until I’d had at least one bite of each type of food.
When the food made a full circle and everyone had had a portion, the bowls were passed around again. This process continued until all the food was gone. I used my canteen to clean my hands and tried to be patient as the Baiga moved on to the next ritual. When I whispered to Kishan that time was of the essence, he said that we had plenty of time and that Ren would need a while to recover.
The Baiga began celebrating in earnest. Musical instruments were brought out. They chanted and danced. Two women approached me with bowls of black liquid and spoke. Mr. Kadam translated, “They are asking if you would like a tattoo to commemorate your husband’s victory over the evil one.”
“Who do they think I’m married to?”
Mr. Kadam blushed. “They believe you are my wife.”
“Don’t they think I’m a little young for you?”
“It’s a normal practice for very young women to marry older, wiser men in the tribe. They’ve seen you use the Golden Fruit and believe you are a goddess, my mate.”
“I see. Well, thank them for me, but I will remember this victory fine on my own. Just out of curiosity, what, or who, do they think Kishan is?”
“They believe he is our son and that we are here to rescue our other son.”
“They think I have two fully grown sons?”
“Goddesses can remain young and beautiful forever.”
“I wish that were true.”
“Show them your hand, Miss Kelsey.”
“My hand?”
“The one with the henna drawing. Make it glow so they can see the marks.”
I raised my hand and summoned my lightning power. My hand glowed, lit from inside. The skin became translucent, and the henna drawing surfaced—red on a white background.
Mr. Kadam quickly spoke to the two women and thankfully they bowed and left me alone.
“What did you say to them?”
“I told them I’ve already given you a tattoo of fire to remember this by. They believe that tattooing their women makes them more beautiful. They wouldn’t have understood if I’d said I didn’t want your skin to be tattooed. All Baiga men desire a wife with intricate tattooing.”
The Baiga danced and celebrated. One of the men was a fire-eater. I watched his performance, impressed with his skill, but I was in pain and exhausted. I leaned on Kishan, who put his arm around me as support. I must have slept for a while because when I woke the fire-eater was done. Everyone was watching movement at the tents. I became immediately alert. Ren emerged, accompanied by a Baiga man on each side. They’d bathed his wounds and dressed him in one of their wrap-around linen skirts, leaving him bare-chested.
Ren limped, but he looked much better. Although still severe, his wounds were better than they’d been. Someone had washed Ren’s hair and slicked it back. His eyes took in his surroundings and settled on the three of us. Quickly, his gaze shot past Mr. Kadam and me to fix on Kishan. A lopsided grin lit Ren’s face as he moved toward Kishan, who stood to greet him and offer his support. My heart began thumping wildly. Ren hugged his brother and patted his back weakly.
“Thank you for saving me and sending in the food. I couldn’t eat much yet, but I feel . . . well, better anyway.”
Ren took a seat next to Kishan and began speaking in his native language. I tried to make eye contact, but he didn’t appear interested in talking to me.
Finally, I cleared my throat and asked, “Would you like more to eat?”
His eyes glanced at me briefly. “Not right now, thank you,” he said politely and turned back to Kishan.
Mr. Kadam patted my hand as the Baiga’s gunia approached. He knelt in front of Mr. Kadam and spoke quickly. Then he stood and clapped his hands. A Baiga man knelt in front of Ren and bowed to the ground. He was the same man who I’d seen in my Scarf vision, the man who’d hurt Ren. Ren narrowed his eyes at the man who quickly lowered his gaze, spoke several words, and pulled a knife from his shirt.
Mr. Kadam translated, “Please forgive me, noble one. I fought against the demon as long as I could, but he hurt my family. My wife and children are now dead. There is nothing left for me. Unless you will restore my honor, I will leave the tribe and die alone in the wilderness.”