heavy morning star propelled the weapon down between the pillars. Wyea backflipped impressively and reached down between the columns to grab his spear, but Kishan was on him too fast. Wyea rolled away a split second before Kishan’s foot crashed down.
Using his momentum to rotate in a backward crescent kick, Kishan regained his balance and tornado-kicked Wyea in the face. He brought his sword up under Wyea’s chin, but the fire Lord murmured a few words and Kishan’s sword grew so hot he could no longer hold it. Kishan’s scorched flesh healed as his weapon fell to the ground.
With no weapons left, Ren and Kishan turned the battle into a martial arts brawl unlike anything I’d seen before. Ren targeted Shala’s vulnerable spots with the eagle claw technique. Kishan employed the monkey approach. He stayed very close to Wyea, tearing at his torso and arms and even darted up Wyea’s leg only to leap over him to land on Shala’s turned back.
Ren had to constantly block the spinning blades of Shala, and he and Kishan ended up switching places often throughout the battle. Ren heel-kicked Shala and reverse-punched Wyea while Kishan grabbed Wyea’s arm and flipped him. Then Kishan hook-punched Shala before he could attack Ren.
Just as quickly, the tables turned and the fire Lords claimed the upper hand. Wyea shot a stream of flame at Kishan’s chest. In pain and seriously injured, Kishan ripped off his shirt before it engulfed him and collapsed on top of the pillars. Seconds later, Shala flung a broken piece of his staff at Ren. The razor-sharp edge glinted in the light as it rotated in the air and imbedded itself in Ren’s back. Kishan caught Ren as he fell and somehow managed to keep them on top of the pillars.
Pulling the weapon out, Kishan threw it violently down between the poles and held onto his brother while the twin Lords mocked.
“Was that the best you could do?” Wyea taunted.
“They barely put up a fight at all. It’s disappointing, really.” Shala sighed and ran his thumb along the edge of his remaining blade.
Wyea smiled smugly in my direction. “At least we won the girl. Come, brother, we don’t have much time.”
“It’s for the best,” Shala said, picking up Ren by the shirt. “Neither of you were man enough to keep your woman anyway.”
He thrust Ren back into Kishan’s arms, and the twins started toward me.
I narrowed my eyes as they approached and brought my hand to the Pearl Necklace, remembering that my fire power was useless in this realm. There was no way I was going to go without a fight.
The brothers were halfway to me when I saw Ren and Kishan rise up as tigers behind them. They leapt, claws extended, and pushed the fire Lords down. They ripped at their backs and arms with claws and teeth until the twins
fell between the pillars. The cats nimbly circled, heads angled down, watching the Lords of the Flame as if they were mice chased into a hole. Ren and Kishan snarled and growled as they paced.
Suddenly a stream of fire shot up between the pillars, and the tigers darted away from the flames. Implacable, the fire Lords emerged in a swirl of flame and stood on top of the columns.
Shala spat, “Got a second wind, did you?”
Ren and Kishan morphed back into men. I let out a pent-up breath, seeing that they were completely healed.
Kishan smiled menacingly. “It will take a much stronger man than either of you to bring us down.”
“Kelsey will never belong to you. That I promise,” Ren threatened.
Shala and Wyea lifted their arms. Fire flowed down Wyea’s extended limbs and shot toward Ren. What looked like throwing stars made of flame just missed Kishan as he leapt to the side.
Kishan turned on Wyea and landed a series of punches and elbow strikes, then pivoted and did an inside sweep on Shala. Meanwhile, Ren leapt over the fallen Shala and cross-blocked a downward hammer-fist strike Wyea had aimed at Kishan’s head. Unsuccessfully, Ren tried to target pressure points: joints, the throat, the eyes, and the ears. But the twin fire Lords recovered too quickly for the open-handed jabs to be effective.
The Lords of the Flame repeatedly shot streams of fire and burning throwing stars at Ren and Kishan. I shouted that they were cheating again, but they ignored me.
Finally, Ren and Kishan seemed to have the advantage. They pressed the twins until the Lords of the Flame stood back to back. All four of the men were now extremely weary.
Kishan kicked Wyea across the face, and the fire Lord collapsed. Leaning over him, Kishan yelled through gritted teeth, “Do you submit?”
Wyea spat blood, and the crimson liquid trickled from his mouth. “Never.”
The twin closed his eyes and mumbled some words. A clicking noise surrounded us on all sides.
“What is it?” I called out. “What did you do?”
The clicking sound got closer, and I gaped in horror as a giant red creature emerged to crawl across the top of the pillar near me. It was a scorpion! It popped up on the top of the column, followed by dozens more. One of them struck at me with its tail. Panicking, I blasted it with a lightning bolt, but it absorbed the power and actually grew bigger.