Page 20 of Tiger's Destiny
Mr. Kadam’s spirits seemed to lift a bit the closer we got to the temple. He was more distracted than usual, but he smiled often, and we talked of many things. I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed him until then.
The last part of our journey was a series of icy carved steps that led up to the cave. Though we’d been equipped with ice-climbing boots, I was glad to be able to lean onto Ren and Kishan for support.
We stopped briefly to catch our breath at the mouth of the cave and then moved through to the end of the one-hundred meter structure to the stone temple beyond the cave. The temple’s conical structure was similar to the Shore Temple. Its layers of thin stone were carved and notched, almost like a rock-climbing wall in a gym. The exterior was gray at the top and more sepia-colored near the doorway. The four of us stepped inside and began searching for the statue of Durga.
Though the outside of the temple was drab, the interior was bathed in color. Near an alcove on a dais stood the goddess we’d been seeking. This time the goddess was not carved of stone or even bronze but was made of wax.
Durga’s face and arms were painted an alabaster tint, and she wore a gown of heavy jeweled fabrics and garlands of silk roses, jasmine, and gardenias around her neck. Her hair, under a headpiece adorned with jewels, looked real. A rubybindirested between her arched brows and her golden nose ring and earrings gleamed with semiprecious stones. Behind her, the alcove was painted as red as her lips.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Kishan studied the statue for a moment and then answered, “She is.”
“So this is it,” I said calmly. “Mr. Kadam, are you sure we’re in the right place?”
Mr. Kadam smiled strangely. “Trust me. We are in the right place.”
“Okay, let’s give this a try.”
I asked Kishan for my backpack, and he helped me lay all of our offerings to Durga at the feet of the statue. Mr. Kadam had instructed us to bring a box of long matches, several fat candles, a few pieces of wood, some charcoal, a couple firecrackers, a lighter, and a string of very hot chilies. When it was time for me to brush the bells on my anklet, I discovered I couldn’t reach them. My many layers of clothes prevented me from bending over.
Kishan laughed heartily at my dilemma. Ren just growled softly, knelt at my ankle, and brushed his fingers across the bells. Then he stood and we joined hands.
Ren began our plea to Durga. “Today we seek your help on this, our last task. We have come to complete your fourth and final challenge and ask for your blessing that the path ahead may be smooth and our feet sure and steady.”
I added, “Please help us to have the wisdom and the skill to make it safely through this last part of our travels.”
When it was Kishan’s turn, he said, “And when all is said and done and we lay your four gifts at your feet, we ask for an opportunity for a new life in return.”
After a few seconds of silence, Kishan nudged Mr. Kadam, who had been staring absently at the floor.
“Oh, yes. I ask you to please watch over and protect my charges so that what is destined to be will come to pass.”
I turned and stared quizzically at Mr. Kadam, who merely shrugged his shoulders while Ren and Kishan changed into tigers.
What happened next scared me to death. The candles and matches burst into flame, the firecrackers exploded, and fire quickly spread around the dais and began licking the walls behind the Durga statue. From there, the blaze spread wall to wall, and we were soon encased in a box of fire.
Anything flammable was quickly consumed, but the four stone walls didn’t burn for long. Instead, the fire danced across the floor, burning moss and dust particles between the flat stones. In a snap, we were engulfed in a pillar of fire. Ren and Kishan turned back into men and tucked me between them, our backs to the encroaching circle.
I screamed when the tail of Ren’s shirt caught on fire, but Kishan quickly slapped the fire out. Smoke filled the room, and I buried my face into Ren’s shirt to stifle my coughs. Though a cold breeze blew through the room, it was still hot, hot enough that the wax effigy began to melt before our eyes. Her jeweled headdress turned into a pool of rainbow tears that slowly dripped down her beautiful face.
On the wall behind the figure, a handprint glowed red in the hot stone. Ren insisted on touching it first and burned himself. I asked the Pearl Necklace to cool it down and soon a curtain of cold water descended from the ceiling to meet the hot stone. At first, the water hissed and steamed, but within a few minutes, it slid over the stone smoothly and pooled on the temple floor.
I stepped forward, placed my hand into the hollowed-out print, and focused my energy. The henna design surfaced, and prickly heat tickled my palm.
Durga’s melted figure began to glow. Her hair burst into flame and stood out from her head like a fiery mane. Wax dripped off the figure to form a large puddle near her bare feet, leaving behind a beautiful woman who radiated the warmth of ten suns. Her skin was honey-caramel and her gown sunset-orange. She only had two arms, one adorned with a simple golden band, though the wax figure had boasted eight. With her eyes closed, she took a deep breath and smoothed her hands over her black, silky hair. The flames disappeared. The only jewelry she wore was the armband and a golden belt at her waist.
The goddess smiled at the four of us, and I heard the sound of tinkling bells as she spoke.
“It is good to see you all again.” Pointing to the floor, she laughed. “As you can see, your offerings have been accepted.” Durga waved her hand in a big arc, and the sooty walls and lumps of burned material disappeared.
A light squeeze on my arm reminded me that Fanindra was eager to see her mistress. Approaching the dais, I slid the jeweled cuff off my arm and handed her to Durga. The snake immediately animated, raised her head, and wrapped around Durga’s arm several times.
The goddess stroked Fanindra until Kishan cleared his throat. Without looking at him she sighed and censured, “You must learn to be patient where women and goddesses are concerned, my ebony one.”
Kishan quickly apologized, “Forgive me, Goddess,” and bowed chivalrously.
The ghost of a smile appeared on her face. “Learn to love the moment you are in. Treasure your experiences, for precious moments too quickly pass you by, and if you are always rushing toward the future, or pining for the past, you will forget to enjoy and appreciate the present.”
