The Blade's Shadow (Ishtar's Legacy Book 4)

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The Blade's Shadow (Ishtar's Legacy Book 4) Page 12

by Lisa Blackwood


  Chapter 22

  Hashur winged his way closer to the grand palace. He could already see the souls of gryphons and humans patrolling the walls, ever vigilant against Ereshkigal. Though there was little the Queen of the Underworld could do without breaking the ancient pact and possibly gaining the Kur’s wrath and finding herself evicted from her kingdom.

  While Hashur had never seen the Kur show anything as strong as wrath, it did not think or reason like any soul or god he’d ever encountered. It was wholly other in its nature.

  But even Ereshkigal respected the Kur enough not to tests the limits of its benevolence.

  Still, the citizens of this palace would not let their guard down. They’d suffered too much of Ereshkigal’s rages when they lived in the mortal world.

  This was Tammuz’s home. A place the Kur had built for him where even Ereshkigal could not venture. The god of the harvest and shepherds ruled here, but he wasn’t the only being to call this place home.

  Every king and queen of the gryphons, their Blades, guardsmen, mentors, and loyal vassals lived here. This mirror kingdom of New Sumer was Ishtar’s worshippers’ stronghold in the underworld.

  Here, her followers were safe from any kind of retribution from Ereshkigal.

  As Hashur closed the distance, the guards didn’t target him with their weapons. Good. Typically, none were foolish enough to attack an Anunnaki unprovoked, certainly not one of the nine judges. But with everything else that had unfolded in the last few days, he wouldn’t have been surprised by anything.

  Hashur called a greeting as he came in for a landing. “I must speak with King Hillalum and Queen Amata.”

  “Hah,” a female voice chortled. “It’s about time one of the judges came and explained why agents of Ereshkigal are allowed to keep sending my descendants to me far too young.”

  Hashur turned to gaze upon a heavily armored Blade. Not just any Blade; the first Blade.

  “Queen Amata,” Hashur gave her a respectful nod. “It has come to my attention that Ereshkigal has overstepped her authority of late.”

  “You think so, do you?” Amata gave a sarcastic bark of laughter. “If that hag keeps this up, she will find the pact broken, and herself surrounded by many furious Blades.”

  Hashur cleared his throat, keeping his beak closed tight to stop a laugh. Amata, while having been a queen for a very long time, had started life as a simple, if fierce, shepherdess. After all, she’d tamed the first gryphon king. Or perhaps Hillalum had tamed her. Hashur had never really been certain of that detail.

  “While I cannot undo everything Ereshkigal’s agents have done,” Hashur began, “I think I can achieve balance if you hear me out.”

  Amata slammed her crystalline sword back in its scabbard. “Very well. You talk prettily. Come inside, and you can keep talking. I’m sure Hillalum will like to know what you plan to do to protect his brood.”

  Hashur had heard the first gryphon king was as protective of his descendants, his brood as he liked to call them, as Amata was.

  Following her inside, Hashur noted the similarity of this place to Nineveh in the living world. He descended the stairs and came to a landing where several Blade’s lined the corridor.

  “You expected me,” he blurted.

  “Of course, we did,” Amata huffed. “Prophecy runs in the royal line. Hillalum and several of our children’s children saw your coming.”

  This time it was Hashur who barked with laughter. “No one surprises this city I suppose.”

  “No.” Amata’s humor melted away. “If only our enemies were smart enough to figure out they just make us stronger and angrier each time they send more of our kin to the spirit world before their proper time. If Ereshkigal keeps up this foolish vendetta, she will find herself without a crown.”

  A spike of unease shivered through Hashur. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. Ever. A war between spirits would unbalance not just this realm, but the heavens and all living worlds as well.

  Good thing Hashur had a plan to sooth ruffled feathers and restore the balance.

  “Hear me out before you plan for a war,” Hashur soothed.

  Chapter 23

  Torches cast a flickering light against the temple pillars as Asharru’s shadow danced across those same columns. Beside her, Laliya danced in a rhythmic swaying motion in counterpoint to Asharru. Candles burned upon the altar, lighting its surface and casting a stone bowl and a large owl in a soft glow.

  The owl sat upon its perch, watching the two women with round, unblinking eyes. Did the bird find their dance a strange sight? It wasn’t commonplace to see a high priestess and a queen dancing for an owl.

  Perhaps long ago this bird’s ancestors had found such rituals common.

  But it had been hundreds of years since the last Anunnaki of the underworld had been summoned to this temple. And, even back then, the ritual was more likely performed in one of Ereshkigal’s derelict temples.

  There hadn’t been a temple dedicated to the Queen of the Underworld within New Sumer’s borders since the war between the sister goddesses had grown bitter.

  Later Asharru would ask Ishtar’s forgiveness for using her temple to summon one of the underworld Anunnaki. Asharru comforted herself knowing that this one was—if not Ishtar’s ally—at least he wasn’t an enemy.

  Circling closer and closer to the altar and the owl, Laliya came to a stop in front of the stone pedestal. As Asharru watched, the other woman whispered a prayer and then raised the small knife to nick the skin of her right forearm.

  Holding the stone bowl below that small wound, she waited until ten drops of blood had mixed with the dark wine in the bowl, then with another chanted prayer, she dipped her fingers in and sprinkled the owl.

  Shaking himself, the owl turned his head enough to glower up at Laliya.

  Then it was Asharru’s turn to approach. She lifted a small gold tray holding choice bits of a lion’s heart and then fed tiny morsels to the disgruntled owl.

  Asharru had never considered herself squeamish, but as a gryphon, she shared a kinship with both eagles and lions. Feeding the owl bits of a lion felt a little too much like cannibalism even though she wasn’t eating the meat herself.

  At least the bloody treats seemed to put the owl in a better mood. He fluffed his feathers and observed her.

  Laliya’s chant drifted to silence, but Asharru knew this was when she would whisper the Anunnaki’s true name. After a few moments, the other woman’s voice grew stronger again, rising to soar high and clear before escaping on the night breeze to be carried far beyond the temple.

  Magic flared in the bowl of blood and wine, a bright flash that swiftly faded. As the glow diminished, it seemed to take some warmth from the air with it. A chill grew in the temple’s interior, making the hair on Asharru’s body rise.

  But there was something more to this unnatural chill, and moments later, a form took shape in the shadows to Asharru’s right, rising out of the ground.

  The tall, well-muscled form of the eagle-headed Anunnaki she’d first known as Nutesh and then later as Hashur had arrived. He flicked his wings as if he’d just come in for a landing after a long flight. Then he was stepping forward between two pillars, and Asharru could see him in more detail.

  But his presence was not so great that she missed the other two dim and hard to make out figures moving behind him.

  She hadn’t been aware he planned to bring friends. She was just drawing breath to ask who they were when she recognized the shimmering ghost of Zinura. That came as a surprise, but it was nothing compared to the man who glided out from behind the Anunnaki’s broad wings.

  Asharru gasped in surprise, then her lungs stilled, so great was her shock. Behind her, just outside the row of columns, Hunzuu made a sound that was half gasp and half grunt, like the force of his shock had just soundly kicked him in the stomach. She could relate as she stared at an impossibility.

  It couldn’t be.

  But it was.

  Ti
rigan was suddenly at her shoulder, having sensed her distress or perhaps not trusting their new ‘ally’ as much as the others. Her Blade raised his sword.

  Asharru placed a restraining hand on Tirigan’s arm. “Wait. He’s not here to hurt us.”

  The soul of the young man looked exactly like he had in life.

  “Hello, Little Ru,” Kadashman said, that familiar smile she remembered so well spreading over his face and lighting his eyes. “I’ve missed you something fierce.”

  Chapter 24

  Even if the disembodied soul hadn’t called Asharru ‘Little Ru’, Tirigan would have known by Asharru’s reaction who this male was. She stood there, frozen in place, shaking in response. Then, slowly, she reached out one hand toward Kadashman.

  The spirit came to her and reached for her in turn, but their fingers drifted through each other’s grasp.

  “I would hug you if I could, dear Asharru,” Kadashman said. “But I can’t interact with the living world.”

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, Asharru made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

  “I am. And I’m here to help defeat our enemies. I shall not allow them to slay you, too, my sister.”

  Asharru reached out again, instinctively trying to hug Kadashman but pulled up at the last moment and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Tirigan moved closer until he was a substantial presence Asharru could lean against if she needed.

  Kadashman nodded at him in acknowledgment. “Blade.”

  A sudden sound of boots on stone as the owner leaped up the temple stairs two at a time, drew Kadashman’s attention. The ghost looked over Tirigan’s shoulder.

  Kuri, who had lost a bet with Hunzuu, had been stationed at the bottom of the temple with the newest of the Shadow Guards, overseeing them and making sure no enemy approached from the ground.

  Tirigan had never seen Kuri stumble in any of their training sessions, but suddenly she seemed to lose all coordination and came to a stumbling halt between two pillars.

  The spirit’s expression changed, taking on a mix of love and sorrow.

  “Hello Kuri, my love. Leaving you was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Kadashman whispered.

  She stood there, the look of shock on her face much the same as Asharru had worn only moments ago. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Then, at last, she released a strangled sob and rushed forward, arms wide as if to scoop him up in a strong embrace, only to pull up short like Asharru had, realizing there was nothing to hold on to.

  “Kadashman,” Kuri whispered on a sob.

  The ghostly king raised his hand and gently traced his fingers along her cheek. To judge by how she stiffened and then cupped his hand against her face, there was some kind of sensation where the spirit touched her.

  Tirigan thought he might know what it felt like as he remembered the feeling of chill that had passed through his body when an Anunnaki had drifted through him that time, months ago, when he’d faced one in battle. Briefly, he wondered if that Anunnaki had been Nutesh.

  Not that it mattered now. There were more pressing concerns.

  “I would hold you if I could,” Kadashman whispered lovingly to Kuri.

  “I know.” Then she steeled herself. Tirigan could see her drawing herself up. “How long can you stay?”

  Kadashman glanced toward the fierce looking eagle-headed Anunnaki. “That depends on our friend over there.”

  All eyes then turned toward the Anunnaki they’d once known as Nutesh.

  He gaped his beak at them and laughed. The sound had a strained tone to it, though. “How long we all stay entirely depends on how fast we can find host bodies for my two companions. I can’t hold their souls in this plane for long. They need bodies as swiftly as possible. I won’t be granted a second chance at this. The other judges will have figured out what I have been about.”

  Hunzuu came forward then.

  “If my King needs a body, he can have mine.” Hunzuu held a knife in one hand, the point pressed to the skin just over his heart as he looked Kadashman in the eye. “I failed you once before, I won’t fail you again.”

  Kuri rushed up to Hunzuu, stared him down for long moments, and then slapped him soundly on the side of the head.

  “You are the last male Kadashman will take as a host. If Kadashman has returned, I plan to have him as a mate at last. Nothing will stop us from coming together. Unless he takes my brother as host.” She smacked him alongside the head again for good measure and then leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together and continued in a softer voice. “Beloved idiot, I don’t want to live without you either.”

  “I thank you for the offer, Hunzuu,” Kadashman said in regal tones. “But I must agree with your sister. I would not take you as my host even if you were the only male available. Besides, I won’t take an innocent life to restore my own, and never my oldest friend’s.”

  Hashur clacked his beak and chuckled. “I don’t plan to kill an innocent either. There are plenty of evil-hearted men and women, but even that isn’t necessary. I’ve just discovered there’s been a fishing boat accident not too far from here and several drowned. If we act swiftly, I have magic gifted to me by Tammuz that will allow us to revive the bodies and use them as hosts since the spirits will have already fled by the time we reach them.”

  Asharru and Kuri were the first to recover, even though they’d been the most affected by the shock of seeing Kadashman again.

  “We go now,” Asharru commanded, leaving no doubt for anyone listening that it was Queen Asharru speaking this order.

  Chapter 25

  Surrounded by watchful Shadows and her Blade, Asharru surveyed the heartbreaking scene along the beach. The Anunnaki’s magic had allowed him to track souls that were soon to journey to the next life, and he’d found this lonely stretch of beach on an uninhabited island near Uruk.

  When the thought of having her brother back in some fashion had still been an abstract idea, she’d been overjoyed at the possibility of having him in her life again. And she always wanted that….

  But this, seeing the young male gryphon, bedraggled and lifeless, trapped in a fishing net that had been his death, brought unexpected tears to her eyes. He’d been one of her subjects.

  Young and robust until the ocean had taken him.

  Had he been kind? Did he have a mate and cubs back at home?

  She felt a strange kinship to this male. Her beast confirmed that he’d been like her, a half-breed. But it was more than just that. “I’m sorry your life was cut short,” she whispered as she knelt next to the body while some of the Shadows were even now cutting him free of the netting to drag him higher up on the beach. “But your death had given my brother another chance at life. Thank you.”

  At that moment, Asharru knew she’d remember this day for the rest of her life and into the next. One day, a long time from now when her own life was over, she vowed to seek the soul of this young male and tell him he had saved a king’s life.

  While she was whispering a prayer over him, Shadows were dragging other bodies from the water. Hashur said there’d been a shipwreck, that the father had gone overboard when they ran aground on a reef in the choppy seas.

  The young gryphon had shifted and entered the water to drag his father from the net that held him trapped only to get entangled himself. A woman had washed up with the pair.

  The gryphon’s younger sister, Hashur told her. She’d gone in after them both and lost her life as she’d tried to cut the others free of the net.

  Such a waste.

  “Fate can be cruel,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” Tirigan agreed, his voice held a hollow note. “But we endure everything that is thrown at us, fight to our last breath. We battle on, no matter what.”

  Was that how her poor Blade had survived being enslaved all those years?

  Hashur and Kadashman joined them then, the Anunnaki kneeling next to the body. With a flick of h
is wrist, he cast a sprinkling of magic upon the gryphon, blessing the body. The magic outlined every damaged feather and tuft of wet fur before sinking below the surface.

  “This one isn’t noble blood or even a full-blood gryphon, but he’s young, and once restored to health, he will be strong.” The Anunnaki paused to look at Kadashman. “But he was also brave and fearless in life. It’s what made him dive into the ocean knowing he might not come out again. That same bravery makes him a worthy host for a king.”

  Kadashman looked down at the male, sorrow evident in his gaze. Was her brother remembering what it was like to die and leave all he loved behind?

  At last Kadashman gave himself a little shake and leaned down over the body. “My mother was neither noble nor a full-blood gryphon. I’ll be comfortable in this body.”

  Asharru didn’t miss how Kadashman had glanced a little uncertainly at Kuri when he spoke.

  The guardswoman laughed with tears gleaming in her eyes. “I’d love you even if all you could find was a female body to act as your host. Of course, I’m fine with this body. Any form is acceptable as long as you stay with me. I don’t… I can’t. Don’t leave me again. I can live with anything except your absence.”

  Kadashman nodded, and then he glanced up at Hashur.

  “Go on,” Hashur urged. “The longer you wait, the harder it will be to restore the body.”

  Kadashman nodded again and then his form shimmered and lost its shape, becoming a pale glowing luminescence that slowly sank into the body.

  As Asharru watched, the Anunnaki wove a spell. He held his hand out, palm facing down toward the body as magic bled from his skin to ignite his magnificent set of double wings. Hashur’s power expanded, reaching for the body lying on the damp sand.

  Even several paces away, Asharru could feel the heat rippling through the air and around the body.

  This was nothing like an Anunnaki’s raw power. This was the warmth of life.

  Tammuz’s magic.

 

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