City of the Plague God

by Sarwat Chadda

  “I’m glad you are in her life,” Ishtar went on. “She is going to need you.”

  “Why? She has you.…”

  “Look after her, will you?” Ishtar patted my hand. “I know I can count on you to stick around.”

  “But Nergal is…”

  Ishtar took something from her pocket. “I want you to have this.”

  She handed me a gold signet ring, and I didn’t need to be an archaeologist to know it was ancient. The image was of a lion and a man facing each other.

  “It’s the king’s seal,” she said. “It might help you.”

  “Help how?”

  “Return it to its rightful owner. You’ll find him in Central Park.”

  The ring weighed more than it should. It was heavy with responsibility and power. Judging by its extraordinary size, I had a suspicion the owner was just as extraordinary. “But who is—?”

  She turned as Sargon entered the room. “Ah, the plan takes shape,” she said to herself.

  More cats arrived. Ishtar crouched down and gazed into the eyes of the black one.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  While still communing with the cat, Ishtar said, “I didn’t have the patience or enthusiasm to hunt down my brother-in-law. Instead, I ran around the city, attracting as much attention as I could. Daoud helped. Such a healthy-looking specimen.”

  Oh no. So much suddenly made a lot of awful sense. “You’ve been using Daoud as bait?”

  “He is everything Nergal once was, and no longer is. I hoped to provoke Nergal, to attract him to me, and Daoud is very attractive.” Ishtar stood up and the soft, reflective mother vanished. “Go tell Belet I need Kasusu.”

  “Are you really going to fight—”

  She faced me suddenly. The eyes that had been so warm and compassionate just a minute before were now pitiless black stones, as dark and as dreadful as cold eternity. “Nergal is here,” said the goddess of war.

  “BELET!” I RAN DOWN THE LONG HALL BACK TO THE bedroom. “Belet! Your mom needs you right now!”

  “What’s going on?” Belet rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  “Get Kasusu! Yallah!”

  She went from three-quarters asleep to fully battle-ready in an eyeblink. Belet grabbed the sword, and the two of us dashed downstairs.

  The cats wove around us in what could only be interpreted as feline impatience. Sargon stood by the front door, hissing, his back arched. The others looked just as agitated.

  I sniffed. The foyer’s usual rosy scent had been replaced by a hot, putrid odor.

  Wrinkled, withered petals littered the floor, and all the huge bouquets were now just moldy stalks sagging in their vases.

  A fly buzzed overhead. The black cat switched its tail and growled loudly. The fly took off.

  Belet switched Kasusu from one hand to the other, her gaze darting to the big oak door.

  A bad feeling was creeping up out of my gut. “Let’s wait for your mom.”

  “Why? What’s out there?”

  I hesitated. Things were moving too quickly.

  Belet started. “Nergal.”

  She swung open the door. The cats darted out first and leaped down the steps. Belet followed, rolling her wrists, and Kasusu made long whistles as it cut through the soggy air.

  “Belet! Stay inside!” What was it about her? She constantly had to prove she was the best, even if it meant fighting a god.

  She stood in the middle of the quiet, misty street in her unicorn pajamas. It was still a few hours before dawn, and beyond the small amber pools of light provided by the streetlamps, all else was dark. But creatures moved in that darkness.

  Ishtar had asked me to look after her, so I joined Belet.

  The huge creeping vine that cloaked the house had shriveled; the main trunk and stems sagged and dripped oily sap. The huge red flowers were gone, replaced with wrinkled, withered husks, the petals screwed up and decayed. Beady-eyed rats scurried along the vine, gnawing at it. A hot, foul wind blew down the street, clogging my throat and making my eyes water.

  Swarms of flies buzzed overhead, pulsating with anticipation. They gathered thickest at the north end of the street, around their god.

  Nergal’s pox-covered face peeled into a horrific smile. “Good morning, Niece.”

  Belet swapped Kasusu from hand to hand, her gaze locked on the monstrous giant.

  Nergal’s eyes fell on the sword, and he scowled. Then he pulled forward his own weapon, a twenty-foot-long steel scaffolding pole that had been converted into a crude spear. The tip had been hammered flat, and a jagged blade, three feet long and rusty, had been welded into place. He carried it as if it were made of straw.

  One glance at Belet told me all I needed to know. She wanted to fight.

  I had to stop her.

  So I took a step toward them both. “Can you come back later? We’re kinda busy right now.”

  Belet grabbed my sleeve and pulled me back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Talking our way out of a painful death,” I said from the side of my mouth. I didn’t have any plan, but every second of not dying was a bonus. To Nergal I said, “It’s just I was teaching Belet how to make a decent fatoush.”

  His cloak of flies buzzed angrily. “Fatoush?”

  “Some things can’t be rushed. Come back tomorrow? Maybe make an appointment?”

  Nergal wasn’t alone. Idiptu had gotten himself a replacement bowler hat, this one decorated with red ribbons. Sidana still had his top hat and was finishing off a pre-battle snack, which, from here, looked like a raw hot dog. No, scratch that—just plain dog. Behind them were another dozen or so monstrous creatures, no two alike. One even had the head of a fly and a stunted pair of semi-transparent wings.

  This was the big showdown, so Nergal had brought all fourteen of his demons.

  Still wearing my most confident smile, I whispered, “We’re totally outnumbered. Let’s run away.”

  Belet shook her head. “We’ve got the cats.”

  The kitties were between us and Nergal’s crew, patrolling. This was going to be a short fight, and those cats were going to use up their nine lives pretty fast.

  But the demons weren’t making a move toward us. In fact, some of them seemed pretty worried about the cats.

  Maybe the demons had good reason, because as I watched, the felines’ hisses and purrs deepened into rumbling growls and they grew bigger, becoming…big cats. Literally.

  The black one that had once sat on my lap had turned into a silky black panther, the gray tabby was a snarling leopard, and the tawny pair were now lions—one male, his head framed by a huge dark mane, and the other female. A hulking tiger stepped toward a cluster of demons, and its roar sent them scurrying behind Nergal.

  And Sargon stood at the head of the lethal litter. He’d swapped his old, flabby shape for that of a lion the size of a rhino, fangs the length of cutlasses, and claws that could tear through tanks as if they were tin.

  The odds were swinging waaay into our favor. “Now that is pretty special.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” said Belet. “These are the lamassus.”

  “Lamassus?” I recognized the name. I vaguely remembered Mo showing me a picture of a lamassu in one of his archaeology books. “Weren’t they guardian spirits or something? Didn’t they have—”

  Sargon shook his massive shoulders. Feathers sprouted through the fur. More and more gathered on his back, and a moment later, a pair of huge golden wings unfurled and flapped gently.

  Any other day, any other week, I would have been really amazed. “Yup. Those.”

  Nergal sneered. “I’ve come too far, suffered too much to let a pack of feathered kittens get between me and my prize.” He pointed at me. “Give me the boy and I will leave.”

  The demons gathered into packs, tensing for a charge. The lamassus spread out. The panther perched on the roof of the house, muscles coiled and ready to swoop. The lions positioned themselves on either sid
e of me and snarled.

  “Give me the boy!” Nergal roared.

  “He’s under my protection, dear brother.”

  Ishtar walked down the steps and up in front of us. She moved with a feline, predatory grace, and I understood why the lion was her sacred animal: It was all about languid power. She looked lithe, elegant, relaxed, and deadly. Like the cats, she, too, had transformed. Nothing obvious and crude—she had too much style for vulgar displays of strength—but her entire being seemed more than human, as if her muscles were made of something far stronger than sinew and the heart beating in her chest pumped something greater than blood. Her skin shone as if bathed in moonlight. Ishtar certainly knew how to make an entrance.

  She gave him an exaggerated frown. “Oh, dear. You look terrible. May I suggest moisturizer?”

  The god growled. “Step aside, Ishtar.”

  She turned to Belet and held out her perfectly manicured hand. “I’ll take it from here, sweetheart.”

  “Let me fight him, Mother. I know I can win.”

  “Belet.” I spoke softly. “Please listen to your mom.”

  She looked at me, startled. Then, reluctantly, she held out the sword to her mother.

  Ishtar smiled as she took the weapon. “I love you, Daughter.”

  “Now this is more like it.” Kasusu hummed with contentment.

  Ishtar walked into the space between us and Nergal. “You know how people say you can’t fight in high heels?” She flicked the sword down once to her left, once to her right. The buckles fell from her Jimmy Choos, and Ishtar kicked them off. “They’re absolutely right.”

  The air felt like it did before a severe thunderstorm: alive with unimaginable power. The asphalt under Ishtar’s bare feet cracked, and everything around her and Nergal took on a hazy glow. The colors deepened, glorifying Ishtar and pushing Nergal into a darkness that verged on consuming existence. I swayed unsteadily, and Belet gripped my arm. “God surge. Reality is warping around them.”

  “So, Brother…” The buildings quivered at Ishtar’s words. “Shall we show these mortals how gods fight?”

  “FIGHT, DEAR SISTER? WHY SHOULD WE FIGHT?” Nergal lowered his spear. “You look tired, weary. There is no joy in your face anymore.”

  “I have purpose,” replied Ishtar.

  Nergal scoffed. “Collecting orphans? Does that lift an ounce of guilt? You have been among mortals too long. Gods should not suffer guilt. You are the goddess of war. Celebrate!” He cupped a hand against his withered ear. “Can you not hear the gunfire? The bombs falling across the world? How many last breaths? Your name should be on the lips of the dying.” Nergal extended his palm. “You were great and terrible in your beauty, Ishtar. Be so again.”

  Ishtar flinched. Each of his words hit her hard. Why? Because they were all true. I had glimpsed her soul. I’d seen her on the corpse-littered battlefields, filled with rapture. Part of her wanted to enjoy the bloodshed, even now. She had played the ditzy, glamorous mother to Belet, but now I realized it was all pretense. I saw what Ishtar was, or could be again, and she was terrifying.

  “Very well, Brother,” said Ishtar, a cruel smile spreading across her crimson lips. “If war is what you wish for, then war is what you’ll have.”

  Nergal’s eyes narrowed. “Sister, you do not—”

  She launched herself at Nergal, and the thunderous impact shook the ground. Together they flew dozens of yards, crashing into a building. As they tore through the other side and hit the asphalt again, the world warped and buckled around them. Nergal hoisted a white van over his head, the metal groaning in his grip, then hurled it at her. Ishtar leaped out of the way. Barely tensing her legs, she shot up over one of the apartment buildings, Kasusu shrieking with metallic laughter.

  God surge. That’s how they did the impossible. You couldn’t jump hundreds of feet in a single blink unless distances shrank at your will. You couldn’t lift a three-ton vehicle unless you adjusted gravity, and how could you survive piling through a building unless you were able to manipulate energy?

  While most of Nergal’s demons milled around warily, one skittered into attack mode. It ran on too many legs and had heads all over its torso, fanged and dripping with venom. It pounced at Ishtar from behind—I yelled a warning—but the goddess flicked Kasusu over her head and neatly bisected the monstrosity. Black bile oozed out of its sliced body.

  Nergal roared as he flung another car at his sister-in-law. It missed her but took out the corner flower shop. The building began to totter.

  I grabbed Belet’s hand. “We’ve got to get people out of here.”

  Even as I spoke, doors were swinging open and residents, some still in their pajamas, were stumbling out. One old guy still had a bowl of cereal in his hand. “Is it an earthquake?”

  I let go of Belet and waved people toward the far end of the street. “Just run!” I told them. Belet left me to direct others away from the monsters and destruction.

  I dashed up to the next brownstone and began banging on the door. “Everyone out right now!” More people spilled out, dazed, confused, and frightened.

  “Sik! Sik!”

  Daoud shouted from Ishtar’s doorway, looking frantic. Or as frantic as you can while wearing an avocado face mask.

  “Run, Daoud!”

  He staggered down the front steps to join me and stared in horror at the carnage. Then he gasped. “My portfolio!”

  “Ya Allah!” I took both his arms and tried to shake some sense into him. “You have to be joking! Leave it! It’s not important!”

  “It’s everything, Sik! You don’t understand!”

  The whole street trembled and cracks formed in the walls of Ishtar’s house. It was going to come down and still Daoud was pulling toward the door.

  “Listen to me, Daoud. Really listen,” I dug my fingers into his arms. “I know how much Mo meant to you.”

  Daoud faced me, and for the first time, I saw the pain in his eyes. “More than you know, Sik.”

  “He’d want us to look out for each other, right?”

  He nodded.

  Phew. I loosened my hold. “C’mon. Let’s get out of—”

  Daoud tore away and ran back into the house.

  “Daoud!” What was he doing? The front door splintered, and I saw the chandeliers swinging wildly in the foyer. Priceless artifacts tumbled off their pedestals, shattering on the marble floor. But I’d meant what I said. I had to go after him.

  “Sik!” screamed Belet, running toward me.

  Nergal dropped 12 Venus Street on Ishtar. It had little effect on her—she zoomed upward as though the bricks were made of Styrofoam—but number 10 began leaning into the already crumbling number 8, and the whole north side of the street was going to fall like a line of dominoes.

  You know what people do when they face danger, death, and destruction? Yeah, they get out their phones and start recording.

  “I don’t believe it,” Belet muttered.

  “That’s because you’re not from around here.” I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled at a twenty-something guy. “You! Run! Now!”

  He didn’t. He stayed exactly where he was, trying to find the best angle, right until the sidewalk opened next to his feet. Then he started screaming and running.

  I took Belet’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s go and—”

  Then we both turned as something crashed down behind us.

  How can I describe this new demon? Start with a silverback gorilla, remove the fur, add scales, and stick an extra pair of arms in the wrong places. It swung itself forward on its knuckles and snarled.

  Belet stood her ground, fists raised high and close. “Long time no see, Saghulhaza. You still licking Nergal’s feet?”

  Of course she would be on a first-name basis with the monsters.

  I tried to get past the gorilla demon, but it growled and two pairs of claws stretched out from its fists.

  I stepped back. “Remember, Saggy, your boss wants me alive.”

 
It smiled and said in a screechy voice, “Alive, but not necessarily whole.”

  The demon spun around as Sargon, now a giant winged lion, swooped down on it, burying his claws into its back and fangs into its neck. The two tumbled into the ruins, tearing out chunks of feathers, fur, and scales.

  “Got it!”

  Daoud stood at the doorway, waving his portfolio. He jumped down the steps as the house crumbled behind him and dashed straight for Ishtar’s Jaguar, which was parked out front and, miraculously, had escaped damage. Had Ishtar gifted it to him? Regardless, he opened it with the key fob and tossed the precious portfolio in the back seat. “Yallah, guys!”

  I wasn’t leaving, not without Belet, and she wasn’t leaving without Ishtar, and Ishtar wasn’t leaving until Nergal was dead. So we were all staying put. I shot a look at Daoud. He bit his lip, unable to decide whether or not to go. His decision was made when Ishtar’s brownstone collapsed, turning into a pile of rubble. Daoud slammed his foot on the gas pedal and roared away.

  The nearest fashion boutique suddenly cracked in half as Ishtar smashed Nergal through the glazed facade and most of its support columns.

  Ishtar paused and glanced back at me.

  We had a deal. She wanted to know that I’d honor it.

  Be her friend, Sikander. She will need you.

  Belet saw me nod at Ishtar. “What’s going on? Sik?”

  The goddess smiled. She lifted her sword and went into the dense cloud of dust after Nergal.

  Then the air was cut by a high-pitched keening, rising until my ears ached.

  The building erupted. Belet and I jumped behind a car as the street was filled with millions of shards of razor-sharp glass. The sound was almost musical, as if we were under a waterfall of tinkling diamonds.

  I glanced over the hood.

  The fashion boutique was cloaked in dust.

  Then Ishtar stumbled out of the ruin, dragging Kasusu along. Her clothes were bloody and torn and her hair disheveled. From the way she limped, it looked like her leg was injured.

  Belet gasped. “Mother!”

  Ishtar shook dust out of her hair and waved.

  Where was Nergal? Was it over?