Ren turned me around and then his warm fingers brushed my neck as he secured the clasp and explained, “This necklace is called a
Mangalsutra
. The tradition of a groom giving this token to his bride on their wedding day goes back centuries. In ancient times, it was a simple bracelet that indicated to invaders that this woman belonged to another and was, therefore, under a man’s protection. Later, the necklace became a sign that a man and woman were committed to each other, much like an engagement ring. It’s a sign of an inseparable bond between a man and his wife.”
I turned back to him, and as he touched the beads along the edge, he spoke quietly, “Gold and blue tiger’s eye to remember what was found.” His finger trailed down to the lotus ruby in the center. “A diamond lotus and red ruby to remember what was lost.” He slid two fingers up the length of the chain over the dozens of tiny blue flowers. “And sapphire flowers that symbolize what will be.”
Ren took my hands and stepped closer. “Today, I give this precious token to the person most precious to me as a sign of my devotion and love. You are my
mere jaan
, my life, Kelsey Hayes.”
A few thin tears trickled down my cheek, but Ren gently brushed them away, his touch as light as the breeze. Then he nodded to the priest, who said, “As these two young people have pledged their lives and love to each other, with all of you as witnesses, we will now make their union official.”
He chanted in a singsong voice accompanied by the drums and pipes until the music abruptly stopped. With a toothy smile, he looked up at us and said, “This
torri
gate represents a crossing from the earthly plane into the spiritual. As you take your bride’s hand and step through to the other side, you begin your new life together. Before you were two and now you will be one, forever connected with an unbreakable bond.”
Confidently, Ren gripped my hands. “Are you ready?”
I leaned toward him with a smile and whispered, “What would you do if I said no?”
He ducked his head near my ear. “I have a remedy prepared should you prove to be a reluctant bride.” With a playful glint in his eye, he quickly bent over and before I could mutter a word of protest, he swept me into his arms, five-hundred-pound dress and all.
Laughing softly, I brushed his hair from his eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck while our audience cheered.
“Can I kiss you now?” he asked.
“I think you’d better, tiger,” I replied.
With a lingering kiss, Ren carried me through the torri gate and spun us in a circle to the accompaniment of enthusiastic Japanese musicians. He set me down and slid his hands down my arms. He was about to whisper something else when Sunil slapped him on the back, and well wishers surrounded us.
After animated congratulations from our family and friends and taking a few pictures before the sun was completely gone, Nilima bustled about, getting everyone moving along to the reception.
Ren kissed me thoroughly until I protested, “You’re ruining my makeup.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully. “That sounds like a challenge.”
I lifted my voluminous skirt and darted toward the waiting limousine. Over my shoulder I called out, “You’ll have to catch me first, tiger! Perhaps you’d rather be chasing monkeys.”
I squealed when I heard a growl right behind me and was suddenly lifted off my feet. After he bundled me into the limo, Ren pressed his cheek to mine.
“I’ve caught your scent, Mrs. Rajaram, and you’ll never escape my clutches again.”
“I sincerely hope not.” I giggled as Ren swept me into a passionate kiss that, despite my protests about my hair and makeup, didn’t end until we were halfway to the reception.
“I started off with a tiger and ended up with a husband,” I said as Ren wrapped me in his arms.
He kissed my nose. “And I started off with nothing and ended up with everything. I love you, Kelsey Hayes Rajaram.”
I smiled, loving every syllable of those three little words.
R
en drove the McLaren roadster, my birthday present from Mr. Kadam, along the tree-lined road to the pretty South Salem duplex we had lived in
so
many months ago. Ren had shipped the car and bought up a significant amount of property in the surrounding forested hills with the intention of building us a home on what we both thought of as our mountain. We were finally starting our new life together, and in some ways, returning to our old one in Oregon.
Hopping out of the car in the driveway, I smiled, enjoying the pine and rain scent I loved
so
much. I’d just pulled a bag from the backseat when Ren nudged it off my shoulder and scooped me into his arms.
“You weren’t going to deny me the opportunity to carry you over the threshold, were you?” Ren said, kissing me softly.
I stroked the hair at the nape of his neck and grinned. “Despite what you think, I’m not in the habit of denying your requests.”
“I think you may be in denial about your denials, Mrs. Rajaram.”
As Ren strode to the front door of our duplex, he listed all the things I’d denied in the time we’d known each other, stopping only when I pressed my lips against his.
He murmured finally, “I like the way you change the subject. Feel free to stop all our disagreements in the same fashion.”
I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’ll keep that in mind. You know, you really don’t have to carry me. Your super-strength is gone now, and I don’t want to be the cause of my husband’s back problems.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully. “There is nothing wrong with my back,
hridaya patni
, and though I may not have the strength of a tiger any longer, I still have the ability to seize willful women who cross my path.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Yes.”
Ren unlocked the door, stepped inside, and kicked it closed. Then he proceeded to make good on his promise. I protested briefly that our bags were still outside but his fingers had already unwound my braids and after another minute I no longer cared about our bags.
We broke apart when the doorbell rang. Outside on the front steps stood a mail carrier with a package.
“Can I help you?” Ren asked.
“Delivery for you, sir,” the man said and handed off the package.
With a nod and a smile of farewell, Ren closed the door and tore open the mysterious package. Inside it lay a heavy, wooden box.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ren said as he clicked open the lock. He lifted the polished lid to reveal a scroll perfectly encased in glass.
“It’s the Scroll of Wisdom,” I whispered. “The ocean teacher said we weren’t to read it until after the fifth sacrifice had been made. How did it get here?”
“I don’t know. I thought it was in the safe.”
I picked up the packaging. “Ren, there’s no shipping label.”
We made eye contact and I jumped up and ran to the front door, throwing it wide. The postal worker was walking slowly down the hill.
“Wait!” I shouted.
Ren and I ran outside, coming to an abrupt halt as the man stopped and turned. The courier smiled. Then he pressed his hands together and inclined his head. The air swirled around him, and his hat vanished to show a balding head and a crown of wiry gray hair. His blue uniform and boots transformed into a roughly woven wrap and sandals.
I gasped and took a step forward. “Phet?” I asked earnestly.
The man smiled. A tear slipped down his cheek, and the magic that swirled around him intensified, obscuring him from view.
“Phet!” I reached for him, but his body faded until he was gone completely.
Once again, my mind reeled. If that was Phet and he had come all this way to give us a message, I definitely wanted to know what was so important.
“I didn’t imagine it, did I? That was Phet, wasn’t it?” I asked, already walking back up the driveway to the house.
“Yes,” Ren confirmed, trailing along behind me.
Even though he stopped by the car to retrieve my grandmother’s quilt and our bags, he quickly caught up to me at the front door, and we both rushed back into the house, straight to the Scroll.
The glass tube seemed to have been blown around the document inside. There was no way to open it.
“I’ll have to break it,” Ren said. “Stand back a little.”
I moved back a step or two as he gripped the cylinder. There was a snap and the tinkling of broken glass, and then Ren had the Scroll in his hand. A heavy wax insignia sealed it shut.
Ren trailed his fingers over the imprint. “It’s my family seal—the house of Rajaram . . .” he said excitedly.
Carefully, Ren broke the seal and spread the ancient pages on the kitchen counter. The sheets of thick Sanskrit-covered parchment quickly began to yellow around the edges.
I smoothed the paper flat for Ren as he ran his fingertip lightly over the words.
“Kelsey, this is a letter from
Kishan
.”
“What does it say?” I asked anxiously.
Ren and Kelsey,
I apologize for corresponding in such a dramatic fashion, but I couldn’t risk either of you reading this before certain events had been set into motion, and I wanted to dispel any worries either of you might retain over my decision to stay in the past.
After you left, Anamika and I spent many years serving people of different countries. We built a home high in the clouds on the rocky slope of Mount Kailash and used the power of Durga’s gifts to supply food, clothing, and healing all over the world.
Our home was considered sacred ground for many world religions, and pilgrimages were made to the mountain base to worship the goddess Durga. The peoples of Asia thrived under her hands. She inspired artists, poets, political reform, religion, and social harmony.
Anamika and I formed a bond of friendship and respect that led to love. I am proud to have served as her companion, and I am blessed that she agreed to be my wife. We have had a very long and happy life, and it would have been wrong for me to leave you thinking that I was miserable or disappointed with the choice I made. It took me some time to learn to live without you, Kelsey, and I’ll admit that there were many times I cursed my decision to stay behind, but destiny treated me well, and I have a family and a life that has enriched me and made me a better man.
Kelsey, there is still a piece of my heart that belongs to you. I have cherished it all these centuries. You were the angel who saved me from a life squandered, and your influence has impacted me in more ways than you know. The warmth, kindness, and love you offered when you decided to save two lost tigers changed the course of my life. A happy ending was promised, and a happy ending was delivered. Every single day my heart swells with gratitude for you.
Ren, forgive me for my jealous, impetuous youth. Whatever good I have done in the world, whatever strides I have made as a man, it was because I was able to look to my brother for an example. For what it’s worth, you would have made a great king.
If there is one regret that I have, it’s that I wish I could pass through the long centuries with you. I miss you both, but I know that your lives will be full and rich, for I have glimpsed what is to come. Forgive my interference, but it was something I needed to do. The question that has often plagued my mind have been answered.
He’s
yours,
brother.
May your love for each other continue to grow, and may you find joy in the life you build together. Treasure your time with your family for the days pass quickly.
Perhaps in another time and another place we will meet again.
—Kishan
I dashed tears away from my eyes. “It was a letter from him all along. If only we’d opened it.”
Ren covered my hand with his. “If we had, the course of all our lives would have changed. Destiny has been fulfilled the way it was supposed to have been.”
I nodded, overcome with emotion. Ren wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face in his chest and thought of the brother we’d left behind.
“Ren?” I mumbled against his shirt. “What did Kishan mean when he said, ‘He’s yours’?”
Hesitating briefly, Ren sighed and pressed a kiss in my hair. “When Lokesh took you from the yacht, Kishan and I went looking for you. Do you remember?”
I nodded. “You were on your motorcycles.”
“Yes. On our way to rescue you, Kishan told me that he’d had a vision of you with a little baby.”
“It was his vision from the Grove of Dreams,” I said softly.
“What he didn’t tell you was that he lied to you about seeing the baby’s eyes. In his vision, your son had golden eyes. He also heard you say his name. You called him Anik Kishan Rajaram.”
I softly gasped. “Kishan . . . he must have thought that the baby was his.”
“He did. When he agreed to stay behind, he believed the golden-eyed baby would never be born.”
“So then his message—”
“His message means that the father of the golden-eyed baby, the man he saw with you in the Grove of Dreams, was me.” Ren pressed his forehead against mine. “All this time I believed that I had stolen his rightful place. That his destiny was to be with you, when really the baby was always mine.
You
were always meant to be mine.”