Tiger's Quest

by Colleen Houck

  I hollered back, “Give it a try.”

  As I waited for him, I noticed that the floor felt spongy. Probably rotting wood. The walls were coated with something that resembled crusty, brown deli mustard. I heard a bird flapping overhead and a soft screeing. Huh, must be a nest up there. The sounds bounced around the inside of the tree, getting progressively louder and more violent.

  “Uh, Kishan? Hurry up!”

  I raised my flashlight fearfully. I couldn’t see anything, but the air was definitely moving. It seemed as if flocks of birds were slapping against each other in the darkness. Something brushed past my arm and flapped away suddenly. If it was a bird, it was a big one.

  “Kishan!”

  “Almost there.”

  I could hear him sliding along on his stomach. He was almost through.

  Something or a few somethings flapped toward me again. Maybe they’re giant moths. I shut off my light to deter the flapping creatures and listened as Kishan approached.

  First the backpack and then his head emerged. Over my head, something large startled me with frenzied flapping. Pinching, hooked claws curled around my shoulders and took hold. I screamed. They tightened, and with a violent beating of wings and a loud SCREEEEEE, I was lifted into the air.

  Kishan quickly wormed his way out of the hole and grabbed for my leg, but the creature was strong and yanked me away. I heard him shout, “Kelsey!”

  I shouted back, my voice echoing off the walls. I was high up, much higher than Kishan, but I could still faintly make him out below. The creature was soon surrounded by others of its kind, and I was enfolded in a screeching, fluttering, quivering mass of warm bodies. Sometimes, I felt fur brush against my skin, sometimes a leathery membrane, and, once in a while, scratching talons.

  The creature slowed, hovered, and then let go. Before I could scream, I landed with a thud on my backside. I turned on the flashlight that I had somehow managed to hang onto during the sudden ride. Scared to see where I was but determined to find out, I flipped the switch and looked up.

  At first, I couldn’t figure out what I was looking at. All I could see were masses of brown and black bodies. Then, I realized they were bats. Giant bats. I was standing on a ledge with a drop-off of hundreds of feet. Quickly, I scooted back against the wall.

  Kishan yelled my name and tried to move in my direction.

  “I’m okay!” I shouted. “They haven’t hurt me! I’m up here on a ledge!”

  “Hang on, Kells! I’m coming!”

  The bats were hanging upside down and watching Kishan’s progress with blinking black eyes. The mass of bodies was constantly in motion. Some were spider-walking over their peers to a better hanging position. Some flapped their wings before tightly folding them around their bodies. Others rocked back and forth. Some slept.

  They were noisy. They chattered with clicks, pops, and smacks as they hung and watched us.

  Kishan progressed for a while but got stuck and had to backtrack. He tried several times to climb up to where I was, but he was always thwarted. After the sixth try, he stood near the hole and shouted up to me, “It’s impossible, Kells. I can’t get up there!”

  I’d just opened my mouth to answer him when a giant bat spoke.

  “Iiiiiiimpossiiiible heeeee thiiiinks,” it clicked and flapped. “Iiiitt’s possiiiible, Tiiigerrr.”

  I spoke to the bat, “You know that he’s a tiger?”

  “Weeeeee seeeee hiiiiim. Heeaar hiiiiim. Heeeees speeerit eees spliittt.”

  “His spirit is split? What do you mean?”

  “Meeean heee eeeendure grieeeeef. Heeee heeeeal hiiiis stiiiing . . . heeee reeescue youu.”

  “If he heals his sting, he rescues me? How can he do that?”

  “Heee iiiis like weee. Heee is halfff maaan and halfff tiiigerr. Weee aree halfff bird and halfff mammalll. Halfffs neeeeeed beeeee togeeether. Heee musstt eeembracee tiiiigerrr.”

  “How can his two halves be together?”

  “Heeee musstt leearnn.”

  I was about to ask another question when several of the bats dropped into the air and flew to different places in the womb-like cavern. Rhythmic smacks, which I realized was their echo sonar, beat through the air and against the walls. I could actually feel the vibrations on my skin. Soon, small stones embedded in the walls began to glow. The longer the bats kept up their noise, the brighter the lights became. When the bats stopped, the cavern was well lit.

  “Theeeee lightsss wiiill failee wheeeen hiiis time isssss outtt. Heeee musstt heelpp youu beeforeeee. Heee musstt use hiiis maaan and hiiis tiiiigerrr. Teeeell hiiiim.”

  “Okay.” I hollered down to Kishan, “The bats say that you have to use both halves of yourself to reach me before the light turns dim again. They say you have to embrace the tiger part of you.”

  Now that the lights were on, the dangers of the path became obvious. A series of formations similar to stalagmites, but with flat tops, rose in the cavern. They were too far apart for a human to jump, but a tiger might be able to.

  Kishan looked up and threw the chakram into the air. As it soared high, he changed into the black tiger, and leapt. He went fast. I held my breath as he quickly leapt from one thin formation to another without even stopping to balance himself. I gasped in horror knowing each leap could mean his death. When he reached the last one, he overshot slightly and gripped the spongy wood with his claws, twisting his tail around for balance.

  He switched to a man, caught the chakram and threw it high. The perch was tiny, barely big enough for his feet. There was no ledge to jump to from there. Nothing was close enough, even for a tiger. He looked around for a moment, figuring out his next move. The bats blinked and stared at him wide-eyed from their upside down perches. The light started to dim. The darker it was, the more dangerous his climb would be.

  I knew that Kishan could see in the dark better than I could, but the way was still very treacherous. He made a decision, crouched down, switched to the black tiger, and leapt into the air. There was nothing for him to land on.

  I screamed, “Kishan! No!”

  He switched to a man in midair and fell. I leaned down on my belly to peer over the edge of my small shelf and began breathing again when I saw him dangling from a long vine. He was slowly climbing up hand over hand, but he was still too far away. He caught the chakram, held the dangerous weapon in his teeth, and swung back and forth until he could grab onto a protruding piece of wood on the side of the tree. He climbed higher and rested for a minute on a tiny outcropping. After assessing his situation, he grabbed a new vine, jumped, and swung out again.

  Kishan did a series of complicated acrobatic stunts. I saw the man change into tiger and back at least three times. At one point, he threw the chakram, which spun in the cavern, sliced a vine, and flew back to a tiger paw that suddenly became a hand and caught it. Chakram in his mouth again, he swung below me, across the cavern, and pushed off the other side to aim for me. He grabbed the vine he’d cut to complete the swing. As he zoomed toward me, I saw that this vine wasn’t long enough and realized he would land at least ten feet away.

  I wanted to close my eyes but felt I had to watch as Kishan risked his life to reach me. Kishan swung back and pushed off again. This time, when his feet touched the wall, he tossed the chakram still another time. He grabbed the vine in his teeth, quickly changed to the black tiger again, and pushed off hard with his powerful hind legs. He switched to a man again, flew out as high as the vine would take him, and then let go. Twisting in the air, he changed to a tiger. His striped, black body stretched out to my ledge. As his claws sank into the wood near my feet and he hung suspended in midair, the chakram sank into the wood a few inches from my hand. Tiger claws become hands.

  “Kishan!”

  I grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked as hard as I could. He rolled over onto the ledge and lay there, panting, for several minutes. The light had dimmed still more.

  “Yyouu seeeee? Heee diiiid iiiitt.”

  His
arms shook, and I brushed my tears away. “Yes. He did,” I said quietly.

  When Kishan sat up, I grabbed him in a fierce hug and kissed his cheek. He held me close for a minute before reluctantly letting me go. He brushed the hair away from my eyes.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring the backpack,” he said.

  “It’s okay. There was no way you could bring it with all you had to do.”

  “Weeee wiiiill geeet iiiit.”

  I murmured sarcastically, “Too bad they couldn’t bring you up here too.”

  “Weeee mussstt tesssttt hiiiim. Heeee hasss succeeeeeedeedd.”

  One of the bats flew down to retrieve the backpack. It dropped the bag into my waiting hands.

  “Thank you.” I touched Kishan’s arm. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” He grinned rakishly despite his exhaustion. “In fact, I could be convinced to do it again for a real kiss.”

  I punched his arm lightly. “I think one on the cheek was enough, don’t you?”

  He grunted noncommittally. “Where do we go from here?”

  One of the bats spoke, “Weee wiiiiill takeee youu.”

  Two of the bats released their grip on the ceiling and fell several feet before snapping open their wings. They beat them hard, gaining altitude, and hovered above us. Then they descended slowly. Taloned feet gripped my shoulders and tightened.

  I heard the admonition, “Reeeemainn stiiilll,” and decided it was good advice to follow.

  With frenzied flapping, the bats took off, carrying us higher and higher into the tree. It was not a fun ride, but I also recognized that this would save us several hours of climbing. I thought we’d be flying straight up vertically, but, instead, the bats circled, ascending slowly and steadily.

  Eventually, I noticed our surroundings were increasingly brighter. I made out an opening, a crevice that allowed dappled orange sunlight to move across the walls. I felt a cool breeze waft over my skin and smelled fresh living tree instead of the rotting musty odor of fungus, ammonia, and burned citrus. Our winged companions flew out of the opening and, flapping loudly, carefully set us on a branch. The branches were thinner here, but they were easily strong enough for both of us to walk on.

  With a final warning of, “Beeee viiiiggiiilaaant,” they flew back into the tree and left us on our own.

  “Hey, Kells, throw me the backpack. I want to change out of these black clothes and put some shoes on.”

  I threw him the backpack and turned around so he could change.

  “Yeah. Too bad your fairy clothes are gone now. They’ve disappeared into the tiger ether. They were handy to have around. Luckily, Mr. Kadam insisted on a couple of pairs of shoes for you, just in case.”

  “Kells? The fairy clothes are in the bag.”

  “What?” I turned around to find Kishan stripped to the waist and averted my eyes. “How did that happen?”

  “Not sure. Fairy magic I guess. Now turn around unless you want to watch me change.”

  Red-faced, I spun quickly. It was sunset, and we decided to eat and rest. I was worn out but afraid to sleep on a branch, even if it was double the width of a king-size mattress.

  I sat dead in the middle. “I’m afraid I’ll fall off.”

  “You’re tired. You need the rest.”

  “I won’t be able to.”

  “I’ll hold you. You won’t fall.”

  “What if you fall?”

  “Cats don’t fall out of trees unless they want to. Come here.”

  Kishan put one arm around me and cushioned my head on his other. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but I did.

  The next morning, I yawned, rubbed my sleepy eyes, and found Kishan watching me. He had an arm wrapped around my waist, and my head was resting on his other arm.

  “Didn’t you sleep?”

  “I catnapped.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “For an hour or so.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You needed the rest.”

  “Oh. Well, thanks for making sure I didn’t fall.”

  “Kells? I want to say something.”

  “What?” I tucked my fist under my cheek. “What is it?”

  “You . . . you’re very important to me.”

  “You’re very important to me too.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean. I mean . . . I feel . . . and I have reason to believe . . . that we could come to mean something to each other.”

  “You mean something to me now.”

  “Right, but I’m not talking about friendship.”

  “Kishan—”

  “Is there no possibility, not even the smallest chance that you could ever let yourself love me? Don’t you feel anything for me at all?”

  “Of course I do. But—”

  “But nothing. If Ren wasn’t in the picture, would you consider being with me? Could I be someone that you could come to care about?”

  I put my hand on his cheek. “Kishan, I already care about you. I already have feelings for you. I already love you.”

  He smiled and leaned in a little closer. Alarms started going off in my head, and I jerked back and felt like I was falling. I grabbed his arm and held on for dear life.

  He steadied me and studied my face. He surely noticed my look of panic and probably recognized that it wasn’t due to losing my balance. He bridled his emotions, leaned back, and said quietly, “I’d never let you fall, Kells.”

  I wasn’t handling this well, but the best I could give him was, “I know you wouldn’t.”

  He let me go and rose to make our breakfast.

  The stairs were narrower now and wound around the outside of the tree. The trunk was much smaller too. It took us only about thirty minutes to circumnavigate it at this height. After a few frightening hours of stairs that narrowed more and more, we came across a woven rope that dangled from what looked like a tree house.

  I wanted to continue up the stairs, but Kishan wanted to climb the rope. He agreed to go up the stairs with me for another half hour, and, if we didn’t find anything, we’d come back to the rope. It was a moot discussion anyway because, not five minutes later, the stairs became just knobby bumps on the side of the tree trunk and then disappeared altogether.

  As we started back to the rope, I said, “I don’t think I have the arm strength to climb up that high.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got enough arm strength for both of us.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see.”

  When we got to the rope, Kishan took the backpack from me and put it on. Then he beckoned me forward.

  “What?”

  He pointed at the ground in front of him.

  “What are you going to make me do?”

  “You’re going to wrap your arms around my neck and twist your wrists into the top loop of the backpack.”

  “Okay, but don’t try anything funny. I’m very ticklish.”

  He lifted my looped arms around his neck and picked me up, which brought his face very close to mine. He raised an eyebrow. “If I did try something, I can promise you, it wouldn’t be to get a laugh.”

  I laughed nervously, but his face was intense, serious. “Okay. Let’s go already,” I mumbled.

  I felt his muscles tense as he prepared to leap but he looked down at me and his gaze drifted to my lips. He ducked his head and pressed a warm, soft kiss on the side of my mouth.

  “Kishan.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. You were trapped and for once you couldn’t turn away from me. Besides, you’re very kissable. You should be happy that I restrained myself as much as I did.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  With that, he leapt in the air. I let out a squeal at his sudden move. Calmly, he started climbing the rope. He pulled us up hand over hand, stepping onto limbs when he could, sometimes keeping one hand on the rope and one on a branch for balance. Kishan was always careful not to inju
re me. Other than the bouncing, the swinging hundreds or maybe thousands of feet into the air, and the stomach dropping leaps from branches, I felt pretty comfortable. In fact, it was a little too comfortable being pressed up against him.

  Tarzan-like men are my weakness, apparently.

  When we reached the tree house door, Kishan climbed the rope a little higher and hung still while I carefully disengaged myself and jumped onto the wooden floor. Then he kicked off, swung, and landed with a flourish. Clearly, he was having fun.

  “Stop showing off, for heaven’s sake. Do you realize how far up we are and that you could fall to a grisly death at any moment? You are acting like this is a great, fun adventure.”

  He replied, “I have no idea how far up we are. And I don’t care. But, yes. I’m having fun. I like being a man all the time. And I like being with you.” He wrapped his hands around my waist and drew me closer.

  “Hmm.” I extricated myself as quickly as possible.

  I couldn’t blame him for the being human part and didn’t know what to say about the being with me part, so I said nothing. We sat down on the wooden floor of the tree house and searched through all of Mr. Kadam’s notes. We read through them twice and waited, but still nothing happened in the tree house. This was supposed to be the house of birds, but I didn’t see any. Maybe we were in the wrong place. I started to get antsy.

  “Hello? Is anybody here?” my voice echoed.

  A flapping and hoarse croaking rrronk answered me. Up in the corner of the tree house, we saw a hidden nest. Two black ravens peeped over the edge to watch us. They called to each other with a thumping sound, a knocking that came from deep in their throats.

  The birds left their perch and circled the tree house, performing acrobatics in the air. They did somersaults and even flew upside down. Each pass brought them closer to us. Kishan unlatched his chakram and raised it like a knife.