Tiger's Dream (Tiger's Curse Book 5)

by Colleen Houck

  I sucked in a deep breath, trying to swallow the pain I felt for this young person who’d suffered at the hands of the soulless turbaned man. “No,” I answered quietly. “I just can’t move my hand. I’m sorry he hurt you,” I told him. “We’re going to get free. All of us.”

  It took several more minutes for the boy to pick my lock. Then he moved to another cell. He’d opened several locks and had started working on the other side when we heard the click of boots on the floor above us. “Hurry back to your cell!” I said. “Don’t forget to shut your door and hide the knife!”

  The boy had just managed to get into his cell and shut the door when the cellar door opened. “Here’s your dinner,” the man said as he ladled a pungent stew into a bowl and shoved it toward the grasping hands of each child. When he reached the third cell, he banged his arm against it and the door creaked open.

  “You bleeding idiot!” the man said to his helper guard. “If the master found out you’d left the cage unlocked, he’d break your ankles and leave you in the desert to rot!” In disgust, he locked the door and then studied the next one. “This one too? Unbelievable! Check them all.”

  When they got to my cage, they both eyed me suspiciously, but I lay facing them, pressing my shirt to my mouth, and groaning. They searched me but found nothing. Continuing on, they methodically tested all the cages, and since only a few had been unlocked, the guard blamed his fellow rather than suspecting foul play.

  Once all of us had a bowl of stew and a cup of water, they opened Ana’s cage and pulled her out. “Master wants to see you,” the man said. They stood clear of me though I still lay prone near the wall. They must have heard the story of how I’d killed the other guard.

  The moment they disappeared and the cellar door closed, my young friend began picking his lock again. “Hurry,” I said. “I’ve got to help her.”

  When he opened his cage, he began frantically working on mine. Once mine was unlocked, I took the knife from him and headed to the cellar door. Even with the weapon, there was no way to open it. I cursed the fact that Ana was in the hands of the turbaned man and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

  The young man tugged at my shirt and asked if he should open the other cells. I shook my head and then explained since he couldn’t see me, “No, not tonight. We have to wait for the right opportunity. I need to figure out a plan of escape that will succeed.”

  We returned to our cages and I gave him my stew but drained the cup of water. I sat awake all that night with my head in my hands, imagining the terrible suffering my Ana was going through. This was my fault. If I had been a better tracker… If I hadn’t left the door to our home open… If I hadn’t run every time things became hard… Over and over I berated myself.

  Every day, I kept vigil over her small cage, watching her trembling limbs and the way she stared distantly at nothing. Every night, I made myself look as she was removed from her cage and taken upstairs to entertain the turbaned man. The man had only come down once to summon Ana himself. He stared directly at me as he did so, fully knowing he was breaking his promise. In the torchlight, I could see there was something different about him.

  His skin looked sallow. He’d lost flesh and the veins in his hands appeared dark, almost black beneath his skin. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and his fingers shook as he told his men to hurry. I remembered then the warning the phoenix had given me. He’d said that the heart of the phoenix within the truth stone would destroy anyone who used it to hurt others. Perhaps the turbaned man’s sickly mien was indicative of this.

  The fifth night, our opportunity came. We listened for the telltale click of the lock on the cellar door after Ana was escorted upstairs, but it never came. My skin was feverish and I knew I was suffering from blood poisoning. My wounds had gone untreated and they were beginning to fester. Despite this, I was determined to save Ana at any cost, even if I died in the process.

  My young friend opened his cage and mine with his secreted knife and then proceeded to open the remaining cages. Since they weren’t shackled, the children were able to move quietly. In the time we’d been together, they’d given me a detailed description of the home. One even knew of a hidden passage that led out from the master’s bedchamber in case of attack. Our plan was to head directly to the master’s room, kill him and any guards who stood in our way, and then make our escape through the passage.

  Quietly, I lifted the cellar door and motioned for the children to go out first. They were adept at finding hiding spots. Their instructions were to stay hidden while I engaged the guards and then follow me as silently as possible. When the last child had disappeared, I crept out and made my way directly to the master’s chamber.

  I took out one guard by slashing his throat, catching his body as he fell. Leaving him behind, I went on. When I looked back, I saw the children stashing his body in a cupboard and cleaning up the blood. There was a brief scuffle as I took out two more. As quickly as the first, the bodies were taken away. Then we were at the hall leading to the master’s chamber. Lacking an easy way to sneak up on them, I knew I’d have to attack them directly.

  Before I could, the brave boy who I’d called my captain darted out into the hall and then stood there long enough for the guards to see him. They called out after him and gave chase. I took down one and then sunk my knife into the spine of the second as he was dragging the boy back to the cellar. The children tossed the bodies into the cellar and locked it. Now nothing stood between us and the door.

  I tried the handle but it was locked. Quietly, I put the knife between the two doors and lifted the latch. The room was lit by a small coal fire and a huge bed sat in the center of the room. On a nearby table, sitting on a pillow, was the gleaming truth stone. I pointed to the young boy who’d been my right hand and the stone and he nodded. He nabbed the stone and handed it to one of the girls behind him as he dug through a pile of clothes until he found a shirt and made a makeshift bag from it.

  The master was sprawled on the bed, snoring loudly. As I approached, I noticed his skin was now tinged blue and it appeared as if it was peeling in many places. It wasn’t until I got closer that I could see a small body pressed against his. I slid the blanket down a bit and saw Anamika, her eyes glossy and wide as she stared up at me. Her face contorted in pain and she whimpered softly. I cursed softly, knowing I probably looked like just another looming man in the dim room, and quickly stepped back so she couldn’t see me.

  While I was at the bed, the children found the hidden passage, and the young boy was waving his arm, making sure all of our young prisoners escaped. Raising my knife, I plunged it into the neck of the snoring man, who woke suddenly, squealing like a pig. Quickly, I dashed around the bed and scooped up Ana in my arms. She suddenly came alive, bucking and kicking, but I’d grabbed the blanket at the same time and wrapped it around her, securing her limbs and wishing I had more time to be gentle with her.

  With a final look at the dying man, I turned and headed down the passage following the light of a torch held by one of the children. Ana suddenly stopped struggling. Her head fell to one side, her eyes still open. It was as if she’d locked herself far away. My own eyes filled with tears as I bent close and whispered to her, “Please forgive me.”

  Chapter 20

  A Man-Eater and a Miracle

  We followed the dim passage for the better part of an hour and finally emerged through the opening of a cave tucked away in a desert mountain. The children pushed aside the brush so I could get through without pricking Ana’s legs on the thorns. Squinting in the darkness, I made out the bumpy shapes of many animals dotting the land. I blew out a breath as I considered the camels.

  The children helped me round up three of the beasts, and I tied them together using the sash at my waist and the sleeves of the boys’ shirts. Once the children clambered on, I climbed onto the back of the lead camel and cradled Ana’s inert form in front of me. We set off toward the west, the opposite of the direction I wante
d to go, but it was farther away from the citadel of the turbaned man, and I thought it best to put as much distance between us and his mercenaries as possible.

  Hopefully, only a handful of men knew about the secret passage. We’d been careful to close it up behind us, and the children had hidden all the bodies of the men we’d killed. If we were lucky, no one would check on the master or our cages until the morning, and we’d be a good distance away before they realized what had happened.

  If we were unlucky, then I figured we had less than an hour of a head start. My best hope was that we’d come across a friendly trader, one who didn’t have allegiance to the man who sold weapons, but the odds were stacked against us. If I had only Ana to save, then there might have been a chance for us to escape. But I had a dozen other children depending on me. They needed food and water and a healer to tend to their wounds. My injuries had been slow to heal, infection had set in, and I was armed with only a knife. Our probability of surviving wasn’t looking good.

  We moved across the desert quickly and quietly for two hours, which was surprising enough, but then we came across a well, which was so rare a piece of luck as to be remarkable. The children drank deeply. They even drew up water for the camels. I tried to get Anamika to drink and forced the ladle between her lips, but she slapped at me and jerked her head back and forth as if delirious. I knew how hot and miserable the desert would be after the sun rose, so I attempted to get her to drink for as long as I dared but only managed to get a few drops past her lips.

  Eventually, I had to give up and I instructed the children to mount the camels again. I’d hoped when we found the well that whoever owned it would bring their animals to drink at dawn, but no one came in that quiet hour. We pressed on, staying close enough to a worn trail that I could watch for aid but far enough away so we wouldn’t be immediately obvious.

  It wasn’t until an hour after sunrise that I remembered the phoenix egg. I summoned the young boy who’d been of such great help to me, and he kicked his camel so it drew close.

  “Can you hand me the stone?” I asked him.

  He’d kept it wrapped in a shirt that he’d tied around his small frame. That the weight of it hadn’t toppled him over was amazing. He was one tough kid. Without question, he drew it around and untied the sleeves of the shirt, passing it over to me.

  “Please let this work,” I mumbled under my breath. Pressing my palms against the sides of the egg, I peered into its depths. “I need your wisdom,” I whispered to the stone. “Please help me save these children.”

  At first, nothing happened, but then the light inside the truth stone gleamed gold and it pulsed warmly against my hands. The heart of the phoenix spoke in my mind. The voice was both gentle and terrible. It was utterly indiscernible and yet it somehow seemed familiar. My mind became fuzzy and I swayed, nearly tumbling from the camel, but then the horizon steadied and my focus centered back to the stone. A concept suddenly became very clear.

  SAFE, the stone said, and then it showed me a picture.

  It was of the road we traveled, and I saw in my mind’s eye the path we should follow and a large home at the end of it. The map somehow imprinted upon my mind, and I knew where we should go and what we would find once we arrived. I also knew the journey would take approximately three days on camelback.

  Trusting in the truth stone, I wrapped the shirt around my neck and tied the sleeves together, then led the children on. Toward noon, the heavy weight pressing against my chest grew hot and I touched the stone. It showed me a picture of men on horseback. We just had time to move the camels behind a large section of rocks and stunted trees. Dismounting, we had the camels kneel on the ground and the children hid behind them.

  The men drew close enough for me to hear their shouts, and I worried that they would find our tracks, but when I looked back, the prints of our animals had disappeared. Not even my own footprints appeared in the deep sand, though I knew there should be signs of our passage all over the area. Something, or someone, was protecting us.

  Is Kadam behind this? He’d said I’d be on my own, so I dismissed the possibility. Durga didn’t exist in this plane or so he’d said. Perhaps it was the heart of the phoenix that shielded us. Whatever or whoever it was, I didn’t complain. We waited there, hidden, until they were long gone, and then I decided we needed time to rest. My shoulder throbbed and my head hurt. Though all of us were uncomfortably hot and suffering due to sun exposure, I knew I burned with fever as well.

  We slept in the shade of the spindly trees for a few hours and then traveled on. I frequently turned to look behind us and saw that our obvious trail melted into the desert only seconds after we passed, so tracking us would be difficult if not impossible. This was a miraculous turn of events, and one we desperately needed. Toward late afternoon, I put my hand on the phoenix egg and told it that I had to find food, water, and shelter for the night.

  Not a moment later, I caught the scent of woodsmoke on the air and spotted a plume rising into the cloudless sky. When I asked if the fire represented a safe place for us, the thrum of the heart inside the stone quickened.

  I guided the children toward the column of smoke, and we located a small cottage in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded the home, shading it from the hot sun, and each one was bursting with heavy globes of ripe fruit. I eyed the small grove as I tied off the camels and knew that those particular trees didn’t normally produce fruit in the same season.

  Despite this, I didn’t question our good fortune but breathed a sigh of relief. The starving children, heedless of danger or of offending our potential hosts, scurried after the fruit, helping each other reach as many as they could. I knocked on the door of the cottage and waited. When no response came, I opened it and stepped inside.

  Meat cooked on a spit over a crackling fire, and there was a stack of clothing and soft shoes—enough for all the children and even a tunic and breeches my size. A pair of large boots sat next to them. There was also a huge basin filled with steaming water, a pot filled to the brim with thick porridge, a jar of honey, and a basket of flatbread, still steaming and puffed from baking.

  Tears filled my eyes at the sight. Never in my long life had I felt so grateful for so little. The children bustled inside with their arms filled with fruit and exclaimed at the bounty set before them. I bid them eat while I took care of Ana. They lit into the food, the older children helping the younger ones and my fledgling captain directing them all.

  Anamika was still unresponsive and wouldn’t stand on her own. Holding her in my arms, I dipped a cloth in the hot water, squeezed it out, and pressed it against her red cheeks and brow. I loosened her long hair and smoothed it away from her face, wincing at the purple bruises on her neck and her swollen, cut lips.

  Quickly, I stripped away the thin blanket covering her and washed her body. The rage I felt at seeing the welts, the cuts, and the dried blood on her legs made me tremble. If he wasn’t already dead, I’d go back in time and kill the turbaned man again and again and again.

  The idea that he would dare slake his lusts on a young and innocent child ripped my heart in two, and I cursed myself and my weaknesses again. It was my fault. I would never, ever forgive myself for what happened to her, and I vowed to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my terrible failure.

  When Ana was clean, one of the girls brought me some clothes and helped me dress her. Though her eyes were still open, her limbs were as limp as a doll’s and she didn’t respond at all as I drew the tunic over her head and pulled it down her thin frame. Carefully, I drew her hair over her shoulder and fastened it with a small tie.

  “Come back to me, Ana,” I said softly as I touched her jaw and squeezed her hand. “Your tiger is here.”

  I didn’t realize I was crying until I saw a drop fall to her cheek and slide down to her ear. She blinked once, twice, and then turned her head to look at me. Letting out a soft sigh, she patted my bristly face, closed her eyes, and tucked her head against my shoulder.
Gently, I pulled her into my chest, rocking her in my arms and stroking her hair. When I knew she was asleep, I set her down on a blanket the children spread out, and then I helped the other children bathe and dress.

  The older ones happily refilled the tub for me from the well outside after they’d washed. They considered me their general of sorts and made great efforts to serve me in any way they could. Since they seemed revived from their large meal and the clean clothes, I allowed it and ate while they worked.

  When the tub was full, I told them it was time to catch some sleep and that good soldiers learned to sleep quickly when given the chance. They immediately complied and settled themselves on blankets near Ana, the little ones holding the hands of the older children. Night fell and I stared into the crackling fire, lost in my thoughts, making mental lists of what we’d need to pack up to take with us.

  After a while, when the children were all asleep, I finally stripped off my filthy bandages and clothes and sunk into the tub of tepid water, wincing as it enveloped all my stings and cuts. I was barely able to stifle a cry when I bathed my more severe injuries. Pulling away the bandages that had been stuck to my wounds had reopened them. They were worse than I originally thought.

  My fingers were swollen and discolored and even thinking about bending my fingers hurt. The wound in my shoulder pulsed along with my heartbeat. I cupped water in my good hand and washed it as best I could, but I nearly passed out in doing so. I panted as the world around me spun, and I lay back against the tub, trying to will away the dizziness.

  Cracking open an eye, I poked at my shoulder again and saw little red veins of infection spreading out from the wound. The skin around it looked like one of Kadam’s paper maps. Yellow seepage trickled down my arm. Where they’d ached dully before, my hand and shoulder now felt like they were on fire. I ducked beneath the water and used my good hand to smooth back my shaggy hair.

  As I sat back in the tepid water, I felt the emotion of the past few weeks overwhelm me. How had I screwed up my mission so terribly? Ana had been abducted and abused by a monster. I had over a dozen young children depending on me, and the chances of saving all of us were slim at best. Even if we found a safe haven, I had no idea how to draw the adult Anamika from her young form, and I reasoned that returning to our time might not even be possible.