Tiger's Dream (Tiger's Curse Book 5)
Page 31
I needed an ample supply of luck, but the chasm between where I found myself now and the completion of a successful quest felt as vast as the cosmos, and I had no means to leap across the void. My thoughts drifted and I must have fallen asleep. I sloshed water over the brim of the tub as I jerked awake and saw the fire had died down and my fingers were wrinkled and tender.
Climbing out of the tub, I used my old shirt to dry my body and picked up the new tunic that had been left for me. The material was soft and comfortable and it fit my frame perfectly. Again, I wondered who our mysterious benefactor was and if they’d ever show themselves. When I was dressed, I sat down in front of the dying fire, leaned back against the wall, and cradled the phoenix egg in my lap, hoping it would give me more wisdom or show me what I was to do in my dreams.
I didn’t dream of where I needed to go or what I needed to do. Instead, I dreamt of Bodha, the city of light. Someone walked ahead of me though I couldn’t see the face. I knew it was a woman, though, because I heard her laugh. “Come, Sohan,” she said. “Come and let the trees heal you.”
She led me to a copse of fire trees, and one of them stretched down a branch to touch my cheek, then it moved to my shoulder and prodded my injury. I hissed and stepped back.
“No,” the woman said. “Trust the fire. It will cleanse the poison from your body.” When I hesitated, I felt a hand on mine, pulling me into the trees.
After I stood amid the trees and they lowered branches, wrapping them around my body, she tried to move away. “Don’t leave,” I said. “Please.”
The woman paused for just a moment and then returned to me. She slid her arms up my chest and around my neck and pressed her body against mine. I held on to her tightly, bearing her weight easily as the trees lifted us into the air. Warmth pulsed around me, burning me from the inside out. I cried out in pain but she stroked my hair and whispered in my ear that it would be over soon.
I buried my face in her neck and breathed in her scent—jasmine and roses—then wet her shoulder with tears that dried up on her skin that burned as hotly as my own. Eventually, the heat subsided and the trees slowly lowered us to the ground, but I held on to her. Letting her go would be unbearable. She stayed with me and we just clung tightly to one another, both of us finding solace and companionship.
When she finally pushed away, she touched my newly healed shoulder and smiled, and I was about to discover who she was when she shoved my shoulder again. My eyes snapped open and I realized it was morning and my young captain was trying to wake me up. “I’m awake,” I said just as he was about to jostle me again. I was about to tell him not to touch that shoulder when I realized it didn’t hurt.
I yanked at the neck of my tunic and peered at my shoulder. It was completely healed. I lifted my palm and then turned it to see the back, then flexed my fingers. They bent easily, and the only signs of my previous injuries were a few new scars. The truth stone lay next to my thigh and it pulsed with warmth. “Thank you,” I said to it quietly, putting my healthy hand on top.
Turning to the boy, I instructed him to make sure all the children ate and that the camels were watered. He immediately set about the task. While he did so, I picked up a mango and a piece of flatbread and headed over to Anamika. She sat up against the wall, her arms wrapped around her drawn-up legs. I took it as a good sign.
I sat down next to her and held out the food. “You must be hungry,” I said. She just looked at me warily. I tried to make my tone soothing. “Did you know,” I said, using my knife to cut sections of the mango, “that the tree this fruit came from grows four different kinds of mangoes? It’s quite remarkable. I’ll have to tell Sunil about it when we see him. Perhaps I will bring him a cutting.”
“Su…Sunil?” Her voice was scratchy as if she’d worn it out with crying or screaming. I tried not to wince.
Popping a piece of fruit in my mouth, I nodded. “It’s quite delicious,” I said. “Of course, I’ve only tried one of them so far. The others might not taste as good as they look. Here, try a piece.” I offered her a slice of mango and she took it hesitantly.
Not wanting to intimidate her, I concentrated on slicing another piece and eating it and was gratified when I glanced up and saw her nibbling on the edge, juice wetting her fingers.
“I’m feeling a bit full myself,” I said, shifting to get up. “Here, you take the knife and eat as much as you like while I have the others gather more for our trip.”
I handed her the rest of the mango and the knife. Her green eyes widened when I pressed the knife in her hand, and at first she stared at it like it was a snake, but then her jaw clenched as her fingers tightened around the hilt. She nodded and bit into the mango without using the knife at all.
Turning away, I ate a piece of flatbread as the children washed up and prepared to leave. The young boy came in from outside. “We found these bags,” he said, holding up one in each hand. “They were stacked up outside the cottage door.”
“Good.” I smiled. “See that you pack them with fruit, bread, and meat. Take everything.”
He nodded and set about his work.
A girl added, “And there were empty flagons near the well. We already filled them with water.”
“Wonderful. Let me know when everything is ready.”
It took the children less than ten minutes to gather everything. They laid the bags across the backs of the camels and hoisted themselves up, the older ones positioning the younger ones between them. When Anamika came out of the cottage, walking slowly toward us, I paused by my camel. “Pick a beast,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t care where she rode.
I would have preferred she stay with me but I didn’t want to push her. She headed to the last camel, but it was crowded with five children clinging tightly to one another. Then she came back to mine. “Can I ride with you?” she asked.
“Hmm,” I rubbed my jaw as if considering. “I suppose. Do you take up much room? I’d hate to get pushed off the back.”
Her slight smile felt like a victory. “Not too much,” she said.
“Okay, we’ll give it a try.” I held out a hand, and she hesitated and looked from it to my face before finally placing her hand in mine. After she and I were settled, I clicked my tongue and the camel shifted awkwardly to its feet, giving a little cry of protest.
We continued on, stopping at midday to rest and eat, and camped beneath the stars that night. The next day, we moved even quicker and found a flat space near a bubbling stream. We’d consumed all the bread and meat but we refilled our pouches with water and had enough fruit for each of us to eat two pieces, leaving one for breakfast.
The truth stone indicated that we were on the right track and would reach the place of safety by the afternoon of the next day. The next morning as we prepared to leave, I felt the prickle of something on the back of my neck. The camels bawled nervously and glanced toward a thicket of brush. I stared at it for a long time and then sucked in a breath.
Though I couldn’t see anything behind the brush, I knew exactly what it was—a tiger. A hungry one if it was thinking about attacking our group. It wasn’t natural for tigers to hunt people. Man-killers were uncommon unless it was too injured to hunt its normal prey. “Children,” I said quietly, “get behind me. Ana? I’m going to need that knife.”
I held out my hand behind my back and felt the handle of the knife graze my palm. Wrapping my fingers around it, I took a step forward, raising the knife in front of me. Staring straight at the brush, knowing it would unnerve the tiger to be seen, I said loudly, “There’s nothing here you want, my feline friend. I suggest you move along.”
The bushes shifted and I heard a deep and throaty growl. A huge paw parted the grass, followed by a second, and then the striped face emerged, yellow eyes trained on me. He crouched, tail twitching slightly as he studied me. The tiger was massive and I wondered if I looked that big when in tiger form. My perception as a tiger was different, and I never looked closely at my reflection before
except in a pool of water.
Uncertain what to make of us, the tiger started toward my left, where most of the children stood in a huddle. “Stay together,” I warned him. “If you separate, he will pounce.”
I heard a whimper from one of the kids but the crying was quickly stifled. “I don’t think so, my friend,” I said, angling my body to stand between him and the children. He froze and backed up a few steps, snarling. His low growl would have terrified me if I had been a normal human, but I recognized the catch of hesitation as his growl cut off. He was unsure of us.
He moved back a step and that’s when I noticed his mangled back leg. The tiger had been caught in a trap and was missing part of his foot. His limp was noticeable. “I feel sorry for you, old man,” I said, “but you won’t find breakfast here.”
We stared each other down for too many minutes. The tiger must have been desperate because he wasn’t giving up. The truth stone lay fastened in a bag over the camel’s back. Carefully, I slid my hand inside the bag hanging from the camel’s back and touched the stone, murmuring a plea for help. The stone grew warm and then I heard the sibilant sound of snakes, lots of them. Not three feet from where I stood, a brown, triangular-shaped head popped up from a hole. Another slid quickly down a hill and was joined by a third and a fourth.
The children cried in earnest as more and more snakes emerged from the ground. The reptiles moved forward in a wriggling carpet, creating a wide barrier between us and the tiger. Slowly, they crept closer to the massive animal. He wrinkled his nose and puffed air in a snort. Frustrated, he paced back and forth, quickly darting back when several snakes spat at his feet and others struck, missing him by inches. Finally, he turned and bounded off, his tail marking his progress through the grass.
The snakes stared ahead for a few moments and then slid away, some in the grass, some down holes, and others just made their way into the desert and disappeared. When they were all gone, I turned to the trembling children and hugged them closed, capturing as many in my arms as I could.
“You were all very brave,” I said. “Come now. The danger has passed. Hop back up on those camels.”
There were no further incidents for the rest of our journey, and the gratitude and relief I felt when the home I’d seen in vision came into sight was immense. An old couple emerged from the house as we drew near and the man hailed me. They must have been confused and surprised at seeing so many children traveling with one man.
As the wife ushered the weary kids into her home to feed and bathe them, I quickly explained to the husband who we were and that, though we appreciated his hospitality, he was likely endangering his family to come to our aid. He put a hand on my shoulder and told me he’d heard rumors about the man I’d killed and that he’d happily help us.
Later that night I learned that the two of them had lived alone for many years and had wished for a large family but that his wife was unable to bear children. He agreed to help as many of the young ones find their families as he could and to those who could no longer remember where they came from, he would gladly offer a home.
I said that I’d been charged with finding Anamika and returning her to her family and that I needed to do so as soon as possible. The couple encouraged me to stay with them, to rest after our ordeal. When I wanted to set out the next morning, they packed up bags of supplies and even offered up a horse in exchange for the camels.
The man gifted me with an old sword and told me to head south. He informed me that the caravans and camel traders tended to use the northern routes. It would take longer to get Ana home but it was better to avoid them where possible.
Although the children were sorry to see me go, it was obvious that they had quickly grown attached to the older couple, and they bid me a fond farewell. Anamika didn’t hesitate to join me. The man had given her a sheath for her knife, and she wore the leather belt proudly, often resting her palm on the knife handle as if to reassure herself.
After I lifted her to the back of the horse and mounted behind her, we set off on the southern road, the truth stone in a pouch securely at our side.
Chapter 21
The Last Gift
We didn’t speak much at first. I was content to leave Ana alone now that she was safe. She’d been through a terrible ordeal, and I wanted her to begin healing from it both mentally and physically. Every so often, I stopped to rest the horse and gave Ana a chance to stretch. She was more accustomed to being on horseback than someone like Kelsey would have been, but I wanted to make her as comfortable as possible.
When we made camp, she gathered wood for me, and I made a bed for her using the blanket the woman had given us. We ate in silence and I tethered the horse to a tree that had plenty of grass beneath it for grazing. When I returned from a small creek with full canteens, I found Ana had pillowed her head on the saddle, stuck her hand beneath her cheek, and quickly fallen asleep. My heart pinched when I saw that she slept in the same loose way she did at home. The backs of my eyes stung. I missed her. Even with the younger version of her at my side, I found I longed for the company of the woman.
When I was a tiger, living in the jungle of India, being alone didn’t bother me. At least, that’s what I’d convinced myself. I’d been so wrapped up in my grief that I didn’t allow myself to reach out for what I wanted the most. It wasn’t until Kadam came for me that I realized how much I wanted to be a part of something again.
I yearned for family. To have a home. To surround myself with people who loved me. For a long time, I thought Kelsey would be that family. In a way, I guess she was. But seeing her with Ren confirmed my deepest doubts. Kelsey didn’t need me like I needed her. She had my brother. She had a home and a life that I could no longer be a part of. At least not in the way I’d hoped.
Taking a seat nearby, I pulled the truth stone in my lap, looking at the girl who was depending on me. If I was going to save her, I had to figure out what to do next. “What can I offer her?” I murmured to it softly. “How can I pull my Ana out from this timeline?” The stone remained cold and dark. If there was an answer, either the stone didn’t know or couldn’t help me.
Every time we’d made an offering to the goddess before, we’d had a bell and I’d switched into tiger form. I couldn’t do that here and there wasn’t a bell among our meager possessions. Despite this, I set down a piece of fruit, a feather I’d found, a flask of water, and a warm coal from the fire. I thought by offering something to represent each element, I’d cover all my bases. Then I knelt beside her and bowed my head, touching it to the ground at her feet.
“Mighty Goddess,” I said, “I…I miss you. Please heed the summons of Damon, your tiger, and come back to me.”
Aside from a fiery spark that popped and flew up into the night sky, nothing happened. I tried again, mixing up my words, attempting to replicate the things I’d heard Kelsey say, but again there was no response. I even tried to make the trilling sound of a bell by pursing my lips, but then I just felt like a fool.
Eventually, I gave up and just lay down, resting my head on my hands as I looked up into the stars. “Tell me what to do,” I mumbled to the sky but the cold stars didn’t whisper back.
The next morning Ana stretched and handed me the saddle. It smelled of leather and oil and a muted, to my nose, version of her natural jasmine scent. As I secured the truth stone on the side of the horse, she asked hesitantly, “Will you teach me to use the knife? I want to be able to help you fight if someone comes for us.”
I froze for an instant, my hands against the saddle. “I…I can,” I said, clearing my throat and adjusting the reins without looking at her. “But first, you’ll have to learn how to take care of it.”
“I can do that,” she answered.
Turning, I studied her face and then gave her a brief nod. “We’ll begin our lessons when we rest the horse in the heat of the day.”
So began our training.
Anamika had a bright mind and she learned quickly. Once I taught her how to f
ind just the right stone and sharpen her knife on its surface, she immediately set about working on it. Every ten minutes she’d hand it to me for inspection and I’d point out the places she’d missed. When she finished with her knife, she began working on the old sword. It was far too heavy for her to carry around but I let her tend to it regardless.
I wanted her to feel a sense of control. Being responsible for and taking care of my weapons was the first lesson Kadam had ever taught me, so that’s where I began. During the hours I spent with her on horseback, I talked about philosophy of battle, shared examples of wars I’d fought in and the reasons for them, and talked about the many times I’d had to learn things the hard way.
When I said that a man could hone his body and mind just as he did his weapons, she asked, “Can a woman do that as well?”
“Of course,” I replied. “A mind must be regularly sharpened just like a knife. To do this you must continually challenge yourself. It does not matter that you are female. I’ve often found that women naturally outthink men. Just remember that your mind is the most powerful weapon at your disposal. A brilliant idea can destroy an army. I’ve seen it happen.”
During the afternoons and evenings, I trained her in how to attack an enemy unawares, taught her how to evade physical attacks from enemies much larger than herself, and gave her mental puzzles to solve. She was bright and solved Kadam’s riddles much faster than I ever had.
After she fell asleep each night, I tried to summon the goddess again. Each attempt I made failed. Time was running out and I was beginning to feel desperate. Why hadn’t Kadam just told me what to offer? It didn’t make sense. I’d tried gifting her with small lizards and mice but they just wandered off. I found bird eggs and a garter snake but nothing I did was productive.