“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.