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

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Tiger's Dream (Tiger's Curse Book 5) Page 33

by Colleen Houck

The Fifth Sacrifice

  Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. The snake was attached to Ana’s neck like a long leech. The cobra’s body undulated as it pumped golden venom into her pale neck. A trickle dribbled down slowly and it sparkled in the light of the fire.

  “Go on,” I whispered to the newborn creature. “Please save her if you can.”

  Finally, the snake detached, slipped over her shoulder, and disappeared beneath her hair. I just sat there, dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.

  Snapping my mouth closed, I leaned forward. “Where’d you go, little snake?” I asked, hesitantly picking up Ana’s braid to look underneath. I found the tiny serpent curled up in a circle in the space just between Ana’s neck and the ground. Its head was resting on its top coil, emerald eyes shining in the dark hiding spot. I dropped the braid, leaving the snake alone, and wrapped my arms around my knees, drawing them up. I sat there for a long time, my forehead pressed against my knees, feeling numb.

  The sun crept past noonday and I knew I couldn’t sit any longer. I don’t know what I was waiting for. I suppose I was just hoping for a miracle. The golden venom had looked like the same substance that had saved Kelsey more than once. But this new snake, as much as she looked like her, wasn’t Fanindra, and Anamika was gone. Was it just wishful thinking, expecting a magic snake born from a phoenix egg to bring her back?

  After heading outside, I spent the rest of the afternoon digging a grave. If the Damon Amulet worked, I could have completed the task in a few seconds with just my mind alone, but laboring in that manner felt good and right somehow. It was the last act of service I could perform for the goddess I served. Sweat made my tunic stick to my back and arms as I strained, and I finally pulled it off and tossed it over a rock.

  If I’d had the proper tools, the task would have gone much easier. Instead, I dug Ana’s final resting place using large branches that shot splinters into my hands. I welcomed the pain. The sweat that trickled down between my shoulder blades glistened on my chest and dripped down my face, mingled with my streaming tears.

  Halfway through, I considered burning her body, but the idea that she would then be gone forever, her ashes drifting up into the night sky far beyond my reach, hurt more than I thought it could. The very notion that she wouldn’t have a final resting place was unacceptable to me. It was a heavy weight in my chest that sunk me down into a black tar of emotion.

  As I worked into the early evening, my limbs shaking with exertion, my hands raw, the despondency in my soul permeated my entire body. It rose to the surface, polluting my thoughts and turning my mind to vengeance. I blamed one man for Ana’s death, for her pain, and the least I could do was ensure his demise.

  If, for some reason, he had survived, and a part of me hoped he had, then I’d try to kill him again. I’d kill all of them. My wrath would be brilliant and fierce. Igniting it would be as easy as striking a match.

  My task finally done, I splashed water on my face and torso and ran my hands through my dripping hair. Dust coated my face and I had to rinse and spit several times to clear my mouth of it. When I was clean enough, I ducked into the cave. Carefully, I pulled the blanket around Ana’s small body and lifted her into my arms. After pressing a soft kiss against her forehead, I knelt to lower her into the grave. That’s when I felt the tickle of air on my neck. Frowning, I looked carefully at her face, then propped her body up with one arm and put my palm a few inches away from her mouth. For the second time, I felt a slight exhale.

  “Ana?” I said, my voice thick with hope. “Anamika?”

  She didn’t move or blink, but as I examined her neck where the snake had bitten her, I saw two tiny pinpricks. Miraculously, the skin was healing. Setting her on the ground, I placed my palm on her chest. There was a thump. I held my breath just to make sure. A long moment passed and then I felt a second thump. She was alive! I laughed and cried again, then jerked back when something touched my arm. The tiny snake must have been caught up in Ana’s blanket.

  I gently pulled out the serpent. Immediately, it twined between my fingers and raised its head, looking up at me. “You’re a piece of good fortune I didn’t expect,” I said. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” I set it on a nearby rock and it curled up, its eyes trained on Ana.

  My thrill at knowing Ana was still alive was quickly replaced by an intense desire to save her. Clearly, something beyond my power to fix was very wrong with the girl. I’d have to get her home. I rested fitfully that night, waking frequently to check and make sure she was still breathing.

  The next morning, I gathered all our supplies and wrapped her up in her blanket. The snake had slithered into my knapsack and I was happy to leave it there. When all that was left in the cave was the remains of the truth stone, I picked up a large piece and studied it. “I’m going to save her,” I said, and to my surprise, the stone glowed. Not once in the all the time that Ana was sick did the stone answer me.

  Taking advantage of its renewed power, I peppered it with queries and statements. “I’ll get her home,” I said, and the stone responded affirmatively. “She’s not going to die here.” Again, it glowed. Renewed energy coursed through me. Quickly, I collected all the pieces of the stone and put them into one of the saddlebags, holding back one small piece and stuffing it into my tunic pocket. Then, I filled up our flagons of water, attached them to the saddle, and picked up Anamika.

  Having been tied up for so long, the restless horse was eager to be moving. I definitely wanted to get going as well. This was going to work. I was going to save her and, somehow, summon my Anamika and fix everything. With young Ana cradled in my arms, I set out on the road once again, using a small piece of the truth stone as a guide.

  Two weeks passed before we finally arrived at her father’s home, and when I neared the gate, riders armed with weapons met me. I must have looked like a vagabond as dirty as I was and with a month’s growth of beard on my face. I’d run out of supplies a week before and had managed to catch and cook a rabbit once but it wasn’t enough.

  There had been plenty of water, but I was hungry and Ana was growing thinner and thinner. The water I forced down her throat dribbled out the sides of her mouth. I was fairly certain that some of it was getting down, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she died of dehydration.

  She still slept as if she were near death, but her pulse was steady and her breaths came evenly. I didn’t understand what had caused her deep sleep, but I was determined to be grateful for it. One thing was certain, Anamika had died, and now, somehow, she was alive. Life meant hope. No one was gladder than I had been to leave that shallow grave far behind, and I hoped there would not be cause for another. At least, not for a very, very long time.

  Exhausted, I allowed the men to lead us but refused to give up Anamika. When her father rode up to us, a flurry of hooves and mane, he pulled on the reins hard as he neared and hurried to my side. I pushed back the blanket covering Ana’s face. The tears in his eyes spilled over and he held out his arms for his daughter. Hesitating only a moment, I carefully gave her over to him and he kicked his horse, jostling with his load slightly, and then raced back home. I followed.

  Ana’s mother ran toward us, flailing her arms and crying loudly. The two of them awkwardly maneuvered their daughter to the ground, and the father shouted for a physician to be summoned. Two men immediately set off on horseback. My horse came to a stop but my body kept moving. The next thing I knew, the world tilted and I hit the ground hard before everything went black.

  ***

  When I woke, it was night and I recognized the guest bedroom I’d stayed in before. Someone sat in a chair nearby.

  “Are you awake?” a young boy asked.

  “Sunil?” My voice was rough and throaty.

  “You found her,” he said.

  “Yes.” Shifting on the bed to sit up, I placed my throbbing head in my hands.

  Sunil darted away and I took a moment to stiffen my resolve. Weeks on horseback had made my en
tire body stiff. Before I could manage to stand, Sunil’s mother came into the room. She barked orders at Sunil, who ran off to do her bidding, and she took his chair. Pressing a cup to my lips, she commanded, “Drink.”

  I sipped tentatively at first and then placed my hand on top of hers and tilted it, drinking the cool, sweet water in deep swallows until it was gone.

  “Good,” she said. “Now you will eat.” She turned to the empty doorway. “Sunil? The broth. Hurry up!”

  Sunil rushed into the room in a gangly tangle of teenage limbs and handed his mother a tureen of soup.

  “Can you eat by yourself?” she asked. “Sunil can feed you if you need it.”

  The boy’s eyes widened and he gulped, but he nodded when I looked at him with the corner of my mouth raised.

  “I can feed myself,” I answered. “How’s Ana?” Quickly, I corrected myself. “Anamika, I mean?”

  “Her mind still sleeps,” Ana’s mother said. “But I have managed to feed her some.”

  “Good.”

  “I wish to thank you for bringing her home to us. I feared I would never see her again.”

  “She…she’s been through a lot,” I said as I glanced at Sunil.

  His mother looked at her son, then at me. After a moment, she nodded stiffly. “Eat. While you do, Sunil will bring you water for your bath and new clothes. See to it, son,” she said as she exited the room.

  “Yes, Mother,” Sunil squeaked with his changing voice. He winced at his growing pains, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and began carting up buckets of steaming water, dumping them in a small metal tub just big enough for me to sit in. I savored the delicious soup, fragrant with herbs, full of chunks of meat and hearty vegetables, and peeled off my dirty shirt.

  Sunil stayed to scrub my back though I told him it wasn’t necessary. He insisted, saying it was the least he could do after I saved his sister. When I was finished soaping my hair and body, he poured a cold bucket of water over my head and handed me a thin towel to dry off with.

  “Thank you,” I said as I wrapped the towel around my hips. “Your mother mentioned something about clothes?”

  He scampered off and quickly came back with a thin tunic and a comfortable pajama pant. I pulled on the clothing, tying off the pants, tightening the waist so they’d stay up. He gave me a pair of sandals and a comb for my hair. When I was presentable, I immediately wanted to see Ana, but it was late at night and I heard the lilting hum of a woman softly speaking coming from her room. Instead, I followed Sunil downstairs, where the deep rumble of men’s voices caught my attention.

  Immediately upon seeing me, the men’s voices quieted. Ana’s father bade me sit and wasted no time after I did.

  “Tell us,” he said simply.

  I tugged on my short beard, wondering how much I should tell him. When I considered what I would want to know if it had been my daughter who had been abducted, my decision was made.

  “She was sold into slavery,” I said. “I don’t think it was in retaliation for anything against you or your family. There was no talk of that at the compound, and the traders who’d taken her didn’t seem to care who she was or where she came from.”

  Anamika’s father swallowed. His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes were bright. “Then who is responsible for this?” he asked.

  “I’m not certain,” I said. “Perhaps a passing trader saw her beauty and knew she’d fetch a good price. Then again, it’s entirely possible that someone with a personal vendetta wanted to harm your family and suggested she be taken. I don’t know which of these is the case, but I promise you, I will find out.”

  “There was a trader,” he said slowly. “The man took an interest in Ana and asked if she was already arranged. I did not like how his eyes lingered on my daughter and told him to leave. Perhaps this is the reason.”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “The incident happened too quickly, and I’m afraid I rousted him from my lands before learning more about him.”

  “Then, when I am recovered, I will do what I can to discover who he is and where he lays his head.”

  “You have done so much already. We are indebted to you, stranger. Please consider our home yours for as long as you like, but as her father, I insist upon taking care of this business myself from now on, as is my right.”

  Just then, Ana’s mother came into the room. “If this young man wants to stay and help you find the person responsible, then he stays.”

  “We will talk of this later,” her husband said.

  “I have said what I said, which means we are done talking. The least you could do is not call him stranger.”

  “Has he told me his name that I should use it?”

  The man stood and faced his wife, frustration on his face. I sensed their arguing was something common. It reminded me of Anamika. She got her argumentative side from her mother. I sat back and listened to their quibbling with a smile on my face.

  “My name is Kishan,” I offered. “Kishan Rajaram.”

  “There, you see?” the woman said, shaking a finger at me and then at her husband. “You should thank him properly and use his name now that you know it. In fact, you should be showering him with gold and kneeling at his feet.”

  “He doesn’t need to do that,” I began, but I was quickly cut off by Ana’s father.

  “I will thank who I will thank and I will use names when I see fit to use them. You do not tell me how to conduct business among men,” he said, his neck turning red. “If I want to kneel and abase myself, I will do so. If I want to give him gold, I will do so. But you will not decide what I do!”

  “Bah,” she said and turned her back to her husband but paused at the door. “We cannot dismiss such a man so easily. He brought back our Mika. Does that mean nothing to you?”

  The man’s face turned quickly from sour to tender. “Of course it does. It means everything to have her back.” After he said that, he inquired, “Is there any change?”

  The woman’s shoulders fell. “Not yet. It’s like she’s waiting for something, but I don’t know what it could be.”

  Anamika’s father approached his wife then and touched her shoulder. She fell back against him and he wrapped his arms around her. I pulled out the truth stone and rubbed it between my fingers, something that became a habit of mine on the journey, and was startled to see a soft aura surrounding Ana’s parents. It brightened as they spoke softly together.

  I remembered then that the phoenix had said the truth stone would also allow me to see into hearts. It was obvious to me that Anamika’s father and mother loved one another despite their bickering. When she pulled away, he kissed her softly on the forehead and she left. He returned to us, his neck a bit red and his eyes flitted away from mine as if he was embarrassed to have me overhear their exchange.

  “My wife is right,” he said. “I have not honored you enough for what you have done.”

  “I am happy to have found her.”

  The truth stone was still in my hand, and I noticed that the light surrounding Ana’s father had dimmed a bit when he separated from his wife, but it was still there. Curious, I looked at the other men, who I assumed to be relatives or men for hire who had helped in the search. I studied each one in turn and found they all had varying degrees of a bright light surrounding them.

  A few were in shades of blue or green—Ana’s parents had been a sunshine yellow—but there was one man who had no light at all. There was nothing outstanding about him. He sat quietly, adding little to the conversation, but there was something about him that was slightly off. It bothered me and I found my eyes turning to him repeatedly.

  “Please, you can tell me the truth,” Ana’s father said.

  I snapped back to attention. “The truth about what happened?” I asked.

  “Yes. We have our suspicions but I’d like to hear it from you.”

  Nodding, I let out a small breath and hoped I was right about Ana’s father. Wo
uld he be ashamed of her, after knowing what happened? “Do you trust everyone here?” I asked him. “This is a delicate matter.”

  “Unquestionably,” he replied.

  “Very well.” I leaned forward, placing the stone between my palms and moving it back and forth slowly. “Ana was taken by a caravan of traders and then was given to another band, one that peddles flesh. When I caught up to the first convoy, I managed to get information on the whereabouts of the others. My intention was to barter for her release but I was taken captive myself.

  “A kindly slave woman warned me about the man she suspected would buy Anamika. When I was placed on the block, I irritated him enough to get him to buy me as well. It took weeks for me to get into the house where he kept Anamika and the other slave children he bought and even longer to arrange an escape. Once we fled, I not only had Anamika but several other children to take care of. I left them with a generous older couple and took Anamika and left. They gave me supplies, but as you can see, we ran out.”

  “And the slave children,” Ana’s father said, “were they working in the home?”

  “Some did,” I answered. “Others were kept for the master’s vile affections. I’m sorry to say that Anamika was one of these.”

  The men surrounding us gasped and rose to their feet, outraged. The only one to remain in his seat was Anamika’s father. His hands trembled as he closed his eyes. “And where is this man now?”

  “I assume he is dead since I stabbed him in the throat.” I leaned closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Truly, I am sorry that I could not save her before she was sold.”

  “As am I, Kishan. As am I.”

  Anamika’s father looked like he’d aged ten years in the space of ten minutes. The men began talking of revenge and asked if I could lead them back to the compound. They speculated as to which caravan was responsible and talked of how many other men they could muster to their cause. All the while Ana’s father sat, unmoving and stiff.

  “Could you do it?” he asked.

  “Lead them back?” I nodded slowly. “I could. But there are many men at this compound. They’re trained soldiers and mercenaries. As fitting and proper as it would be to rain vengeance upon their heads, you’d need an army to defeat them. They have more weapons than I’ve seen in one place in many years. In my opinion, it would be foolhardy to engage them in open confrontation.”

 

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