Page 129 of Tiger's Quest
“What?”
“Shut up and get the Scarf.”
“I’m working on it!”
I stretched farther and heard Kishan groan. “Just another few inches.”
His grip slipped deliberately from my calf to my ankle, causing me to swing out over the green abyss.
Frightened, I yelled Kishan’s name and closed my eyes for a second, swallowed, and swung my body back toward the Scarf. The wind whipped it off the branch. It swirled in the air and shot past me. I grabbed the tail of it at the last second—hanging upside down, blood pounding in my head, the tips of my fingers desperately grasping the Scarf, with Kishan barely holding on for both of us—and had a vision.
The green canopy dizzily swinging back and forth in front of my eyes faded to white, and I heard a voice.
“Kelsey. Miss Kelsey! Can you hear me?”
“Mr. Kadam? Yes, I can hear you!”
I saw the vague outline of a tent behind him. “I can see your tent!”
“And I can see you and Kishan.”
“What?” I looked behind me and saw a blurred image of Kishan clutching the leg of my upside-down limp body. The Scarf dangled precariously from a hooked finger. I heard him shouting as if from a great distance.
“Kelsey! Hold on!”
The vague outline of another person was coming into view.
Mr. Kadam instructed, “Don’t say anything. Don’t let him provoke you into speaking. Just pay attention to every detail—anything could help us find Ren.”
“Okay.”
Mr. Kadam’s medallion was glowing red. I glanced at mine and saw it was bright red too. When I looked back up, the image of the other person solidified.
Lokesh. He was dressed in a business suit. His dark hair was slicked back, and I noticed that he wore several rings. His medallion was also glowing red and was much larger than ours.
His deceitful eyes glittered when he smiled.
“Ah! I’ve been wondering when I’d see you again.” He spoke politely as if we were getting reacquainted at an afternoon tea party. “You have cost me a great deal in time and resources, my dear.”
I watched him silently and flinched as he appraised me in a disturbing way.
Lokesh spoke quietly, menacingly, “We’ve not the time for thenicetiesof the game I would prefer, so I’ll be blunt. I want the medallion you’re wearing. You will bring it to me. If you do, I will let your tiger live. If you don’t . . .” He took a knife out of his pocket and tested its sharpness on a thumb. “I will find you, slit your throat . . .” He looked directly into my eyes to conclude his threat, “andtake itfrom your bloody neck.”
Mr. Kadam countered, “Leave the young lady out of this. I will meet you and give you what you want. In exchange, you will let the tiger go free.”
Lokesh turned to Mr. Kadam and smiled unpleasantly. “I do not recognize you,my friend. I am interested to know how you acquired the amulet. If you wish to negotiate, you may contact my business office in Mumbai.”
“And which office would that be,my friend?”
“Find the tallest building in Mumbai; my office is the penthouse.”
Mr. Kadam nodded as Lokesh continued to give instructions. As they talked, I studied the hazy scene that had appeared behind Lokesh. I memorized as many details as I could. A man was speaking to him, but Lokesh paid him no heed.
The servant behind Lokesh had black hair that was swept forward into a bun resting just above the top of his hairline. Across the length of his forehead, he had a line of black tattoos that looked like the Sanskrit words from the prophecy. Bare-chested, the man wore loops of handmade bead necklaces. His ears were pierced in several places with golden hoops. He was also pulling along another man and gestured to him.
The second man stood farther back with his head hanging down. Matted, filthy black hair hung in his face. Bleeding and bruised, he struggled against the hands of the man holding him. The servant yelled and yanked the man forward until he staggered and fell to his knees. Then he slapped him across the face and yanked his shoulders back. As the injured man looked up, his hair fell to the side, and I gazed into piercing cobalt blue eyes.
Overcome with emotion, I took a step forward and shouted, “Ren!”
