Tiger's Dream (The Tiger Saga #5)

Letting out a long sigh, I said, “I’m sorry, Ana.” I headed over to where she stood and skipped another stone. As it sank, it transformed into a gemstone, and I stared at it, watching it fall to make sure it wasn’t just a trick of the light. Then I saw that all the rocks in the river had changed. The bed of the river was now lined with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and other precious stones.

Why did the rocks change in the water? Did the Kappa demons cause it? I glanced over at Ana and saw her tossing an emerald up and down in her hand as she stared thoughtfully at the water. “You did this?” I asked, pointing at the water.

“I did,” she answered quietly.

The gemstones would tempt anyone. The idea that Ana would purposely draw Kelsey toward those evil creatures didn’t sit right with me. “Why?” I sputtered.

She whirled on me. “Why not, Kishan?” Ana spat my name with an air of disgust, as if the very mention of me tasted wrong on her tongue.

Trying to keep my temper under control, I worked my jaw back and forth, grinding my teeth until I could trust that I would speak civilly to her. Turned out, it didn’t matter.

“Ana,” I began, raising my hands and speaking calmly, trying to soothe the irascible woman, “don’t you understand how this could be a problem?”

“It’s not,” she said haughtily, folding her arms across her chest after tossing the emerald into the water.

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging in frustration. “But Kelsey and Ren will—”

She cut me off. “I don’t want to hear another word about Kelsey.”

A hiss distracted me from our argument, and I turned to the river to see several creatures paying very close attention to everything we said. I lowered my voice, remembering how the demons had almost killed Kells. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Why should I? You clearly don’t listen to me! If you’d bother to ask nicely instead of making assumptions, I’d tell you why I did it. Not that it should matter. I would think I’d earned your trust by now.”

My dumbfounded expression should have said it all, but just in case, I said, “Of course I trust you. I trust you with anything, everything.”

“Not…everything. Not when it comes to Kelsey.”

Silence fell between us. Her chest was heaving with emotion, and other than the slap of the water on the riverbank, our breaths were all I could hear. There was more between us though. Things that weren’t being said. The invisible, intangible weight of what we weren’t saying flowed between us like smoke. It filled my lungs and demanded I acknowledge it.

“I…” I began, not knowing what I was going to say but letting the words rise like bubbles from somewhere deep inside, “I know you would never do anything to hurt Kelsey.”

Her eyes bored into me, searching desperately for something, and I could see the moment when she gave up looking for it. “Never mind,” she said, her whole body slumping in disappointment. “We should just finish the task.”

I didn’t like the finality in her voice or the way she trudged ahead of me down the path. In that moment, she looked every inch the young girl, cowering from the villain. There was no trace of the goddess, and I hated that I was the one who’d made her feel that way. Quietly, I described the crumbled fortress, the mango tree, the fountain, and the monkeys.

As we channeled the power of earth, mighty stone blocks rose from the soil, stacking one atop the other, until there was an ancient Indian citadel. The trees shook behind us and I recognized the hoot of monkeys. They’d responded to her call and the trees allowed them to pass so they might serve their goddess. She tasked them with guarding the precious Golden Fruit of India, and after they agreed to bow before both the goddess and her weapons, they took their places atop the fortress, turning to stone much as Fanindra now did to metal.

When we got to the fountain, she took the golden mango from her bag and placed it in a large planter that rose in the center. With a few murmured words from Ana, it sank beneath the soil, and within a matter of a few moments, a seedling sprouted. It grew before our eyes until it reached full height. Flowers bloomed and fruit grew. At the top, one special flower, shining brighter than the sun, blossomed and turned into the Golden Fruit.

“But won’t we need it?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not if we have the amulet. With this,” she said, lifting the medallion that hung around her neck, “we can draw upon the power of the Golden Fruit no matter where we are.”

“But how? It never worked that way before.”

“The fruit is a gift of Durga, is it not?”

“Yes, but—”

“My…my body has absorbed the power of the gifts. I no longer need the scarf or the fruit to work their magic.”

“When did this happen?” I asked.

“I noticed it a short time after we returned from the past. Our teacher suggested that it could be the result of young Fanindra’s bite coupled with my merging with my past self. He surmised that in some species, a newborn snake’s venom is much more powerful than an adult’s. I don’t know if that is the case with Fanindra but my powers have grown ever since.”

Ana turned away from me and I saw the proud stiffness of her shoulders. Even though she refused to open her mind to me, I knew the expanded powers she now possessed bothered her. She hadn’t wanted to tell me and it hurt knowing that she still didn’t trust me.

Stepping away, she said, “Regardless, the fruit has served its purpose for us. Now it will serve again.” She murmured some more words and then said, “There. It is done. When Ren and Kelsey pluck the fruit from the tree, you will both gain back six hours as men.”

We created the handprint and the riddle. Ana only left her hand beneath mine long enough to create the lock that would raise the tree. Concerned about Ren and Kelsey, I mentioned the attacks on them I’d witnessed before and asked if she could limit her creations even further so they wouldn’t be hurt. She touched her hand to the stone baboon head and said softly, “They survived. Didn’t they?”

“Yes, I suppose,” I said, remembering how I had helped them before. “But a goddess could surely do more to—”

“And what of my creatures?” she asked. “Do you have more concern for Kelsey than for these beings who willingly serve me?”

Folding my arms across my chest, I answered, “Frankly? Yes.”

Ana gave me a sharp look. Her eyes went glassy and dull. We both jerked our heads when we heard a booming crash on the far side of the monkey city. Without speaking, we headed in that direction.

Sighing, I reached out to touch her shoulder but she shrugged me off. “Ana, come on. We need to talk about what’s really bothering you.”

“No,” she answered. “We do not. If you continue to feel anxious over the girl who walked away from you, then you can return to help her without making me watch.” I didn’t bother to tell her I already had. It felt like the wrong time to bring it up. We found the source of the noise and saw that the drawbridge had fallen halfway down. Since we’d just created it, we were surprised.

As I examined it, she spoke, turned away, and trailing her finger over a broken hinge, she said, “If you had bothered to ask me why I filled the river with gems, I would have told you.” Ana’s back was stiff, the epitome of the unapproachable goddess. “Despite your suspicions,” she continued, “I did not do it to tempt Kelsey. If you must know, the Kappa are like dragons with a hoard of gold. The gemstones lull them, keep them dormant and quiet.”

“You could have told me,” I said.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Ana replied, her eyes hot and distant.

Not knowing what to say, I asked if she was going to fix the drawbridge. It was a bad choice on my part. Ana clutched the amulet and shifted us in time and space without even touching me. She was right that her power had grown. My stomach wrenched as we arrived at the next stop—the Shrine of Earth.