Mr. Kadam quietly watched the busy threads, in fascination.
I struggled briefly to get out of my coat. Kishan helped and stroked my arm. I shoved his hand away, but Kishan only grinned and reclined on the cushions.
Mr. Kadam asked, “Does it work like the Golden Fruit except it creates woven things?”
I shot Kishan a warning look and replied, “Sort of, yeah.”
Mr. Kadam mumbled, “‘India’s masses shall be robed.’”
“Huh, I guess we could clothe India’s people with this thing.”
Funny that that hadn’t occurred to me before.
“Wait a minute. Didn’t the prophecy say something about ‘chief’s disguise’ too?”
Mr. Kadam rummaged through some papers and found a copy of the prophecy.
“Yes. It says here, ‘Discus routs and ‘chief’s disguise can stave off those who would pursue’. Is that what you’re referring to?”
I laughed. “Yep, that makes sense then. You see, the Divine Scarf can do a couple of other things too. I mean other than making clothes and weaving things. It can gather the winds like the god ’s bag.”
Mr. Kadam exclaimed, “Similar to the bag of winds Odysseus received from Aiolos? Ulysses’ leather bag tied with a silver cord?”
“Yes, but it’s not leather. Silver cord would work, though.”
“Perhaps sent by one of the gods of wind? Vayu? Striborg? Njord? Pazuzu?”
“Don’t forget Boreas and Zephyrus.”
Kishan interrupted, “Could you two speak English, please?”
Mr. Kadam laughed. “Sorry. I got carried away for a minute.”
“Do you want to show him now, Kishan?” I asked.
“Sure.”
Mr. Kadam leaned forward. “Show me what, Miss Kelsey?”
“You’ll see. Just watch.”
Kishan took the Divine Scarf, mumbled, “Disguise,” and twisted it around his body. It lengthened and turned black with swirling colors.
“I want to see if it will work without me saying a name out loud like the Golden Fruit does,” he said from beneath the folds of fabric.
“Yes. That’s a good idea,” I responded.
When Kishan took the Scarf away from his face, I was unprepared for what I’d see. It was Ren. He’d taken Ren’s form. He must have seen my stricken face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to shock Mr. Kadam by showing him his own face.”
“It’s okay. Just change back quickly, please.”
He did, and Mr. Kadam sat there dumbfounded. I couldn’t speak. Seeing Ren sitting there—even knowing it was really Kishan— was extremely difficult. I had to tamp down all the emotions that surfaced.
Kishan quickly took over for me and explained, “With the Scarf, we can take the form of other people. Kelsey changed to look like Nilima, and I became you. We need to test its range and try different forms so we can figure out the Scarf’s disguise abilities and limitations.”
“Simply . . . amazing!” Mr. Kadam sputtered, “Uh, Kishan, may I?”
“Sure.”
He tossed the Scarf to Mr. Kadam. Its colors changed as soon as his fingers touched the fabric, first turning a brown mustard color and then changing to olive green.
I teased, “I think it likes you, Mr. Kadam.”
“Yes, well . . . imagine the possibilities. The many people the Golden Fruit and this glorious fabric could help. So many people suffer from want of food and warm clothes, and not just in India. These are truly divine gifts.”
I let him examine the Scarf while I had the Golden Fruit make us some chamomile tea with cream and sugar. Kishan wasn’t especially fond of tea, so he got a hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream instead.
I asked, “How long were we gone?”
“A bit over a week.”
I quickly calculated in my mind how many days we were up on the mountain. “Good. Our time in Shangri-la didn’t count.”
“How long were you two in Shangri-la, Miss Kelsey?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but I think it was almost two weeks.” I looked at Kishan. “Is that about right?”
He nodded silently and sipped his cocoa.
“Mr. Kadam, how soon can we get going?”
“We can leave at dawn.”
“I want to get home as soon as possible. We need to get ready to save Ren.”
“We can go across the border and enter India from the Sikkim province. It will be much faster than going through the Himalayas again.”
“How long?”
“It depends on how fast we get through the border. If there’s no trouble, perhaps a few days.”
“Okay. We have so much to tell you.”
Mr. Kadam sipped his tea and looked at me thoughtfully. “You have not been sleeping well, Miss Kelsey. Your eyes are tired.”
He made eye contact with Kishan, and then set down his cup. “I think we should let you sleep. We have a long journey ahead and much can be discussed on the road.”
“I