Read Tiger's Voyage Page 3


  “Do you feel pain when you’re in another part of the house?”

  “No, only touching you causes the blistering pain. Seeing you or hearing you brings on the other symptoms in varying degrees. If you’re sitting far enough away, it’s barely a twinge. It’s merely uncomfortable, and I have to fight the urge to get away. Holding your hand or touching your face is like handling red hot coals.”

  “When you first came back and we talked, you put my foot in your lap. Didn’t that hurt?”

  “Your foot was on a pillow. I touched it for only a few seconds, and I was in so much pain at the time anyway that I barely noticed more.”

  “Let’s test it. Stand over there by the bathroom door, and I’ll go to the other side of the room.”

  He moved.

  “So right now, how do you feel?”

  “I feel like I need to get out of here. The discomfort has lessened, but the longer I stay, the worse it will get.”

  “Is the need to leave a creepy feeling, like you need to run to save your life?”

  “No. It’s a desperation that builds … like when you hold your breath underwater. It’s fine at first, maybe even nice, but soon it feels like my lungs are screaming for air, and it’s all I can do not to claw my way to the surface.”

  “Hmm, maybe you have PTSD.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s a condition you get when you’ve been exposed to terrible trauma and high stress levels. Soldiers in combat usually have it. Remember when you told Kishan that when you heard my name, all you could picture was Lokesh torturing you, questioning you?”

  “Right. There’s still some of that, I guess. But now that I know you better I don’t associate you with him as much anymore. I can distance that from you now. It wasn’t because of you that it happened.”

  “Part of your symptoms with me might still be related to that. Maybe you need a therapist.”

  Ren chuckled, “Kelsey, first of all, a therapist would put me in an asylum for claiming I was a tiger. Second, I’m no stranger to bloody battles or pain. It wasn’t the first time Lokesh has tortured me. It was definitely an experience I wouldn’t want to go through again, but I know that you are not to blame.”

  “It doesn’t make you less of a man to ask for help once in a while.”

  “I’m not trying to be heroic about it if that’s what you’re getting at. If it makes you feel better, I’ve already started talking with Kishan about it.”

  I blinked. “Has he been helpful?”

  “Kishan is … surprisingly sympathetic. He’s a different man now. He said he’s changed because of you. You’ve influenced him. Brought out a side of him I haven’t seen since our mother died.”

  I nodded. “He’s a good man.”

  “We’ve talked about many things. Not just about Lokesh but about our past too. He told me about Yesubai and about how the two of you have become close.”

  “Oh.” For a panicked moment, I wondered if Kishan had shared other things with Ren, things like maybe his feelings. I wasn’t sure I wanted to broach that subject, so I changed it. “I don’t want you to feel pain or suffer when you’re near me. Maybe it would be better for you to avoid being around me.”

  “I don’t want to avoid you. I like you.”

  “You do?” I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Yes. I imagine that’s why I dated you,” he said dryly. He slid down to the floor and rested his back against the bathroom door. “Let’s see how long I can last. Come closer.”

  Obediently, I took a few steps forward. He gestured to me again. “No. Closer. Sit on the bed.”

  I got on the bed and watched his face for pain. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Tell me about our first date.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It’s tolerable now.”

  I scooted to the edge of the bed farthest away from him, crawled under the covers, and put my pillow in my lap. “Okay, our first date would probably be the one you tricked me into.”

  “When was this?”

  “Right after we left Kishkindha. In that restaurant at the hotel.”

  “The restaurant? Is that the one right after I got six hours back?”

  “Yes. What do you remember about that?”

  “Nothing, except eating dinner for the first time in centuries in a nice restaurant with a table full of food. I felt … happy.”

  “Ha! Well, I imagine you did feel happy. You were very smug, and you flirted shamelessly with the waitress.”

  “Did I?” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t even remember the waitress.”

  I snorted. “How is it you always know the right things to say even when you can’t remember anything?”

  He grinned. “Must be a gift. So about the waitress … was she pretty? Tell me more.”

  I described our date and how we’d fought over dinner. I told him about how he’d ordered a feast and tricked Mr. Kadam into bringing me there. I described how handsome he looked, about how we’d argued, and how I’d stomped on his foot when he winked at the waitress.

  “What happened after dinner?”

  “You walked me back to my room.”

  “And?”

  “And … nothing.”

  “Didn’t I at least kiss you goodnight?”

  “No.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  I laughed. “It’s not that you didn’t want to. You were punishing me.”

  “Punishing you?”

  “In a way. You wanted me to admit my feelings.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “No. I’m pretty stubborn.”

  “I see. So the waitress flirted with me, huh?”

  “If you don’t stop grinning at the thought of the waitress, I’m going to punch your arm and make you physically sick.”

  He laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would.”

  “I’m too fast for you to even come close.”

  “Want to bet?”

  I crawled across the bed while he watched me with an amused expression. I leaned over the side, made a fist with my good hand, and swung, but he quickly spun away, got to his feet, and was now standing at the foot of the bed. Getting off the bed, I walked around the side, trying to corner him. He laughed softly and motioned me closer. I stalked toward him slowly.

  He stood his ground with a soft smile of confidence and let me approach him. When I was five steps away, he lost his smile. At three steps, he grimaced. At one step, he groaned and staggered. He moved several feet away and clutched the back of the couch for support as he took some deep breaths.

  “I think that’s all I can handle tonight. Sorry, Kelsey.”

  I took several steps backward and said softly, “I’m sorry too.”

  He opened the door, and gave me a small smile. “I think it was worse this time because I touched your hand for so long. The pain built up too quickly. Normally, standing next to you doesn’t affect me so strongly.”

  I nodded.

  He grinned. “Next time I’ll just have to remember to touch you at the end of the evening. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  A few days later, our tiger’s curse adventure started up again. We set off to visit the shaman Phet who had finally replied to Mr. Kadam’s courier and indicated that he wanted to see “Tigers, Kahl-see, and Durga’s special gifts.” He was adamant that just the three of us make the journey.

  Although I didn’t voice the thought, I hoped Phet, with his odd, mystical ways and herbal potions, would be able to reverse Ren’s memory loss.

  Even though Ren and I were on much better footing and both brothers seemed to get along since our last road trip, I still felt a bit uneasy about being trapped in a small space with two hot-headed tigers. Well, if they act up, I’ll just blast them with a little lightning burn. That’ll teach them not to fight when I’m
around, I thought with a grin and stepped into the morning sunshine.

  The men were standing by the newly washed and gassed-up Jeep when I walked out the front door. Mr. Kadam placed the backpack full of weapons on the backseat, winked at me, and hugged me. I swung another bag containing my grandmother’s quilt, which had so far proven to be lucky, next to our weapons.

  We were all wearing hiking boots and smooth seamless cargo pants that Ren had made with the Divine Scarf. He had looked up styles on the Internet and had the Scarf create them in multiple colors. He claimed my apple-green shirt would protect my body from UV rays and could wick moisture away and be breathable at the same time. I had to admit the shirt was comfortable, and to show him how much I liked it, I had twisted my hair into two long French braids and tied an apple-green ribbon to the bottom of both tails.

  Kishan wore a brick-red shirt of the same fabric, but it had a pocket on the side seam, while Ren wore a seamless cerulean-blue shirt that clung to his muscular frame. He was still thin, but he’d started to gain weight back in the weeks he’d been home, and his daily workouts with Kishan were showing results. It obviously didn’t take long for his muscles to make a comeback.

  “Can you even breathe in that shirt, Ren?” I teased lightheartedly. “You probably could have gone a size up.”

  Ren replied, “The shirt is tight so it doesn’t inhibit movement.”

  My snort turned to a giggle. Then, spurred on by Kishan, the giggle changed to loud peals of laughter.

  “It’s not like there are any pretty waitresses out there in the jungle, Ren. There’s no reason for you to show off your muscles.”

  Still laughing, Kishan claimed the driver’s seat.

  As I grabbed the door handle, Ren leaned over and murmured in my ear. “In case you didn’t notice, your shirt is pretty tight too, Kelsey.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “And there it is.”

  I punched him on the arm and hissed, “There what is?”

  He winced and rubbed his arm, but grinned. “Your lovely blush.”

  He hopped into the car and playfully shoved Kishan aside so he too could listen to Mr. Kadam’s driving instructions along with his plea that Kishan maneuver carefully and not crash the car.

  I got in the back and clicked on my seatbelt, deciding to ignore the brothers’ antics. They tried to bring me into the conversation, but I paid no attention to them, burying my nose in a book instead.

  They talked the entire way, and I was fascinated by their conversation. I’d never heard them speak to one another so … civilly before. Ren told Kishan about the first time we’d visited Phet and politely asked me to fill in the blanks. He remembered a lot of it. He just somehow forgot anything that applied to me.

  I spoke of the amulet around my neck, the henna hand tattoo that Phet had given me, and of how we figured out it gave me the power to access the mythical cities. Ren didn’t remember that at all and had no idea how he got into places with me out of the picture. He just drew a blank.

  By the time we arrived at the Yawal Sanctuary, Ren was pretty desperate to get out of the car and away from me. He took off on foot, walking through the trees.

  Kishan watched him go and reached around me to grab the big backpack with all the weapons. He slid it over his shoulders before he locked the Jeep.

  “Shall we?”

  “Sure.” I sighed. “He’s pretty far ahead now, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Not too far though. I can easily follow his trail.”

  We walked silently for a few minutes. Teak trees loomed over us, which was nice, because they provided shade from the hot sun.

  “We’ll hike to Suki Lake and then have lunch and rest during the hottest part of the day.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I listened to the crunch of my steps as I walked over the bracken covering the jungle floor. Kishan was a silent, steady presence beside me.

  “I miss this,” he said.

  “Miss what?”

  “Hiking through the jungle with you. It’s peaceful.”

  “Yeah, when we’re not running from things.”

  “It’s nice. I miss being alone with you.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but even now, we’re not alone.”

  “No. I know that. Still, it’s more alone than I’ve been with you in weeks.” He cleared his throat. “I heard you the other night when Ren came to your room.”

  “Oh. Then you know he gets sick around me. He can’t touch me.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it causes you pain.”

  “More like it causes him pain.”

  “No. He’s only hurting physically. You’re hurting emotionally. It’s difficult to go through that. I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

  “I know you are.”

  Kishan reached over and took my hand as I looked up into his golden eyes and asked, “What’s that for?”

  “I wanted to hold your hand. Not everybody cringes in pain when touching you, you know.”

  “Thanks.”

  He smiled and pressed a kiss on the back of my hand. We walked another couple of hours in silence, holding hands the entire time. I reflected again on the differences between Kishan and Ren. Ren was always talking or writing. He liked to think out loud. He said that not communicating was the most frustrating thing about being a tiger.

  In Oregon, Ren would bombard me with questions every morning. He’d answer questions I’d long forgotten and talk about things he’d been thinking about all afternoon as a tiger and couldn’t tell me.

  Kishan was the opposite. He was still, silent. He liked to just be, just feel, just experience the things around him. When he drank a root beer float, he delighted in the experience and gave 100 percent of his attention to it. He soaked in his environment, and was happy keeping to himself.

  I was comfortable with both men. I could appreciate the quiet and the nature more with Kishan. But with Ren near, I was so busy talking with him and, I’ll admit, staring at him that everything else diminished.

  As Suki Lake came into view, we found Ren standing at the water’s edge skipping pebbles across the surface. He turned to us with a smile and saw our clasped hands. His grin faltered briefly, but then he teased me and smiled again. “It’s about time you two caught up. You’re slower than honey in the refrigerator. I’m starving. What’s for lunch?”

  I shrugged off my backpack. My shirt was stuck to my skin. I peeled it away and crouched down to unzip the pack. “What would you like?”

  Ren crouched down next to me. “I don’t care. Surprise me.”

  “I thought you didn’t like my cooking.”

  “Nah. I like it fine. I just didn’t like all of you staring at me while I ate, expecting each bite to jar a memory. In fact, I wouldn’t mind some of those chocolate-peanut butter cookies.”

  “Okay. Kishan? How about you?” I shaded my eyes and looked up at him. He was watching Ren.

  “Just make me the same thing you make him.”

  The brothers went off to throw pebbles across the lake and I could hear them laughing as they competed with each other. I asked the Golden Fruit to create a picnic basket for us filled with lemonade; fresh hot biscuits with butter and an assortment of jams and marmalades; a cold pasta salad with olives, tomatoes, carrots, and a lemon vinaigrette; a giant box of tangy Hawaiian BBQ chicken; and my chocolate-peanut butter cookies.

  I used the Divine Scarf to create a red-and-white-checked blanket and spread it under a tree. Our picnic was ready.

  “Lunch is served!” I shouted.

  The brothers wasted no time. Kishan reached for the chicken, and Ren, the cookies. I smacked their hands away and handed each one a bacterial wipe.

  Kishan grumbled, “Kells, I ate my food raw off the ground for three hundred years. I really don’t think a little dirt’s going to kill me.”

  “Maybe not, but clean hands make me feel better.”

  I handed them the giant box of chicken and took a
biscuit out of the basket, buttered it, and spread marionberry preserves over it. Leaning back against the tree, I watched the dappled sunshine through the leaves as I slowly ate my biscuit.

  “How far to Phet’s? It only took Ren and me a day or so to hike out there last time.”

  “We’ll have to sleep in the jungle tonight,” Kishan answered. “We’re on the far side of Suki Lake.”

  “Oh. Hey! Save some chicken for me!” I cried as the box was quickly emptying. “How can you two wolf down that much chicken in just a couple of minutes?”

  “Serves you right for staring into space,” Ren said.

  “I wasn’t staring into space. I was appreciating the environment.”

  “I noticed. Gave me a good opportunity to ‘appreciate the environment’ myself,” he smirked, teasing me.

  I kicked his foot. “You should have at least saved me something.”

  Ren grinned and handed me one of the last drumsticks. “What did you expect? Two or three tiny chickens to feed two hungry tigers? We need something at least the size of … what would you say, Kishan?”

  “I’d say something the size of a small buffalo.”

  “A small buffalo would be good or maybe a goat or two. Did you ever eat a horse?” Ren asked.

  “Nah, too stringy.”

  “What about a jackal?”

  “Nope. Killed several though. They liked to hang around and wait for me to be done with my kill.”

  “Boar?”

  “At least one a month.”

  “What about a … are you okay, Kelsey?”

  “Can we change the topic of conversation?” The chicken leg drooped in my fingers. I stared at it and imagined the animal it used to be. “I don’t think I can eat this anymore. In fact, no more talk about your kills at the dinner table. It’s bad enough I had to see you two hunt.”

  Ren chewed and teased, “Now that I think about it, you’re just about snack-size. Don’t you think so, Kishan?”

  Kishan studied me with a teasing glint in his eye. “I’ve often thought Kelsey would be fun to hunt.”

  I glared at Kishan. He bit into a biscuit and winked.

  Ren pulled his knees up to his chest and laughed. “What do you say, Kelsey? Want to play hide-and-seek with the tigers?”