Chapter 14
Intruder Alert
We landed in our time on the grass of our mountain home. I set her down and then turned away abruptly, stalking toward the doors. The young boy she’d sent ahead burst out just as I was entering. He backed away from me when he saw my face as did the older servant. Xing-Xing took off at a run, skirting me widely, to greet his goddess, while I entered the hall and slammed the door loudly behind me.
By the time I got to my room, the one I seldom used, I paced angrily, and then, not feeling my emotions wane, I headed down the long stairs to the secret passageway that led outside. I leapt down the stairs several at a time, and when I got to the bottom, I recklessly left the passageway entrance open and immediately switched to a tiger.
I raced to the forest, heedless of anyone who saw me, and tore through the trees. Finding a rotting stump, I tore at it with my claws and teeth until it lay in mangled clumps all around me. Still unappeased, I chased a herd of animals, snapping and swiping at their legs, not trying to take one down but just trying to cause as much chaos as I could.
When my breath came in great gasps and my tongue hung out of my mouth from panting, I walked deeper into the forest until I found a dark hollow near a stream. I drank deeply, letting the frigid water cool the blood pounding in my head, and then crawled into the hollow and curled up, putting my head on my paws.
I must have fallen asleep because the moon had risen when a sound alerted me. Unmoving, my eyes snapped open and I scanned the forest. There was a splash and I caught the scent of jasmine. My tail twitched as everything in me came alive and I lifted my head. Repositioning my body, I centered myself and waited. My nose wrinkled and my whiskers lifted in a silent snarl. The intruder crept closer, the footfalls barely making a sound.
When she was in just the right place, I sprung from my hiding place and barreled toward her. At just the right moment, I leapt in the air, claws out and jaws open, a specter of death as dark as the night. My victim didn’t run. Didn’t scream. Instead, she turned her green eyes on me, her expression resigned, and opened her arms to the attack.
Trying to stop my momentum was impossible. I made the attempt anyway and likely made the impact worse. The full weight of my tiger body hit her with enough force to break bones. I twisted, ducking my head so my teeth wouldn’t impale her, and retracted my claws. But it wasn’t enough. We went down. My body hit the ground and rolled. I felt her arms wrap around me and realized we were rolling together.
We came to a stop when my back thumped roughly against a tree. My tail was the only thing that didn’t hurt, but I knew she would be much worse off. I tried to move away, but I was pinned between her and the tree and I didn’t want to hurt her worse than she already was. With her hand on my ribs, I opened my connection to her to assess the damage and was happy to find that she was bruised but not broken, though she did have a wicked scratch from my claws on her thigh.
“It’s fine,” she said out loud when I made a husky sort of whine. She lifted her hand to my face and stroked my fur. “You are right to be angry with me, Sohan,” she said. “I don’t blame you for attacking me.” Sighing, she shifted away and I rolled to my belly and crouched, studying her as she used the scarf to bandage the wound in her thigh. It was deep and bled freely, but once the material of the scarf touched it, the bleeding slowed to almost nothing.
Now that I knew she wasn’t irreparably damaged, my wrath returned. What she’d done had been cruel and hateful and yet I knew that wasn’t who she was. Her actions caused a discordant note to thrum in my veins, and try as I might, I couldn’t find a way to justify what she’d allowed to happen. A boy was dead because of her, and she’d wielded her power over me in such a way that I’d been incapable of stopping it.
Rising to my feet, I paced around her. Scrunching my nose, I hissed and spat, narrowing the distance between us as I circled. I knew it wasn’t the gentlemanly thing to do, and it should have scared her down to her boots to be cornered by a tiger like that. Kelsey would never have forgiven me for such a display. But Ana sat there, matter-of-factly watching my posturing, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, the only sign that my actions disturbed her at all.
Finally, I pounced, landing right in front of her, and roared loud enough to break her eardrums. The quiet that came after was as immense as the roar had been. She didn’t move. Didn’t defend herself. She didn’t even flinch, which was either a sign that she had absolute trust in me or, the more emasculating thought, she had absolutely no fear of me.
As I peered at her, my nose twitched, and I realized she was crying. The great goddess Durga had lowered her head, her long hair hiding her face, as she wept silently. If I hadn’t smelled the tang of salt from her fresh tears, I might not have even known. Never in my long life had I seen a girl cry in such a manner.
The thread that bound me to her tugged at me forcefully. I sat quickly and just stared at her. When Kelsey cried, it was a wild, messy thing. It was a wet sorrow—purple bruises on the inside and red rage on the outside—and tangled knots of feelings. Her emotions raged in such a way that it was difficult to reel her in and try to soothe her. Afterward, she’d end up utterly spent and would sleep for twelve hours.
With Anamika, her tears were almost ghost-like. She allowed only the barest hint of her feelings to even enter her heart, let alone spill over. It reminded me of a warrior’s tears—an almost shameful, hidden thing that happened in the dark by a campfire. The traces of tears wet the blankets that warriors rolled up in after a wearying, deadly battle.
If it wasn’t for the connection I had with her, the one still open between us after I’d assessed her for injury, I might have wondered if she was even upset at all. The wet paths down her cheeks might have been the glint of moonlight. She was so controlled. So restrained in her grief. But she was grieving. In fact, she was almost drowning in it. I heard the crack of thunder somewhere overhead and lightning hit a tree in the forest.
I didn’t want to feel her pain. Didn’t want to give in to the temptation to comfort her. Not after what she’d done. But almost without meaning to, I stepped closer. She reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck. Ana buried her face in my fur and the already muted sounds of her sorrow disappeared altogether. It surprised me that she didn’t automatically close off our connection. In fact, she pressed closer and took all my anger and betrayal into herself. She processed it and accepted it.
Slowly, my fury abated enough that I opened my mind to her thoughts. I could sense the burning in her throat as she swallowed back her sobs. With the lulling stroke of her hand on my back, she at least let me see what had happened through her eyes. Kadam had appeared. I should have guessed as much.
He’d come to her in the hall before she returned to me to tell me the whereabouts of Lady Silkworm. After a lecture on allowing history to unfold the way it was supposed to, he insisted that she prevent me from saving that boy, that I needed to let destiny decide the boy’s fate.
Kadam had been the one who prevented us from changing the horse back to a boy in the stable. He then told her that if I saved the silk maker, then Lady Silkworm would never meet Kelsey, would never guide us on our journey to the dragons. That pulling that one young man out of the fabric of the universe would cause an unraveling that would destroy everything we’d accomplished. His words and demeanor had frightened Ana, filling her with dread regarding his all-too-righteous purpose based on his otherworldly perceptions.
At that moment I wanted to rip into my old mentor and fling him down to hell, or at least to the awful place where Ana and I existed, which was a sort of hell to me. For the long months since Kelsey and Ren left, I felt as if I’d been caught in a terrible limbo where we were wedged somewhere between mortality and immortality, lost in time.
Then I remembered Kadam was trapped in the same awful loop as we were. He was just as much a victim as the two of us. Only now, he actually was dead. It was ironic and sad that I could be so angry at a dead man. Every time he appeared to one of us, he was just an echo of the man who was now gone forever. When would his last visit happen? Had it already?
His death had left a giant wound in my heart. Like the hollowed-out space in the ground where a large tree had been uprooted. We’d already grieved for him, but Kadam didn’t truly leave us, not entirely. He had left little scattered seeds behind, and even as we tried to make our own way, we’d stumble over one of his other selves and his impact would be felt once again. I wondered if the grieving over him would ever end.
Trying to avoid the path he wanted us to take was as fruitless as kicking over an anthill. He’d just rebuild or figure out a way to go around us. Whatever the case, I couldn’t blame Anamika for listening to him. Kadam had been her teacher as much as he’d been mine. She trusted him in her way as much as I did. He’d put us on this path together, and no matter what, I wasn’t planning on leaving her to face this strange life alone.
Closing my eyes, I shifted to human form and drew a trembling Ana onto my lap. She wrapped her arms around my neck more tightly and I stroked her back. “Shh, Ana. I don’t blame you. Everything will be all right.”
“The silk maker is dead because of my decision,” she whispered against my neck.
“We’ve made hard decisions like that before,” I said, my voice muffled by her hair.
“Yes”—she drew in a shaky breath and lifted her head, looking into my eyes—“but he was just a boy. Not a warrior like the others.”
Thunder boomed overhead again. Wiping a tear from her cheek with my thumb, I said, “You did what you had to do.”
“Did I?” she asked glumly.
Sighing deeply, I answered, “You did. Kadam isn’t a cruel man. If he believes the young man’s death needed to happen, then it needed to happen. Otherwise…” My words trailed off. My attempt to soothe her felt oily and wrong somehow. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Kadam. I did. I believed that he believed it needed to happen. I just didn’t know if I believed it yet.
“You question my actions too,” she said.
“No. Not yours.”
“I will speak with you first next time, Sohan,” she said insistently. “I promise you this.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“It was wrong for me to make the choice without you.”
Now that she was more under control, I purposely moved my hands away from her body, placing them on the ground. “You thought I’d stop you,” I said simply.
Ana cocked her head and nodded briskly before standing up and offering me her hand. I took it and glanced at her injured thigh exposed beneath her torn clothing. “It does not matter if you try to stop me or not,” she said. “We agreed to do this together.”
I rose with my hand in hers though I didn’t allow her to take any of my weight. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I said gruffly.
“You did not hurt me any more than I hurt you.”
We began walking back to our home. “I think I hurt you a little more,” I said, lightly teasing her. “I’ll use the kamandal to heal you when we get back.”
“Also I would like a bath and good night’s sleep.”
“Me too.”
We headed back to our mountain home, walking side by side, a companionable silence between us. When we arrived at the base, she stopped short at seeing the vast numbers of people camping there. It was like a small city had sprung up. Straining my ears, I caught the musical lilt of at least a half dozen languages, and yet the atmosphere was one of cheer and mutual respect.
“We must send down supplies,” she said fretfully as she counted the campfires that dotted the land.
“I’ll see to it,” I said wearily. “Shall we head around back?” I asked, thinking of the hidden passage.
“No.” Turning to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body close to mine.
I reacted instinctively though I was confused and slid my hands around her small waist. My eyes were drawn to the soft petals of her lips and the thick, dark lashes that swept over her cheeks as she closed her eyes. Around us the air changed. A bright, golden light encompassed our bodies, bubbling softly like sunset-tinged sea foam. Her hair brushed my arm as it whipped in the wind that lifted us up into the night sky.
As we floated above the camp, her power wrapped around us, I pressed my cheek against hers and we held on to one another. I wasn’t sure if our fight had completely fixed the divide that lay between us, but the distance to bridge it was certainly smaller than it had been. We touched down and I took her hand, leading her to her room. When I left her there, the door closing on the small smile I gave her, I sought out our young apprentice, Xing-Xing, and handed him the Golden Fruit.
His eyes bugged when I told him of its power. After a few demonstrations of how to use it, I left him in the supply room with the task of creating enough food to feed two thousand warriors. He set about the work with great enthusiasm, and I couldn’t help but laugh when the scent of sugar and honey infused the air.
Before I found my bed, I bathed quickly, not even bothering to dry off. I shook my wet hair wildly, like a tiger would, and then climbed between the sheets. It was a good twelve hours before I moved, and when I did, I immediately knew something was wrong. My head hurt and slick, black rainbows swam before my eyes. Someone had been in my room and had dealt me what would amount to a killing blow over the head if I had been a typical mortal man.
Brown, crusted blood flaked from my sheets as I sat up and gingerly felt the raised knot on the back of my head. Standing and nearly falling, I grasped desperately for the bedpost as I tried to steady my quavering legs. Stumbling forward, I hurried toward Ana’s room and wrenched open the door only to find her room ransacked and the bed empty. The scent of several men stung my nostrils. How had they gotten in?
I called out for Xing-Xing and for Ana’s man, Bhavin. Neither of them answered. Panicked, I searched Ana’s room. Had she taken off the amulet? The only way she could have been captured was if she’d been hit over the head like me, that is, unless she’d taken off the amulet. She did that sometimes when she bathed, though I’d warned her time and again to always leave it on.
Rummaging through what remained of her jewelry box, I found nothing of value. Gone were her weapons as were several priceless gifts she’d been given over the years. To my great relief, I spotted a golden tail tucked behind the curtain.
“Fanindra,” I said. “Can you help me find her?”
The golden cobra blinked her eyes and stretched her coils, growing larger until she was full-sized. She slid across Anamika’s bed, her tongue flicking out to taste the air, and then circled the post, moving quickly down until she reached the floor. I followed her to Ana’s bath, and Fanindra stuck her head beneath a towel on the lip of the stone edge.
When I picked it up, sure enough, the amulet fell to the ground with a thump. Thanking Fanindra, I placed the amulet around my neck and lowered my arm. Fanindra wound around it and hardened into gold as I raced out of the rooms, following the scent of the men. Their scents headed toward my hidden stairs, and I cursed myself for having left so abruptly the day before and leaving the secret door open. Instead of taking the time to run down the stairs, I leapt into the dark space in the middle and fell, using the power of wind to slow my drop so I landed in a soft crouch at the bottom.
When I closed the hidden door behind me this time, I used the amulet to seal it shut permanently and took off at a run, following the men who’d taken Ana. Fanindra’s emerald eyes lit the landscape for me though I could see well enough at night as a tiger. Even so, I noticed how living creatures were outlined vividly when she turned her gaze on them. “Help me find them,” I whispered to her. “Help me find Ana.”
Without the amulet, they could overpower Ana, keep her unconscious. They wouldn’t be able to draw the bow or wield the gada though they could certainly take them. If they had enough men, they could divide the weight of the weapons easily enough, and my nose told me they had plenty.
In fact, the numbers grew. More and more scents joined the party as I ran. My blood ran cold as I thought about what they could do to her. Ana was a warrior but without her powers, she couldn’t handle so many. To keep my mind off the danger she was in, I ticked off a list of possible assailants, trying to figure out who might have done this. Truthfully, we’d made a lot of enemies, even if I only considered the current time.
The temptation of seizing the powers of the goddess was a strong motivation. As many safeguards as we’d put into place, it was now obvious that there weren’t enough. I’d been too complacent in my duties. Too relaxed. I should have woken up before a man even entered my room, let alone given him time to bash me over the head.
Granted, both of us were exhausted from our efforts of late but that was no excuse. Ren would yank my tail off for such negligence. I ran until dark fell again and then I entered the forest. With my night vision and my sense of smell and heightened hearing, I sped on while the men slowed.
Finally, I came upon their campfire. A spit of some kind of meat snapped and popped over the flames and my mouth watered. I hadn’t eaten in some time. Setting Fanindra on the ground, I asked, “Can you find Ana?” The snake lifted her head, her hood extending, and she turned toward the right, bobbing in the air, then she turned to the left. Slowly, her hood closed and she lowered the top half of her body and slid off into the grass.
I followed her as best I could as she made her way around the outskirts of the camp, but she came too close to a guard, who shouted and scampered back. I ducked so I wouldn’t be seen as he raised his scimitar and struck the ground. My mouth opened but I said nothing as the wary man leapt away and another joined him.
“What is it?” the man asked.
“Snake. Never seen one like it. Albino I think. Not sure I got it. Can’t find it now.”
I was preparing to move again and hoping Fanindra was unharmed when something brushed against my foot. It was Fanindra with her tail missing. I ran a finger down her body. As I did, she wriggled and squirmed, her mouth open, and before my eyes, a new tail grew to replace the old one.
She turned her head as if to inspect her new lower half before moving on through the trees again, giving the guards a wide berth. We circled all the way around the camp until Fanindra stopped and peered straight ahead. Touching my hand to a fern, I moved it aside and saw Ana was tied to a tree.
Scooping up Fanindra, I waited until the guard near her nodded off and crept closer. A large bruise colored her jaw and her head was slumped down to her chest. Her arms were tied to the tree behind her and her legs were bound as well. She wore only her nightdress, which was drawn up to mid-thigh, and the neckline was torn, exposing the upper curve of her breast. I couldn’t tell if it had happened when she struggled or if she’d already been subjected to abuse.
Purple bruises, several of them the exact size of fingerprints, marked her long legs and arms, and I ground my jaw in fury. I would kill them for touching her. The men at the fire droned on in their nasal dialect as they expounded upon their cleverness and rehashed their triumphant raid. One insinuated about what he planned to do with Ana, while another bragged openly. They argued over who had the right to her first and congratulated the man with the magic to keep tigers at bay.
I froze and listened carefully. Now it all made sense. They’d gone and found themselves an ancestor of the Baiga. They had a gunia in their midst. It was a relief to know I wasn’t just faltering in my post. There was magic involved. One that had incapacitated Ren as well. As they continued to threaten the goddess, it was all I could do not to kill them immediately.
Not that I didn’t plan to kill them. I would. I just wanted her to be safe first. Leaning over her, I adjusted her dress and patted her cheek. “Ana?” I whispered. “Ana, love, you need to wake up.”
She groaned and whimpered. Her head lolled drunkenly.
“Ana,” I said again, shaking her shoulder. “I need to get you out of here.”
She licked her lips, which were cracked and bloodied, and jerked her head away from me. “No,” she said quietly. “No!” I covered her mouth so she wouldn’t wake the guard, but she thought I was one of her attackers. She sucked in a ragged breath and I could tell she was going to scream.
I shifted my hand to her jaw and spoke to her in my mind, shushing and soothing her. Even semiconscious, she immediately relaxed, sensing I meant her no harm. Taking the amulet from around my neck, I placed it over her head. I stroked her bruised cheek gently and leaned closer, whispering, “Go home, Ana. You have to go home.”
“Home,” she said, her voice raw.
Before I could lift my hand away, both of us were swept away in time and space, and when we landed, her upper body, no longer supported by a tree, fell with a thump onto the ground. I hissed and lifted her bruised body, cushioning her head on my knee. We’d left all our weapons behind. Anamika was unconscious. And in front of me was a sprawling estate that was unmistakably Indian.
A young boy burst from the trees, followed by a long-legged girl with green eyes.
“Ana,” I mumbled in shock.
We’d come to Ana’s past. The teenage boy was Sunil and the girl next to him, a young Anamika. Wide-eyed, the two of them approached. The teenage Anamika crouched down next to us. “Run and get Father, Sunil,” she said, her eyes full of compassion as she looked at us. “The woman is hurt.”
Sunil took off, and before I could stop her, the young beauty reached out to touch the hair of her older self. The injured woman at my side shimmered and then disappeared, turning into a shower of gold that rose in the air. The amulet she’d been wearing fell to the ground.
“Ana!” I screamed and glanced up. The golden light surrounded the young girl and lifted her into the air. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the light was sucked into her body. When the light was absorbed, she drifted close to me and lowered slowly into the same position Ana had been in before. She slumped in my arms just as her father and brother ran up to us.
The tall man, wearing a jeweled turban, turned a mottled shade of red.
“I’ll thank you to unhand my daughter!” the man demanded.
“Where did the woman go?” Sunil asked.
I said nothing, but rose and placed Anamika in the arms of her father.