Page 7 of Tiger's Destiny

Something strange is going on.

  “Yes. A shark. But we got the Pearl Necklace for you. See?”

  I showed her the Necklace, which she studied with a smile.

  “Yes, I am glad. This gift will be very much needed in your next quest.” Durga’s eyes drifted to my face, and she took my hands with motherly concern. “Your hardest days lay ahead, my precious one.”

  “You must help her,” she addressed Ren. “Shore her up. A cleansing comes—a burning of the heart and soul. When the three of you emerge from this you will be stronger, but there will be times when you may be tempted to ask for the burden to be lifted from your shoulders.

  “Kelsey will need both of you in the days ahead. Think not of yourselves or of your dreams, but focus on what you need to do to save her and on what you must do to save the rest of us. We are all depending on you.”

  “The tigers get to be men full time after we find the next prize, right?” I asked.

  Durga answered thoughtfully, “The form of the tiger was given to them for a purpose and soon that purpose will be realized. When this fourth task is completed, they will have the opportunity to separate themselves from the tiger. Come and take your last weapons.”

  From her belt, the goddess drew a golden sword and, in one quick motion, split the blade into two weapons. With a flash of her arms, she spun the swords in each hand, twirling the weapons until both blades rested at Ren’s and Kishan’s throats. Her eyes gleamed with delight.

  Ren demurred, and the goddess tossed him a sword, which he accepted gracefully. But she kept the tip of the other pressed against Kishan’s throat. His eyes tightened slightly, and I wondered if he was going to challenge the goddess.

  Durga grinned at Kishan and twirled the sword again, but he anticipated her actions and avoided the blade. They did a deadly dance together, and Durga seemed delighted by his prowess. After a moment, she cornered Kishan, who froze, this time with the blade aimed at his heart.

  I sucked in a breath while she teased, “Not to worry, my dear Kelsey, for the black tiger’s heart is very hard to pierce.”

  Kishan glared at the beautiful goddess in fighting stance. Her orange gown was slit from hem to mid-thigh, and I couldn’t help but notice her taut and lovely long leg.

  She might not be perfect, but her legs sure are. Even when I was practicing wushu regularly in Oregon, my legs never looked that good.

  A scowling Kishan appeared to be noticing the same thing. His gaze traveled from her bare leg up her face, and when she raised a mocking eyebrow, he glowered at her.

  I put my hand on his arm. “Kishan, she’s just demonstrating how to use the sword. Relax.”

  He did, but the goddess grinned as if she could read his mind. He batted the blade away from his chest before sullenly taking the sword. The goddess straightened and removed two brooches from her golden belt. Taking a step down from the dais, she pinned one on Ren’s clothing and the other on Kishan’s. Kishan stood immobile, nodded hesitantly, and watched her every move as the goddess demonstrated how to use the seemingly innocuous pins.

  Durga covered Kishan’s brooch with her palm and spoke. “Armor and shield.”

  Immediately the brooch grew and golden metal shot out in every direction, encasing Kishan’s body. Soon, he was wearing a suit of armor and was holding his sword and a shield.

  Durga pressed the brooch again and whispered, “Bruucha, brooch.” The suit of armor shrank back down until it was only a gleaming decoration once more. “Perhaps it would be better for the time being for you to remain in these . . .” she said in a low, sultry voice, running her hand over Kishan’s broad shoulder, “modern clothes. I have a weakness for handsome men dressed in battle gear.”

  Kishan’s expression changed to one of surprise.

  What was going on? Durga had never flirted with Kishan this . . . blatantly before. It was as if we were watching a badly acted soap opera.

  “These brooches were created especially for the two of you,” Durga continued. She stared into Kishan’s eyes; the heat between them was palpable. “Do you like my gift, ebony one?” she asked softly.

  Kishan sucked in a breath, stepped forward, and took her hand in his. “I think you are . . . I mean, I think it is . . . incredible. Thank you, Goddess,” he said and kissed her fingers.

  “Hmm,” she smiled appreciatively. “You are welcome.”

  Ren growled softly, and Mr. Kadam finally broke the tension.

  “Perhaps, we had best begin our journey. Unless you have more to tell us . . . Goddess?”

  Durga immediately took a step away from Kishan, who looked at her like she was a tasty morsel he wanted to devour. She returned his gaze, and the looks that passed between them were steamy enough to melt the stone floor.

  Durga glanced at Mr. Kadam and nodded her head. “I have said all that is necessary. Until we meet again, my friends.”

  Her features began to solidify and desperately, I asked, “When will we meet again?”

  Durga smiled and winked at me. Then flames rose around her body, obscuring our view, and when the fire diminished, she was an eight-armed statue once again. I stepped up to the dais and held out my arm for Fanindra, who stretched out and wrapped herself around my upper arm, settling into her normal position.

  As I turned back, I jerked, shocked to hear an angry voice echoing in the quiet temple.

  “That was entirely inappropriate!” Ren spat at his brother and punched him in the face.

  destiny

  Kishan rubbed his jaw and glared at Ren.

  “If I ever see you treat Kelsey that way again, I’ll do a hell of a lot more than just knock some sense into you. I highly encourage you to apologize. Do I make myself clear, little brother?” Ren’s tirade continued.

  Kishan’s eyes widened, and then he nodded meekly.

  “Good. We’ll wait for you outside, Kelsey,” Ren said and left, with Mr. Kadam trailing in his wake.

  “He’s right. I apologize. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry, Kells.” Kishan wrapped his arms around me. “You’re still my girl, aren’t you?”

  I nodded against his chest, and he took my hand and led me outside.

  “You can be mad at me if you want. Go insanely jealous and beat me down. I deserve it.”

  The odd thing was . . . I wasn’t jealous. I was more curious than angry. Making a mental note to discuss it with Mr. Kadam later, I hurried along the path and was shocked to see that all the ice and snow around the temple had melted.

  Going down the mountain path was much easier than going up, but both brothers insisted on holding my arms as we descended, just in case I slipped. By the time we passed Katra, I was dead tired and not sure I could make it the last mile.

  Mr. Kadam, who was usually so accommodating, insisted that we keep going and even suggested that one of the boys carry me. I sighed and trudged on slowly until Kishan picked me up and cradled me in his arms. I was asleep by the time we finally arrived back at camp.

  While I rested my sore feet by the fire, I was able to sneak in a private conversation with Mr. Kadam.

  “Mr. Kadam, I . . . well, I just wanted to know what you thought about Durga and Kishan. I’m not sure how I feel about what happened in the temple. You saw it too, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I . . . yes, I noticed.”

  “Should I be concerned? About Kishan, I mean?” I squirmed under Mr. Kadam’s gaze. “The old myths talk about gods falling in love with mortals and even having children with them. Do you think Durga has a thing for Kishan? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

  Mr. Kadam looked up at the starry night sky and then smiled at me. Gently, he said, “How do you feel?”

  “I feel . . . like I should be really upset, but I’m not, and that bothers me a little. I trust Kishan. I believe he loves me.”

  “You’re right about trusting him. Kishan wouldn’t be with a goddess when he has you. He loves you.”

  “I know he does, but Ren was so upset.”


  Mr. Kadam sighed. “Ren . . . loves you, too. He confronts anything that threatens those he loves. He has always given of himself, even to the point of setting aside his own desires, to make sure that others have the things they need. In war, he would rather ride to the front lines and place himself in harm’s way before allowing his men to die.”

  Yep. Sounds like Ren. I nodded. “I’ve seen this first-hand. He broke up with me because he couldn’t save me when I almost drowned. He sacrificed himself so Kishan could get me away from Lokesh’s henchmen. He constantly pushes me away to save my life.”

  Sagely, Mr. Kadam inclined his head. “Ren will always jump to your defense. That is how he shows his love for you, Miss Kelsey.”

  What if that’s not the kind of love I need? I thought.

  Mr. Kadam continued. “Kishan was the opposite in battle. The win was more important to him than how he won. He would also protect those he loved and would also ride to the front lines, but his purpose was to challenge himself, to lead the other warriors and to inspire them.

  “Both Ren and Kishan have changed much over the years. They have matured, becoming better men than they once were. Kishan has become more outwardly focused. He no longer tries to win at any cost, and he has learned that a victory for his team can also be a victory for himself, even if he doesn’t wield the sword.

  “Ren’s dreams have turned inward. Once, he faced armies, fought for his people, and sought peace for his country, but now he yearns for a soul mate. He wants a family of his own and someone to love.” Mr. Kadam steepled his fingers, pausing to listen to the crackling of the burning wood. “Both men love you in their own manner, in the fullest way they are capable of. I believe the goddess Durga holds a certain fascination for Kishan, because he recognizes a kindred spirit. She is much the way that he used to be.

  “Durga is a warrior in her own right, and she challenged him by holding the sword at his throat. The old Kishan would have immediately risen to that dare, but your hand on his arm held him back. I would not see this as a cause to doubt Kishan’s affection for you.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled.

  Mr. Kadam squeezed my fingers, just as the brothers approached.

  Kishan sat down near the fire and pulled me into his arms. “Time for our bedtime story. What Greek god are we going to hear about tonight?”

  I stroked his arm and smirked, teasing him. “I think tonight I’ll tell you about Zeus’s many affairs with mortal women and how his wife, Hera, punished them all.”

  Ren snickered while Kishan winced. But he sat still, determined to get back into my good graces and said sweetly, “I will endeavor to treasure every word that passes from your lips, my goddess.”

  I elbowed him, but he only chuckled.

  “And don’t you forget it, my friend.”

  Quietly, he whispered, “I won’t, love,” and kissed my ear.

  Ren stopped laughing and grumbled, “Get on with the story.”

  During my often embellished verbal chastisement about unfaithful men, Mr. Kadam retrieved his Samurai sword from its velvet case and polished it in the firelight.

  The wooden logs had turned to glowing coals by the time my story neared its end. Mr. Kadam stared into the flames quietly, his sword resting on his lap. I finished with, “And that’s what happens when spouses cheat,” when we heard a familiar, twisted voice.

  “I must say, your choice of bedtime stories proved most prophetic this evening. You are a woman of many gifts, my dear.”

  My heart slammed into my throat, and I clutched Kishan’s arm. Thanks to Ren and Kishan, I had learned how to remain calm when confronting dangerous creatures, and I was proud of my ability to fight back without flinching. The only exception to the rule had just stepped into the light of the fire and stared at me hungrily.

  Lokesh had found us.

  Ren and Kishan immediately bound to their feet and grabbed their weapons. Mr. Kadam reached out to touch the three of us—and then all movement stopped. I felt my body lurch. I was being sucked into something from the inside out. My molecules were being squeezed tightly together, and my guts were rotating toward a vacuum. Suddenly, my body felt as if it was being compressed like a data file, pushing me toward a drain with a suction so strong, I couldn’t fight it. In a second, I was spinning in a black void. Then a tiny light penetrated the darkness.

  With a disturbing pop, I materialized next to Kishan behind a line of thick shrubbery, about twenty-five feet from our campfire. Mr. Kadam smiled and removed his hand from my shoulder.

  “What . . . what just happened? How did we get here?” I asked, disoriented.

  Mr. Kadam replied, “I moved us through space. There isn’t much time to explain.” He squeezed Ren’s shoulder; then put his other hand on Kishan’s. “My princes, my sons, you have trusted me since you were young, and I ask you to trust me again. You must do something for me, and you must obey my exact instructions. Will you do this?”

  Ren and Kishan nodded. Mr. Kadam continued, “Do not, under any circumstances, leave this spot until Lokesh is gone. No matter what you see and hear, you must not interfere! Give me your warrior’s vow.”

  Mr. Kadam clasped their hands. Together, they repeated a mantra I’d never heard before.

  “Yours in life, yours in death. We vow to respect the wisdom of our leaders, remain ever vigilant in our duty, exhibit bravery in the face of death, and demonstrate compassion in the same way we would have it given to those we love.”

  Then together, Kishan and then Ren touched their foreheads to Mr. Kadam’s.

  Soberly, he said, “Your charge is Kelsey. Lokesh must not find her. Protect her at all costs. Think only of her and block out everything else. This is the only way to defeat him. No matter what happens, if you wish to honor me, you must do this.”

  With that said, Mr. Kadam disappeared into thin air.

  “What’s happening?” I whispered, more than just a little afraid.

  At that moment we heard voices carried on the wind from the other side of the brush. Ren edged closer to the greenery, and we peered at our campsite through the thick branches. The fire we’d been standing next to a few moments before was crackling again. And in front of the dancing flames were Mr. Kadam and Lokesh.

  I stood up, but before I could take a step, Ren and Kishan tackled me to the ground.

  “What are you doing? We need to help him! We have all the weapons!”

  Ren whispered, “We gave him the warrior’s vow.”

  “So?”

  “We won’t break it. It’s a warrior’s code, and Kadam has never asked it of us before. It’s only used when a plan needs to be followed without deviation. If even one person does not fulfill their duty, the endeavor is lost,” Kishan explained.

  “Well, he didn’t think this through! Mr. Kadam’s not in his right mind!” I argued futilely.

  Through the shrubs, we could see Lokesh clearly. I stifled a gasp. Half of his face was burned badly and his damaged eyelid drooped. The hair on that side had been burned away. There were shiny scars around his neck where we’d strangled him, and he walked with a slight limp.

  “Where have you taken them, my friend? It seems you still have some tricks up your sleeve.” Lokesh asked in an almost desperate, raspy voice.

  “Somewhere they will be safe,” Mr. Kadam answered.

  Mr. Kadam lifted his Samurai sword, blew on its surface, and slid his finger along the blade.

  “I know you want the amulet. Unlike my sons, I have no weapon with which to fight you other than my old sword. Be that as it may, I will endeavor to protect them with my life.”

  “It will come to that in due time.” Lokesh fixed his good eye on Mr. Kadam’s amulet greedily and asked, “Would you like to tell me of your amulet’s power so that a few minutes of your life might be spared?”

  Mr. Kadam shrugged. “It provides a healing power. From what I hear, you should be dead already.” He gestured to Lokesh’s face. “It would seem that your power doesn’t
heal you as well as mine does.”

  Lokesh spat at the dirt angrily. “We will test that out soon enough. How did you move them?”

  “Would you like the opportunity to win my piece of the amulet fairly?” Mr. Kadam countered. “No amulets, sorcery, or black magic. Just two warriors fighting hand to hand, steel on steel, as if we were still a part of the old world.”

  Lokesh scrutinized his opponent for a moment, and then smoothly, with just a hint of mockery, he said, “You wish to die as a warrior. I have been a warrior long enough to understand and empathize with your request. I ask you, though, what of your healing? Surely, this fight would not be fair.”

  “The healing is not instantaneous. Deal me a crippling blow, and you will be able to easily remove my piece of the amulet. That is, unless you’re afraid to fight an old man.”

  “Fear does not motivate me.” Lokesh peered into the darkness focusing on right where we were sitting as if he were considering his options.

  I sucked in a breath, and Ren quietly let the foliage fall back to its natural shape.

  “It shames me to say this, old friend, but I find that I am not as enthusiastic to continue this discussion as I should be. My mind has been bewitched, and there will be no rest for me—not until the young Ms. Hayes and I are reconciled. I believe I’d rather seek my reluctant bride first and teach her a lesson. She’s close, my comrade, even now. I can sense her. But, rest assured, I’ll return to deal with you later.”

  He took a step toward the jungle, then halted when Mr. Kadam took a few practice swings with his sword and warned, “You won’t find her easily.”

  Lokesh spun. “On the contrary, I found you in this wilderness. I’ve had spies watching the temples of Durga for some time. She’s near, and I won’t be thwarted any longer.”

  I gasped, and the sound was enough to make Lokesh and Mr. Kadam stop talking and peer into the trees.

  Mr. Kadam swung his sword menacingly. Distracted, Lokesh turned back to watch. “You have a master’s touch, my friend.”

  Mr. Kadam stopped and held up his sword so Lokesh could admire it. “It’s exquisite, is it not?”