Page 135 of Tiger's Destiny
trading places
The wordRajaramhad barely escaped his lips when the Damon Amulet began to glow. The Sanskrit lettering seemed to float up from the stone, and the outer section of the disk started to spin. The words circled faster and faster until they became a solid white line.
“Now, use the power of Damon to bring life back to your brother,” Phet instructed.
“But how?” Kishan mumbled.
“The difficulty is not in the knowing; it’s in the choosing.”
Kishan closed his eyes and his body burned with a white energy. He gasped and trembled.
Alarmed, I asked desperately, “What’s happening to him? Is he in pain?”
Phet replied, “Kishan must choose whether or not to accept the price in order to save his brother.”
“A price? What price? Kishan, don’t do this. I can pay whatever price is necessary.”
Phet squeezed my arm. “This is something Kishan must choose, Kahl-see. This ishisdestiny.”
Kishan panted. Sweat trickled down his face. His head and arms jerked back violently, and he cried out.
“Kishan!” I started toward him, but Phet held me back and shook his head.
As Kishan writhed in pain and agony, a small light rose from his chest and headed for the fallen white tiger. As the bright beam passed by me, I swore I could see the Sanskrit symbols twisting and swirling in an arc around Ren. A thin mist materialized and hovered over Ren like a silky funeral shroud.
Suddenly the blanket of light melted into Ren’s body. Kishan stiffened and fell forward on his hands and knees, groaning, and breathing heavily. I threw my arms around Kishan’s trembling shoulders. As his chest rose and fell, I became aware of another chest moving.
The white tiger inhaled deeply, and Phet said, “Anamika, hurry. He must drink from thekamandal.”
She positioned herself at Ren’s side and dribbled the elixir into his mouth. The spear wounds on Ren’s body began to heal.
“Now, it’s your turn, Kahl-see. Heal him with your golden flame.”
“But . . .” I faltered. “I don’t have the fire amulet anymore.”
“The golden flame comes from inside you. It always has.”
Leaving Kishan for the moment and cradling the body of my white tiger, I channeled what was left of my energy into him. I sent him my thoughts, whispering to him in my mind and heart, willing him to live. I felt the warmth of the golden fire run through me. Ren’s body hummed in response.
Gaping wounds healed rapidly and within a few minutes he was able to roll toward me and sit up. As he huffed softly, I buried my face in the white fur of his neck and wrapped my arms around him. I cried with joy.
Ren shifted form and held me tightly against his body. Pressing his lips against my temple, he murmured words in Hindi as he stroked my back. Finally lifting his head, he asked, “How has this happened?”
Phet answered, “Your brother has made the necessary sacrifice,” Phet said somberly, and we all turned our attention to Kishan.
“What does he mean?” I asked.
Kishan cleared his throat. “It’s hard to explain. A life restored is no easy thing. To bring him back, I had to give up a part of myself.”
“I still don’t understand.” Reluctantly, I slid away from Ren and knelt at Phet’s feet.
“What did Kishan give up?” I asked.
Phet sighed, and said, “His immortality. Fortunately, he was strong enough to survive the process.”
He patted my hand as a tear dripped onto my cheek. “Do not fret, Kahl-see, Kishan will still live for a long, long time—much longer than several human life spans.”
I nodded and knelt by the man with the golden eyes, the man I had relied upon since leaving Oregon, the man who was in love with me. His elbows rested on his drawn up knees. Little tremors still shook his body and his breathing was shallow. When I touched his shoulder, he gave me a distracted smile.
