Tiger's Curse

by Colleen Houck

  From a place of utter tranquility, I slurred thickly, saying, “A lotus scent? How could you smell that with all the other noxious odors in there?”

  He touched my nose with the tip of his finger. “It’s my tiger nose. I can smell lots of things people can’t.” He squeezed my shoulders one last time and said, “Come on, Kelsey. Get dressed. We have work to do.”

  Ren circled around to the front of the chair and offered me his hand. I put mine in his and felt tingly, electric sparks shoot down my arm. He grinned and kissed my fingers.

  Shocked, I asked, “Did you feel that too?”

  The Indian prince winked at me. “Definitely.”

  Something about the way he said “definitely” made me wonder if we were talking about the same thing.

  After I got dressed, I went downstairs to the peacock room, and found Mr. Kadam hunched over a large table stacked with various tomes. Ren, the tiger, was perched beside him on an ottoman.

  I dragged another chair over to the table and shoved aside a large stack of books so I could see what Mr. Kadam was working on.

  Mr. Kadam rubbed his tired, red eyes.

  “Have you been working on this since we got home, Mr. Kadam?”

  “Yes. This is fascinating! I’ve already translated the writing on the paper rubbing that you did, and I am now working on the pictures you took of the monolith.” He handed me his notes.

  “Wow, you’ve been very busy!” I commented admiringly. “What do you think ‘four gifts’ and ‘five sacrifices’ means?”

  “I am not completely sure,” Mr. Kadam replied. “But, I think it might mean that your quest isn’t over just yet. There may be more tasks that you and Ren need to complete before the spell can be broken. For example, I have finished translating one side of the monolith, and it indicates that you need to go somewhere else to obtain an object, a gift, that you’ll give to Durga. You will need to find four gifts. My guess is that there’s a different gift mentioned on each wall. I’m afraid you’re only at the first step of this journey.”

  “Okay, so what does the first wall say?”

  Mr. Kadam pushed a piece of paper toward me.

  For protection, seek her temple

  And take hold of Durga’s blessing.

  Travel west and search Kishkindha

  Where simians rule the ground.

  Gada strike in Hanuman’s realm;

  And hunt the branch that’s bound.

  Thorny dangers grasp above;

  Dazzling dangers lie below,

  Strangle, ensnare, the ones you love—

  And trap in brackish undertow.

  Lurid phantoms thwart your route

  And guardians wait to bar your way.

  Beware once they begin pursuit

  Or embrace their moldering decay.

  But all of this you can refute

  If serpents find forbidden fruit

  And India’s hunger satisfy . . .

  Lest all her people surely die.

  “Mr. Kadam, what’s Hanuman’s realm?”

  “I’ve been researching that,” he replied. “Hanuman is the monkey god. His realm is said to be Kishkindha, or the Monkey Kingdom. There is great debate as to where Kishkindha was located, but the current thought is that the ruins of Hampi are most likely to be on, or near, ancient Kishkindha.”

  From the stack on the table, I pulled out a book that had detailed maps, found Hampi in the index, and thumbed through the pages. It was located in the bottom half of India in the southwestern region.

  “Does that mean we have to go to Kishkindha, deal with a monkey god, and find a branch of some sort?”

  Mr. Kadam answered, “I believe what you will be seeking is actually the forbidden fruit.”

  “As in Adam and Eve? Is that the forbidden fruit you’re talking about?”

  Mr. Kadam considered, “I don’t think so. Fruit is a common enough mythological prize, symbolic of life. People need to eat, and we depend upon the fruits of the ground for sustenance. Often, different cultures of the earth celebrate fruit or the harvest in a variety of ways.”

  “Yes!” I responded. “Americans celebrate the harvest at Thanksgiving and display a cornucopia. Are there any stories in India regarding famous fruits?”

  “I’m not sure, Miss Kelsey. The pomegranate is important to many Indian cultures, as well as to the Persians and Romans. I’ll have to look more into that, but offhand, there’s nothing else I can think of.”

  Mr. Kadam smiled and put his nose back into his translations.

  Picking up a few books on Indian culture and history, I made my way over to a cozy chair and sat down with a lap-pillow to read. Ren hopped off the stool and curled up at my feet, actually, on top of my feet, keeping them toasty while Mr. Kadam continued to research at his desk.

  I felt like I was back in my parents’ library again. It felt natural to sit relaxing with these two, even though they were affected by unnatural elements. I reached down to scratch Ren behind his ear. He purred contentedly but didn’t open his eyes. Then I shot a smile over at Mr. Kadam, even though he didn’t see it. I felt happy and complete, as if I belonged. Setting aside my musings, I found a chapter about Hanuman and began to read.

  “He is a Hindu god, who is the personification of devotion and great physical strength. He served his lord Rama by going to Lanka to find Rama’s wife Sita.”

  Phew . . . too many names.

  “He found that she had been captured by the Lanka king named Ravana. There was a great battle between Rama and Ravana, and, during that time, Rama’s brother fell ill. Hanuman went to the Himalayan Mountains to seek an herb to help heal Rama’s brother, but he couldn’t identify the herb, so, instead, he brought back the entire mountain.”

  I wonder how he moved the mountain exactly. I hope we don’t have to do that.

  “Hanuman was made immortal and invincible. He is half-human and half-ape and is faster, quicker, and mightier than all other apes. The son of a wind god, Hanuman is still worshiped today by many Hindus who sing his hymns and celebrate his birth every year.”

  “Strong ape-man, mountain moving, and singing. Got it,” I mumbled sleepily.

  It was still the middle of the night, and I was feeling warm and tired despite my long rest earlier. I set my book down and, with Ren still curled at my toes, dozed for a while.

  I left Mr. Kadam alone most of the next day, encouraging him to get some sleep. He’d stayed up all night, so I tried to move through the house quietly.

  Later that afternoon, he visited me on the terrace. He smiled as we sat down.

  “Miss Kelsey, how are you faring? These burdens you’re facing must weigh very heavily on you, especially now that we know we have more journeys to take.”

  “I’m okay, really. What’s a little bug juice between friends?”

  He smiled, but then his expression became serious again. “If you ever feel pushed too far . . . I just . . . don’t want to endanger you. You have become very important to me.”

  “It’s alright, Mr. Kadam. Don’t worry. This is what I was born to do, right? Besides, Ren needs my help. If I don’t help him, he’ll be stuck as a tiger forever.”

  Mr. Kadam smiled and patted my hand. “You’re a very brave and courageous young lady. A finer lady I haven’t met in a long, long time. I hope Ren sees how lucky he is.”

  I blushed and looked out at the pool.

  He continued, “From what I have gathered so far, we need to go to Hampi next. That distance is entirely too far for the two of you to go alone. I will accompany you on the journey. We’ll leave at first light tomorrow. I want you to rest as much as you can today. You still have a few hours of daylight left. You should relax. Perhaps take a swim. Do something for yourself.”

  After Mr. Kadam left, I thought about what he’d said. A swim would be relaxing.

  Changing into a swimsuit, I slathered sunscreen over me as best I could and dove into the cool water.

  I swam several laps and then flipped
over on my back and looked up at the palm trees. They towered over the pool, and I lazily floated in and out of their shade. The sun had dipped down to tree level, but the air was still warm and pleasant. I heard a noise from the side of the pool and saw Ren lying at the edge watching me swim.

  I ducked under the surface, swam up close to where he was, and then popped out of the water.

  “Hey, Ren.” I splashed him and laughed.

  The white tiger just harrumphed at me, blowing out some air.

  “Come on. Don’t want to play, huh? Okay, suit yourself.”

  I swam several more laps and finally decided I’d better go in because my fingers had turned into wrinkled prunes. Wrapping a towel around my body and hair, I made my way up the steps to shower. I emerged from the bathroom to see Ren lying on the rug. There was a silvery blue rose on my pillow.

  “Is this for me?”

  Ren made a tiger noise that seemed to mean yes.

  Crushing the flower to my nose, I inhaled the sweet fragrance deeply and flipped over on my stomach to look at the tiger at the side of my bed.

  “Thank you, Ren. It’s beautiful!” I kissed him on the top of his furry head, scratched him behind the ears, and laughed as he leaned into the scratch. “Would you like me to read you some more Romeo and Juliet?”

  He lifted a paw and placed it on my leg.

  “I guess that means yes. Okay, let’s see. Where were we? Ah, Act II, Scene III. Enter Friar Lawrence and then Romeo.”

  We had just finished the scene when Romeo kills Tybalt when Ren interrupted.

  “Romeo was a fool,” Ren said, suddenly back in human form. “His big mistake was not announcing the marriage. He should have told both families. Keeping the marriage a secret will ruin Romeo. Secrets like that can be the downfall of any man. They’re often more destructive than the sword.”

  Ren sat there quietly, wrapped in his own thoughts.

  I asked softly, “Should I continue?”

  He shook off his momentary melancholy and smiled. “Please.”

  I repositioned myself to sit up against the headboard and pulled a pillow on my lap. He changed back into a tiger and leapt up onto the foot of the bed. He stretched out on his side at the bottom of the huge mattress.

  I started reading again. Every time I read something Ren didn’t like, he flicked his tail in annoyance.

  “Quit twitching, Ren! You’re tickling my toes!”

  That statement only inspired him to do it more. When I got to the end of the play, I closed the book and peeked at Ren to see if he was still awake. He was, and he’d changed back to a man again. He was still lying on his side at the foot of the bed with his head propped up on his arm.

  I asked, “What did you think? Were you surprised at the ending?”

  Ren considered his answer. “Yes and no. Romeo made some bad decisions throughout the entire play. He was more worried about himself than his wife. He didn’t deserve her.”

  “Does the ending bother you that much? Most people focus on the romance of it, the tragedy that they could never be together. I’m sorry if you didn’t like it.”

  Ren’s thoughtful faced brightened. “On the contrary, I quite enjoyed it. I haven’t had someone to talk with about plays or poetry in . . . well, since my parents died. I used to write poetry myself, in fact.”

  I admitted softly, “Me too. I miss having someone to talk with.”

  Ren’s handsome face lit up in a warm smile, and I suddenly became preoccupied with a string on my sleeve. He hopped off the bed, picked up my hand, and bowed deeply.

  “Perhaps I will read some of my poetry to you next time.”

  He flipped my hand over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on my palm. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I leave you with a holy palmer’s kiss. Goodnight, Kelsey.”

  Ren quietly closed the door behind him, and I tugged the covers up to my chin. My palm still tingled where he’d kissed it. I smelled my rose again, smiled, and tucked it into the arrangement on my dresser.

  Wiggling under my covers, I sighed dreamily and fell asleep.

  13

  waterfall

  the next morning I got up and found a half-full backpack by my door with a note from Mr. Kadam. It said that I should pack three or four days’ worth of clothes and to include my swimsuit.

  The swimsuit, hung overnight, was dry now. I tossed it in my bag, included a towel for good measure, piled the rest of my things on top of that, and made my way downstairs.

  Mr. Kadam and Ren were already in the Jeep when I hopped in. As soon as my seatbelt clicked, Mr. Kadam handed me a breakfast bar and a bottle of juice and sped off.

  “What’s the hurry?” I asked.

  He answered, “Ren has added a detour to our trip and would like to stop somewhere on the way. The plan is to drop the two of you off for a few days and then return to pick you up later. After that, we will proceed to Hampi.”

  “What kind of a detour?”

  “Ren would prefer to explain it to you himself.”

  “Hmm.”

  From the look on his face, I knew that no matter how I wheedled him, Mr. Kadam would not divulge any details. I decided to set aside my curiosity about the future and focus on the past instead.

  “Since we’re in for a long drive, why don’t you tell me more about yourself, Mr. Kadam? What was your life like growing up?”

  “Alright. Let me see. I was born twenty-two years before Ren in June 1635. I was an only child born to a military family of the Kshatriya caste. So, it was natural for me to be trained to enter the military.”

  “What’s a Kshatriya caste?”

  “India has four castes, or varnas, similar to different social classes: the Brahmins are teachers, priests, and scholars; the Kshatriyas are rulers and protectors; the Vaishyas are farmers and traders; and the Shudras are craft workers and servants. There are also different levels in each caste.

  “People of different castes never mingled with one another during any part of their life. Their entire life was lived within their own group. Though officially outlawed for the last fifty years or so, the caste system is still practiced in several parts of the country.”

  “Was your wife from the same caste as you?”

  “It was easier for me to continue my role as a retired soldier who was highly favored by the king, so the answer is yes.”

  “But was it an arranged marriage? I mean, you loved her, right?”

  “Her parents arranged it, but we were happy together for the time allotted to us.”

  I stared at the road ahead of us for a moment and then glanced at Ren, who was napping in the back.

  “Mr. Kadam, does it bother you that I ask so many questions? Don’t feel like you have to answer all of them, especially if they’re too personal or painful for you.”

  “I don’t mind, Miss Kelsey. I enjoy talking with you.” He smiled at me and changed lanes.

  “Okay, then. Tell me a little bit about your military career. You must have fought some really interesting battles.”

  He nodded. “I started training when I was very young. I think I must have started at age four. We never went to school. As future military men, our entire young lives were devoted to being good soldiers, and all of our studies were in the art of warfare. There were dozens, perhaps even a hundred different kingdoms in India at the time. I was fortunate to live in one of the most powerful ones under a good king.”

  “What kinds of weapons did you use?”

  “I was trained in all variety of weapons, but the first skill we were taught was hand-to-hand combat. Have you ever seen martial arts movies?”

  “If you mean like Jet Li and Jackie Chan, then yes.”

  He nodded. “Fighters who were skilled in hand-to-hand combat were highly sought after. As a young man, I rose in rank quickly because of my skill in this area. No one was able to best me in sparring matches. Well, almost no one. Ren has beaten me on occasion.”

  I looked at him with surprise. “Mr. Kadam
! Are you telling me you are a master of karate?”

  “Something like that.” He smiled. “I was never as good as the celebrated masters who came to train us, but I picked up enough. I enjoy sparring, but my great skill is with the sword.”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn karate.”

  “During that time, we didn’t call it karate. The martial arts that we used during warfare was less visually exciting. It emphasized overcoming your opponent as quickly as possible which often meant killing or striking a blow that would knock someone out long enough for you to escape. It wasn’t as structured as you see it today.”

  “Gotcha, no Karate Kid I, skip ahead to Karate Kid II. Fights to the death it is. So, you and Ren are both trained in martial arts.”

  He smiled. “Yes, and he was very adept. As the future king, he studied the sciences, crafts, the arts, and philosophy, as well as many other branches of knowledge known as the sixty-four arts. He was also trained in all manner of warfare, including the martial arts.

  “Ren’s mother was also well versed in the martial arts. She had been taught in Asia and insisted that her children be able to protect themselves. Experts were brought in, and our kingdom quickly became renowned for fighting in that medium.”

  For a minute, I allowed myself to get lost in the visual image of Ren doing martial arts. Fighting without his shirt on. Bronze skin. Taut muscles. I shook my head and berated myself. Snap out of it, girl!

  I cleared my throat, “Umm, so what were you saying?”

  “Chariots . . .” Mr. Kadam continued, not even noticing my brief lack of attention. “Most of the soldiers were in the infantry, and that’s the area in which I started. I was trained in the use of the sword, the spear, the mace, as well as many other weapons before I moved on to chariots. By the age of twenty-five, I was in charge of the king’s army. By the age of thirty-five, my job was to teach others, including Ren, and I was called to be the king’s special military advisor and war strategist, particularly in the use of battle elephants.”