24
Confessions
I was so happy to be back home I could’ve cried. Kishan carried our bags inside and quickly disappeared. Mr. Kadam also excused himself to check with some of his contacts. Left alone, I decided to take a long, hot shower and do some laundry.
Dressed in pajamas and slippers, I padded into the laundry room and threw in a load. I wasn’t sure what to do with the fairy clothes. I decided to hang them on the veranda overnight, just to see if there were any fairies in the real world. Then I walked through the house to find out what everyone else was doing.
Mr. Kadam was in the library on the phone. I heard only half of the conversation. He glanced at me and pulled out a chair so I could sit beside him.
“Yes. Of course. Contact me as soon as possible. That is correct. Send in as many as necessary. We’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone and turned to me.
Playing with my wet hair, I asked, “Who was that?”
“A man of my employ who has many remarkable talents. One of which is infiltrating large organizations.”
“What’s he going to do for us?”
“He will begin investigating who works in the penthouse office in the tallest building of Mumbai.”
“You aren’t planning on going there yourself, are you? Lokesh would capture you too!”
“No. Lokesh gave away more about himself than he learned of us. Did you notice his suit?”
“His suit? It looked like a regular suit to me.”
“It isn’t. His suits are custom made in India. Only two businesses in the entire country specialize in expensive suits such as that one. I’ve sent my men to hunt down an address.”
I shook my head and grinned. “Mr. Kadam, did anyone ever tell you that you are extremely observant?”
He smiled. “Perhaps once or twice.”
“Well, I’m very glad that you’re on our side. I’m impressed! I didn’t even think to look at his clothes. What about the servant?”
“I have a few ideas about where he might have come from. Based on the beads, the hair, and the tattoo, I should be able to narrow it down by tomorrow. Why don’t you have a snack and head to bed?”
“I took a long nap in the car, but a snack sounds good. Will you join me?”
“I believe I might.”
I stood quickly. “Oh! I almost forgot! I brought something for you!”
I found my backpack at the foot of the stairs and also retrieved a couple of glasses and two small plates from the kitchen. I set out the plate and glass in front of Mr. Kadam and unzipped the backpack.
“I don’t know if the pastry is still edible, but the nectar should be.”
He leaned forward, curious.
Opening the Silvanae’s delicious packages, I placed several dainty delicacies on his plate. Sadly, the small pack of sugar-dusted lace cookies had become a pack of crumbs. But, the other items still looked as fresh and delectable as they had been in Shangri-la.
Mr. Kadam appraised the tiny appetizers from several angles, marveling at the artistry involved. Then he carefully tasted a mushroom galette and a tiny raspberry tart as I explained that the Silvanae were vegetarians who loved sugary things. I popped the stopper of a tall gourd and poured sweet, golden nectar into his cup. Kishan walked in and pulled up a chair next to me.
“Hey! Why wasn’t I invited to the Silvanae tea party?” he teased.
I slid my plate to Kishan and went to get another glass. We laughed and enjoyed a peaceful respite as we savored pumpkin rolls with walnut butter and mini apple, cheese, and onion stuffed pies. We drained every drop of the nectar and were thrilled to see that the Golden Fruit could produce more.
The only thing that could have made this moment better would have been to share it with Ren. I promised myself that I would write down each delicious food we’d eaten in Shangri-la so I could taste them all again with Ren by using the Golden Fruit after he was rescued.
We stayed awake until late that night. Kishan changed into a tiger and slept at my feet as Mr. Kadam and I read books on the rural tribes of India. At about 3:00 a.m., I turned a page in the fifth book I’d picked up and found a picture of a woman with tattooing across her forehead.
“Mr. Kadam, come look at this.”
He sat on the leather chair next to me. I handed him the book, so he could study the woman.
“Yes. This is one of the groups I thought of. They’re called the Baiga.”
“What do you know about them? Where are they?”
“They are a mostly nomadic indigenous tribe who avoid association outside of their communities. They hunt and gather food, preferring not to till the ground. They believe farming harms Mother Earth. There are two groups of them that I know of: one in Madhya Pradesh in central India and one in Jharkhand, which is in eastern India. I believe I have a book that has more details of their culture.”
He scanned through several shelves until he found the right text. He sat next to me and opened the book.
“It’s about the Adivasis. There should be more about the Baiga in here.”
I leaned down to scratch Kishan’s ear. “What are the Adivasis?”
“It’s a term that classifies all of the native tribes together, but it doesn’t differentiate among them. Several cultures fall under the heading Adivasis. Here, we have the Irulas, Oraon, Santals, and,” he flipped another page, “the Baiga.”
He found the section he was looking for and ran his finger down the page as he read important parts in a verbal shorthand.
“They practice bewar cultivation. Slash and burn agriculture. Famous for tattooing. Depend on jungle for sustenance. Employ ancient medicines and magic. Bamboo handicrafts. Aha! Here is exactly what we’re looking for, Miss Kelsey. Baiga men grow their hair long and wear it in a jura or bun. The man holding Ren fits that description. Though the confusing thing is, a Baiga leaving his tribe to serve someone like Lokesh would almost never happen.”
“Even if he paid the man well?”
“It wouldn’t matter. Their lifestyle is centered around their tribe. There would be no reason for him to leave his people. It’s not within their cultural norm. They are a simple, straightforward people. A person of the Baiga would be unlikely to join the ranks of Lokesh. Still, this warrants investigation. I will begin my study of the Baiga tribes tomorrow. For now, it’s time to rest, Miss Kelsey. I insist. It’s very late, and we both need fresh minds.”
I nodded and replaced the books I’d taken from his library shelves. He squeezed my shoulder.
“Don’t fret. All things will work out in the end. I feel it. We’ve made great progress. Kahlil Gibran said, ‘The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.’ I know that you’ve had many great sorrows, but I also feel that your life will hold many great joys, Miss Kelsey.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” I hugged him and whispered against his shirt, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You get some sleep too.”
We said goodnight, and Mr. Kadam disappeared into his room while I climbed the stairs. Kishan padded along behind me and followed me into my room. He stood at the glass door to the veranda, waiting for me to let him out. When I slid open the door, I knelt beside him and patted him on his back.
“Thanks for keeping me company.”
He hopped up on the swinging love seat and promptly fell asleep. I climbed into bed and hugged my stuffed white tiger tightly, hoping to fill the empty space inside my chest with thoughts of Ren.
I woke around 11:00 a.m. Mr. Kadam was on the phone and hung up as soon as I sat across from him.
“I think we’ve had a lucky break, Miss Kelsey. In my investigation of the Baiga, I’ve found nothing out of the ordinary regarding the tribe located in Madhya Pradesh. The tribe in eastern India, however, seems to be missing.”
“What do you mean missing?”
“There are usually small villages near the Baiga tribes who deal with them from time to time. Such meetings are often due to controversies over deforestation or other various disputes. This tribe appears to have relocated recently and hasn’t been found. They are nomadic and do move around, but this is the longest they have gone without contacting the locals.
“The Baiga are limited by law now and cannot move about as freely as they did in the past. I will do some more research today. I also have some connections than can take satellite photos of the area and find the tribe at its current location.
“If it warrants more attention, I will inform you and Kishan. You two have had quite an ordeal the last few weeks, so I want you to rest today. There is nothing you can do until I have more data. Go for a swim, watch a movie, or go out to eat. You two deserve a break.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I can’t really relax when I know Ren is suffering.”
“Your worrying about him won’t make him suffer less. He would want you to rest too. We will find him soon, Miss Kelsey. Don’t forget that I have led soldiers into battle many times over, and if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that all war-hardened troops need R&R, including you. Making time to relax is very important to the mental well being of all soldiers. Be off with you. I don’t want to see you or Kishan until this evening.”
I smiled at him and saluted. “Yes, General. I will convey your instructions to Kishan.”
He saluted me back. “See to it.”
I laughed and went in search of Kishan.
I found him in the dojo working on martial arts and sat on the bottom step to watch him for a few moments. He did a complicated set of aerial leaps and twists that would have been impossible if he didn’t have tiger strength. Then he landed two feet away and faced me with a playful grin.
I laughed. “You know, if you and Ren entered the Olympics you could both win several gold medals. Gymnastics, track and field, wrestling, you name it. You’d both get millions of dollars in endorsements.”
“I don’t need millions of dollars.”
“You’d have pretty girls fawning all over you.”
He smiled rakishly. “I only need one pretty girl fawning all over me, and she’s not interested. Now what brings you down here? Want to work out?”
“No. I wondered if you wanted to go for a swim. Mr. Kadam has ordered us to relax today.”
He grabbed a towel and scrubbed his face and head. “A swim, huh? It might cool me off.” He peeked from around his towel. “Unless you’re planning to wear a bikini.”
I snorted. “I don’t think so. I’m not a bikini kind of girl.”
He affected a deep, dramatic sigh. “That’s a pity. Alright, meet you at the pool.”
I headed upstairs and changed into my red one-piece swimsuit, slipped on a robe, and stepped out onto the veranda.
Kishan had changed into a pair of board shorts and was setting up the net for water volleyball. I’d just tossed my robe onto a deck chair and tested the water with my foot when I felt something cold on my back.
“Yikes! What are you doing?”
“Hold still. You need sunscreen. Your skin is so white you’ll burn.”
He efficiently coated my back and neck with lotion and started on my arms when I stopped him.
“I can take it from here, thanks,” I said, holding out my hand for the bottle. I squeezed out a quarter sized blob of lotion and rubbed it onto my arms and legs. It smelled like coconuts.
Kishan grinned, glanced at my legs, and winked. “Take your time.”
By the time he got the ball and a couple of towels out of the storage locker, I was done.
He asked, “Care for a game of volleyball?”
“You’ll beat me.”
“I’ll take the deep end. It’ll slow me down.”
“Okay, I guess we can try.”
He took a step closer. “Hold on a second.”
“What?”
He grinned mischievously. “You missed a spot.”
“Where?”
“Right here.”
He dabbed a giant blob of sunscreen on my nose and laughed.
I punched him and smiled. “You troublemaker!” I reached up to try and blend it in better.
“Here,” he said. “Let me.”
I let my hands drop down to my sides while his fingers lightly brushed the lotion over my nose and cheeks. The touch was friendly at first, but then his mood changed. He closed the distance between us. His golden eyes studied my face. I sucked in a deep breath and ran.
I took a few steps and cannonballed into the deep end of the pool, effectively splashing him and everything else nearby.
He laughed and dove in after me. I shrieked and swam underwater to the other side of the net. When I popped my head above water, I couldn’t see him. A hand grabbed my ankle and tugged me under. After I surfaced again, coughing and pushing the hair out of my eyes, Kishan sprung up next to me, flipped his hair back with a toss of his head, and laughed as I tried to shove him.
He didn’t budge, of course, so I splashed water at him instead, which turned into a water fight. It soon became painfully obvious that I was losing. His arms never seemed to tire, and when wave after wave of water drowned out my pathetic splashing, I called a time out.
He happily stopped the bombardment and, using his arms, pushed himself up and out of the pool to grab the volleyball. We started playing, and I was delighted to see that I’d finally found a game where I seemed to have an advantage.
After I spiked the ball for the third time, winning another point, Kishan asked, “Where did you learn to play? You’re pretty good!”
“I’ve never played in the water before, but I was decent at standard volleyball in high school. I almost joined the team, but that was the year my parents died. I wasn’t as interested in playing the next year, but it’s still my favorite game. I did okay at basketball too, but I was never tall enough to be competitive. Did you guys play sports?”
“We didn’t really have time for sports. We had competitions in archery, wrestling, and some games like Parcheesi, but no team sports.”
“Still, you can see I’m barely winning against you, even though you’re in the deep end and have never played before.”
Kishan grabbed the ball out of the air and fell into the water. When he surfaced, he was right across from me on the other side of the net. He lifted it and swam under. My feet were barely touching the bottom of the pool, leaving only my face above water. Our heads were at about the same level. He was still a good three feet away, and I narrowed my eyes wondering what he was up to. He watched me for a moment and smiled mischievously. I prepared for another water fight by raising my arms to splashing position.
Kishan was next to me in an instant. He snaked his arms around my waist, yanked me close, grinned roguishly, and said, “What can I say? I’m very competitive.” Then he kissed me.
I froze. Our lips were wet from the water. The chlorine taste was strong, and he didn’t move at first, so I could have been kissing the cool tile on the side of the pool for all I knew. But, then, he squeezed my waist, slid his hands up to caress my bare back, and tilted his head.
All of a sudden, the clean, wet, bleached out, non-kiss turned into a very real kiss from a very potent man who was very much not Ren. Kishan’s lips warmed and moved against mine in a pleasant way. Pleasant enough that I forgot that I didn’t want to kiss him and felt myself responding. My hands stopped pushing against him, and I gripped his strong upper arms. His skin was smooth and warm from the sun.
He responded with enthusiasm, wrapping one arm around my waist to crush me against his chest, while his other hand slid up my bare back to cup the back of my head. For the briefest of moments, I let myself delight in his embrace. But then, I remembered, and instead of making me happy or blissful, as kisses should, it made me sad.
I broke off the kiss and drew slightly away. Kishan kept his arm around my waist and placed a finger under my chin, tilting my face so I’d look at him. He studied my expression quietly. My eyes filled with tears. One rolled down my cheek and dropped to his hand.
He smiled tenuously. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.”
He reluctantly let me go as I swam away to sit on a step of the pool.
“I never claimed to be an expert kisser, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m not talking about the kiss.”
“Then what are you referring to?”
He didn’t say anything.
I spread my fingers and placed my hand on the surface of the water, letting it tickle my palm. Without looking at him, I asked quietly, “Have I ever given you a reason to hope for more?”
He sighed and swept his hair back ruefully. “No, but—”
“But what?”
I looked up. Big mistake.
Kishan looked vulnerable. Sort of hopeless and hopeful at the same time. Wanting to believe but not daring to. He seemed angry, frustrated, and unfulfilled. His despairing golden eyes were full of longing, but they also glittered with determination.
“But . . . I just can’t help thinking that maybe Ren was taken for a reason. That maybe fate intervened. That maybe you were meant to be with me all along.”
I replied bitingly, “The only reason that Ren was taken was because he volunteered himself to save our lives. Is this how you repay him?”
I watched the sting of my words wound him. It was easy to blame Kishan, but I was more upset with my reaction to him. I felt incredibly guilty about letting the kiss happen at all. My accusation was as much to me as to him. That I’d actually enjoyed his kiss made me feel even worse.
He swam to the side and rested his back against the wall of the pool. “You think I don’t care, don’t you? You think I don’t feel anything for my brother. But I do. Despite everything that’s happened, I wish I was the one who had been taken. You’d have Ren. Ren would have you. And I’d get what I deserved.”
“Kishan!”
“I’m serious. Do you think a day goes by that I don’t hate myself for what I’ve done? For what I feel?”
I winced.
“You think I wanted to fall for you? I stayed away from you! I gave him the chance to be with you! But there’s another part of me that asks what if? What if you’re not supposed to be with Ren? What if you were supposed to be the answer to my prayers? Not his!”
He watched me from the other side of the pool. Even from this far away, I could see that he was hurting.
“Kishan, I—”
“And before you say anything, I want to warn you that I don’t want your sympathy. It would be better if you said nothing than if you tried to tell me you didn’t like it or that you feel only friendship for me.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Good. Then are you admitting that you did like it? That there is chemistry between us? That you are attracted to me?”
“Do you need me to admit it?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Yes. I think I do.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Fine! I admit it. I liked it. We have chemistry. Yes! I’m attracted to you. It was nice. In fact, it was so nice that it actually made me forget Ren for all of about five seconds. Are you happy now?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“I can see that.” He assessed me from across the pool. “So all I got was five seconds, huh?”
“Honestly, it was probably more like thirty.”
He grunted. His arms were still crossed over his chest, but he wore a very self-satisfied-male type of grin now.
I sighed unhappily. “Kishan, I—”
He interrupted, “Do you remember when we escaped the House of Sirens in Shangri-la?”
“Yes.”
“And you said you escaped because you thought of Ren?”
I nodded.
“Well, I escaped because I thought of you. You filled my thoughts, and the spell of the sirens went away. Don’t you think that means anything? Couldn’t it mean that maybe we were meant to be together? The truth is, Kells, I’ve thought about you for a long time. Since I first met you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
A tear fell down my cheek, and I said softly, “I’m sorry for all that’s happened. I’m sorry for everything that you’ve been through. And I’m especially sorry for any suffering I’m causing you. I don’t know what to say, Kishan. You’re a wonderful guy. Too wonderful. If the situation were different, I’d probably still be over there kissing you.”
When I put my head in my hands, he ducked under the water and swam over to me. I heard him stand and looked up at his face. Water sluiced off his bronze torso. He really was a gorgeous man. Any girl would be lucky to have a guy like him.
He held out a hand. “Then come back over here and kiss me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not . . . I can’t,” I sighed sadly. “Look, all I know is, I love him. And being with you, as tempting as you are, is not something I can do. I can’t turn away from him. Please don’t ask me to.”
I got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around my body. I heard a splash and felt his nearness as he also dried off.
Kishan turned me to face him, willing me to meet his eyes. “You need to know that this is not about me competing with him. It’s not about some hidden agenda. It’s not a crush.” He brushed his thumbs across my cheeks and cupped the sides of my face. “I love you, Kelsey.”
He took a step closer.
I placed my hand on his warm chest and said, “If you really love me, then don’t kiss me again.” I stood my ground and waited for his reply. It wasn’t easy. I felt like running, escaping to my room, but we needed to settle this between us.
He stood there breathing deeply. He looked down, and I could see flashes of emotion cross his face. Then he raised his eyes to mine. He acquiesced and said, “I won’t promise that I’ll never kiss you again, but I will promise not to kiss you unless I’m sure that you and Ren are through.”
I was about to protest when he continued.
He touched my face lightly. “I’m not the kind of man to bottle up my feelings, Kells. I don’t sit up in my room pining away, writing love poems. I’m not a dreamer. I’m a fighter. I’m a man of action, and it will take all of my self-control not to fight for this. When something needs to be done, I do it. When I feel something, I act on it. I don’t see any reason why Ren deserves to get the girl of his dreams and I don’t. It doesn’t seem fair that this happens to me twice.”
I put my hand on his arm. “You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you’ve had to be with me night and day for the past few weeks. It’s not fair to ask you to set aside your feelings. It’s not fair to ask you to be my friend when you feel this way. But, the fact is, I need you. I need your help. I need your support. And, I especially need your friendship. I wouldn’t have survived one day in Shangri-la without you. I don’t think I can rescue Ren without you, either. It’s not fair to ask, but I’m asking. Please. I need you to let me go.”
He looked at the house, brooding for a moment, and then at me. He touched my wet hair and discontentedly said, “Alright. I’ll back off, but I’m not doing it for him and definitely not doing it for me. I’m doing it for you. Remember that.”
I nodded silently and watched him stalk off to the veranda. My knees buckled, and I sat down hard on the pool chair.
I spent the rest of the day in my room studying texts on the Baiga. I kept rereading sections. I felt divided, torn. I was confused. I felt like someone had asked me to pick which parent would live and which would die. Whichever choice I made, I would feel responsible for the death of the other one. It wasn’t about choosing happiness; it was about choosing suffering. Which one would I make suffer?
I didn’t want either of them to suffer. My happiness was irrelevant. This wasn’t like breaking up with Li or Jason. Ren needed me, loved me. But Kishan did too. There was no easy choice, no answer that would appease both of them. I pushed the books aside, picked up one of Ren’s poems and a Hindi/English dictionary. It was one of the poems he’d written after I left India. It took me a long time to translate it, but it was worth it.
Am I alive?
I can breathe
I can feel
I can taste
But the air doesn’t fill my lungs
All textures are rough
All tastes are muted
Am I alive?
I can see
I can hear
I can sense
But the world is black and white
Voices sound tinny and small
What I sense is confusing and out of place
When you’re with me
Air rushes into my being
Fills me with light
And happiness
I am alive!
The world is full of color and sound
Tastes tantalize my palate
Everything is soft and fragrant
I sense the warmth of your presence
I know who I am and what I want
I want you.
Ren
A giant tear fell with a splat on the paper. I quickly moved it out of teardrop range. Despite Kishan’s heartfelt words and the confusion about my relationship with him, there was one thing I couldn’t deny. I loved Ren. Wholeheartedly. The truth was, if Ren had been here, been with me, this wouldn’t be an issue.
When he was with me, I also knew who I was and what I wanted. Even without the strong connection, I could feel my heart swell at his words. I could picture him saying them, sitting at his desk, and writing them.
If I needed an answer, it was here—in my heart. When I thought of Kishan, I felt confusion and affection, mixed with a dollop of guilt. With Ren, I felt open and light. Free and desperately happy. I loved Kishan, but I was in love with Ren. How it happened was irrelevant. The fact was, it did happen.
As Kishan had said, I’d been with him longer now than with Ren. It wasn’t surprising that we’d become closer. But, Ren held my heart in his hands. It beat only because he cherished it.
I was determined to be kind to Kishan. I was familiar with heartbreak. Mr. Kadam was right that Kishan needed me too. I had to be firm with him and let him know he was my friend. That I could be anything he needed me to be with the exception of a sweetheart.
I felt better. Reading Ren’s poem grounded me. The feelings he spoke of, I felt too. I tucked the poem into my journal and went downstairs for dinner with Kishan and Mr. Kadam.
Kishan raised an eyebrow when I smiled at him. He turned back to his dinner, and ignoring him, I picked up my fork.
“The fish looks delicious, Mr. Kadam. Thank you.”
He waved a hand in dismissal, leaned forward, and said, “I’m glad you’re here, Miss Kelsey. I have news.”