Tiger's Curse (39 page)

The statues were crouched down with hands touching the ground. Teeth were bared, and I could visualize them hissing, as if ready to pounce. Their tails curled up over their bodies, fleshy levers to increase the range of their attack. Under the pedestals, groups of evil-looking stone monkeys stared out of the shadows with grimaces and hollowed black eyes. Their long arms were stretched out, as if to grab and claw at whoever passed by.

Stone steps led up to the reflecting pool. We climbed up and peered into the water. With relief, I saw that no Kappa were lurking in the murky depths. At the edge of the pool on the stone border was an inscription.

“Can you read it?” I asked.

“It says
Niyuj Kapi
or ‘choose the monkey.’”

“Hmm.”

We walked around the four corners examining each statue. One had ears pricked forward and another had ears flat against its head. All four were of different species.

“Ren, Hanuman was half-man, half-monkey, right? What kind of monkey was the monkey half?”

“I don’t know. Mr. Kadam would know. I can tell you that these two statues are not monkeys native to India. This one’s a spider monkey. They come from South America. This one is a chimpanzee, which is technically an ape, not a monkey. They’re often classified as monkeys because of their size.”

I gaped at him. “How do you know so much about monkeys?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Ah, so am I to assume that talking about monkeys is an approved topic of conversation? Perhaps if I were a monkey instead of a tiger you might clue me in as to why you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you. I just need some space. It has nothing to do with your species. It has to do with other things.”

“What other things?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“It can’t
be
anything.”

“What can’t
be
anything?”

“Can we just get back to the monkeys?” I yelled.

“Fine!” he hollered back.

We stood there glaring at each other for a minute, both of us frustrated and angry. He went back to examining the various monkeys and ticking off a list of their traits.

Before I could stop myself, I shot off a sarcastic, “I had no idea that I was walking with a monkey expert, but, then again, you have eaten them right? So I guess that would be the difference between say, pork and chicken, to someone like me.”

Ren scowled at me. “I lived in zoos and circuses for centuries, remember? And I don’t . . . eat . . . monkeys!”

“Hmm.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared back at him. He threw me a look and then stomped over and crouched in front of another statue.

Irritated, he spat out, “That one’s a macaque, which is native to India, and this hairy one is a baboon, also found here.”

“So which one do I pick? It has to be one of the last two. The other two monkeys aren’t from around here, so I’d guess one of these is right.”

He ignored me, probably still offended, and he was looking at the monkey clusters under the pedestal when I declared, “Baboon.”

He stood up. “Why choose him?”

“His face reminds me of the statue of Hanuman.”

“Okay, so give it a try.”

“Give what a try?”

He lost patience. “I don’t know! Do that thing you do, with your hand.”

“I’m not sure it works that way.”

He gestured to the monkey. “Okay, then rub his head like a Buddha statue. We’ve got to figure out the next step.”

I frowned at Ren, who was definitely frustrated with me, and then walked up to the baboon statue and tentatively touched its head. Nothing happened. I patted its cheeks, rubbed its belly, and tugged on its arms, its tail . . . nothing. I was squeezing its shoulders when I felt the statue move a bit. I pushed on one of the shoulders, and the top of the pedestal moved aside to reveal a stone box with a lever. I reached in and pulled on the lever. At first, nothing moved. Then I felt my hand grow hot. The symbols drawn into my hand boldly resurfaced, and the lever shifted, rose up, twisted, and popped out.

Rumbling shook the ground, and the water in the pool started to drain. Ren grabbed my arms and quickly yanked me against his chest while swiftly backing us away from the pool. He rested his hands on my upper arms while we watched the shifting stone.

The rectangular pool cracked and divided in two. Both halves began moving in opposite directions. The water spilled out and fell below, splashing against rock and stone as it tumbled into a gaping hole that opened up where the pool used to be.

Something began to emerge. At first, I thought it was just a reflection of light on the shiny wet stone, but the light grew increasingly brighter until I saw a branch poke out of the hole. It was covered with sparkling golden leaves. More branches emerged and then a trunk. It kept rising until the entire tree was standing before us. The leaves were shimmering, radiating a soft yellow light as if thousands of golden Christmas tree bulbs were threaded through the branches. The golden leaves quivered, as if a slight breeze shook the tree.

The tree was about twelve feet tall and covered with small white flowers that released a sweet fragrance. The leaves were long and thin, attached to delicate branches that led to thick, stronger ones and from there to a sturdy, compact trunk. The trunk sat in a large stone box that had ascended on a solid stone base. It was the most beautiful tree I’d ever seen.

Ren took my hand and led me cautiously toward the tree. He stretched out a hand to finger a golden leaf.

“It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed.

He plucked a flower and smelled it. “It’s a mango tree.”

We both admired the tree. I was sure my face was as awestruck as his.

Ren’s expression softened. He took a step toward me and lifted his hand to tuck the flower in my hair. I turned away from him, pretending not to see, and fingered a golden leaf.

When I glanced at him a moment later, his expression was stony and the white flower lay crushed and broken. My heart throbbed painfully when I saw the beautiful petals lying torn and forsaken in the dirt.

We walked around the base of the tree, examining it from all angles. Ren shouted, “There! Do you see up at the top? It’s a golden fruit!”

“Where?”

He pointed to the top of the tree and, sure enough, a golden orb swung softly from a branch.

“A mango fruit,” he mumbled. “Of course. It makes sense.”

“Why?”

“Mangoes are one of the main exports of India. It’s a staple for our country. It’s possibly the most important natural resource we have. So the Golden Fruit of India is a mango. I should have guessed it before.”

I gazed up at the tall branches. “How are we going to reach it?”

“What do you mean, ‘How are we going to reach it?’ Climb up on my shoulders. We need to do this together.”

I laughed. “Uh, Ren, I think you’d better come up with another plan. Like maybe leap up as you super-tigers do and catch it in your mouth or something.”

He smiled at me malevolently. “No. You,” he touched my nose with his finger, “are going to sit on my shoulders.”

I moaned, “Please stop saying that.”

“Come here. I’ll talk you through it. It’s child’s play.”

He picked me up and set me on the stone edge of the reflecting pool. Then he spun around with his back to me. “Okay, climb on.”

He held out his hands. I tentatively grabbed them and swung one leg over his shoulder, complaining the entire time. I almost lifted my leg back off, but he anticipated that I would chicken out and reached back with his arm to grab my other leg and hoist me up before I could retreat.

After I yelled at him to no effect, he held my hands and, easily balancing my weight, walked back to the tree. He took his time looking for the right place and then began instructing me.

“See that thick branch right above your head?”

“Yes.”

“Let go of one of my hands and reach up to grab it.”

I did and threatened, “Don’t drop me!”

He bragged, “Kelsey, there is absolutely
no
danger of me dropping you.”

I grabbed the branch and clung to it.

“Good. Now reach up with your other hand and grab the same branch. I’ll be holding your legs, don’t worry.”

I reached up and got a good hold of the branch, but my palms were sweaty, and if he hadn’t been supporting me, I was sure I would have fallen.

“Hey, Ren, this was a great idea and all, but I’m still a good foot or two away from the fruit. What do you expect me to do now?”

In response, he laughed and said, “Hold on a sec.”

“What do you mean, ‘hold on a sec’?”

He yanked my tennis shoes off my feet and then said, “Hold on to the branch and stand up.”

Frightened, I yelped and strangled the branch for dear life. Ren was pushing me up above the branch even higher. I glanced down and saw he was cupping my feet in his hands, supporting my entire body weight with his arms alone.

I hissed, “Ren, are you crazy? I’m too heavy for you.”

He scoffed drolly, “Obviously not, Kelsey. Now pay attention. Keep your hold on the branch, and I want you to step from my hand to my shoulder, first one foot, and then the other.”

He lifted my right leg first, and I felt my heel bump against his upper arm. Carefully, I shifted my foot to rest it on his wide shoulder, and then did the same with the other one. I looked at the fruit, which was now hanging directly across from me and bouncing slightly up and down.

“Okay, I’m going to try and grab the fruit now. Hold on.”

His hands had moved to the back of my calves, and he squeezed them tightly. I pushed off from the branch, which was now at my waist, and stretched my arm to reach the bobbing fruit. It was attached to a long, woody stem that shot off from the top of the tree.

My fingers grazed it, and it shifted away from me for a moment. When it swung back to me, I wrapped my hand around it and pulled gently.

It didn’t want to move. I tugged a bit harder, careful not to damage the golden fruit. Surprisingly, it felt like a real mango with leathery smooth skin, even though it twinkled with dazzling golden light. I braced my body on the branch again, yanked firmly, and was finally able to pluck it from the stem.

All at once, my body iced over and became rigid, and my mind was carried away in a black vision. A burning heat seared my chest, and I stood in complete darkness. A ghostly figure started making its way toward me. The misty features swirled around a shape and solidified into a form. It was Mr. Kadam! He was clutching at his chest. When he removed his hand, I saw the amulet he was wearing was glowing red hot. I looked down and saw mine too, glowing in the same manner. I tried to reach out to him, and I spoke, but he couldn’t seem to hear me or I him.

Another ghostly figure swirled up across from us and slowly took form. He was gripping a large amulet as well. When he became alert, he turned his eyes to Mr. Kadam. Immediately, he focused his attention on the amulet Mr. Kadam was wearing.

The man was dressed in expensive, modern clothing. His quick eyes showed intelligence, confidence, determination, and something else, something dark, something . . . evil. He tried to take a step forward, but a barrier of some kind prevented any of us from moving.

His expression tightened and twisted into a vile rage that, though quickly suppressed, continued to swirl like a stalking beast behind his eyes. Black, desperate fear congealed in my stomach as the man turned his attention to me. He clearly wanted something.

His eyes examined me carefully from head to toe and then settled on the glowing amulet around my neck. Gleaming malice and loathsome delight swept over his face. I looked at Mr. Kadam for support, but he was studying the man meticulously as well.

I was very afraid. I cried out for Ren, but even I couldn’t hear my own voice.

The man pulled something from his pocket and started muttering words to himself. I tried to read his lips, but he seemed to be speaking in another language. Mr. Kadam’s features were becoming transparent. He was becoming spectral again. I looked at my arm and gasped as the same thing started happening to me. My mind swirled dizzily. I felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn’t stand anymore. I fell down . . . down . . . down.

W
hen I opened my eyes, I was staring up into Ren’s face.

“Kelsey! Are you okay? You fell. Did you faint? What happened?”

“No, I didn’t faint!” I then mumbled, “At least I don’t think I did.” He was holding me in his arms, cradling me close, and I liked it. I didn’t
want
to like it, but I did.

“You caught me?”

He lectured, “I told you I wouldn’t drop you.”

I muttered sarcastically, “Thanks, Superhero. Now put me down, please. I can stand.”

Ren set me down carefully and, to my great dismay, my legs still wobbled. He reached out a hand to steady me, and I howled, “I said I can stand! Back off a minute, would you?”

I had no idea why I yelled at him. He was just trying to be helpful, but I was frightened. Strange things were happening to me that I had no control over. I also felt embarrassed and was overly sensitive about him touching me. I couldn’t think straight when he touched me. My brain got all fogged up like a mirror in a steamy bathroom, so I wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

I sat down on the stone border of the pool and put my tennis shoes back on, hoping the dizziness would soon pass.

Ren crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at me. “Kelsey, tell me what happened, please.”

“I don’t know exactly. I had a . . . a vision, I guess.”

“And what did you see in this vision?”

“There were three people, Mr. Kadam, some scary man, and me. All three of us wore amulets, and they were glowing red.”

He dropped his arms and his face became serious. He asked quietly, “What did the scary man look like?”

“He looked like . . . I don’t know, a mob boss or something like that. The kind of guy that likes to be in control and kill things. He had dark hair and black, glittery eyes.”

“Was he Indian?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”