Tiger's Curse (The Tiger Saga #1)(12)

Speaking over my shoulder, I said, ‘It’s not every day a person sees a tiger as handsome as you are, you know. He probably just wants to compliment you on your performance.’

Ren huffed in response.

I decided to grab a bite to eat myself and headed toward the main building – only to discover a flurry of unusual activity. People were gathered together, gossiping in small, scattered groups. I snatched a chocolate chip muffin and a bottle of cold milk and cornered Matt.

‘What’s going on?’ I mumbled around a big bite of my muffin.

‘I’m not exactly sure. My dad, Mr. Maurizio, and another man are in a serious meeting, and we were told to put a hold on our daily activities. We were instructed to wait here. We’re all wondering what’s going on.’

‘Hmm.’ I sat and ate my muffin, listening to the wild theories and speculations of the troupe.

We didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, Mr. Maurizio, Mr. Davis, and Mr. Kadam, the stranger I’d met earlier, walked into the building.

‘Sedersi, my friends. Sit. Sit!’ Mr. Maurizio said with a beaming smile. ‘This man, Mr. Kadam, has made me the most happy of men. He has made an offer to purchase our belov’d tigre, Dhiren.’

There was an audible gasp in the room as several people jostled in their seats and softly whispered to one another.

Mr. Maurizio continued, ‘Now, now . . . fate silenzio. Shh, amici miei. Let me finish! He wishes to take our tigre back to India to the Ranthambore National Park, the great tigre reserve. Mr. Kadam’s denaro will provide for our troupe for two years! Mr. Davis is in d’accordo with me and also feels that the tiger will be assuredly happier there.’

I glanced at Mr. Davis, who solemnly nodded.

‘It’s agreed we will finish the shows for this week, and then the tigre will go with Mr. Kadam con l’aereo, by airplane, to India, while we will move on to our next city. Dhiren will stay with us this last week until we make the grandioso finale next Saturday!’ the ringleader con-cluded and thumped Mr. Kadam on the back.

The two men turned and disappeared out of the building.

All at once, the hushed crowd started moving around quickly and began talking with each other. Silently, I watched them as they darted back and forth among the different groups like a flock of chickens at feeding time, scuttling in and out of the crowd and pecking for tidbits of information and gossip. They spoke in excited tones and patted each other’s backs, murmuring animated congratulations that their next two years on the road were already paid for.

Everybody was happy except me. I sat there holding the remainder of my muffin in my limp hand. My mouth was still hanging open, and I felt frozen to my chair. After I pulled myself together, I got Matt’s attention.

‘What does this mean for your dad?’

He shrugged. ‘Dad still has the dogs, and he’s always had an interest in working with miniature horses. Now that the circus has more money, maybe Dad can get Mr. Maurizio to purchase a couple that he could start training.’

He walked off while I pondered the question, what does this mean for me? I felt . . . distressed. I knew that this circus gig would end soon anyway, but I’d put it out of my mind. I would really miss Ren. I didn’t realize how much until that very moment. Still, I was happy for him. I sighed and chided myself for getting too emotionally involved.

Despite feeling happy for my tiger, I also felt gloomy knowing I’d miss visiting and talking to him. The rest of that day, I kept busy to keep my mind off it. Matt and I worked all afternoon, and I didn’t have time to see Ren again until after dinner.

I hurried to my tent, grabbed my quilt, journal, and a book, and ran over to the barn. Finding my favorite spot, I sat down with my legs stretched out in front of me.

‘Hey, Ren. Pretty big news for you, huh? You’re going back to India! I really hope you’ll be happy there. Maybe you can find yourself a pretty female tiger.’

I heard a ‘harrumph’ sound come from the cage and thought for a minute. ‘Hey, I hope you still know how to hunt and stuff. Well, I guess being on a reserve they’d keep an eye on you so you don’t waste away.’

I heard a noise coming from the back of the building and turned to see that Mr. Kadam had entered. I sat up a little straighter and felt a little self-conscious for being caught talking to a tiger.

‘I am sorry to interrupt you,’ said Mr. Kadam. He glanced from the tiger to me, studied me carefully, and then stated, ‘You seem to have . . . affection for this tiger. Am I right?’

I answered unguardedly, ‘Yes. I enjoy spending time with him. So do you go around India rescuing tigers? That must be an interesting job.’

Smiling, he replied, ‘Oh, it’s not my main job. My true job is managing a large estate. The tiger is an item of interest for my employer and he’s the one who has made the offer to Mr. Maurizio.’ He found a stool, placed it across from me, and sat down, balancing his tall body on the short stool with a natural ease I would not have expected from an older man.

I asked him, ‘Are you from India?’

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I was born and raised there many years ago. The main holdings of the estate that I manage are there also.’

I picked up a piece of straw and wrapped it around my finger. ‘Why is this owner so interested in Ren?’

His eyes twinkled as he glanced at the tiger briefly and then asked, ‘Do you know the story of the great Prince Dhiren?’