Page 141 of Tiger's Quest
I’d meant it to be brief, but he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I disentangled myself ungracefully, replaced my glove, and stepped through the gate into a sunny day on Mount Everest. My winter boots crunched on the white sparkling snow as Kishan stepped through and changed into the black tiger.
23
Going Home
After we passed through the gate, I turned to watch the land of Shangri-la vanish in a swirl of color. The red light that pulsed in the handprint faded, and the spirit gate returned to its former appearance— two tall wooden poles with long strings of prayer flags blowing in the breeze.
I blinked several times and rubbed my eyes lightly. Something was sticking to my lashes. I carefully peeled away a transparent green film, which had slipped off each eye like a pair of contact lenses.
Kishan appeared to be stuck in tiger form and probably would be for a while like Ren had been after Kishkindha. He blinked his eyes at me, and I could see the green film peeling away from one eye.
“Hold very still. I’ve got to get this out or it will bother you the whole way.”
I lifted the film off one eye and then the other. It took a long time, but I was proud I could do it at all. The Ocean Teacher had said that as we exited Shangri-la the scales would fall from our eyes, and we could see the real world again. I didn’t expect his words would be this literal.
I adjusted the backpack over my shoulders and began the steep descent back to Mr. Kadam’s camp. The sun was shining, but it was still cold. I felt the same burning energy pushing me forward. I wouldn’t stop to rest, though Kishan clearly wanted me to. I encouraged him to keep going and stopped only when it was too dark to see the landscape.
Since Hugin had helped me get my thoughtsunstuck, my mind had become limpid, clear. I calculated and devised a plan. I knew how to save Ren. The only thing I didn’t know waswhereto find him. I hoped that Mr. Kadam would know something about the culture or the whereabouts of the people we had seen in the vision.
The physical features I’d taken note of might not be enough for him to go on, but it was all we had. If anyone could figure out where to begin searching, it was Mr. Kadam. I also hoped that time had stood still, or at least slowed, while we were in Shangri-la. I was sure that Ren would be tormented every moment he was with Lokesh. It was unbearable thinking of him being in pain at all, let alone for the many days we’d spent in the world beyond the spirit gate.
I lay awake in our tent that night for a long while thinking about my strategy and analyzing it from as many angles as I could. I would not allow Lokesh to take anyone else. There would be no trades for Ren. We were going to save him and all of us would be going home.
The next morning, Kishan woke and changed to a man. I quickly had snow gear made for him, and he dressed in the tent while I got some breakfast together. He soon joined me dressed in his new clothes: a rust colored base-layer shirt that fit tightly under a black waterproof jacket, black pants with elastic cuffs, warm insulated gloves, thick wool socks, and snow boots. I appraised his appearance and congratulated myself on doing a good job.
We discovered that recovering the Scarf had given Kishan another six hours of freedom from his tiger self. We were now halfway finished with our quest. The tigers could take human form for twelve hours of the day.
Though I was in a hurry, Kishan reminded me that it would take us at least two full days to hike down the mountain. When we made camp the second night, I decided it was time to talk to him about my rescue plan and show him what else the Scarf could do.
After we’d settled in our tent, conveniently made by the Scarf, I unzipped my sleeping bag and spread it on the floor. I encouraged him to sit across from me, before I picked up the Scarf.
“Okay, the Scarf can do several things. It can become or create anything made of fabric or natural fibers. It doesn’t have to reabsorb what it creates. It can, but it can also leave the thing behind, and then the creation loses the magic of the cloth. The Scarf can also be shaped to gather the winds like in the story of the Japanese god ’s bag. The third thing it can be used for is . . . changing appearance.”
“Changing appearance? What do you mean?”
“Umm, how do I describe it? Have you ever seen a magician pull a rabbit out of a hat or change a bird into a feather?”
“We did have magicians come to court occasionally. One of them changed a mouse to a dog.”
“Yes! It’s similar to that. It’s an illusion. A trick done with light and mirrors, sort of.”
“How does that work?”
“Remember the Divine Weaver said there was power in the weaving? It not only creates the clothes of that person, but it can make you look like him or her as well. The key is, you have to be specific and capture in your mind exactly who you want to look like. I’m going to try it. Watch and tell me if it works.”
I said, “Disguise, please—Nilima.”
The Scarf grew into a long piece of sparkly black fabric with colors swirling quickly through the entire piece. It glittered as if embellished with jeweled sequins that surfaced briefly and then disappeared. Light reflected and moved around the tent like thousands of prisms shooting rainbows in every direction.
I wrapped the fabric around my body and covered my entire frame, including my hair and face. My skin became warm and tingly. The swirling colors were iridescent and lit the dark small space in which I sat wrapped inside the warm blanket the Scarf had become. It was like watching my own personal laser light show. When the glow diminished, I unwrapped myself and looked at Kishan.
“Well?”
His mouth opened in shock. “Kells?”
“Yep.”
“You . . . you evensoundlike Nilima. You’re dressed like her.”
