I sat on the bed for a while and breathed in his scent from the pillow. I didn’t see Ren the rest of the day but found a note on my bed. It read, “Who could refrain that had a heart to love, and in that heart courage to make love known?”
Who indeed?
Mr. Kadam, determined to uncover Ren’s memory trigger, spent many hours with him trying to figure it out. Ren dedicated himself to that effort with a fervor he hadn’t possessed before. Kishan always took those opportunities to lure me away. We either watched movies or went for walks or a swim.
When I spent time with Ren, we just talked or read. He watched me often, and his face lit up with a smile whenever I looked up to see what he was doing. He often switched into a tiger and sat with me, napping in the afternoons. I was able to hug him then. He would rest his head in my lap while I stroked his fur, but he didn’t try to kiss me again. It must have been a painful enough experience that he didn’t want to repeat it just yet. I stubbornly ignored the voice in my mind that wondered what I’d do if his pain never went away.
I helped Mr. Kadam research the third prophecy for the next few weeks. It was obvious we’d be going to a temple of Durga again and would be receiving two more weapons—this time a trident and a kamandal. Mr. Kadam and I read a few bits out loud, and I took notes on important facts. During one session, I discovered something interesting.
“Mr. Kadam, this book says a kamandal is a vessel typically used to hold water, but in myths, it is said to hold the elixir of life, or holy water, and is also a symbol of fertility. The sacred Ganges is said to have originated in a kamandal. Huh. Do you have any water from the Ganges? It says here most Indian households keep a vial in their home, and they consider it sacred.”
Mr. Kadam sat back in his chair. “No, I don’t, but my wife did. The Ganges is very important to the people of India. It’s as religiously important to Hindus as the Jordan River is to Christians. It’s as economically important as the Mississippi is in America or as the Nile in Egypt. People believe the Ganges has curative properties, and the ashes of the dead are sprinkled in its currents. When my wife died, her ashes were spread on the Ganges, and I always thought mine would be spread there as well, but that was a long time ago.”
“Were Ren’s parents cremated?”
Mr. Kadam sat back in the chair and rubbed his palms in slow circles. “They were not. When Rajaram died, Deschen began to grieve. I had planned to cremate his body and take the ashes to the Ganges, but she wouldn’t let me. She couldn’t bear to be so far away from him. You see, the Hindus believe that the soul immediately departs the dead. They cremate the body as soon as possible so there is no temptation for the soul to linger among the living.
“But Deschen was Buddhist, and in her culture, the dead body is left in repose for three days in the hope that the hovering spirit might change its mind and decide to reunite with its body. Together we watched and prayed over Rajaram, and when three days had passed, I dug a grave and buried him near her garden.
“She spent all her time in the garden working and speaking to Rajaram as if he could hear her. When Kishan wasn’t hunting, he rested near his mother and watched over her. She soon became ill and as I cared for her, I carved a marker for her husband’s grave out of wood. By the time I finished the marker, I knew I’d soon have to create another one.
“I buried them side by side near our little house. It’s not too far from the waterfall Ren took you to. Shortly after that, I left in search of Ren. Their jungle is a peaceful place. I’ve been back several times to lay flowers on their graves, and I’ve replaced the wooden markers with permanent headstones. Though Rajaram’s burial did not reflect his beliefs, I do know he would have given anything, done anything, to make his wife happy. I suspect, had he been able, he would have asked me to do exactly as I did to give her a sense of peace.”
He blinked unshed tears from his eyes and shifted a book on the table. “Ah, I apologize. I did not mean to get so emotional.”
“You loved them.”
“Yes. I’ve often thought I might like to be buried near them when I die. I wouldn’t presume, of course, but it’s a … special place for me. I’ve often knelt at their graves and talked of their sons. It’s not something common in Hindu culture, but I find it … comforts me.”
Mr. Kadam pulled himself out of his melancholy mood. “Now then, we were speaking of the Ganges. Incidentally, there is some basis in fact of the healing properties of the river.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not go for a swim, if we don’t have to.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to swim in the Ganges. However, the prophecy specifically mentions diving, which is why I’ve arranged diving lessons.”
“Are you sure it doesn’t mean something else? Like the Ocean Teacher thing?”
“No. I’m fairly certain we’ll be on the ocean this time. The other two prophecies were based on the elements of earth and air. I believe this prophecy has a water theme—and possibly an underwater theme.”
I groaned. “That doesn’t bode well, especially the bit about creatures that bite and sting. I can think of lots of things in the ocean that I’d rather not encounter. Plus tiger power is pretty much nonexistent in the ocean, and I’m not sure my lightning power works underwater.”
“Yes. I must admit, I’ve thought of that myself. The good news is that I believe I know what we are looking for this time.”
“Really?”
Mr. Kadam thumbed through a book and found what he was looking for. “That is what we are seeking,” he said with a flourish. “Look at her neck.”
I looked down at the book. Mr. Kadam was pointing to a beautifully artistic rendering of Durga. The goddess was wearing a stunning wide necklace of diamonds and black pearls.
“The necklace? You think we’re looking for that? And it’s hidden somewhere in the ocean? No problem.” I said incredulously.
“Yes. Well, at least we know what we’re looking for this time. Her necklace is said to have been stolen centuries ago by a jealous god— which, by the way, leads me to my second discovery.”
“And what is that?”
“The place where we will begin our search. We will be going to the City of the Seven Pagodas.”
“What’s that?”
“Ah, I will reveal all tonight,” Mr. Kadam concluded mysteriously. “I’ll tell you the whole story after dinner.”
Despite my pleading to know our destination immediately, Mr. Kadam insisted we continue our research on the prophecy. We spent the rest of the afternoon deep in study. Mr. Kadam focused on the city while I tried to learn more about the dragons.
After gulping down the fastest dinner in history, we gathered in the peacock room. Kishan sat next to me. He stretched his arm out behind me and cheekily slipped it onto my shoulders when Ren took a seat across from us. Finally, Mr. Kadam came in, settled himself, and began to tell the story of Durga.
“Durga is known by many names,” he began. “One of them is Parvati. Parvati’s husband, Shiva, became angry because she did not pay him the attention he felt he deserved. Shiva cast her to the world below to live as a mortal in an obscure fishing village. The people, though poor, were faithful and had built many temples.
“Even though Parvati lived as a human, she retained her heavenly beauty, and many sought her hand. Shiva soon missed her and became jealous of the attentions other men paid to her. He sent his servant Nandi to the fishing village.
“Nandi secretly stole her necklace and told the villagers that the beautiful maiden’s Black Pearl Necklace had been hidden beneath the waves and that it was protected by a fierce shark. The man who could kill the shark and find the necklace would be able to win her as his bride.
“What the men didn’t know was that Nandi had taken the form of that shark. He was ruthlessly protecting the necklace for his master Shiva, who had plans to sweep in to save the pearls and let the other men die trying. He hoped this gesture would be sufficient to win back the affe
ctions of his wife.
“Many men tried and failed. Some sought the necklace by trickery. They tried to lure the shark away with bloody carcasses and then seek the pearls, but Nandi was no ordinary shark. He was clever and hid. He waited for the men to dive and then he struck. Soon all the eligible men had been killed and eaten by the shark or were too afraid to try.
“Parvati despaired over the senseless loss of life. Nandi the shark patrolled the waters, causing fear and havoc as he ruthlessly tore through fishing nets and snapped at anyone who dared set foot into the water. The suffering village became desperate.
“But there was another, lesser god who loved the city. Many of its temples were built in his honor. He was the god of lightning, thunder, rain, and warfare, and, in fact, had given Parvati the thunderbolt power she possessed. His name was Indra. He’d heard about the terrible plague that had come upon his people and decided to investigate.
“Indra looked upon the beautiful woman and didn’t recognize the goddess for who she was. Indra had always had a reputation for being amorous, and he immediately fell in love with the goddess. He decided to win her hand by disguising himself as a mortal and slaying the shark himself. This was the very same thing that Shiva had thought to do, and he wasn’t happy to have another man, a god no less, come forward.
“The two gods, disguised as men, began their quest, both seeking to slay the shark and find the hidden treasure. Indra held the power of weather and caused great storms and waves that confused Nandi the shark. While Indra kept the shark busy, Shiva searched the ocean for the necklace and soon found it. He returned to land just as Indra dragged the carcass of the slain monster on shore and claimed the goddess was his, for he had slayed the great fish.
“Shiva revealed who he was and told Indra that the fish wasn’t really slain but was his servant Nandi. The dead body of the shark shifted and changed into the living body of Nandi. Then Shiva lifted the Necklace over Parvati’s head. When the Necklace settled, Parvati remembered who she was and embraced her husband. Indra was wroth and asked the villagers to pass judgment as to who the winner would be.
“Put in an uncomfortable position, the people chose Shiva as the victor. They were grateful to Indra for slaying the shark, but the love between Shiva and Parvati was obvious to everyone. Shiva would have killed Indra then, but Parvati stayed his hand. She begged for his life, saying that there had been enough death caused by her. Shiva agreed and whisked her back to his kingdom. The people rejoiced and began to prosper once again now that the terror of the sea was gone.
“But Indra didn’t forget his shame and the tricks that had been played against him. One night he snuck into the home of Shiva and Parvati and stole the necklace. He used his power to call upon the waves and the winds to flood the village that had betrayed him, sinking all of the temples under the water except the one that had been dedicated to Shiva and Parvati. He left it there as an empty monument, a reminder that now there was no one left to worship them. Then he hid the Necklace once again and took the form of the shark himself so he could always watch over his stolen prize and imagine Shiva’s anger every time he looked at his wife’s bare throat.”
“Wow,” I said. “That story is disturbing on so many different levels. One thing that’s mystifying about Indian mythology is how often the names change. The skin color changes—she’s golden, she’s black, she’s pink. Her name changes—she’s Durga, Kali, Parvati. Her personality changes—she’s a loving mother, she’s a fierce warrior, she’s terrible in her wrath, she’s a lover, she’s vengeful, she’s weak and mortal, then she’s powerful and can’t be defeated. Then there’s her marital status—she’s sometimes single, sometimes married. It’s hard to keep all the stories straight.”
Ren snickered. “Sounds like a normal woman to me.”
I glared at him while Kishan laughed in agreement.
“And sharks? Please, please tell me there isn’t a shark guarding the necklace.”
“I’m not sure what there will be. I sincerely hope there isn’t one,” he answered.
“Are you frightened, Kelsey? You don’t have to be. We’ll both be with you this time,” Ren said.
“Let me sum it up for you with a Shakespeare quote, ‘Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones.’ And I’m a little one. Tigers can’t fight sharks. That being said, I better practice underwater lightning power.” I bit my lip. “What if I just end up electrocuting myself?”
“Hmm. I’ll give that some thought,” Mr. Kadam said.
I gripped Kishan’s hand tightly. As he squeezed back, I continued, “If I had to pick, I’d rather take on the five dragons.”
Mr. Kadam nodded solemnly. Ren and Kishan were quiet, so Mr. Kadam went on, “Would you like to know where we’re going?”
“Yes,” the brothers said in harmony.
“We’ll be going to Indra’s city. It’s called the City of the Seven Pagodas. This city was famous for having seven pagodas, or temples, each one domed with gold. It was an ancient port city built in the seventh century. It’s near Mahabalipuram on the east coast of India. Incidentally, many scholars didn’t even believe it existed until an earthquake swept through the Indian Ocean in 2004. It caused a tsunami that uncovered sand deposits and revealed an elaborate underwater city.
“Before the tsunami hit the coast, the water receded and people high above the waterline reported seeing the remains of buildings and large stones, but the water rushed back in and covered everything again. Those city walls have since been rediscovered about a half mile from the coast.
“Statues of elephants, horses, lions, and deities have now been found. The only building left above water is the Shore Temple. Fishermen had passed down stories of the city for centuries and told tales of seeing the sunken city sparkling beneath the waves, of giant fish that swam through the ruins, of winking jewels left untouched because anyone trying to dive there would be cursed to never rise again.”
“That sounds like a fabulous place,” I said acerbically.
“It caused enough of a stir that several books were written about it, and many archaeologists have studied it. In one book, I read that Marco Polo made note of the city on his visit there in 1275 and said the copper-domed tops of the temples were a landmark for navigators. Many dismissed his claims or thought he spoke of another city. I feel this is the place we need to go to seek out the Black Pearl Necklace.”
I blew out a breath and stood. “Okay. Bring on the diving lessons.”
“First, I think we should relocate.”
“Relocate to where?” I asked, confused.
Mr. Kadam clasped his hands together and answered matter-offactly, “Relocate to the yacht, of course.”
6
The Star Festival
“Nilima has been getting the ship ready in Mumbai,” Mr. Kadam explained. “We’ll sail around India and stop in Goa to pick up our diving instructor. He will remain on board until we drop him off in Trivandrum. It will take you most of the trip to become a proficient diver, and time is of the essence.”
“So you’re ready to go? Just like that? Don’t we have a lot more research to do first?” I asked.
“We will be traveling fairly slowly, and I’ve already stocked the boat’s library with all the research materials we need, so we can work as we set sail. The yacht is capable of making twenty knots and could get us there within a few days if we traveled by night, but I prefer to go much slower. There are stops we must make along the way, to a temple of Durga, for example, and I also want you to have plenty of time for practice dives before we get to the City of the Seven Pagodas.”
I fidgeted nervously. “So when do we leave?”
“After the Star Festival next week,” Mr. Kadam stated, as calm as ever.
Ren sat up. “Do they still celebrate that here?”
Mr. Kadam smiled. “Yes, though the traditions have changed somewhat over the years.”
“What’s the Star Festival?” I interrupted.<
br />
Ren turned to me and explained, “It’s the Chinese equivalent of Valentine’s Day.”
“And India has a festival for that?”
Mr. Kadam clarified, “Japan and even Brazil celebrate a similar holiday. It’s not exactly the same as Valentine’s Day in America. The festival that takes place here is the remnant of a holiday begun by this family.”
Kishan added, “My mother loved the holiday and wanted to celebrate it in India, so my father established it in his kingdom. Apparently, they’ve been doing so ever since.”
“What happens during the Star Festival? What are the traditions?”
Mr. Kadam stood. “I believe I’ll let Ren and Kishan tell you about that. Goodnight, Miss Kelsey.”
“Goodnight.”
I looked from Ren to Kishan and waited for one of them to say something. They stared at each other. I elbowed Kishan. “Well? Tell me.”
“Keep in mind that I haven’t attended the celebration for a few centuries, but if I remember correctly, the city has a party with fireworks, food, and lanterns. The girls all dress up. There’s dancing and music.”
“Oh. So it’s not like an American version of Valentine’s Day? Is it about love? Are there chocolates, flowers, and cards?”
“Well, there are flowers and cards, but they’re not store-bought.”
Ren interrupted. “It’s also an opportunity for someone to wish for the person they want to marry.”
“But I thought most of your marriages were arranged.”
“They are,” Kishan said. “It’s just an innocent way for a maiden to express herself. I’m curious to see how the customs have changed since our time. I think you’ll enjoy yourself, bilauta.” He squeezed my hand and winked at me.
Ren cleared his throat. “In China it’s called the Night of Sevens and is supposed to occur on the seventh day in the seventh month of the year, but the date isn’t as important as the stars. The celebration occurs when the stars Orihime and Hikoboshi align, so when you write your wish, you are literally wishing on a star. I don’t know the English names for those stars. You’d have to ask Mr. Kadam.”
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