20
The Tests of the Four Houses
Fanindra’s emerald eyes began to glow and provided enough light that Kishan could retrieve our flashlight. Five feet beyond us was another tree trunk that appeared as solid as the one outside—a trunk within a trunk. Between the two trunks was a spiral stairway. He took my hand again before we started our climb. The stairs were wide enough that we could walk side by side and deep enough that we could stop and rest or even sleep if we needed to.
We ascended at a slow pace and rested frequently. It was hard to tell how high we’d climbed. After several hours, we came upon a door of sorts. It was yellow-orange and bumpy. A rough, woody stem was at the exact place where a knob should have been. I strung my bow and nocked an arrow while Kishan readied his chakram. He stood to the side, took the handle, and pushed the door slowly inward while I slid in my foot and scanned for attackers. No one was in sight.
The room was full of shelves that had been carved into the walls of the tree. Covering the shelves and the floors were hundreds of gourds of all shapes and sizes. Some were solid; some were hollowed out. Many of them had beautiful, elaborate designs and were lit from within by flickering candles.
Some pumpkins were depicted with carvings far beyond anything I’d ever seen on Halloween. We walked past shelf after shelf, admiring the designs. Some were painted and oiled until they shone like carved gems. Kishan reached out to touch one.
“Wait! Don’t touch anything yet. This is one of the tests. We need to figure out what to do. Hold on for a second while I look at Mr. Kadam’s notes.”
Mr. Kadam had provided three pages of information on gourds. Kishan and I sat on the polished wood floor and read through them.
“I don’t think they have anything to do with the American slave song ‘Follow the Drinkin’ Gourd.’ I can’t see how that could apply. It refers to the stars, the Big Dipper specifically, which guided American slaves to freedom as they journeyed on the Underground Railroad.”
I flipped a page. “Here’s a lot of stuff about where certain gourds originated and facts about how sailors sought seeds of certain types to grow them. There’s a myth about gourd boats. I don’t think that’s it either.”
Kishan laughed. “How about this one? The one about gourds and fertility? Want to give it a try, Kells? I’m willing to make the sacrifice if you are.”
I skimmed through the myth and narrowed my eyes at him while he laughed. “Ha! In your dreams maybe. Definitely skipping that one.” I turned to another page. “This one says to throw a gourd onto water to call up sea monsters and sea serpents. Huh, not really needing one of those.”
“What about this Chinese myth? It says that a young boy coming of age must choose the gourd that would guide his life. Each one contained something different. Some were dangerous; some not. One even had the elixir of eternal youth. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Perhaps we should just pick one.”
“I think picking one is probably the right thing to do, but how do we know which one?”
“Not sure. I guess we just need to try. I’ll go first. Keep your hand aimed at whatever comes out.”
Kishan picked up a plain bell-shaped gourd. Nothing happened. He shook it, threw it in the air, and thumped it against the wall . . . still nothing.
“I’m going to try breaking it.” He smashed it on the ground, and a pear rolled out.
He snatched up the fruit and took a bite before I could warn him there might be something wrong with it. When he finally paid attention to me, the fruit was almost gone. He dismissed my warning and said it tasted fine. The broken gourd dissolved and melted into the floor.
“Okay, my turn.” I picked up a round gourd painted with flowers, raised it above my head, and smashed it to the floor. A black, hissing snake emerged from the broken pieces. It coiled to strike and spat at my leg. Before I could raise my hand, I heard a metallic whirring. Kishan’s chakram sank into the wooden floor at my feet, severing the snake’s head. The serpent’s body and the broken gourd melted into the floor.
“Umm, your turn. Maybe it’s a good idea to go with plain gourds.”
He chose a bottle-shaped gourd, which produced something that looked like milk. I cautioned him not to drink it because it might not be what it seemed. He agreed, but we found that if we didn’t drink it, the next gourd wouldn’t break, and the broken one with the milk inside wouldn’t dissolve. He gulped down the milk and we went on.
I chose a huge white gourd and got moonlight.
A small warty gourd produced sand.
A tall thin one made beautiful music.
A thick, gray gourd that looked like a bottle-nosed dolphin splashed seawater on Kishan’s leg.
My next choice was a spoon-shaped one. When I broke it, a black mist emerged and headed for me. I darted away, but it followed and moved toward my mouth and nose. There was nothing Kishan could do. I breathed it in and began coughing. My vision blurred. I felt dizzy and staggered. Kishan caught me.
“Kelsey! You’re turning pale! How do you feel?”
“Not good. I think that one was disease.”
“Here. Lie down and rest. Maybe I can find a cure.”
He began frantically breaking gourds while I watched. I shivered and started to sweat, a scorpion came out of the next one and he stomped on it with his boot. He found a gourd with wind, one with a fish, and one that contained a small star that glowed so brightly we had to close our eyes until the light diminished and it sunk into the floor.
Every time he found a liquid, he rushed it over to me and made me drink. I drank some fruit nectar, regular water, and some kind of bitter dark chocolate. I refused to drink one that smelled like rubbing alcohol but I dabbed it on my skin so the gourd would disappear.
The next three contained clouds, a giant tarantula, which he kicked into the corner of the room, and a ruby, which he pocketed. My vision was going black at this point, and Kishan was getting desperate. The next gourd he chose had some kind of pill. We debated if I should take it or not. I was really dizzy and weak, feverish and sweaty. Breathing was hard, and my heart was racing. I panicked, feeling sure that if we couldn’t find something soon, I’d die. I chewed the pill and swallowed. It tasted like a kid’s vitamin, and it didn’t make me feel better.
Two more gourds contained cheese and a ring. He ate the cheese and slipped the ring on his finger. The next one had a white liquid. He was nervous. It could be a poison that killed me outright or it could be my cure or it could be the elixir of eternal youth for all we knew. I waved him over.
“I’ll drink it. Help me.”
He lifted my head and tilted the gourd, its contents spilling between my dry, cracked lips. The liquid trickled down my throat as I swallowed weakly. Immediately, I began to feel strength return to my limbs.
“More.”
He held the gourd steady as I drank. It tasted delicious and gave me enough strength to take the gourd from him. Wrapping both hands around the bowl shape, I gulped down the rest in two big swallows. I felt stronger than I had before we’d come into the room.
“You look much better, Kells. How do you feel?”
I stood up. “I feel good! Strong. Invincible, even.”
He let out a shaky breath. “Good.”
I looked around with clear sight. Almost better than clear. “Hey. What’s that?”
I pushed a few gourds out of the way and grabbed the handle of a large round gourd with a long top stem. “It has a tiger carved on the outside. Try this one, Kishan.”
He took it from my hands and smashed it on the floor. Inside was a folded paper.
“It’s like a fortune cookie! What does it say?”
“It says—The hidden vessel shows the way.”
“The hidden vessel? Maybe it means a hidden gourd.”
“Pretty easy to hide a gourd in a room full of gourds, Kells.”
“Yeah. Let’s look for out-of-the-way gourds that are in the back of the room or tucked in corners.”
We collected a group of smaller-sized gourds. Kishan had about ten, and I had four. He opened his group first, which contained rice, a butterfly, a hot pepper, snow, a feather, a lily, a cotton ball, a mouse, another snake, which he got rid of—it could have been harmless, but better to be safe than sorry—and an earthworm.
Disappointed, we turned to my group. The first had thread, the second contained drum sounds, the third held a vanilla scent, and the fourth, shaped like a small apple, had nothing. We waited for a minute and started to get nervous thinking one of us was going to get sick again. The broken gourd disappeared like the others, so something had happened.
“Is that it? Do you see anything?”
“No. Wait. I hear something.”
After a minute, I said, “Well? What is it?”
“There’s something different about the room, but I can’t tell what. Wait. The air! It’s moving. Can you sense it?”
“No.”
“Give me a minute.”
Kishan crept around the room examining shelves, walls, and gourds. He placed his hand on one of the walls and leaned in closer, bumping gourds that rolled and shifted.
“There’s air coming through here. I think it’s a door. Help me move these gourds.”
We cleared the entire section of wall, which left only bare shelves.
“I can’t move this one. It’s stuck.”
It was a tiny gourd that seemed to be growing out of the wall. I pulled and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge. Kishan stepped back to get a better look and started laughing. I was still yanking on the small gourd.
“What is it? Why are you laughing?”
“Stand back a second, Kells.”
I moved out of the way, and he placed his hand on the gourd.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove. It won’t move.”
Kishan twisted and pushed. “It’s a knob, Kelsey.” He laughed and pushed open the section of wall that was now obviously a door. On the other side, we found more steps that led higher into the tree.
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
“You know, I’m never going to look at pumpkin pie the same way again.”
His laughter echoed through the tree trunk.
After a few hours of climbing, Kishan called a halt. “Let’s stop and eat something, Kells. I can’t keep up with you. I wonder how long your special energy drink is going to last.”
I stopped about ten steps ahead of him and waited for him to catch up. “Now you know how I feel trying to keep pace with you tigers all the time.”
He grunted and slung the backpack off his shoulders. We made ourselves comfortable on a large step. He unzipped the bag, took out the Golden Fruit, and rolled it between his palms. After thinking for a moment, he grinned and spoke in his native language. A large plate shimmered and solidified. The steam coming from the vegetables smelled familiar.
I wrinkled my nose. “Curry? Ugh. My turn.”
I wished for scalloped potatoes, cherry glazed ham, green beans almondine, and rolls with honey butter. When my dinner appeared, Kishan eyed my plate.
“How about we share?”
“No thanks. Not a curry fan.”
He finished off his meal quickly and kept trying to get me to look at imaginary monsters so he could steal bites from my plate. I ended up just giving him half.
Another hour of stairs and my power juice wore off. I felt drained. Kishan let me rest while he looked for the next house. When he returned, I was writing in my journal.
“I found the next doorway, Kells. Come on. It might be better to rest there.”
The dusty circular steps inside the trunk of the world tree led us to a cottage overgrown with thick ivy and flowers. Tinkling laughter could be heard inside.
I whispered, “There are people in there. Let’s be careful.”
He nodded and untied the chakram from his belt while I nocked an arrow.
“Ready?”
“Ready,” I whispered.
He carefully opened the door, and we were greeted by the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. They ignored our weapons and bid us welcome to their home.
A gorgeous woman with thick waves of long brown hair, green eyes, downy soft, ivory skin, and cherry lips dressed in a shimmering, blush-colored gown took Kishan’s arm.
“You poor things. You must be tired after your trip. Come inside. You can bathe and rest from your travels.”
“A bath sounds great to me,” said an entranced Kishan.
She paid absolutely no attention to me. Her eyes were locked on Kishan. She stroked his arm and murmured to him of soft pillows, hot water, and refreshments. Another woman joined the first one. She was blonde and blue-eyed and wore a gown of sparkling silver.
“Yes, come,” she said. “You will find comfort here. Please follow us.”
They’d started to lead Kishan away when I protested. Kishan turned and a man approached. Six feet of tanned, muscular, bare chest, blue-eyed, blond male turned all of his attention to me.
“Hello, welcome to our humble home. My sisters and I rarely have any visitors. We would love for you stay with us for a while.” He smiled at me, and I blushed furiously.
I stammered, “Umm, that’s very generous of you.”
Kishan frowned at the guy, but the girls turned their long-lashed fluttery charm on and distracted him again.
“Uh, Kishan, I don’t think—”
Another man came out from behind a curtain. This one was even better looking than the first. He was dark-haired with dark eyes, and his mouth riveted my attention. He pouted and said, “Are you sure you can’t stay with us? Just for a while. We’d love to have some company.” He sighed dramatically. “The only thing we have to keep us occupied is our book collection.”
“You have a book collection?”
“Yes.” He smiled and offered me his arm. “Will you allow me to show it to you?”
Kishan had left with the women, and I decided to check out the book collection. I rationalized that I could always blast the guys with lightning if they tried something.
They did indeed have a book collection and happened to have many of the books that I loved. In fact, on closer inspection, I found I knew every title. They offered me refreshments.
“Here, taste one of these tarts. They are amazing. Our sisters are excellent cooks.”
“Oh. Umm, no thanks. Kishan and I just ate.”
“Ah then, perhaps you would like to freshen up?”
“You have a bathroom?”
“We do. It’s behind the curtain over there. There’s also a shower. Pull on the long vine, and water will rain down from the leaves of the tree. We will arrange some refreshment and a comfortable place for you to rest.”
“Thank you.”
We were obviously in the House of Sirens. Their bathroom was real, thankfully, and I took the opportunity to shower and change clothes. When I emerged, I found a long golden gown had been left hanging for me. It was similar to the gowns the two women had been wearing. My original clothes were still torn and bloody, so I put on the golden dress and hung out my fairy clothes to see if the fairies would still clean them in the world tree.
Quietly, I read through Mr. Kadam’s notes on sirens. I skimmed through the sirens of the Odyssey and the story of Jason and the Argonauts. I already knew those tales, but he had also included information on sea nymphs, mermaids, and mermen, who were sometimes called sirens as well.
These people were probably more tree nymphs than water nymphs. They retained beauty until they died. They could ride through the air. Slip through small holes. Hmm, that’s a new one. Extremely long life . . . sometimes invisible . . . special times are noon and midnight. Midnight should be soon. They could be dangerous, cause madness, a stroke, dumbness, and besotted infatuation.
A soft knock startled me from my study. “Yes?”
“Are you ready to come out, Miss?”
“Almost.”
I quickly glanced through the rest of my notes and slipped the papers into my backpack. The two men were standing directly outside the door, staring at me like a pair of snakes watching a bird’s nest.
“Umm, excuse me.”
I slipped between them, walked to the other side of the room, and sat on what looked like a giant bean bag sofa covered in soft fur. The men sat on either side of me.
One of them nudged my shoulder. “You’re too stiff. Lie back and relax. The seat molds itself to your body.”
They wouldn’t take no for an answer. The dark haired man pushed me back gently, but insistently.
“Yes, it is comfortable. Thank you. Umm, where’s Kishan?”
“Who’s Kishan?”
“The man I came here with.”
“I didn’t notice a man.”
“It was impossible to notice anything after you stepped into the room,” the other man said.
“Yes. I agree. You’re quite lovely,” said his brother.
One of the men began stroking my arm while the other started massaging my shoulders.
They indicated a table in front of us laden with treats.
“Would you like to try some candied fruit? It’s delicious.”
“No. Thank you. I’m not hungry quite yet.”
The man massaging my shoulders began kissing the back of my neck. “You have the most delicate skin.”
I tried to sit up, but he pressed me back in the chair. “Relax. We’re here to please you.”
The other one handed me a fluted glass with bubbling red liquid. “Sparkling elderberry juice?”
He picked up my other hand and began kissing my fingers. A foggy dimness clouded my vision. I closed my eyes for a moment, and my senses focused on lips kissing my throat and warm hands massaging my shoulders. Pleasure wound through my body, and I greedily wanted more. One of the men kissed my lips. It didn’t feel right. Something was wrong.
I murmured, “No,” weakly and tried to shake the men off, but they wouldn’t leave me alone. Something tickled the back of my mind. Something I was trying to grab onto. Something that would help me focus. The massage on my shoulders felt so good. He moved to my neck and moved his thumb in little circles. That’s when the something I was trying to remember snapped into my conscious mind.
Ren. He’d massaged my neck like that. I pictured his face. It was out of focus at first, but I started to list the things I loved about him in my mind and the picture became clearer. I thought about his hair, his eyes, how he held my hand all the time. I thought about him laying his head on my lap while I read to him, how he got jealous, his love for peanut-butter pancakes, and about how he chose the peaches-and-cream ice cream because it reminded him of me. In my mind, I heard him say, “Mein tumse mohabbat karta hoon, iadala.”
I whispered, “Mujhe tumse pyarhai, Ren.”
Something popped, and I abruptly sat up. The men pouted as they tried to pull me back. They began singing softly. My vision started to shift out of focus again, so I hummed the song Ren wrote for me and recited one of his poems. I stood up. The men were now insisting that I eat something again or sip some juice. I refused. They tugged me over to a soft bed. I stood my ground while they pulled and begged and cajoled. They complimented my hair, my eyes, and my beautiful dress and cried that I’d been their only visitor in millennia and that they just wanted to spend some time in my company.
Refusing again, I insisted that we needed to be on our way. They persisted, took my hand, and pulled me toward the bed. I twisted away and grabbed my bow. Quickly, I strung it and nocked an arrow, then aimed at whichever male chest was closest, threatening them. The two men backed away and one raised his hand in a gesture of defeat. They silently communicated, and then shook their heads sadly.
“We would have made you happy. You would have forgotten all of your troubles. We would have loved you.”
I shook my head. “I love another.”
“You would have treasured us over time. We have the ability to take away all thoughts and replace them with only feelings of passion and pleasure.”
I replied sarcastically, “I’ll bet.”
“We are lonely. Our last companion died several centuries ago. We loved her.”
The other one interjected, “Yes, we loved her so. She never knew sorrow for even a day in her life with us.”
“But we are immortal and her life was over too quickly.”
“Yes. We must find a replacement.”
“Well, sorry, boys, but I don’t want that. I have no interest in being your,” I swallowed, “love slave. And besides, I don’t want to forget everything or everyone.”
They studied me for a long moment. “So be it. You are free to go.”
“What about Kishan?”
“He must make his own choice.”
With that, they spun into a thin wisp of smoke, entered a knot on the wall of the tree, and disappeared. I went back into the bathroom to retrieve my fairy clothes and was delighted to see that they had been cleaned and repaired.
Picking up the bag, I stepped back into the room. Instead of a seductive boudoir, it was now a simple, empty room with a door. I opened it, left the house, and ended up back on the circular stairway that wound around inside the trunk of the world tree. The doorway closed behind me. I was alone on the stairs.
I changed back into the pants and shirt the fairies had woven for us and wondered when or if Kishan would exit. That soft bed would have made a much better place to sleep than the hard wooden steps. Then again, if I had stayed in that bed, I don’t think I would’ve been getting a lot of sleep.
I mentally thanked Ren for saving me from the tree nymphs or man sirens or whatever they were. Completely exhausted, I curled up in the sleeping bag and fell asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, Kishan nudged my shoulder.
“Hey.”
I leaned up on an elbow and yawned, “Kishan? Took you long enough.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t exactly easy to shake off those women.”
“I know what you mean. I had to threaten to shoot those guys to make them leave me alone. In fact, I’m surprised you got out as quickly as you did. How did you purge their influence from your mind?”
“Talk to you about it later. I’m tired, Kells.”
“Okay. Here, take my quilt. I would offer to share the sleeping bag, but I’ve had enough of men for the moment.”
“I understand completely. Thanks. Goodnight, Kells.”
—
After we woke, ate, and packed, we continued up the steps of the world tree. Bright light shone ahead. A hole in the trunk opened, and we stepped through to the outside. I appreciated the sunshine, but the steps were no longer enclosed. I hugged the trunk, refusing to look down.
Kishan, on the other hand, was fascinated by how high we were. He couldn’t see the bottom despite his super tiger vision. Giant branches extended out from the tree. They were so large we could have walked across one together side by side without any danger of falling off. Kishan ran along a couple of them from time to time to explore. I stayed as close to the trunk as possible.
After several hours at our slow pace, I stopped in front of a dark hole that led back inside the trunk. I waited for Kishan to return from his latest exploration, so we could enter the hole together. This part of the trunk was darker and moist. Water trickled down the inside, dripping and plopping from somewhere above. The walls changed from smooth to splintered and peeling. Our voices echoed. There seemed to be a large gap in the tree, like it had been hollowed out.
I said, “This part of the tree feels dead, as if it’s been damaged.”
“Yes. The wood under our feet is rotting. Stay as close to the trunk wall as you can.”
Another few minutes passed, and the stairs stopped below a black hole just big enough to crawl through.
“There’s nowhere else to go. Should we climb in?”
“It’s going to be a tight fit.”
“Then let me go first and look around,” I volunteered. “If it’s blocked ahead, there’s no need for you to climb through. I’ll just back out, and we’ll figure out another way to the top.”
He agreed and traded the flashlight for the backpack. Kishan boosted me up, and I wiggled into the hole and crawled through on my hands and knees until the passage started to narrow and become taller. At that point, the only way to proceed was to stand, turn to the side, and shimmy forward. Then the passageway lowered, and again I sunk to my knees.
The passageway felt like petrified rock. A big chunk hung down, blocking the top half of the passage. I squirmed on my stomach, wiggled under it, and found that the passage opened into a large cavern. It felt like I’d traveled a hundred feet, but it was probably more like twenty-five. I thought Kishan would fit but just barely.
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 injure 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.
I put my hand on his and shook my head slightly. “Let’s wait and see what they do.”
“What do you want from us?” I asked.
The birds landed a few feet away. One twisted its head and stared at me with one black eye. A black tongue tasted the air from the beak’s rictus as the bird moved closer.
I heard a rough, scratchy voice say, “Wantfrumus?”
“Do you understand me?”
The two birds bobbed their heads up and down, stopping occasionally to preen feathers.
“What are we doing here? Who are you?”
The birds hopped a little closer. One said, “Hughhn,” and I could have sworn the other said, “Muunann.”
I marveled incredulously, “You’re Hugin and Munin?”
The black heads bobbed up and down again. They hopped a little closer.
“Did you steal my bracelet?”
“And the amulet?” Kishan added.
Heads bobbed.
“Well, we want everything back. You can keep the honey cakes. You probably already ate them, anyway.”
The birds squawked hoarsely, snapped their beaks loudly, and flapped their wings at us. Ruffled feathers puffed up, making the birds look much bigger than they were.
I folded my arms across my chest.
“Not going to give them back, huh? We’ll see about that.”
The birds hesitantly danced closer, and one hopped onto my knee. Kishan was immediately concerned.
I touched his arm. “If they are Hugin and Munin, they whisper thoughts and memories into Odin’s ears. They may want to sit on our shoulders and speak to us.”
It appeared I was right, because the minute I tilted my head to one side, one of the birds flapped its wings and settled on my shoulder. It stuck its beak near my ear, and I waited to hear it speak. Instead, I felt a curious pulling sensation. The bird tugged gently on something in my ear, but I felt no pain.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Thoughtsrstuck.”
“What?”
“Thoughtsrstuck.”
I felt another gentle tug, a snap, and then Hugin hopped away with a filmy, web-like strand hanging from his beak.
I covered my ear with my hand. “What did you do? Did you steal part of my brain? Do I have brain damage?”
“Thoughtsrstuck!”
“What does that mean?”
The strand hanging from the beak slowly dissipated as the bird clacked its beak. I sat there, staring, mouth gaping wide in horror, and wondered what had been done to me. Did it steal a memory? I racked my brain trying to remember everything important. I searched for some gap, some emptiness. If the bird did steal a memory, I had no idea what it could be.
Kishan touched my hand. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“I feel fine. It’s just—” My words fell away as something shifted in my mind. Something was happening. Something was dragging across the surface of my mind like a squeegee over soapy glass. I could feel a layer of confusion, mental clutter, and dirt, for lack of a better word, peeling away like dead skin after a sunburn. It was as if random fears, worries, and dismal thoughts had been clogging the pores of my consciousness.
For a moment, I could see everything I needed to do with perfect clarity. I knew we were almost at our goal. I knew there would be fierce protectors guarding the Scarf. I knew what the Scarf was and I knew what it could do. In that moment, I knew how we’d use it to save Ren.
Munin hopped back and forth in front of Kishan, waiting for its turn.
“It’s okay, Kishan! Go ahead. Let it sit on your shoulder. It won’t hurt you. Trust me.”
He looked at me doubtfully, but he cocked his head to one side anyway. I watched with fascination as Munin flapped its wings and landed on Kishan’s shoulder. He kept its wings open, flapping them up and down lazily as it worked on Kishan’s ear.
I spoke to Hugin, “Is Munin doing the same thing to Kishan?”
The bird shook its head and shifted from foot to foot. It started preening its feathers.
“Well, what’s the difference? What will it do?”
“Waitforit.”
“Waitforit?”
The bird nodded.
Munin hopped down to the floor and held a wispy black strand in his mouth about the size of an earthworm. It opened its beak and swallowed it.
“Uh . . . that looked different. Kishan? What happened? Are you okay?”
He responded quietly, “I’m fine. He . . . he showed me.”
“Showed you what?”
“He showed me my memories. In full detail. I saw everything that happened. I saw Yesubai and me all over again. I saw my parents, Kadam, Ren . . . all of it. But with one major difference.”
I took his hand in mine. “What is it? What’s the difference?”
“That black thread you saw—it’s hard to explain, but it’s like the bird removed a dark pair of sunglasses from my eyes. I saw everything as it really was, as it really happened. It wasn’t just from my perception anymore. It was like I was an outside observer.”
“Is the memory different now?”
“It’s not different . . . it’s clearer. I could see that Yesubai was a sweet girl who cared for me, but she was encouraged to seek me out. She didn’t love me the same way I felt for her. She was afraid of her father. She obeyed him completely, but she was also desperate to leave him. In the end, it was her father who killed her. He threw her viciously—hard enough to cause her neck to break.
“How did I overlook her fear, her anxiety?” He rubbed his jaw. “She hid it well. He took advantage of my feelings for her. I should have seen what he was all along, but I was blind, infatuated. How could I not see this before?”
“Love makes you do crazy things sometimes.”
“What about you? What did you see?”
“I sort of got my brain Hoovered.”
“What does ‘Hoovered’ mean?”
“A Hoover is a vacuum. My thoughts are clear, like your memories are clear. In fact, I now know how to get the Scarf and what comes next. But first things first.”
I jumped up and lifted the nest tucked into the corner of the tree house. The two birds hopped up and down, squawking in irritation. They flew over to me and flapped their wings in my face.
“I’m sorry, but it’s your own fault, you know. You’re the ones who cleared my mind. Besides, these belong to us. We need them.”
I took the camera, my bracelet, and the amulet out of the nest. Kishan helped me attach the bracelet and the amulet chain and tucked the camera in the bag. The birds looked at me sulkily.
“Maybe we can give you something else instead as compensation for losing your prizes,” I said.
Kishan hunted up a fishhook, a Glowstick, and a compass and placed them in the nest. After I put the nest back, the birds flew up to inspect their new treasures.
“Thank you both! Come on, Kishan. Follow me.”