Page 77 of Tiger's Quest
“If Ieverbecome bored,” I said with a laugh, “I’ll let you know.”
Kishan grinned and used my comment as an excuse to put his arm around my shoulders and stroke my bare arm. “I can guarantee that I’d never bore you either,” he teased.
It felt nice,too nice. I guiltily overreacted, squirmed under his heavy arm, and tried to push it off. “Sheesh! Take liberties much? Ever heard ofaskinga girl first?”
Kishan leaned over and spoke softly, “Deal with it.”
I scowled at him. Then I concentrated on our tour.
We spent all afternoon familiarizing ourselves with the area and made plans to return to the temple at dusk the next evening. Mr. Kadam had either pulled strings or used his vast pocketbook to get us in alone after closing.
Streaks of color washed over the darkening sky as we arrived back at the temple. Mr. Kadam walked with us to the front steps and handed me a backpack full of various items to be used for an offering. It was filled with different objects related to air: various types of bird feathers, a Chinese fan, a kite’s tail, a helium-filled balloon, a wooden flute, a plastic airplane that flew on rubber band power, a tiny barometer, a toy sailboat, and a small prism that transformed light into rainbows. We’d also included a couple pieces of fruit for good luck.
Mr. Kadam handed me Fanindra, who I slid up my arm. She had twisted into armband position so I could wear her, which I took to be a sign she wanted to come along. Kishan and I climbed the stone steps that led to the center of the temple. We passed between the stone elephant guardians and then the pair of lions. The statue of Durga could be seen from the street in an alcove high above us. I was worried that if she came to life like the last time, someone walking on the brick streets would see her.
Silently, Kishan and I walked behind the building, around the stone porch surrounded by pillars, and found the circular stairs leading to the top of the temple. He reached out for my hand. It was dark and cool inside. The street lanterns from the square eerily lit the hallway leading to the statue. Kishan walked beside me as quiet, dark, and cool as the temple surrounding us. I liked Kishan a lot, but I missed the light and warmth that always seemed to surround Ren.
We entered a small room and stood before a stone wall. I knew the statue of Durga was on the other side, lit up from the streetlights below. The statue was set back about two feet from the outer wall of the temple, and we could stand on either side of it and still be hidden in the shadows.
“Okay, what we did last time was make an offering, ring a bell, ask for wisdom and guidance, and then Ren changed to a tiger. That’s what seemed to work.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
We pulled out all of our air offerings and placed them at the feet of the statue before moving back into the shadows. I lifted my ankle, brushed my fingers across the tinkling bells, and smiled as I thought of Ren.
We moved back from the wall, and Kishan reached for my hand again. I was grateful for his steadiness. Even though I had already seen a stone statue come to life once before, I was still nervous.
“I’ll say something first and then it’ll be your turn.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand.
“Great Goddess Durga, we come seeking your help once again. I ask your blessing as we go in search of the next prize that will help these two princes. Will you grant us your aid and share your wisdom?” I turned to Kishan and nodded my head.
Kishan stood quietly for a moment and then spoke, “I . . . don’t deserve a blessing.” He glanced at me and sighed unhappily before continuing. “What happened is my fault, but I ask you to help my brother. Keep him safe . . . forher. Help me protect her on this journey and keep her out of harm’s way.”
He looked at me for acceptance. I leaned up on my tiptoes, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now, become a tiger.”
He changed into his tiger form, his dark fur almost disappearing in the shadowy room. A stiff, cold wind ripped through the building and rushed up the stairs. My long-sleeved shirt billowed around me. I dug my hand into the scruff of Kishan’s neck and shouted over the noise of the wind, “This is the scary part!”
The wind swirled dust and sand around us in a cyclone as years of grit blew out of cracks and off the floors. I squinted and covered my mouth and nose with my sleeve. Kishan nudged me back to a corner of the room, sheltering me from the powerful gusts of wind near the open windows of the temple.
I was trapped between him and the wall, which was good because he had to dig his claws in the floor to remain standing. He pressed his body against me. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around Kishan’s neck, burying my face in his fur.
Carvings that had been muted with a covering of dust began to appear. The wind and sand polished the floor until it looked like marble. I put one arm around a pillar to anchor myself and the other around Kishan.
After a while, the wind died down, and I opened my eyes. The room looked dramatically different. Stripped of grime and years of dust, the temple was beautifully glistening. The rising moon cast its light into the room, illuminating it, so that it appeared ethereal and dreamlike. On the back wall behind the statue of Durga, a familiar handprint had appeared. Kishan changed to a man and stood beside me.
He asked, “What happens next?”
“Come on and watch.”
I pulled him after me, placed my hand into the print, and let the energy crackle down my arm and into the wall. A rumbling shook the wall, which made us step away. The wall rotated until it had spun 180 degrees. We were now facing the statue of Durga.
This version of Durga was similar to the other statue I had seen. Her many arms were spread out in a fan around her, and her tiger sat at her feet. There was no boar this time. I heard the sweet tinkling of bells and a beautiful voice said, “Greetings, young one. Your offerings have been accepted.”
