Tiger's Voyage (22 page)

Water began dripping down the statue. It started as a trickle. Then something seemed to burst and a flood poured down and pooled across the floor. A river of water rushed into the temple from every door. Waves of water beat against my legs like surf, and a whipping wind pummeled us. Just as the lights went out, drops of rain hit our faces. Soon our feet

no longer touched the floor. We had no choice but to swim in the dark water as the waves grew bigger.

Ren yelled, “Kelsey! Grab onto my shirt! Don’t let go!”

I screamed when something grabbed my leg.

“It’s me!”

“Kishan? We have to find Mr. Kadam!”

The three of us bobbed, riding impossibly high waves as we called out to Mr. Kadam. Finally, we heard him. “I’m here.”

Ren left me with Kishan and used the tired-swimmer tow Wes had taught us to bring Mr. Kadam closer. Soon the wind quieted, and the waves stilled. I heard a sucking, draining sound. After a few minutes, Ren said he could stand again. It wasn’t long before I could stand too, and the four of us huddled together in the darkness, wet and uncomfortable.

“I should have asked more questions before I decided to tag along,” Mr. Kadam said as he chuckled. “I might have decided to let you three do this on your own.”

The water was almost gone, and Kishan wandered across the room to retrieve our backpacks. He pulled out a glow stick from his and used the light to examine the statue. The beautiful gold and silk were now sodden and filthy. Mud and seaweed covered it, the floor, and us.

“Uh … you might not be getting your deposit back, Mr. Kadam,” I said drolly.

“Indeed.”

“Kelsey! Here!” Kishan gestured me closer.

A handprint had emerged on the throne where none was before.

“Okay. Stand back.”

Kishan retreated only a little as I pressed my hand onto the print and released my lightning power. My hand turned blue and then translucent, and Phet’s marks surfaced once again. I felt something shift in the statue before Kishan pulled me back. A soft rain fell from above. The sodden headdress and golden crown melted away. The golden throne melted too and became a seat of coral encrusted with shells, starfish, and jewels. Durga’s arms dripped rainwater, and two of them began moving.

The goddess brushed water droplets from her arms, and where she wiped, her iridescent glowing skin brightened the room enough for us to see her clearly. Her skin had a pearly luster of alabaster that shifted as she moved, shimmering with blues, greens, and purples. She turned slightly, and a spectacular gleam of light caused me to close my eyes. When I opened them I thought the swirling patterns on her skin reminded me of a pearlescent nail polish, or maybe it was more like the scales of a fish. Whatever it was, it was lovely.

Durga pushed away the remaining piece of her headdress and brushed back her hair in the rain as if she was showering. I watched in fascination as all the gold washed away to reveal the beautiful goddess’s long, dark hair. She wore a simple sea-green dress and a lei of lotus flowers. Her feet were bare. When the shower stopped, she squeezed the water out of her hair and pulled the dripping mass over one shoulder.

With a voice like a tinkling mermaid, Durga laughed. “Ah, Kelsey, my daughter. Your offerings are accepted.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw objects shimmering from all over the room where the water had deposited them.

Durga clucked her tongue. “Oh, but you are all uncomfortable. Let me help.” She clapped a pair of her hands together, and when she drew them apart, a rainbow appeared. She nudged it, and it wound toward us like a snake, encircling all of us. Within moments, we were clean and dry. The rainbow circled around Durga as well before dissipating, leaving her dry, with coral-red lips and rosy cheeks.

With a crooked finger, the goddess beckoned me closer. Fanindra came alive and slid from my arm to Durga’s lap, then coiled around her wrist.

Durga spoke as she patted the snake’s head. “I miss you too.” She picked up Nilima’s piece of silk and pressed it to her cheek.

Indicating the cloth, she said, “We will talk of this soon. But first, I must meet someone.”

“Yes. This is Mr. Kadam,” I said gesturing to him.

Mr. Kadam came closer and knelt on the ground.

“Please rise and speak with me.”

He stood, pressed his hands together, and bowed.

“I am glad that you have come to see me. You have sacrificed much and will be asked to sacrifice more. Are you willing to do that?”

“I would sacrifice anything for my children.”

The goddess smiled at him. “Well said. If only there were more men, more fathers such as you. I sense your great pride and joy in them. This is the greatest blessing and fulfillment a father can have: to spend your years developing and nurturing your children and then to see the glorious results—strong, noble sons who remember your lessons and who will pass them on to their own. This is what all good fathers wish for. Your name will be remembered with much respect and love.”

A tear dripped down Mr. Kadam’s cheek, and I squeezed his hand. Durga turned her attention to Kishan.

“My ebony one, come closer.”

Kishan approached the goddess with a wide grin. She held out a hand for him to kiss. She smiled at him in return, and, for a second, I thought it was more than just a goddess-to-subject kind of smile. “This is for you,” Durga said. She took a thin necklace I hadn’t seen from her neck and placed it around Kishan’s. A nautilus shell was strung on the end.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s a
kamandal
. Once dipped into the Ocean of Milk, it will never empty.”

Kishan bowed. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“White tiger, come to me.”

As Ren approached, I moved to the other side of Kishan.

“I have something for you as well.” Another arm materialized from behind her back to hand Ren a golden weapon that looked like one of the Sai knives hanging in Mr. Kadam’s sword collection at home. I heard a click as she turned the knife and separated its wicked blades. After joining them again, Durga twisted the handle until the points rolled and the head rotated.

The staff lengthened and became a trident. She pointed it away and pushed on the end. A long, thin spear shot out of the center tip and buried itself into the stone wall. A replacement spear materialized. She twisted the handle again, and it shrank back to its smaller form. Ren took it from her palm, marveling at the golden weapon.

“This is called a
trishula
, or ‘trident.’”

“Thank you, goddess.” Ren backed away, saying nothing else.

She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, and then turned to me with a smile. “I would like to speak with my daughter alone now.”

The men all nodded. “We’ll wait for you in the car, Miss Kelsey. We have plenty of time before we need to head back to the boat.”

Ren was the last to leave. Briefly, he looked at the goddess and me, before disappearing down the hall with the others. When I turned back to Durga, she was petting Fanindra and cooing at the snake. I let them visit for a minute, wondering what I would say about the silk offering.

She finally turned her attention back to me and reached out a finger to lift my chin. “Why are you still so sad, dear one? Did I not keep my promise to watch over your tiger?”

“You did. He’s back and safe, but he doesn’t remember me. He’s blocked me out, and he says we aren’t meant to be together.”

“What is meant to be is meant to be. All things in this universe are known, and yet mortals must still seek to discover their own purpose,

their own destiny, and they must make choices that take them on a path of their own choosing. Yes. Your white tiger has made the decision to remove you from his memory.”

“But why?”

“Because he loves you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Things often don’t when you have your nose pressed against them. Take a step back and try to see the whole picture.” She rubbed the silk cloth between her fingers. “Much sacrifice has been made on your behalf. Many maidens come to this shrine seeking my blessing. They wish for a virtuous husband, and they want to have a good life. Is that what you seek also, Kelsey? Do you wish for an honest, noble young man to be your life’s companion?”

“I … I haven’t really been thinking of marriage, to be honest with you. But yes, I would like my life’s companion to be honest and noble and my friend. I want to love him without regrets.”

She smiled at me. “To have regret is to be disappointed with yourself and your choices. Those who are wise see their lives like stepping stones across a great river. Everyone misses a stone from time to time. No one can cross the river without getting wet. Success is measured by your arrival on the other side, not on how muddy your shoes are. Regrets are felt by those who do not understand life’s purpose. They become so disillusioned that they stand still in the river and do not take the next leap.”

I nodded.

Durga leaned over to stroke my hair. “Do not fear. He
will
be your friend, your mate in every way. And you will love him more fiercely than you have loved before. You will love him as much as he loves you. You will be happy.”

“But which brother is it?”

She smiled and ignored my question. “I will also consider your sister Nilima. A woman of such devotion needs love too, I should think. Take this.” She handed me her lei of lotus flowers. “It has no special power except that the blooms will not fade, but it will serve a purpose on your voyage. I want you to learn the lesson of the lotus. This flower springs forth from muddy waters. It raises its delicate petals to the sun and perfumes the world while, at the same time, its roots cling to the elemental muck, the very essence of the mortal experience. Without that soil, the flower would wither and die.”

She placed the lei over my neck. “Dig down and grow strong roots, my daughter, for you will stretch forth, break out of the waters, and find peace on the calm surface at last. You will discover that if you hadn’t stretched, you would have drowned in the deep, never to blossom or share your gifts with others.”

I nodded and wiped a tear from my eye. Durga’s limbs started moving and tightening, taking on a golden hue once again. “It’s time to leave me, precious one. Take Fanindra.”

The snake flicked her tongue out a few times and then, leaving Durga’s wrist, wound onto my arm. Liquid gold began rising up the sides of the throne, covering the coral and shells.

“When you get to the City of the Seven Pagodas, seek out the Shore Temple. A woman waits there for you. She will give you guidance on your voyage.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

Durga’s coral-red lips smiled again and hardened. Liquid gold swept over her body and face, and she was soon a statue. The piece of silk was still clutched in her hand as if someone had tucked it into her fist.

“Good-bye.” I turned away from the statue and patted Fanindra’s head. The lights flickered on, and the hall looked as if it had never been disturbed. I inhaled the sweet scent of the lotus flowers as I made my

way back to the Jeep. The flowers smelled like citrus, grapefruit, maybe. The scent was light and floral and feminine, a little bit like jasmine and gardenia. I was thinking so hard about what Durga had said that when a warm hand took my elbow, it startled me.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t have to wait for me, Kishan.”

He kissed my forehead. “Sure, I did. Come on. The others are in the car. Let’s get back to the boat.”

When we got back to the ship, Ren gave the trident to Kishan before disappearing again.

By the time I woke up the next morning, the
Deschen
was under way again. I met Wes, Kishan, and a reluctant Ren in the media room that afternoon for some shark training. We watched DVDs of sharks in their native environment. Wes didn’t believe in watching shark-attack videos. He felt they only created panic.

“The less panicked you are, the better chance you have of surviving,” Wes said. “The first thing you should learn about sharks is how to avoid drawing their attention. Sharks like to hang out between sandbars, near steep drop-offs, and anywhere the fishing is good. If you see a lot of birds in an area, that means lunch, and lunch means sharks. Don’t dive during feeding hours—that would be dawn, dusk, and night. But if the grub is good, sharks will eat any time of the day. Don’t wear shiny, flashy clothes. Muted shades are better, like your wet suit. A flash looks like fish scales in the water.”

Ren raised his head to look at me. “We’ll get you a black swimsuit at the next port.”

“I believe you were the one who insisted I buy a colorful suit.”

“I’m glad you won’t be wearing that one anymore anyway. It’s too … enticing.”

I glared at him across the room. “You don’t get to choose what I do with my life anymore, remember? And if I want to
entice
someone, I will.”

Ren replied in a dangerous tone. “Fine. Entice every shark in the ocean then. Is that what you’re trying to accomplish?”

“You’d probably like that. It sure would be a lot easier on you if some giant shark made off with me. That would solve
all
your problems now, wouldn’t it?”

Kishan interrupted after shoving Ren on the arm. “Nobody wants you to get eaten by a giant shark, Kells. Not even Ren.”

Ren and I were staring angrily at each other across the room when Wes howled with laughter. “Whew! You two are blowin’ hotter air than a tornado circlin’ a volcano in Hades. It’s likely ta melt all the bolts holdin’ this boat together.”

“Sorry, Wes, but he started it,” I said huffily.

“And I’ll be more than happy to finish it.”

“I’d like to see you try, you hardheaded—”

Ren smiled coldly and countered, “
Unbending
.”

“Mulish!”

“Unreasonable!”

“Bullheaded, pigheaded,
tiger
headed—”

“
Tiger
headed?” Wes asked in puzzlement.

Kishan just shrugged his shoulders.

I went on, now that I was on a roll. “Cold-blooded, insensitive, inflexible …
heartless
man!”