Tiger’s Destiny (21 page)
A
s blackness surrounded me, I felt myself sinking into it, diminishing, as if I was drowning in a hot ocean. The air was thick and palpable. I blinked often hoping my eyes would adjust, so I’d be able to see something. Even the lava falls had gone dark. After a few minutes, I laid my head against the nest and tried to sleep.
A small knocking noise like that of a tiny woodpecker against a tree woke me. I could feel the vibrations on my palm where it rested on the nest. A warm breeze blew my hair over my shoulder. I sat up and pushed it out of the way. As I did so, I noticed the breeze had also cleared away some of the ashes covering the ruby Phoenix egg.
It glowed from the inside with a red, pulsing light. Careful not to damage any of the other Phoenix eggs, I crawled closer on my hands and knees and heard a soft scraping sound. The ruby egg shook slightly and a burst of white light appeared as the shell began to crack. With fascination, I watched the slow hatching of a new baby Phoenix.
After several minutes, a golden beak knocked a small hole into the shell, then retreated. With another burst of energy, a golden-taloned foot emerged and gripped the shell just as a light penetrated the darkness. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw the dawn comet streaking slowly across the black sky.
Another crack, and the shell broke further apart. I could see the bird’s fiery reddish colors as it struggled, wrenching its body awkwardly back and forth to free itself from the egg. Its feathers were sticky and wet and clung to its crimson body. I could see the rapid beating of the Phoenix’s heart thumping against its thin chest.
The baby Phoenix rested its head on the broken eggshell, lying half in and half out. It cheeped loudly and when it blinked and opened its eyes, they shone like tiny, white penlights. In a flash, I knew it had the intelligence of its sire.
The comet passed over the mountain, lighting up the valley to signal a new day. The Phoenix seemed to gain strength from the fire and began to preen its feathers. Within a matter of minutes, its beautiful feathers and tail were dry, and the bird moved around with strength. It hopped over to me. I reached out a finger to touch its head. The Phoenix raised its crest and closed its eyes, tilting its neck toward me. For the next hour, I watched the bird mature rapidly.
Though similar in form, its coloring was different from Sunset’s. Its entire body was covered in reddish hues except for its golden feet and beak.
“Greetings,” the new Phoenix chirped squeakily for the first time. “I am Sunrise.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sunrise. You must be hungry. Maybe I can find you something.”
“I . . . will not eat.”
“Why not?”
“I only live for a short time. I will not hunt and kill another creature to sate my appetite.”
“What about fruit?” I asked.
“Phoenixes love firefruit,” it answered. “But, alas! None have grown here for many centuries.”
“When the brothers come, I’ll try to create some firefruit for you.”
“Yes, if they survive the climb. The white and black tigers are on their way to you now.”
I looked down the mountain anxiously but didn’t see them.
“It is time for me to choose a new egg,” the Phoenix announced.
“Already? But you just hatched,” I answered, confused.
“The young Phoenix inside must be given time to develop before my time is done. If you’d like to help, you may bring the eggs to me so I can choose the right one.”
I gathered dozens of Phoenix eggs. Each sparkled, lit with its own inner fire. When I had built up a rather large pile of gemstone eggs, I held them up one at a time for the young Phoenix to inspect. It peered into the heart of each egg and declared each of them not ready. When I’d exhausted the pile in the nest, it asked for more.
“There are eggs in the hidden cracks and crags of the mountain.”
Quickly, I set aside the amethyst egg I’d been polishing and hunted for more of the precious eggs. “Will you be laying more eggs today?”
“No. All Phoenixes are males. We don’t lay eggs.”
“Then how did they get here?”
“We have no mother that we know of. Even the wisdom of the ages does not explain where we come from, but we have always known that when the eggs run out, it will be the end of our lineage.”
“There aren’t a lot of eggs considering you only live for one day,” I commented, doing the math as I looked over the nest.
“We do not fear for the future. Each of us is allotted our time. When the eggs are gone, we will cease to exist. I do not dwell on things I cannot control.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be like to live only for one day.”
“One day, if you make the most of it, can be more satisfactory than a lifetime squandered,” the wise young bird replied.
I slipped on some loose rock and almost dropped a delicate opal egg, but managed to right myself just in time. As I set it down before the Phoenix, I asked, “Does each bird have different coloring?”
“Yes, each bird is unique. The coloring of the egg is similar to the feathers of the bird.” It peered at the opal egg and dismissed it. “No, not that one either.”
Directed by the Phoenix, I climbed farther and farther away from the nest to find more eggs. The cliff was perilous so I edged carefully along. As I shimmied my way onto a thin ledge, I saw a gleaming, topaz-yellow egg on a shelf just beyond my reach.
I wedged my foot into a crack and hoisted my body upward several feet until I could just touch the egg with my fingertips. I needed to climb higher. Lifting my other foot, I stepped onto a protruding rock and tested my weight on it. Confident it would hold, I continued the climb.
The egg was beautiful. It sparkled like a yellow diamond and was about the size of a football. I gently tucked it inside my dress above the belt. My skin turned warm where it rested. I started to move down, feeling blindly for a foothold.
My foot dangled in the air and suddenly the rock that held my weight started to give way. It dislodged and tumbled down to the valley below, slamming my body into the cliff on my right. Clinging to the ledge with only my fingertips, I desperately shouted to the Phoenix for help. Then my fingers slipped off the edge and I screamed and tumbled through the sky.
Luckily, after only a moment of freefall, something stopped my descent. At first, I thought I was caught on a tree limb, but then I looked up and saw the face of my rescuer.
“Are you alright?” Ren asked.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugged him tightly, and exclaimed, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” as I kissed him on both cheeks repeatedly.
He touched my cheek gently. “You’re welcome.” Ren hugged my body to his and then pulled back with an expression of confusion on his face as his eyes scanned my protruding belly. He raised an eyebrow and stared.
I glanced down at the bulge hidden under my clothes, wrapped my arms around my precious cargo, and cried out, “My egg! Ren, quick! Let me down!”
As soon as he set me on my feet, I retrieved the yellow egg and examined it for fractures.
“It’s fine.” I smiled in relief and set it carefully onto the floor of the nest.
I heard the sounds of a struggle and spun around to find Kishan wrestling with Sunrise. The Phoenix had grown again and was nearing the size of its predecessor. Kishan hollered at the bird as he slowly strangled it. Flat tears streamed down Kishan’s handsome face.
I grabbed his arm and tugged with all my strength, but Kishan just shoved me roughly aside and shouted, “Leave me alone, Ren. It’s my right!”
Ren helped me to my feet. “He still thinks you’re dead.”
I rushed around the nest to face Kishan—who only had eyes for the Phoenix. Kishan tried unsuccessfully to wring its neck and tear its wings from its body but the Phoenix was unbreakable.
“Kishan, please stop,” I said softly.
Kishan froze and then dashed tears from his eyes and looked up. “Kelsey?”
I nodded and held out a hand. He let go of the Phoenix, who moved away a few paces and shook itself vigorously. Sunrise flapped its wings several times and then flew to an overhead ledge beyond our reach.
“You’re alive?” Kishan took my hand and yanked me into a tight embrace, stroking my hair as his body shook with relief. “I thought . . . I thought I’d never see you again. That I wouldn’t even be able to find your body and take it home.”
“I tried to tell you she wasn’t dead,” Ren said quietly but matter of factly.
“How did you know I was alive?” I asked, still crushed to Kishan’s chest. “I was pretty badly burned.”
Ren’s blue eyes pierced mine as he admitted softly. “I didn’t at first, but then I realized I’d know. I’d feel it if you were gone.” He broke eye contact and picked up an egg. “I didn’t know you’d be healed, however.”
I gave Kishan a final squeeze, cleared my throat, and announced, “Ren, Kishan, I’d like you to meet Sunrise.”
“And what a memorable greeting it was,” the Phoenix hissed sulkily.
“Are you injured?” I asked.
“Would it matter to you if I was?”
“Of course it would.”
I heard a musical sigh. “No, I am not injured. No thanks to the brute standing at your side.”
Kishan, still angry, threatened, “I held you responsible for her death.”
“She is very much alive. And even better than she was before, in fact.”
“What do you mean better?” I asked.
“The scars on your legs are gone.”
“What?”
Ren crouched down and examined my calves for the scars from the shark and the Kraken. I turned my leg back and forth and only found healthy pink skin as soft as a fawn’s.
The Phoenix eyed our group shrewdly. “I congratulate the two of you on successfully scaling my mountain. As is your right for such a feat, I will grant you passage to the other side as promised and will even give each of you a boon. You may each take something from my mountain with you to the other world. Make your choice when you’re ready. And to show what a magnanimous creature I am, the black tiger may begin.”
Kishan grunted and went for a Phoenix egg. I bit my lip, knowing he’d have to give it back because the eggs were so rare. He chose an egg that was creamy ivory with golden-orange striations running through it. I was about to say something when the Phoenix spoke.
“Have you made your choice then, black tiger?”
Kishan nodded.
“You know not what you have taken, but I will give you this egg on the condition that you guard it all of your days and that it will remain in your family. When you take it from this place, it will change from an egg into a truth stone, and it will never grow to become a Phoenix. When held, you will recognize if those around you speak the truth and you will be able to see into their hearts. It will grant you wisdom if you seek it to be of aid to others, but if you use it to manipulate or exploit, the heart of the Phoenix will destroy you. This is a very precious gift.”
Kishan inclined his head. “Thank you and I . . . apologize for trying to kill you.”
“Protect the egg, and I will accept your apology . . . eventually.” The Phoenix shifted on its talons and settled on the ledge. “And now you, white tiger.”
Ren replied, “I would ask to take Kelsey with me.”
The bird laughed musically while Kishan frowned. “You are wise to ask for the girl, for I was sorely tempted to keep her with me. I would have enjoyed having a companion as would the other Phoenixes, but a promise is a promise. You may take her with you. It is now your turn, my dear. What would you like for your prize?”
“But I didn’t scale the mountain.”
“In a way, you did. Phoenixes don’t make offers twice. I suggest you take me up on my hospitality.”
“Okay. Then . . . I would like some of your wisdom.”
“The wisdom of the ages is more than a mortal mind can comprehend. The corporeal form you now possess would be overwhelmed and damaged to the point of death, but perhaps I can answer a question for you instead.”
“Alright.” I paused briefly as I thought of what I wanted to ask. “My question is this . . . will I ever see my parents or Mr. Kadam again?”
“Are you sure you want me to answer that question? Scholars, priests, kings, and laymen throughout the centuries have pondered on and debated the afterlife. Humankind has always needed to look outward, to aspire to something greater than themselves. It is because they do not know the future that they find the hope that gives them the motivation to change. Do you still wish to know the answer?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
The Phoenix opened its wings and leapt to the edge of the nest, considered me, and said, “Then your answer is yes, though you may not recognize them when they are near. Do you remember when Sunset said that love was the only thing in the universe worth risking everything for? The reason is because love is enduring. It flows through not just this mortal world but also beyond.”
“Thank you.” I wiped a tear from my cheek, took a few steps closer to the bird, and wrapped my arms gently around its neck.
“You’re welcome,” Sunrise sang softly in my ear. “Now perhaps you will show me that egg you risked your life for.”
Ren picked up the topaz egg and handed it to me. I held it up so the Phoenix could peer into it with a blinding gaze. Twin beams shot into the egg, and the center lit up with a small red light the size of a quarter. The little light pulsed, and the Phoenix sang a happy burst of melody.
“What is it?” I asked.
“That is the heart of the next Phoenix.”
Reverently, I made a special place in the center of the nest and placed the egg on top of a soft bed of crackling fire leaves. The bird watched me with approval and then stretched its wings and dove off the edge of the nest. Arcing in a circle, it gathered speed and sang loudly. The echo rang through the valley. The mountain shook and a short distance to the side of the nest, rock blasted out in a great explosion. When the dust settled, I saw a dark tunnel in the rocky face.
The Phoenix alit on the nest again and said, “This opening will lead you to a cavern called the Cave of Sleep and Death. Pass through the cavern quickly. If you are fast, you can cross it in two days. Do not delay, for if you tire and fall asleep you will not wake up.