“The tiger agreed and despaired, knowing this was the last time he would ever see her. When she asked how long she must stay with him this time to gain his favor, he said, ‘I will not require you to stay, but if you are inclined, think of me once in a while and know that I will think of you every day of my long and lonely existence.
“She kissed his head again and again and, with fresh tears coursing down her cheeks, took her leave of him. Soon the youngest brother came, the last son of the king. He carried a rucksack and wore gloves, and while the tiger watched from the grass, the boy carefully sought a place to pick a fruit from the tree. Unfortunately, the lower branches no longer had any fruit to pluck since his brothers had taken them all. Because of this, the young man was forced to climb the tree. As he did, his bare wrist grazed a fruit, though he did not notice.
“With prize in hand, he departed, a broad smile on his face. The tiger honestly hoped the boy would make it back. That he would live, become the king, and care for his sister, but it wasn’t meant to be. Within the span of a few days, the gods appeared and gave him a lash for the boy plus a dozen more for telling the girl the secret of the fruit. He accepted the stripes gladly, for they distracted him from the pain in his heart.
“One day, he lay there healing, and he heard a sound. It was a far-off, familiar footstep. It was his princess. He raced back and forth, thrilled at the prospect of seeing her again. The heart in his chest beat thunderously at the notion that she had missed him as much as he had missed her. As she came down the path, he rushed toward her, unwilling to wait even a moment longer, but when he approached, he saw her downturned eyes.
“‘Princess!’ he cried. ‘What has happened?’
‘“My last brother has failed,’ she said, her expression ripped and wounded like papered window screens after a storm. ‘The burden of bringing the fruit to my father now falls to me, but I fear I will be too late to fulfill his final wishes. My father sees the ghosts of our ancestors circling him. Each moment, they draw closer, calling to him with the cries of carrion birds.’ Stiffening her back proudly, she asked, ‘Great tiger, will you allow me to take a fruit? If I am successful, I will return to you upon my father’s death and stay with you the rest of my days.’
“Immediately, the tiger responded, ‘Of course you may take a fruit, but you must be extremely careful. We will go together and you will stand on my back so your feet never touch the ground.’
“‘Thank you, my friend,’ the princess said.
“Though the tiger felt the word friend crumple him as effectively as if he were a scrap of parchment to be wadded in a ball and tossed over one’s shoulder, he stayed right on the heels of the princess, determined not to lose her. When he chose just the right spot, he cautioned her once again not to let the fruit touch her skin and bid her stand on his back. When she was secure, she lifted a gloved hand and pulled a glowing fruit gently. It detached from the tree with a slight snap of the branch, and the girl hastily put the fruit into her haversack.
“‘Is all well?’ the tiger asked as she stepped down from his back.
“‘I believe so,’ the girl replied.
“‘Are you certain the fruit did not touch your skin?’ the tiger admonished, tail twitching nervously.
“‘I am sure.’
“‘Then I will accompany you to the edge of my territory,’ the tiger said.
“Together, they walked down the path, the sack bumping the girl’s hip. Not knowing what to say, the two of them were silent. When they reached the border where the girl would depart from his lands, she knelt and stroked his face. ‘I promise I will return,’ she said. ‘Watch the horizon for me.’
“The tiger sighed heavily, feeling as hollow and dried up as a corn husk after harvest. ‘I will,’ he promised, but just as she took her first step away from him, leaving the area he guarded, the ground shook and the princess fell to the ground. Thunder boomed above them and a bolt of lightning hit the space between them, blackening the soil. Electricity crackled, trammeling them so there was no escape.
“Another lightning bolt struck, and with it came the odorous sizzle that meant a god was present. The tiger grimaced, his whiskers raised. ‘Tiger!’ a sonorous, bass voice boomed. Trees behind the princess split down the middle, both sides crashing as she sobbed.
“The tiger could do nothing but kneel and stare at the bare feet that stood in the air above his head. He steeled his spine for the stripes he knew would come. ‘You have betrayed us for the last time,’ the god declared. ‘What you have done has not served this girl or her father. It has only resulted in you extinguishing your own authority. For this, you will be punished.’ The god turned to the princess. ‘You, mortal girl, you will take the fruit out of the sack and bite into it.’
“‘No!’ the tiger shouted. ‘Please! Give me more stripes. Destroy me! But I beg you, do her no harm.’
“‘Foolish tiger,’ the god said. ‘This is not her punishment but yours. She will find comfort in the icy night sky as her body burns. Her light will be used to guide others and she will have her foolish brothers to keep her company.’ He turned to the princess. ‘Your father is already gone,’ he told her callously. ‘There is nothing left for you here.’
“‘But I am here,’ the tiger said. ‘I love her. I will take care of her. Please don’t make her sample the fruit.’
“‘And does she feel the same for you, tiger? Look at the stripes adorning your back and try to convince me that one who loves you allowed that to happen.’
“The princess stood there, fingers clutching her bag and tears raining down her cheeks. Her face had gone white, as light as the underbelly of the full moon, but her eyes were dark and filled with sorrow. The soft sigh she expelled through her pretty mouth when she looked at the tiger pierced his heart, impaling him so he couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.
“‘I do love him,’ she said quietly, her voice as smooth and fine as silk. Her words stitched up the tiger’s split heart. ‘I will gladly suffer his punishment.’
“‘I see,’ the god said. ‘Very well, get on with it then. Take a bite.’
“The tiger’s whole body rumbled as he roared, ‘No!’ but the determined princess dug through her pack and lifted the fruit to her mouth.
“‘I am sorry for the pain I’ve caused you,’ she said to her beloved tiger. ‘Please forgive me.’
“With that, the girl took a bite and gasped as the light of immortality slowly filled her frame. The forgotten fruit rolled out of her hands and crossed over the border to where the tiger sat in his invisible prison. The desperate tiger leapt on the fruit and gobbled it up, swallowing what remained whole. Because he was an unusual tiger and already immortal, the fruit affected him differently than the others.”
“What did it do?” the girl nearby asked.
“It changed him. Great wings erupted from his back, and before the change in the princess was complete, he broke the barrier the god had placed upon him and scooped her up. She grabbed on to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. By then, her whole body gleamed with light, and before the god could stop him, he leapt into the sky, his great wings carrying them both higher and higher until they disappeared among the stars.”
I paused for a moment to listen to the children. A soft, “Oh!” came from the boy next to me. “What happened to them?” he asked me.
Shrugging in the dark, I said, “No one knows. Some people think they roam the great river of stars in the sky. Others say they see them when a star falls or streaks across the sky. But all agree that they are still together.”
My story over, I scooted down in my cage, resting my head on my arms. “Best get some sleep,” I said to the children. “Morning will come soon enough.”
Soon it was quiet and I listened to the soft breathing of the children around me. My eyes closed and I’d almost drifted off to sleep myself when I heard a small sound coming from the cage across the cellar. It was Anamika. In a voice barely discernable, she said, “I wish a tiger would take me away too.”
I’m here, Ana, I said in my mind, hoping some part of her would hear me. I’m here.
Chapter 19
A Narrow Escape