bathing them, the stone didn’t shine.
It finally clicked in my exhausted brain. Kur was a city built of ebonite. Even the sphinxes were matte black, the faintest streaks of red and yellow shining on their high points.
Satan caught up, standing at my side. He looked none the worse for wear despite our long journey, having feasted on the provisions the Irkallans had brought.
He smiled at the long line of arches. “The Gates of the Dead. We’re here.”
29
Melisande
“There’s a tradition here in Kur,” Satan said. He turned and looked at me, his mouth splitting in a wide grin. “Started by the lovely Queen.”
Despite my exhaustion, I itched to slap it off his face. He didn’t deserve a handsome body. He deserved to be a rotting pile of flesh out in the desert, something so noxious even the vultures wouldn’t want him.
“Her sister Inanna once stood where you are, desperate to retrieve her lover.” Satan placed a hand on my shoulder. His skin- Nergal’s skin- was warm, almost sickeningly so. “And, like you, she was a thoughtless, impetuous little bitch. She thought she deserved to walk in exactly as she was.”
Determined to tune him out, I gazed under the Gates of the Dead. Someone was approaching, a black speck on the horizon.
If these were the Gates, where was Kur?
“You’ll suffer the same humiliation she did.” Satan smiled. “A token for every Gate you pass beneath.”
I finally looked at him, hating him with every cell in my body. A token to pass the Gates? A vague memory occurred to me- a woman with long golden hair, passing beneath black arches, shedding jewelry and clothes as she went.
I had no idea where I’d gotten that memory. Everything in my head seemed fuzzy and vague.
They’d already forced me to leave the Spear. They’d taken all my daggers and weapons.
The speck grew larger. A demon galloped towards us, riding a black, red-eyed horse, trailing a small army of lesser demons behind him.
Satan kept his grip on my shoulder as the demon drew close enough to dismount and prostrate himself before the body-stealing cunt.
“King Nergal, you’ve returned.” The demon was wearing a tall hat, and a large gold medallion gleamed on his chest. “I am Minister Neti, here to welcome you.”
It was like they’d all gone mad. They called him by the name of their King, and yet… they knew he wasn’t Nergal.
How much power did Ereshkigal hold that she could just sacrifice her own husband, the King of Kur, and everyone was willing to play along with the insane charade?
Satan shoved me forward. I stumbled and almost fell, and Minister Neti scrambled to his feet to keep from touching me. Four teardrop eyes blinked down at me. “Is… is this yours? Shall she ride?”
Satan laughed. “No. She’ll walk. Treat her the way my wife would treat Inanna.”
Neti’s small mouth fell open, and he shut it with a snap.
I pretended I didn’t see pity in those four alien eyes. I didn’t want pity right now.
Pity would be the straw that finally broke my back.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
Damuzid hauled me upright again, forcing me to stand on wobbling knees. My breath came faster as Neti reached for me, tentative despite Satan’s orders to give me Inanna’s treatment, whatever that meant.
I put all my remaining strength into trying to bite him as his hands drew closer to my face. My teeth snapped shut only inches from his skinny fingers, and Neti squealed and skipped backwards. Damuzid shook me so hard my teeth rattled.
“Get it out of your system, songbird? Or do you need another bruise on your face?”
My neck ached just from that simple movement. “Do your worst.”
Satan laughed with delight. “We will.”
This time I didn’t lunge for Neti as he crept closer, giving Satan sidelong glances as he did so. I’d used up everything I had.
But he didn’t hurt me.
All he did was unbuckle the harness that had held my Spear and several daggers, and dropped it under the shadow of the first Gate.
“She may pass,” he said, wringing his hands.
Satan smiled at me as the first inklings of what a token meant finally dawned in my sleep-deprived, fear-soaked brain.
They pushed forward, Damuzid keeping a tight grip on me. As though I could run. As though I could fly. Pain saturated every inch of me, so familiar now it was almost like an old friend.
I couldn’t run anywhere. There was no place to hide.
The second Gate of the Dead loomed over us, and they stopped again. This time, two