Chapter 23
Teacher
Anamika’s young body lifted in the air and a whirlwind encompassed her. I stood quickly, thinking to catch her, but otherwise not knowing what to do. I knew it was the magic of the goddess at work, and I hoped that it meant I’d finally done enough to be able to bring her back.
The young girl closed her eyes, and fingers of light, wind, and water tore into her at the same time they ripped into me. Heat rushed through me and my limbs trembled. The amulet I wore gleamed with white light that shot toward the girl and pulled out something shimmering. Ana screamed, and all at once, the glowing entity floating above her shot away like a star and disappeared into the darkness outside the window. Breathing heavily, I caught her body as she fell.
As I was setting her back in her bed and adjusting the blanket, her eyes blinked open. “Ana?” I said softly. “Anamika, can you hear me?”
There was no reply. I soon heard a stomping outside her room and her parents entered.
“What happened?” her mother demanded with alarm and a glint of hope. There was no censure in their eyes. They knew I often spent my time watching over her, even late into the night. Her mother almost seemed to have a sixth sense about me and believed that I possessed a touch of magic that could help Ana. I’d once overheard her telling her husband that I was a lucky charm and that the only reason Ana hadn’t wasted away these past few months was because I was sharing my life energy with her.
In a way, she was right. Anamika and I did have a bond. At least, in the future, we did. As to the sharing of energy, I couldn’t say, but I could understand where she got the idea. Bags had formed beneath my eyes, and though I was often exhausted, I rarely slept through the night. When I did occasionally fall asleep in the chair in her room, I’d wake to find Anamika’s mother had checked on me and tucked a blanket around me in the night.
“Maa? Baabaa?” Anamika sat up, rubbing her eyes with her palms.
“Here we are, pyaari beti.”
Ana’s mother pulled her daughter into her arms as I stepped back.
“Mika!” her father said with a choked gasp. “What did you do?” he asked me as he stepped closer and stroked his daughter’s hair.
“Nothing,” I answered. “She woke when the lightning struck.”
“I didn’t hear any thunder,” her mother said as she rocked her daughter back and forth. “Thank you,” she added with tears in her eyes. “You are a gift from the gods.”
Anamika grumbled, “I’m hungry, baabaa.”
As her mother shouted downstairs for a servant to warm up the tureen of soup and some naan bread, lightning struck the ground again. Ana’s parents seemed not to notice. I glanced out the window and saw a figure standing in the dark beneath a tree. When the lightning brightened the sky again, I sucked in a breath, recognition shooting electricity through my veins. It hit a third time and I saw that the person had disappeared.
“Will you excuse me?” I asked. “I’ll leave the three of you to talk.”
They didn’t remark upon my exit. I made my way out to the lone tree and looked all around but saw no one. A pair of footprints were visible in the soft ground, but there were no tracks leading away. “Are you still here?” I asked softly.
“I’m here, son.”
Kadam placed his hand on my shoulder and I turned. My pulse leapt, beating thickly at my throat as I swallowed. Overwhelming emotion coursed through me. I never thought I’d see him again. In fact, I never thought I’d see anyone I loved after my failure to save Anamika. I choked back a sob.
Almost as if he knew the turmoil in my heart, he took hold of my arm and pulled me close. I hugged him to me, desperate to cling to the little bit of my life that was left. His shoulders trembled. He smelled of tea and spices, books and home. I’d missed him so much.
“I failed her,” I lamented in response. The empty feeling I’d been nursing for months had grown in the center of my chest, slowly leeching all my hope and draining me of purpose. Even though Ana had finally woken up and Kadam was even now standing in front of me, darkness yawned, opening its mouth to swallow the small fragments I grasped at. He had come to say good-bye. Whatever my fate, I deserved it. Kadam was here to tell me it was over.
“No.” He stepped back; his hands shook my arms as he looked into my eyes. “No. You didn’t fail her. You saved her. This was how it was supposed to happen.”
Realizing I gaped at him dumbfounded, I shook my head and sputtered, “Supposed to have happened?” I remembered his hasty, cryptic words spoken so long ago. He’d warned me that something harmful was going to happen to Ana and I needed to accept it, allow it to occur.
I jerked away from his grip, but my effort was halfhearted and one of his hands clung to my arm. “I was supposed to let her be abused?” I accused incredulously. “Supposed to let her die? You knew this would happen and you didn’t do a thing to stop it. You’re not the man I thought you were.”
“Perhaps I am not,” he said softly. “I told you that traveling the paths of time has affected me. Certainly, we have all changed. The universe will decide if it is for the better or not.”
He winced as I moved back unsteadily; the righteous indignation that burned like acid in my veins slowly cooled to black misery. I felt sorry for myself but sorrier for Anamika. The sweet, young girl I knew didn’t deserve what had happened to her.
“I know you’re upset,” he said. “I don’t blame you, son. But this is her past, Kishan. You remember the stories. The goddess Durga was born out of the river. When the rains came, the Anamika you knew had to perish so the goddess could be born. What she went through as a captive is the dark memory she hides from you. It was there. It was always there, Kishan.”
Scoffing and feeling disgusted with both myself and him, I said, “There must have been another way.”
“No,” he answered. “You gave her the fifth gift, the truth stone. And the fifth sacrifice is now fully realized. Without the terrible events of her past, Ana would never have been on that lonely road, never would have had you by her side, and never would have become the goddess.”
“Maybe that would have been better.”
“Better for whom?” Kadam asked.
“Better for her,” I spat.
Kadam clamped his lips in a tight line. He turned his back to me. “She’s waiting for you, you know.”
My gaze darted up to Ana’s window.
“No, not that one,” he clarified. “The one you drew out.”
I glanced around the dark landscape. “She’s here?” I asked, suddenly feeling desperate to see her.
He shook his head. “Not here,” he said. “Back at home. In the time you share. She calls to you even now. She wants you to come home. Can you not hear her?”
Frowning, I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. A soft thrum of power pulsed beneath my skin, and I felt renewed and alive in a way I hadn’t felt in far too long. Twisting my neck, I flared my nostrils and scents of all kinds registered in my mind. My lids shot open with surprise and I summoned the energy to transform. In the space of a few seconds, my perspective changed.
Whiskers sprung from my upper lip and my teeth elongated. I shifted down to the ground and felt the familiar sensation of my claws tearing into the grass. Swishing my tail, I arched my back and stretched in a way that felt exactly right. My tiger was back. It was interesting to me how much I missed him.
I growled softly and snorted at Kadam’s feet, fogging his shiny, polished shoes with my breath. A faraway singsong melody tickled the sensitive hairs in my ears. I cocked my head. It was Durga’s hatchling singing along with her goddess as she called for her tiger. Almost reluctantly, I changed back to my human form.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve lost, son.”
“You mean for what Ana’s lost.”
“No, that’s not what I’m referring to, though I am sorry for that too.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s what you gave up this time to save her, to bring her back.”
“You mean committing myself to a life spent in the service of the goddess?”
“There is that. But in pulling Ana back from the brink, you gave up something.”
My heart froze. I remembered that long ago day when I saved Ren. Kadam, or Phet, had told me I gave up my humanity to bring him back. It hadn’t felt like much at the time, and truthfully, I didn’t want to live forever anyway. Not really. But my immortality had already been taken. What was left.
“Tell me,” I said stiffly.
“You can no longer be separated from the tiger. If you choose this course and decide to go through with everything on the list, then the tiger will be a part of you until the day you die. Your life is forever entwined with his.”
“I see.” Standing there, I considered the consequence for saving Ana and decided very quickly it was worth it. I’d lived with the tiger a long time. We were a part of each other. I didn’t regret saving Ren and I wasn’t going to regret saving Ana.
“I know you distrust me right now, Kishan,” Kadam said. “Believe me, if I could have changed this event that transpired in young Anamika’s life, I would have.”
“You mean you would have if it wouldn’t have affected the goddess.”
His eyes darted away. “Yes. That is what I mean.”
I steeled my spine, my expression stony. “So, what’s next then?” I asked. “Do I simply return to her?”
“Not quite. Go home to the family tonight. Try to get some rest. You’ll see me tomorrow and you’ll understand everything then.”
Wearily, I looked up at the house. “Fine.”
I took a few steps away from him and then paused when I heard his soft words. “I hope you can forgive me someday, Kishan. But I encourage you to at least forgive yourself. You are not to blame for what’s happened.”
Without looking back, I moved forward and entered the house. Anamika was in the kitchen, pushing around the contents of a bowl of soup. Her mother said, “I thought you were hungry, Mika.”
“If you would back away instead of fluttering about her like a mother hen, then maybe she would eat,” said her father.
Young Sunil sat across from them, his fists balled up against his cheeks as he watched the exchange. “Did you see many bandits?” he asked.
“Hush!” his father snapped. “You are not to talk of such things.”
Anamika lifted her eyes to Sunil and then glanced up at me briefly. I hadn’t even been certain that she was aware I was in the room. Color filled her cheeks. “There were many bandits,” she said to Sunil. “There were slave traders, and men who whip children, and…and evil villains. And someday, I’m going to kill them all.”
Anamika’s mother immediately began crying and clucking about how her baby didn’t know what she was saying, while her father’s expression turned stony, but Ana met her brother’s eyes and he nodded soberly. In their young faces, I could see the warriors they would someday become. It broke my heart and yet I understood it too. This was the turning point for her.
Kadam had been right. What happened to Anamika marked her path in a way that would forge who she would become in the future. I couldn’t deny my part in it or the fact that I admired the person she was and would be. I just wished it didn’t have to happen the way it did, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could ever forgive myself or Kadam for letting it happen.
Anamika lifted her spoon to her mouth and began eating heartily. None of them stopped me when I left the room. I slept fitfully for a few hours and then went back to carving the truth stone. Now that Ana was awake, I finished fashioning the necklace I’d planned for her using a long strip of leather. After threading the small tiger I’d carved onto it, along with a few beads her mother gave me, I tucked it into a soft pouch with plans to give it to her the next time we spoke.
The following morning, there was a flurry of activity as a traveler appeared. He was welcomed into the home, and I was immediately summoned from my morning devotions in the garden. Sunil found me and tugged me toward the house. When I saw Anamika, I gave her a small sprig of jasmine and she took it, twisting it between her fingers. Ana’s long hair was still wet from bathing and her cheeks glowed with health. She smiled shyly at me. “We’ve talked about it and we were wondering…will you train Sunil too?” she asked.
Her brother nodded vigorously. “We need to be prepared if the men return.”
I sucked in a breath as I considered the two of them. “Can we speak of this after I meet our visitor?” I asked.
They both agreed.
Making my way to the room where the men had gathered, I wondered what would happen next for the two of them. Their father wasn’t much of a warrior as far as I could tell. I guessed that the visitor was Kadam though I couldn’t be certain. Not for the first time, I hated the fact that he kept so many secrets.
When I entered the room and saw who was sitting there, I froze briefly, giving the visitor a long look. Of course. It all made sense. A grinning Phet peered up at me from the chair where he sat, his eyes shooting secret messages through the air like arrows. I raised a sardonic eyebrow, sending a message of my own.
“My boy!” Phet said, rising agilely to his feet. He clapped his hands on my shoulders and stood on his tiptoes to murmur softly in my ear. Kadam was nearly my height. I knew that the Divine Scarf changed appearances, but for the first time, I wondered where the rest of him went. Phet was diminutive in comparison. He confirmed what I’d suddenly come to realize and we sat down.
He made it easy on me and did most of the explaining. After introducing himself as my former teacher, he said he’d been sent to summon me home. Anamika’s face fell and I wasn’t the only one to see her abruptly walk out of the room. Her brother followed her a moment later. Even her mother dropped her sewing on the floor and quickly stooped to pick it up. “Must he leave now?” she asked.
“I am sorry,” Phet said sincerely, “but he is needed at home.”
Ana’s father nodded. “It’s been a blessing for our family to have him here. We owe him and his family a debt that can never be repaid.” He turned to me. “We will, of course, outfit you with our best horse, provisions, and gold, such as we have.”
Raising a hand, I said, “You have been more than generous in allowing me to stay with you these past months. I prefer to travel as lightly as possible and hunt along the way, but I appreciate the gesture.” Pausing, and unable to ignore Phet’s raised eyebrows, I added, “However, there is something you could do for me.”
“Name anything you like and we’ll see it done if at all possible,” Ana’s father said.
“During the journey here, before Anamika fell ill, she asked me to teach her how to use a knife.”
Ana’s mother brought her hand to her mouth. Her soft gasp was audible.
“I thought it would help her feel confident to learn how to handle one. If she should be taken unawares, it would give her a means of defending herself.”
Ana’s father gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white, while her mother’s mouth worked soundlessly. I knew she’d protest what I was planning to suggest, so I tried to channel Ren’s diplomacy and explain things in way they’d understand.
Since they said nothing, I plunged ahead, hoping for the best. “She’s quite good at it. Her reflexes are natural and sharp. I think continued training will help her adjust to what’s happened.”
“But…but women do not train with weapons,” Ana’s mother said. Her sewing had dropped to the floor again and this time she didn’t bother to pick it up.
“Some do,” I said. “My mother, in fact, is a renowned swordswoman. Phet has worked with her countless times.”
Ana’s parents glanced at Phet doubtfully and I chuckled. “He doesn’t look quite as menacing as he used to, but he’s the one who trained me.” Their eyebrows went up. They’d seen me spar with the few men who they employed as soldiers. I’d spent many hours with them, helping them better their skills. None of them came close to my skill level and Ana’s parents knew it. They looked at each other and then back at the two of us.
“If you will allow it,” I said, “Phet would like to stay on with you for a few months. He’s not as sharp in body as he used to be, but his mind is quite alert.”
“Of course your friend may stay,” Ana’s mother said. “But are you certain you cannot remain until he recovers and then travel on together?”
I shook my head. “Unfortunately, I cannot. I have stayed far too long already. There are those back home who need me.”
Ana’s father shifted uncomfortably in his chair and leaned forward. I could see by his body language that he was going to deny my request. Before he could say anything, I shifted closer to him and, lowering my voice, added, “I would consider this a favor in equal weight to mine for returning Anamika home. Phet cannot travel as quickly as I can, so it would do much to comfort my mind if he stayed on with you for a time.”
I knew Kadam as Phet could hear everything I said, but he glanced out the window twitching his fingers at a bird that landed on the sill and then deftly scooped up the fallen embroidery, handing it back to Ana’s mother. She thanked him and he gave her a gap-toothed grin.
Louder, I continued, “He is a brilliant strategist and could take my place in training your soldiers. He can watch over Anamika and Sunil and school them in whatever lessons you wish. If you have need of me, you can always send him back to find me.” That more than anything pushed the decision in my favor.
“We would be delighted to show…Phet”—Ana’s mother nodded to the man—“our hospitality. Consider our home yours,” she said. “When will you leave?” she asked, turning to me.
“Within the hour. If I may, I’d like to take leave of Anamika and her brother first.”
I rose to seek out Ana. Closing my eyes, I opened myself to our connection. It was strongest where the adult Ana waited for me in the future, but I could also locate her where she was now, and our link was fully open. Open enough for me to know she was a horribly used but still very innocent, brokenhearted girl.
Ana sat on the ground, her back against the marker her father had commissioned for her when he thought her dead. Sunil sat nearby, keeping vigil. I noticed he carried a small sword in his hands, and he stood up at my approach as if he planned on defending his sister.
“Have you come to say good-bye, then?” he demanded, his young face fierce and scowling.
“I have,” I said.
“So you’re just leaving us? You don’t care about us anymore?”
“Of course I care about you. But I’m needed at home. I have good news though.”
“What is it?” He folded his arms across his thin chest.
“Your father has agreed to your training. Both of you.”
“Who will train us if you’re gone?” a small voice asked.
I glanced over at Anamika. Her long hair hung in locks that covered her face. Where Sunil was stiff with upset, Ana was the opposite. With her back curved and her arms lying limply across her lap, she looked wrung out and empty, like a bit of discarded lace, a beautiful thing that had been carelessly tossed aside. It stung that I was the one who caused her to feel that way.
Crouching down next to her, I said, “Sunil? Do you mind if I have a moment to speak to Anamika privately?”
He looked like he wanted to protest but then he nodded and stalked back to the house.
“Ana?” I took her hand but she pulled away and turned her back to me. I sighed and sat beside her, leaning back against the stone monument too. “I’m sorry I have to go. I did convince your parents to allow your training. Phet will be a good teacher. I promise. He taught me everything I know.”
She peered up at me distrustfully, one eye peeping through her curtain of hair. “It won’t be the same,” she said.
“I know. But you don’t need me anymore.”
“It doesn’t feel like that.”
“No,” I agreed. “It doesn’t.”
I heard a sniffle and saw her dash her hands across her eyes.
“I’ve brought something for you,” I said.
“What is it?” she asked, turning halfway toward me.
“It’s something to remember me by.” Pulling out the pouch, I drew out the tiger necklace and held it out to her.
“Is it the tiger we saw on our journey?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No. This tiger is very special. When you feel lonely or sad or if you aren’t sure what to do, ask your tiger. He will always be there for you and he will tell you the right way to go. Here.” Prying open her fingers, I placed the tiger on her palm. “Ask him a question.”
“Will…” She paused and licked her lips. “Will I see Kishan again?” The tiger glowed and she gasped with wonder.
“There. You see? He’s got a bit of magic in him. I promise that he will always watch over you and do his best to keep you from harm. When he warms in your palm, the answer is yes and those around you speak the truth, but when he remains cold, you should move forward with caution. Do you understand?”
Ana nodded, her eyes large with wonder. “Thank you for this gift.”
I touched my finger to her chin and smiled. “I would give you anything you asked for, Anamika Kalinga.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Then will you stay?”
“I will always be with you Ana. Even if you can’t see me.”
She seemed to accept that answer, and I left her there with her thoughts, hoping that Phet would indeed be able to guide her. She was so vulnerable, so fragile. Being with her and knowing what had happened to her had gone a long way to help me understand the woman she’d become. As I walked back to the house, I found I was looking forward to reconnecting with the adult Anamika. Perhaps now we wouldn’t fight so much. Maybe we could find a way to be comfortable around each other.
After returning to my room, I gathered my things, and as I did, a golden head peeked out from beneath my pillow. “There you are,” I said as I gathered up the snake in my hands. She wrapped around my wrist, and when I opened my bag, she ducked her head inside and the rest of her soon followed. I said my good-byes to Ana’s parents, and Phet offered to walk with me down the path to the edge of the estate.
Once we were clear of the house, he straightened his stooped back and changed to his normal form. “Best get back to her now, son,” he said.
“What will happen?”
“You mean with Anamika?”
I nodded.
“Her parents will come around eventually, but I’ll have to train her and Sunil in secret for a number of years. By the time their parents realize how skilled they really are, they will be well on their way to becoming warriors. Sunil will stay by his sister every day, taking upon himself the task of being her personal guard. He blames himself for what happened to her.
“In fact, the only reason he left for the future at all was because he believed it would do her a disservice to stay. The memories of harming his sister while under Lokesh’s thrall were very strong. Too strong for him to ignore. The last thing he ever wanted to do is hurt her.”
“You’ve seen his future?” I asked.
“Yes.” Kadam as Phet smiled. “They are very happy together.”
“Nilima and Sunil, you mean?”
He smiled, his face serene. “It’s what I want for all of you, you know. Her too.”
I wasn’t sure if he was still talking about Nilima or if his thoughts had drifted elsewhere, but I thought it better not to ask.
“Go now.” He gave me a brief nudge. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“How did you do it?” I asked. “You taught them for years. When did you have the time?”
A weary expression stole across his face. “Time is my greatest ally, Kishan. It is also my greatest enemy. You will learn this for yourself, I’m afraid.” He clapped my shoulder. “But there is much more to come for you before that. I’ll see you again soon.”
The small piece of truth stone that hung from a leather tie at my neck warmed. “See you soon,” I said.
He turned and headed back to the home, and I watched him physically change from a tall and straight man to a stooped and wizened wizard. When he was gone, I sucked in a deep breath and allowed the connection to Anamika to bloom in my chest. Awareness of her shot out from my heart and filled my frame with a piercing light. “I’m coming,” I said softly.
As I clutched the amulet solidly in my hand, I thought about the little girl I was leaving behind. The goddess had been trapped inside a broken, vulnerable young woman. The Anamika I knew had gone to great lengths to hide that little girl, locking her deep within. Maybe now, she’d open that part of herself up to me. Maybe, when I looked in her eyes, she’d let me see that piece of her, long forgotten.
In a whirl of energy, time and space folded around me, and soon I was looking up at our familiar mountain. Heading home, I smiled, feeling like I knew Anamika now in every way it was possible to know her.
I was wrong.