Page 98 of Tiger's Quest
I kept my hand pressed against the wood but nothing happened. I tried to summon the fire in my belly, the spark that made my hand glow, but I felt deadened.
“Kishan . . . I . . . c . . . can’t. I’m too . . . c . . . cold.” I felt like crying.
He took off his gloves, unzipped his jacket, tore his shirt underneath, and put my frozen hand against his bare chest, covering the back of it with his own warm hand. His chest was hot. He pressed his warm cheek against my cold one and rubbed the back of my hand with his palm for a few minutes. He spoke, but I didn’t understand his words. He shifted to protect me from the wind, and I almost fell asleep as he held me in the warm cocoon he’d created. Finally, he pulled back a little and said, “There, that’s better. Now, try again.”
He helped me angle my hand. I felt a small spark of tingly warmth and urged it to build. The power was slow and lethargic, but it did build until the handprint glowed. The pole shook and began to glow too. Something happened to my eyes. A green sheen fell across my vision like I’d put on a pair of green-tinted sunglasses. It made the glow from my hand look bright orange, and the orange traveled from one pole across the fabric tail to the other pole.
The ground shook, and we were enveloped in a bubble of warmth. Too weak to continue, my hand slipped out, and I fell back against Kishan, who scooped me up in his arms again. A little bubble of static formed between the two poles and grew larger. Colors shifted inside the bubble, which were too vague and fuzzy to make out at first, but they grew bigger and started to come into focus. I heard a boom, and the picture snapped into place.
I saw green grass and a warm yellow sun. Herds of animals grazed lazily beneath leafy summer trees. Where we stood I could smell the scent of flowers and feel the sun warm my face, yet the wintry sleet still fell across my cheek. Kishan took a step forward, and another. He carried me into the warm paradise. My head lolled against his arm as I listened to the sound of the storm fade. The cold air grew more distant and then left with apop. That’s when I fainted.
18
Good Things
Iwoke near a crackling fire at dawn. Kishan was warming his hands.
I shifted and groaned, “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. How do you feel?”
“Umm . . . I’m feeling better actually.”
He grunted. “You started healing as soon as we entered this place.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About twelve hours. You healed here almost as fast as Ren and I do outside.”
I stretched my legs and was relieved. The pain was bad, but an infection was worse. I had been sort of counting on Kishan’s amulet to fix me, but it wasn’t working like Mr. Kadam had said. Maybe Kishan’s piece did something different. I’d gotten lucky.
“I’m starving. What’s for breakfast?” I asked.
“What would you like?”
“Hmm . . . how about some chocolate chip pancakes with a tall glass of milk.”
“Sounds good. I’ll have the same thing.”
Kishan asked the Golden Fruit to make our meal, and he hunkered down next to me to eat. I was still feeling weak and when he pulled me closer so I could lean against him, I didn’t protest. Instead, I dug happily into my pancakes.
“So, Kishan, where are we?”
“Not sure. About a mile past the spirit gate.”
“You carried me through?”
“Yes.” He set down his plate and put his arm around me. “I was afraid you would die.”
“Apparently my coming back from the dead is a common theme in these mythical cities.”
“I hope this is the last time you come close.”
“Me too. Thanks. For everything.”
“You’re welcome. By the way, it seems I can maintain human form here like Ren did in Kishkindha.”
“Really? How does it feel?”
