Page 1 of Tiger's Tale
PROLOGUE
AS THE CALL, SO THE ECHO
The sounds of the forest should have comforted him, but he’d spent too many nights listening to the hum of insects, the croaking of frogs, and the death cries of small creatures being silenced by the larger creatures that pursued them. Occasionally, he was the thing that stalked them, that stuffed the gnawing hollowness in his belly with their pulsing life.
Hunting sated his hunger, but it couldn’t fill the emptiness that consumed his days. Without Ana, he couldn’t find purpose or meaning. She had been his anchor, and now he was adrift on an ocean alone. So many times he wished he could have followed her into death.
Outside he heard a rustle in the trees and the screech of a bird. Kishan covered his golden eyes with his arm, wishing he couldn’t see in the dark so well. His stomach rumbled. He’d have to hunt tomorrow.
Then again, he thought.Maybe not. “Can I even starve to death? Didn’t Ren try that once?” he asked out loud, though no one was there to hear his question. He couldn’t remember if it was true. Even if it was, it obviously hadn’t worked. Still, hunger pangs would give him something else to focus on. If he could just forget for a while, perhaps he could find a modicum of peace. For the first time in his incredibly long life, he felt...old.
There was a sudden rustle and a thump on the hut door. Kishan’s instincts caused him to spring to his feet immediately, but the moment the scent of the man on the other side of the door tickled his nostrils, his muscles relaxed, and his body slumped back on the too-small cot.
“Come in,” he said brusquely. Then, remembering his manners and his training of long, long ago, added a soft, “Please.”
“Hello, son,” Kadam said, as he entered the hut. His piercing gaze took in the scene. “How are you?” he asked politely, hearing only a tetchy rumble in response coming from beneath the worn blanket, as he drew the wooden chair up to the bed. Stooping to stoke the fire, the visitor then tugged a neglected bundle of tied herbs down from the rafter and began sorting them for a pot of tea. “I see you’ve been disregarding the care of my hut.”
“Your hut?” Kishan grumbled. “I believe I’ve lived here longer than you have.”
Kadam’s eyes twinkled in the dark as he ladled water into his favorite mug and replied cryptically, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
He carried the mug to Kishan, blowing steam away from the brim. “I suppose it depends on your perspective. Now, why don’t you sit up for a while, son, and drink this. I promise you’ll feel better.”
“I really don’t think that’s possible,” he replied, but sat up obediently. Kadam fluffed the meager pillow while Kishan sniffed the contents of the mug, grimacing. Reluctantly, he sipped. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and chest. “Why am I so hot?”
“The medicine is burning the sickness out of you.”
“I didn’t realize I was ill.”
“Yes. You’ll get over it, of course. Even without my special concoction. The amulet strengthens you and grants you long life.”
Kishan set down the mug and said soberly, “I wish it wouldn’t.”
“I know, son. You miss her. But it’s not your time. Not yet. You still have work to do.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
Kishan picked up his drink and swirled the contents slowly, staring deeply into the cup.
“You want to ask me something,” Kadam said astutely. “Go ahead.”
The corner of Kishan’s mouth lifted briefly, but his sadness tugged it down almost immediately. “You’ve always been able to read me,” he said, then admitted softly, “I... I’m afraid of the answer.”
Kadam shrugged. “I’ve never known you to be cowardly. Ask anyway.”
Letting out an almost painful sigh, Kishan asked, “Will I see Ana again?” Before Kadam could reply, Kishan held up a hand. “I already know what you’re going to say. You can’t tell me, right? Or, you don’t know. You aren’t back from the dead. You haven’t technically died yet.”
Smiling, Kadam clapped Kishan on the shoulder and squeezed. “While that last part is true, what I can tell you is this...” Leaning closer, he peered directly into Kishan’s golden eyes. “You absolutelywillbe seeing Anamika again in your future. I guarantee it.”
Kishan blinked once, twice, three times, and then seeing that his mentor was perfectly sincere, released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He grunted, lifted the cup to his lips, and quickly downed the rest of the bitter brew before settling back down on the pillow and closing his eyes. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.
“You’re welcome.” Standing, Kadam took the mug, rinsed it out, dried it, and replaced it on the little wooden shelf. “Just keep in mind that seeing your wife again may or may not be the reunion you have in mind at present. Not everything comes easily when you walk through time as we do.”
“I know. But I don’t care. Just knowing there’s a future where she exists is all that matters to me. It’s enough.”
“Good. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”
