Tiger's Destiny

by Colleen Houck

  “Why have you come here?” a guard interrogated. “Why do you disturb our leaders at this most sacrosanct time?”

  Ren lifted an eyebrow, but I jumped in before he could say anything.

  “Brave warriors, we did not mean to cause alarm. We have been traveling and have news of the Rakshasa queen. We believe that the information is important enough to justify this intrusion.

  “The Rakshasa queen has worked a terrible magic upon us. She tried to prevent us from warning your people.”

  Ren added a personal story of the Rakshasa queen torturing him. I assumed that it had really happened, and it wasn’t a stretch for me to murmur sympathetically and take his hand. I dropped my head sadly and managed to squeeze out a tear.

  This seemed to convince the guards that we were sincere.

  “Come with us,” a warrior ordered.

  We followed two of the guards up the temple staircase while the others resumed their positions. At a terrace halfway up, we turned into a marble hallway and descended a crystal staircase that led to the center of the structure. The sides of the pyramid stretched upward until they met at a peak high above us. From this vantage point, the facets of the crystal looked like sparkling windows set at multiple angles.

  Like the hallway, the floor of the temple’s inner chamber was ivory marble streaked with gold. Fire trees stretched their leafy fingers to the top of the pyramid and framed a pair of statues depicting the Lords of the Flame seated on golden thrones. Life-sized Qilin, a likeness of the Phoenix, and other beasts were carved out of gleaming stone and served as the centerpieces for assorted fountains that flowed with bright reddish-orange lava. Warm steam rose from the fountains.

  As we walked past, Ren and Kishan gingerly touched the hot liquid and said it felt refreshing.

  The guard led us to a new section of the temple that was more beautiful than what I’d already seen. There were more statues, including a towering ivory marble carving of a lovely woman kneeling. Long hair swept past her waist and fire flowers were braided through her tresses. Her chiseled lips were full and lush, and the folds of her draped gown pooled onto the smooth floor. Fresh flowers were strewn around her. This lovely girl could be none other than the beloved Lawala.

  The guard pulled back a sheer curtain, and I saw the Lords of the Flame reclining comfortably near the young woman from the lava lake. The two men fed her tidbits and filled her goblet as they murmured to her softly. A woman was brushing the girl’s long brown tresses while another rubbed cream onto her skin.

  The girl didn’t look like a Bodha. Her skin was white and unblemished by tattoos. The Lords kept finding reasons to touch her. They held her hand and kissed her fingers. The women were constantly ordered to do one thing or another to make her comfortable. They fluffed her pillows and smoothed her dress. Nobody noticed us. It was almost as if we were invisible.

  I took a step forward, but the guard held me back and whispered, “We must wait for the ritual to be finished.”

  “What ritual?” I asked quietly.

  He shook his head and pressed his finger to his lips. Puzzled, I turned to watch.

  One of the Lords leaned toward the girl and said, “It is time, young one.”

  The other brother sat up and clapped his hands. Servants entered carrying a rectangular object draped with a silky material. The Lords of the Flame stood, gently pulled the young girl to her feet, and led her toward it.

  One of the Lords pulled off the silk covering to reveal a shining mirror and explained, “This mirror belonged to our beloved Lawala. We were promised that one day she would return to us.”

  The other man took over. “We ask you to gaze upon your reflection. If you are indeed our Lawala, you will assume your true form and we will rejoice together. If you are merely a girl sacrificed to the smoking mountains above, your body will change. You will become Bodha, a citizen of light.” He kissed her hand and added, “If you are my Lawala, you must choose me.”

  “If she is Lawala, she will recognize me as the one she loves,” the other brother replied darkly.

  The girl seemed frightened at his abrupt tone, but when he noticed, his expression lightened.

  “Are you ready?” he asked softly.

  She nodded and turned to the mirror. At first, nothing happened, but then a light seemed to grow from inside the curtained area. The girl pressed her hands to her face and shivered lightly. Her hair moved as if in a breeze and slowly the brown strands were replaced by thick white ones. Her skin lightened and began to glow, and when she took her hands from her face, I saw, reflected in the mirror, the flash of pink jewels over her eyes.

  I heard her soft voice, “I . . . I am Bodha,” she whispered as she looked at herself, admiring her gleaming skin and the jewels adorning her body.

  Then the Lords of the Flame’s hands tightened in fists. Their chests heaved, their bright skin dimmed, and their handsome faces twisted with bitter disappointment. They shook with an emotion so powerful, they could no longer contain it, and the floor under us rumbled.

  The temple plunged into shadow. Ren and Kishan took my arms when the floor rumbled again. The mirror cracked; broken pieces splintered and shattered onto the ground. I looked up through the panes of the temple and saw dark, angry clouds covering the entire sky.

  The girl screamed in alarm, and the servants quickly ushered her away.

  One of the brothers cried out, “Lawala!” and sunk to his knees while the other, in a feverish gesture, flung his hands out to the statue of Lawala. The lovely marble statue cracked. The fracture splintered across her face and down her torso and arms.

  “No, Shala!” Wyea shouted at his brother, but it was too late.

  The ivory marble had split. A broken arm crashed to the floor, and then the entire thing bent toward me, lips puckered, as if Lawala wanted to lay a smooth kiss upon my brow. Kishan scooped me in his arms, and he and Ren darted out of the way just before the heavy stone broke in pieces and fell right where we’d been standing.

  “I’m all right,” I reassured them, as Kishan set me on my feet. “Not even a scrape.”

  I felt Kishan tense, and I peeked around Ren to see what was going on. The two Lords of the Flame were quiet. The darkness in them diminished as they finally took notice of us. My heart fluttered in alarm as I realized both men had actually taken notice of me. They stared at me as if I was the center of the universe and strode purposely forward.

  Ren stepped instinctively in front of me and partially blocked their view, but the men didn’t waver.

  “I am Shala,” the Lord of the Flame announced and extended his hand to me.

  Gracefully, Wyea put a hand on Ren’s and Kishan’s shoulders and pushed gently. It was the softest of touches, but somehow it sent Ren and Kishan flying to the opposite sides of the room. They slid across the golden floor and thumped hard, unconscious, against the temple wall.

  I swallowed nervously and said the first dumb thing that came to my mind, “You . . . you’re twins!”

  Without missing a beat, Wyea asked, “Is there enough time?”

  “We have until the setting of the sun. At that time the cycle will be complete,” Shala replied.

  Then, as if on cue, the brothers smiled and said, “Welcome to Bodha, young one.”

  “You already met Shala. I am Wyea. Would you care for some refreshment?” Wyea offered. He tucked my hand under his arm and walked me to a chaise lounge.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” I said nervously, sending a mental flare to my tigers. “But I’m not Lawala.”

  Wyea chided, “Only the mirror can tell.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m already Bodha, see?” I pointed to my jeweled forehead. “I already passed your mirror test thing, and it didn’t pick me.”

  Shala touched my nose softly and smiled. “We would know if you were truly Bodha.”

  He snapped his fingers, and a tiny flame burned at his fingertips. It shot toward my body, and my Bodha disguise melted into my normal appearance. My
brown hair was braided. I even wore my regular clothes down to my favorite pair of sneakers.

  I sputtered, “Fine. You caught me. I’m not Bodha, but I didn’t come here through a volcano like your other girls either.”

  Thankfully, Ren and Kishan stirred and sprang to their feet. But the Lords of the Flame completely ignored them.

  “It matters not in the least how you came to be here,” Wyea declared.

  “And you are still a maiden, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to enter the inner chamber of the temple,” Shala said. “This means you are eligible for the test.”

  I blushed furiously and glanced briefly from Ren to Kishan to see if they’d overheard. Of course they did. Ren and Kishan both grinned until they saw each other’s smiles. As they crept closer, their bodies tensed. I could tell they were ready to pounce at any moment.

  Before I knew it, I had taken the place of the other girl from only a moment ago. Servants were bringing me delicious things to eat. The broken mirror was gone, and the statue of Lawala had mysteriously been rebuilt. The Lords of the Flame sat by my side, falling over themselves as they fawned over me.

  I craned my neck to see what Ren and Kishan were up to. Shala saw me looking for them and with a wave of his hand put up clear glass walls around us. I could no longer hear them, though I could see them call out to me. It was the exact opposite of Sunset’s crystal cage. Instead of being on the outside, now I was on the inside with a pair of twins I could hardly tell apart, and the two of them couldn’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.

  I pushed aside their hands and said, “Look, I already have more male attention than I know what to do with and though I’m flattered that you might think I’m your chosen one, I’m not interested.”

  Shala peered at Ren and Kishan. “Are they distracting you, my love? We can dispense with your young men easily enough.” He lifted his hand, and I quickly covered it with my own.

  “No, they aren’t a distraction. Please don’t hurt them.”

  He kissed my fingers. “As you wish.”

  “We desire only to please you,” added Wyea.

  “Yeah, I got that from watching your other date. You want to please me until you discover I’m not Lawala. Then you’ll have temper tantrums and the skies will darken and all the light will leech out of the city while you two feel sorry for yourselves.”

  “These dark feelings do not last,” Wyea explained. “And you will remain ours whether you are Lawala or not.”

  “What do you mean, ‘remain yours’?”

  “You will become one of our concubines until you are too old to please us. Then you will join the citizens of light.”

  I snorted. “Like I said, I’m not interested.”

  “Do not worry,” Shala quickly added, “you will not age rapidly. You will be ours for centuries.”

  “Okay. See, I’m planning on living happily ever after with one of them,” I said, gesturing to Ren and Kishan. “You could learn a thing or two about women from them. You see, neither of them would simply set me aside when I became old. Also, neither would have a harem on the side. What you’re offering simply doesn’t compare.”

  “But we can provide whatever you desire. Tell us what you wish for, and we will give it to you,” said Wyea.

  “Fine. What I wish for is a man who loves me—not a man who enslaves me so he can fill his lonely days with a warm body while he pines for another. What I desire is true love, and I don’t think that you can offer me that. You don’t even know what it means. If you truly loved this woman, Lawala, you would keep the memory of her in your hearts and not use other women in a sad attempt to find her. I don’t think she would have wanted that.”

  Wyea gripped my wrist and twisted it painfully. “You dare to assume what Lawala thought and felt?”

  “I’ve been loved by two brothers as well. That puts me in a unique position to understand your girlfriend, doesn’t it?” I rebuked abrasively.

  Shala took my elbow and turned me sharply toward him. His face was dark and angry.

  I laughed roughly. “Guess the honeymoon is over, huh?”

  He threatened, “You will take the test whether you wish to or not, my sweet, and you will learn to respect us and our power.”

  “Your power doesn’t concern me. Ren and Kishan have earned my respect. They’re better men than the two of you could ever be. I will never belong to either of you.”

  The twin Lords thrust me away, and I fell back onto some pillows.

  Shala shouted, “Bring the mirror! Now!”

  Servants bustled in with the newly restored mirror. Each man took one of my arms and dragged me to face the looking glass.

  Wyea ordered, “Look inside and tell me what you see.”

  Having had just about enough, I smiled at my reflection, lifted my palm, and blasted the mirror. Sharp pieces of glass shot into every direction. I ducked but was still cut in several places. Nothing serious, but I sucked in a breath at the sting. The Lords dropped my hands and took a step back.

  On the other side of the glass, Ren attacked the departing servant and pushed him through the wall face-first. The glass melted in front of him, allowing Ren and Kishan to tumble in after. They threw themselves between me and the Lords of the Flame.

  Pulling the golden sword from his belt, Kishan whipped it to the side and when he brought it back in front of him, it was full length. With a twist, the sword separated, and he tossed one to Ren.

  Kishan brandished his sword and asked, “Why don’t you two try bullying someone a little more your own size?”

  The twin brothers eyed Kishan . . . and laughed.

  “How entertaining,” Wyea remarked. “They wish to battle for their woman.”

  “Perhaps we should indulge them,” the other said. “They remind me of what we were like many, many lifetimes ago.”

  They sized up Ren and Kishan and seemed to come to a decision.

  Shala clapped his hands. A servant appeared, and Shala issued instructions. “Have the battlefield prepared and bring our weapons.”

  The servant hurried away, and a trumpet was sounded outside.

  “We’ll allow you some time to prepare yourselves,” Wyea offered. He snapped his fingers and fire leapt around us.

  “Wait! Listen!” I called out. “What we really came for is the—”

  It was too late. The fire encompassed us, and I felt a rush of nausea and dizziness.

  When the flames diminished, we were standing on a flat, rocky terrain high above the valley. It would be difficult if not impossible to get down. The temple twinkled beckoningly below. Across the valley expanse lay the black mountain.

  Briefly exploring our new locale, I discovered the stones underfoot were black and crumbled to dust when stepped on.

  “We’re on some kind of plateau on the edge of a mountaintop. The only way off is to leap across that chasm to the mountain or go down the cliff’s sheer face. It looks pretty far,” Kishan reported.

  We were discussing using the Divine Scarf to make a rope bridge when the ground shook. Two pillars of fire rose from the temple far below and twisted in the air. They wove back and forth like burning tornados, then touched down on the black soil where we stood. Circling flames diminished until they disappeared altogether.

  Standing before us were the Lords of the Flame. Shala’s long white hair was now a glossy black with deep red highlights, and it hung loose. He wore crimson armor and a coat of mail similar to the scales of the red dragon, Lóngjn. The devilish color seemed to suit his mood. Shala pursed his lips and twirled his weapon, a wicked double-bladed staff, menacingly. A pair of barbed whips hung from his belt as well. His eyes burned as he watched us.

  Wyea’s long hair was dark as well, but it was tied back at the nape of his neck. His copper-colored cape billowed in the breeze as he strode toward us. He carried a long spear, and I couldn’t help but notice the glint of weapons attached to his belt. Wyea’s armor was black and copper and a fierce lion was carved onto
his breastplate.

  The Lords of the Flame bowed to me, Ren, and Kishan and held out their weapons.

  “What is this?” Kishan asked cautiously.

  “It is our custom to present our weapons to our opponents before we engage in battle,” Wyea explained.

  I didn’t even have time to protest before Ren and Kishan took the offered weapons and bowed back, offering their golden swords, the chakram, and the trident for inspection.

  I hissed, “Don’t trust them!” but my disapproval fell onto deaf ears.

  Ren and Kishan bent their heads together, examining the weapons while the Lords of the Flame barely glanced at Durga’s gleaming arsenal. Instead, they spent their time inspecting me in a very disconcerting way. To get away from Wyea’s stripping-me-with-his-eyes and Shala’s wonder-what-you’d-be-like-as-my-concubine gazes, I moved behind Ren.

  Ren and Kishan briefly studied Shala’s staff, which I knew a little about, having heard Li go on about weapons after each martial arts film we watched. The shaft along the middle ended in polished gold guards and was crisscrossed with leather thongs, which would make it easier to grip. Long razor-sharp blades sprung from both ends. Each blade faced in an opposite direction and had a pointed tip.

  Wyea’s weapon appeared to be a morning star, a heavy studded mace attached with a chain on one side and a polished black spear with a large, pointed head on the other. But when Ren ran his thumb across the top, the head snapped as quickly as a mousetrap. Sharp barbs sprung out at every angle, and try as he might, Ren couldn’t get the weapon to reset. Wyea took it from him, and the barbs slid back into their hiding place. The handsome Lord handed Ren his trident and sword and admired his own weapon.

  “It’s beautiful, is it not?” Wyea asked, looking directly at me. With a cocky grin and a wink, he turned and said, “Whenever the two of you are ready.”

  Ren nodded mutely while the twin Lords moved toward the center of the battlefield.

  I put my hand onto Ren’s arm. “I know what that weapon is,” I whispered. “Mr. Kadam mentioned it. It’s a Gáe Bolga.”

  Kishan frowned. “What’s that?”