I stifled a laugh and imagined how she would be utterly mortified to have me tease her about snoring and would likely zap me with a lightning bolt if she ever found me hovering over her as she slept. Still, I had to give the woman credit. The dark circles under her eyes were plain to see. Anamika was a perfect goddess. She worked hard, she loved her people, and she had a soft heart.
Gently, I shook her shoulder, hoping she’d been sleeping long enough. She moaned quietly in protest. I shook harder. “Ana. Anamika, you need to wake up.”
“Go away,” she mumbled.
“No.”
“Why must you always bother me when I’m attempting to relax?” she said with her eyes closed.
“I live to annoy you,” I replied.
“How lucky for me.”
She rolled to a sitting position, though her eyes were still closed, and smoothed a hand over her messy hair, mussing it even further. A far cry from the perfect image she preferred in public. I smiled, thinking she looked endearing and vulnerable, like a little girl. Then my thoughts turned to another little girl, one I’d left alone by the side of a wrecked car.
“Come on,” I said. “Get dressed. Kadam needs to see us.”
“Kadam? Who is that? A king?”
“No, he’s not a king, he’s…he needs to explain it to you himself.”
“Very well.” She rose, stumbled slightly, and poked her finger into my chest. “But after this, you’re going to let me sleep.”
I took her hand, effectively pushing her poking finger away from my chest, and wrapped her fingers around her hairbrush. “Here. You may want to do something about that Stymphalian-sized bird’s nest on top of your head. Get dressed. I’ll wait for you outside.”
I’d just closed the door behind me when I heard the hairbrush hit the back of the door. For some reason her reaction made me laugh. I was still laughing when the door opened a few moments later and I was greeted by an alert, vengeful woman with flashing eyes and full lips narrowed in a frown.
“Am I presentable enough for you now?” she hissed.
I rubbed my jaw as if considering her appearance. “I suppose. Though your hair is not as shiny as it could be.”
She angrily worked a muscle in her jaw. I wasn’t sure why I found such delight in disturbing her. The truth was that I’d never seen hair so shiny. The thick waves of it fell in such a way that it tempted me constantly. I wanted to run my hands through the silky strands.
When we entered the throne room, we found Kadam pacing.
“Ah, there you are, my dear.”
He took her hands and kissed each one.
Anamika smiled graciously but took a step back closer to me; in fact, she was so close I wrapped my hands around her upper arms and leaned down to whisper, “He won’t hurt you.”
She stiffened and wrenched her body away. “I am not afraid of him.” With a kind gesture, she directed him toward the throne, where she normally sat. “Would you like to sit, my friend?”
Kadam smiled and said, “No. Thank you. But perhaps you’d better take the seat.”
Puzzled, Anamika lowered her body onto the throne, and I took a place beside her as Kadam addressed us.
Kadam rubbed his hands together and paced for a moment, glancing up at us at each turn. Finally, he stopped and held out his hands. “Perhaps I should first introduce myself. My name is Anik Kadam. I am the man-at-arms who once served the house of Rajaram.”
Anamika flashed me a look of shock. “But you…you’re dead. Kishan and Kelsey spoke of you.”
“I am not dead…yet. But I will perish soon.”
“I don’t understand,” Anamika said.
“You are aware that the Rope of Fire and the Damon Amulet have the ability to allow their user to travel in time and space?” Anamika nodded. “This is how I have come to you now. I am alive in my time and am visiting with you prior to my death.”
“I see. Go on.”
Anamika was taking to this time travel business a lot faster than I had.
Kadam continued, “Though you haven’t met me in this form, you know me in another.”
Drawing her eyebrows together, Anamika frowned. “What other form?” she asked.
“I was your teacher, my dear child.”
In her native language, Kadam spoke of a memorable lesson. “You fell from a rather skittish colt once and vowed you’d never ride him again. Do you remember?”
Anamika furrowed her brow, nodded, and said, “My teacher soothed him as if by magic, convinced me to climb up on his back again, and guided him around until I was comfortable.” Sitting forward, she asked, “How do you know this? You look nothing like my teacher. What you say isn’t possible.”
“It is possible, with this.” He took the scarf from his neck, and it twisted and turned until it became its natural form.
Anamika stood immediately. “Did you steal this from us? You must have entered my room when I was sleeping, for I left it there!”
Kadam reassured, “And if you returned there now, you would find it in the place you last saw it. This Divine Scarf I have borrowed from my time, and many times I have used it and will use it to assume the role of Phet, your teacher.”
“Will use it?” I asked.
He nodded gravely. “There is still much work to be done, and I will need the both of you to help me accomplish it.”
Anamika looked to me for guidance. “Is he the man he says he is?” she asked.
“He is. Though we may have differing opinions about the work he intends to give us.”
After a brief moment of scrutiny, Anamika sighed and then said, “I learned as a young woman to trust my teacher. He always seemed to know things before they happened.” She glanced up at me and then added, “We will do whatever is required of us.”
When I merely grunted, Kadam favored me with a sparkling gleam in his eye. I knew that look. He was pleased that we’d accepted a challenge. He’d worn a similar expression when I’d been particularly stubborn in weapons training as a young boy.
Kadam bowed to Anamika and, smiling warmly, said, “An open mind and a willing heart are the beginning of many a great adventure. Let’s get started.”
Chapter 4
Tokyo
Anamika gripped the arms of the pink diamond throne, her tension unnoticeable to anyone but me. I put my hand on her shoulder and tried to send her some soothing energy.
Kadam began hesitantly, “I’m not sure exactly where I should start.”
“Perhaps you should begin at the beginning,” Anamika teased lightly, but I still heard the gravity behind her light tone.
“Yes. Well, that’s the thing. There is no beginning. The timeline twists and turns, arching back on itself like a great ring. I only know where there are missing fragments waiting to be filled—what must be done to complete the circle.”
“Then tell us what must be done,” said Anamika quietly.
Kadam shifted and wrung the Divine Scarf in his hands. The colors of the scarf moved as swirls of black stole through the magical fabric.
When he raised his head, he looked at me and said quietly, “You must create the curse.”
My heart stilled at his words.
Anamika asked, “What do you mean by ‘create’ it?”
Kadam explained, “The curse that changed Kishan and Ren into tigers was not caused by Lokesh. The two of you did it.”
When Anamika began to ask how, I overrode her and demanded, “Why?”
Sighing, Kadam pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “There is not one part of this that the two of you didn’t have your hands in. When we visited the temples of Durga, the two of you were there. When Ren and Kishan were changed into tigers, it was you who caused it. The gifts of Durga found in the realms of Shangri-La, Kishkindha, the City of Lights, and the Seven Pagodas were all hidden there by…you.”
Anamika was rendered speechless and I also reeled from Kadam’s words.
Stammering, I muttered, “Are you saying that we brought this upon ourselves? That we caused the curse?”
“Caused is the wrong word. It’s more like…you orchestrated it,” Kadam said.
What insanity has gripped his mind? We orchestrated the curse? What purpose would we have in doing that? Wasn’t it enough that I sacrificed the life I wanted with the girl I loved to play the role of Durga’s tiger? Is this the universe’s way of paying me back? Not only take away what I want the most but make me be the one to cause my own problems?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Kadam said.
Doubtful.