Tiger's Voyage (31 page)

“There are many sunken cities. More than I can name. Each tale I research leads me to five others. There is Meropis, as told by Theopompus; the lost continent of Mu that was sunk in the Pacific between Polynesia and Japan; and Lemuria, a lost land that sank either in the Indian Ocean or the Pacific Ocean. Then there’s Kumari Kandam, a sunken kingdom nicknamed the Land of Purity at the southern tip of India, and Ys or Ker-Is of Brittany. The Danes have Vineta, Egypt has Menouthis and Herakleion, Jamaica has Port Royal, and Argentina has Santa Fe la Vieja.

“Some of these cities have been found, and some remain only in stories shared among different cultures. The common thread is that the people angered the gods and were punished by the sea. Many of the legends say to seek these cities is to seek the curse that condemned them in the first place.”

“Does such a curse exist for the City of the Seven Pagodas?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I hope not. Perhaps by following Lady Silkworm’s pattern, we will avoid falling victim to the same fate. Perhaps the sea will spare us.”

Mr. Kadam set out drawings he had found of the five dragons. “In Chinese culture, the dragons are each assigned a territory, one for each compass point: north, south, east, and west. That leaves the fifth dragon.”

“Maybe he’s homeless or the center point of the compass,” I offered.

“Yes. In fact, there is a mention of a homeless dragon, but I suspect the center point of the compass may be more accurate in this case. They are also called the dragons of the five oceans.”

“What are the five oceans?”

“The ocean of the North is the Arctic, the Pacific is the East, the Atlantic is the West, the Indian Ocean is the middle, and the Southern Ocean is the South.”

“So we have an ocean for each dragon. Do you think we have to go to each ocean?”

“No. I believe we will find what we seek here. Perhaps they will be summoned.”

“Maybe they commute to work.”

Mr. Kadam laughed dryly. “Yes. Perhaps.”

I picked up a paper with a picture of a Chinese dragon dance. “I saw one of these dances at the wedding I went to with Li.”

I handed the picture to Kishan as Mr. Kadam nodded and explained, “The dragon dance is typically seen during the Chinese New Year. It honors the dragon and asks it to bestow good things for the coming year. Dragons bring the rain, watch over waterways, guard treasure, and bestow strength, wealth, good fortune, and fertility. In centuries past, the Chinese people have even called themselves the Children of the Dragon.

“At a wedding, the newlywed couple asks the dragons to bless their marriage; at New Years, those requests would be applied to all of the citizens. Incidentally, I’ve also been doing some research on colors. It appears that every color has different powers and characteristics. The red and black dragons are fierce and destructive. They can cause violent storms; they battle in the clouds and are said to be the source of lightning and thunder.

“Black dragons are considered evil and deceptive. Reds are associated with all the symbols of red: blood, temper, anger, love, fire, passion, volcanoes. Blues are more peaceful. They like ice and cold waters. Golds are the kings and queens of dragons; they hoard wealth. Greens can heal and promote wellness but also cause earthquakes, spew acid, and eat humans. Whites are reflective and wise; they are seen only rarely, tell half-truths, are omens of death, and their scales shine like mirrors.”

“Sounds great.”

Kishan put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

“Remember, Miss Kelsey, that this is all research. Your dragons could be similar to these or completely different.”

“I know.”

“Half of my research on gourds was never applicable, remember?”

“Yes. I remember. But still it’s nice to be prepared.”

Kishan suggested, “Perhaps you’d better go over the ways to kill them, just in case.”

Mr. Kadam agreed and went on for another two hours describing different types of dragons and their tendencies. He spoke of the Indian serpent kings, of crystal palaces beneath the ocean where dragons dined on opals and pearls and were served by crabs and fish.

He talked about weather patterns caused by dragons such as waterspouts, typhoons, and hurricanes. He spoke of bearded dragons, hairy dragons, long tailed, short tailed, five clawed, four clawed, some that could fly, some that lived in caves, some that breathed fire, and he named them: Ao Guang, Ao Qin, Ao Run, and Ao Shun, the Chinese dragons of the four compass points. He didn’t know what the fifth dragon would be called.

When Mr. Kadam was satisfied that we knew everything there was to know about dragons, he suggested heading up to the wheelhouse to peruse some of the captain’s maps. When I mentioned having lunch on the upper deck, he said we’d be relying on the Golden Fruit because he’d sent all the staff ashore for a day off, including the captain and his first mate.

I retrieved the Golden Fruit as Mr. Kadam carefully gathered his notes and locked them away again in the desk drawer. Then the three of us went up to the wheelhouse. He brought the kimono with him so he could compare maps. When we arrived, he pulled out a large laminated map of the Bay of Bengal. The Fruit made sandwiches and a tray of sliced melon, which I offered to Mr. Kadam but he waved it away, so intent was he in his studies of the map. Kishan and I ate without him.

When I was finished, I picked up the kimono and traced the red dragon before laying it out, dragon-side down, on the shelf above the row of monitors. I put my finger on the Shore Temple and followed the line of stitching over to the red dot, the first of the seven pagodas. The red dot grew, and my hand began to glow. Its threads came undone and started restitching themselves with an invisible needle. They disappeared around the side of the kimono.

I nervously called for Kishan and Mr. Kadam, who were both leaning over the map, as I flipped over the kimono. The red stitches were still moving until they reached the red dragon. The dragon blinked and roared before settling into the fabric again.

Panicked, I exclaimed, “What did I do? What’s happened?”

Mr. Kadam hurried over and put his hand on my arm but then froze. “Can you feel that, Kishan?”

“Yes.”

“What? What is it?” I asked. They both turned to the window and looked out at the ocean.

“Somebody tell me. What’s going on?”

Kishan put his hands on my shoulders. “It’s the ship, Kells. We’re moving.”

“We’re moving? How is that possible?”

“I’m not certain.” Mr. Kadam quickly checked the ship’s instruments. “Everything’s off. We should still be at anchor.”

I picked up the kimono and flipped it around again. “Mr. Kadam. Look at this.”

A tiny stitched boat had appeared on the front of the kimono and, as we watched, it crept forward one stitch. It was aimed for the red dot.

Mr. Kadam quickly turned around. “Kishan? Would you mind climbing to the top of the wheelhouse and taking a look around? Take note of our direction and the location of the city.”

Kishan returned a moment later, his face incredulous. “Based on the sun, we’re heading east but there
is
no city. There’s no coastline. Nothing but water surrounds us for miles.”

Mr. Kadam nodded as if he expected this. “Please locate Ren and Nilima for me and ask them to come to the wheelhouse.”

Kishan made eye contact with me and smiled briefly, then turned and left.

Mr. Kadam played with the instruments a moment longer, and then frowned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing’s turning on. We shouldn’t be moving. The engines aren’t on. The anchor is still down according to this. Nothing is working— satellite, radio, everything’s off.”

When Kishan returned with the others, Nilima and Mr. Kadam began charting our progress on a large map as best they could. Mr. Kadam sent Ren and Kishan to check on the anchor. He asked me to keep my eye on the compass and shout out directions but the compass just spun in circles. It would point east for a few seconds then swing south, then west, then back to the east again. Eventually, Mr. Kadam had me watch the horizon instead. We couldn’t steer the ship, but I was to watch for possible obstacles while he and Nilima tried to figure out what to do.

Ren and Kishan returned and reported that the anchor had actually been trailing in our wake, like a raft floating along behind the ship. They’d had to reel it in manually. We tried our cell phones but found no signal. The five of us spent a quiet afternoon in the wheelhouse, talking only when necessary. Without saying it, we all knew we’d entered another world—a world without the rules and boundaries we were used to. A world where dragons ruled the seas, and all we had to protect ourselves were our weapons and Mr. Kadam’s research.

I could feel the change in the air. The warmth and heat of the India summer was gone, and the air felt heavy and wet and cold, more like the air near the sea in Oregon. Kishan readied our scuba gear just in case. The temperature had dropped from the nineties to the sixties. Ren retrieved our weapons and a sweater and Fanindra for me. I didn’t put on the sweater but thanked him and slid Fanindra onto my arm.

It was time for all of us to suit up. Ren helped me strap the bow and quiver of golden arrows over my back with a fabric strap from the Divine Scarf. He helped me practice taking the bow out a few times. He asked the Divine Scarf to shrink down to a hair ribbon and, after a pointed look at my sheared hair, knotted it securely around my wrist. The Golden Fruit was placed in a bag and slid into the quiver with the arrows.

Ren had made himself a belt with the Divine Scarf also, creating fabric hip holsters for the
gada
and the trident. When Kishan returned, Ren handed him a similar belt with a loop for the
chakram
. Kishan hung the
kamandal
shell around his neck, and we stood quietly facing the window for a time—me between my two warriors. We were ready for battle.

Mr. Kadam and Nilima called us over to the kimono to tell us that they had given up trying to figure out where we were. Ren, Kishan, and I nodded in understanding. The three of us knew that once we began the hunt, there were no maps; there was no rational path to take. We depended on fortune and destiny to lead us to the place we needed to go.

Afternoon quickly turned into evening. We were more than halfway to the red dot now. Based on the speed we were moving across the kimono, Mr. Kadam figured we would arrive around midnight. We didn’t feel like going below deck so the three of us—Kishan, Ren, and I— climbed to the top of the wheelhouse. I used the Scarf to make cushions. Despite my nerves, the discomfort of Fanindra on my arm, and the bow and arrows on my back, I fell asleep leaning against Kishan’s chest.

Several hours later, Kishan gently shook me awake. I blinked open sleepy eyes to stare at his long jean-clad leg stretched out in front of me. In my sleep, I’d moved to using his thigh as a pillow.

I groaned and rubbed my aching neck. “What is it?”

Kishan’s warm hands began kneading my sore muscles. “It’s nothing. My leg was just falling asleep.”

I laughed then winced as he hit a tender spot. “Well, it’s probably safe to say I hurt me more than I hurt you.”

“You’re probably right.”

I looked up and saw the silent form of Ren standing as far away as possible. He watched the horizon, ever vigilant. “Ren? Why don’t you take a break and let me or Kishan take watch for a while?”

Ren turned his head so I could see his profile. “I’m fine. You sleep, Kells.”

Once he turned back, I stared at him in confusion. “Hey. Have you two gone more than twelve hours as men now?”

Ren nodded briefly and Kishan said, “For me, it’s been fourteen. We’re in the no-need-to-be-a-tiger zone, it seems.”

I sat up further. “I’m hungry. What time is it?”

Ren answered, “About 11:45. I could use something to eat too.”

Kishan stood and stretched. “I’ll stand watch. You eat something with Kelsey.”

Ren hesitated but stepped aside and sat down a good five feet away from me.

“What would you like?” I asked him kindly.

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You choose.”

I wished up some kettle corn and root beer in frosty bottles. I gave a giant bowl to Ren and took one to Kishan, who kissed my forehead and turned to watch the dark horizon again.

After I settled myself and started munching on the warm, buttery snack in my own bowl, I looked at Ren who was staring hard at the popcorn. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No. It’s good. It just … tastes different.”

“What do you mean? You’ve had popcorn before.”

“This is sweet.”

“Oh. It’s kettle corn. You used to eat it all the time in Oregon.”

He picked up a popped kernel and studied it. He mumbled quietly to himself, “A blue dress. I dropped the bowl.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“Hmm?” He looked up suddenly. “Oh. Nothing. It’s good.”

We ate quietly. I tipped back my bottle of root beer and looked up at the sky. “Look at that.” I pointed. “The stars are so bright!”

Ren pushed his empty bowl and root beer away and lay back on the cushions with his hands behind his head. “You’re right. They’re very bright. More than usual. Do you see that constellation up there?”

“The one to the right?”

“No.”

He slid closer so his head was resting against mine and gently took my wrist. He moved my arm until my finger was pointing at a very bright star. My heart started beating harder, and my face flushed. A light scent of sandalwood mixed with the sea was coming from his hair that was tickling my cheek. He moved my arm to point out a path from star to star. “Can you see it now?”

I sucked in a breath. “Yes. It’s like a serpent.”

He nodded and let go of my wrist. Sliding away, he put his arms under his head again. “It’s called Draco. As in the dragon.”

“That makes sense.”

“He guards the golden apples of Hera, the Greeks say. Others say he is the serpent who tempted Eve.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. What do you think about the … Ren! Did you see that?”