Tiger's Curse (The Tiger Saga #1)

I quickly joined Ren who showed me a narrow wall at the edge of the room that couldn’t be seen from the doorway of the temple. Shallow stone shelves had been carved out like tiny alcoves. On the top shelf, far above my reach but still within Ren’s, sat a tiny rusty bronze bell covered in cobwebs and dust. It had a little ring at the top so it could hang from a hook.

Ren took it off the shelf and used his shirt to clean it. Wiping off the grime and powdery rust, he shook it, and it emitted an airy tinkling sound. He grinned and offered his hand, walking with me back to the statue of Durga.

‘I think you should be the one to make the offering, Kells.’ He brushed his hair away from his eyes. ‘You are the favored one of Durga, after all.’

I grimaced. ‘Perhaps, but you forget that I’m a foreigner, and you are a prince of India. Surely, you know what you’re doing more than I do.’

He shrugged. ‘I was never a Durga worshipper. I don’t really know the process.’

‘What did or do you worship?’

‘I participated in the rituals and holidays of my people, but my parents wanted Kishan and me to decide for ourselves what we believed. They had a great tolerance for different religious ideology because they were from two different cultures. What about you?’

‘I haven’t gone to church since my parents died.’

He squeezed my hand and proposed, ‘Perhaps we both need to find a path to faith. I do believe there’s something more than just us, a good power in the universe that guides all things.’

‘How do you stay so optimistic when you’ve been stuck as a tiger for centuries?’

He swiped a spot of dust from my nose with the tip of his finger. ‘My current level of optimism is a relatively new acquisition. Come on.’

He smiled, kissed my forehead, and pulled me away from the column.

We approached the statue, and Ren began dusting off the tiger. Cleaning the statue seemed like a good place to start. I unfolded the napkin Mr. Kadam had wrapped the fruit in and started to wipe years of dust off the statue. After we cleaned off all the dust and cobwebs from Durga and her tiger, including all eight of her arms, we dusted around the base and up the frame. At the base of the statue, Ren found a slightly hollowed-out rock that looked like a bowl. We decided that this may have been where people left their offerings.

I set the apple and banana in the bowl and stood directly in front of the statue. Ren stood next to me and held my hand. I stammered, ‘I’m nervous. I don’t know what to say.’

‘Okay, I’ll start and then you add what feels natural.’

He rang the small bell three times. Its tinkling sound echoed and bounc-ed around the cavernous temple.

In a loud, clear voice, he said, ‘Durga, we come to ask your blessing on our quest. Our faith is weak and simple. Our task is complex and mystifying. Please help us find understanding and strength.’

He looked at me. I swallowed, tried to wet my dry lips, and added, ‘Please help these two princes of India. Restore to them what was taken. Help me be strong enough and wise enough to do what’s necessary. They both deserve a chance to have a life.’

I gripped Ren’s hand firmly, and we waited.

Another minute passed, and another. Still nothing happened. Ren hugged me briefly and whispered that he had to change back into a tiger again. I kissed his cheek, and he began to change. The minute he was a tiger again, the room began to vibrate, and the walls began to shake. A booming thunder sounded in the temple, followed by several bursts of white lightning.

An earthquake! We’d both be buried alive!

Rocks and stones began falling from overhead, and one of the great pillars cracked. I fell to the ground. Ren leapt over me and stood over my body, protecting me from falling debris.

The quake gradually stopped, and the rumbling ceased. Ren moved away from me, as I staggered up slowly. I looked back at the statue in aston-ishment. A section of the stone wall had broken and slid to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.

On the wall where the rock had been was an imprint of a hand. I walked closer, and Ren growled softly. I traced the handprint with my finger and looked back at Ren. Mustering my courage, I lifted my hand and placed it in the print. I felt the stone grow hot like in the Cave of Kanheri. My skin glowed as if someone held a flashlight under my hand. Fascinated, I stared at the blue veins appearing as my skin became transparent.

Phet’s henna design surfaced vividly again and blazed bright red. Crackling sparks leapt from my tingling fingers. I heard a tiger growl, but it wasn’t Ren. It was Damon, Durga’s tiger!

The tiger’s eyes gleamed yellow. The stone changed from hard rock to living flesh and orange and black fur. It bared its teeth as it growled at Ren. Ren backed up a step and roared as his fur bristled around his neck. Suddenly, the tiger stopped, sat down, and turned its face up to its owner.

I took my hand out of the print and began moving away. Slowly, I stepped backward until I was standing behind Ren. Chills shot down my spine, and I started quaking with fear. The rigid statue began breathing, and the pale oyster-colored stone melted away into flesh.

The goddess Durga was a beautiful Indian woman, but with skin of gold. Dressed in a blue silk robe, she shifted, and I heard the whisper of material as it slid down a dainty limb. Jewels of every kind adorned each arm. They sparkled and glittered. Reflections in every color of the rain-bow filled the temple and bounced from place to place as she moved. I sucked in a breath and held it as she blinked open her eyes and lowered her eight arms. Durga folded two pairs across her chest and tilted her head as she regarded us.

Ren moved closer and brushed his side against me. It re---assured me, and I was very grateful for his steady presence. I put my hand on his back and felt his muscles tense under my palm. He was ready to pounce, to attack, if it became necessary.

The four of us considered each other silently for a time. Durga seemed to be particularly interested in my hand, which was currently stroking Ren’s back. Finally, she spoke.

One of her golden limbs stretched out and gestured toward us. ‘Welcome to my temple, daughter.’

I wanted to ask her why I was her favored one and why she called me daughter. I wasn’t even Indian. Phet had said the same thing, and the concept still baffled me, but I felt it was better to keep quiet.

She pointed to the bowl at her feet and said, ‘Your offering has been accepted.’

I looked down at the bowl. The food shimmered, sparkled, and then disappeared. Durga patted her tiger on the head for a while, seeming to forget we were there.

I chose to say nothing and let her take her time.

She looked at me and smiled. Her voice echoed like a tinkling bell through the cavern. ‘I see you have your own tiger to aid you in times of battle.’

My voice sounded weak and frail compared to her rich, melodic tone. ‘Umm, yes. This is Ren, but he is more than just a tiger.’

She smiled at me, and I found myself entranced by her splendor.

‘Yes. I know who he is and that you love him almost as much as I love my own Damon. Yes?’

She tugged on her tiger’s ear affectionately while I mutely nodded in agreement.

‘You have come to seek my blessing, and my blessing I will give. Come closer to me and accept it.’

Still frightened, I shuffled slightly closer. Ren maneuvered his body between the goddess and me and kept his attention trained on the tiger.

Durga raised all eight arms and used them to beckon me closer still. I took a few more steps. Ren came nose to nose with Damon. They both sniffed loudly while wrinkling their faces to show their dislike of the position.

The goddess ignored them, smiled warmly at me, and announced, ‘The prize you seek is hidden in Hanuman’s Kingdom. My sign will show you the gateway. Hanuman’s realm has many dangers. You and your tiger must stay together to make it safely through. If you separate, there is great danger for you.’