City of the Plague God

by Sarwat Chadda

  “Pretty…awesome?”

  He grinned and gave me a squeeze.

  With Mo at my side, I could take on anyone and anything. Next we just had to make a short paddle across the Sea of Tiamat, and the flower was as good as plucked.

  We both walked over to Gilgamesh’s boat. I tried to lift one end. It didn’t budge. I wiped off some of the moss so I could look at it more closely.

  The boat was made out of stone. Even the two paddles lying within it were marble. Just great. How was a thing this heavy supposed to float? We couldn’t even move it. I pushed while Mo pulled. I pulled while he pushed. We both pulled and then we both pushed.

  Not. One. Inch.

  I sank down beside it. “This must weigh a couple of tons. It’s not going anywhere.”

  “Does it need to? Erishkigal said something about the sea coming to us, remember?”

  Hands on hips, sweating, I scanned the forest in all directions. “That doesn’t make sense. There’s no shore anywhere near here.”

  Mo took a seat on the bench in the boat. “You’ve just got to have faith.”

  “This is stupid,” I declared. It felt like we’d been sitting in the boat for hours. “Nothing’s happening.”

  Mo picked up one of the paddles. “Sea of Tiamat, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The primordial ocean from which all existence arose. Bottomless trenches, gigantic whirlpools, tempests ravaging the surface, and who-knows-what kind of leviathans patrolling its depths. Waves so high they could drown continents. This is going to be an adventure.”

  “If you say so,” I replied glumly.

  He cast his gaze at my bag. “Got any more of those cookies?”

  I handed one over and took another for myself. Each bite sent a sugary tingle along my tongue. Gilgamesh really knew how to bake.

  He laughed. “Do you remember that time we went rowboating in Central Park?”

  “Right after you made me watch Jaws?”

  Mo nodded. “Baba had to wade in to carry you out on his back. Made it halfway before he slipped, and then those screams!”

  “Something did bite me!”

  Mo wiped the tears from his eyes. “Have you ever taken a bath since? Filled the tub deeper than your ankles?”

  “Showers save water. I’m doing it for the environment.”

  “Riiiight, Sik. Of course you are.”

  I couldn’t believe I had missed this guy.

  We waited some more. The moss was staining my pants. “This is stupid,” I said again.

  Mo nudged me with his big toe. “Weren’t you given a magical incantation or something?”

  I sighed. “No, I forgot to go see Professor Dumbledore.”

  “You know what the most amazing part of all this is?” Mo idly tapped the bottom of the canoe with his paddle. “You actually got out of Manhattan.”

  I lifted the other paddle and added a little beat of my own. “‘When a man is tired of Manhattan, he is tired of life.’ I read that somewhere.” I looked out at the still-waterless surroundings. “Why did you always want to leave?”

  “All those stories Mama and Baba used to tell, about their old home, the world they used to live in…Didn’t you ever want to see it for yourself?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about your heritage?” asked Mo. “Isn’t it important to know where you come from?”

  “I’m more worried about where I’m headed.” The canoe rocked from a slight tremor under us. The branches of the trees swayed in a rising breeze. A stronger gust blew, carrying with it a faint roar.

  Mo gripped his paddle. “Is Humbaba coming back?”

  The wind picked up and the ground trembled as the horizon began to rise above the treetops.

  And that roar…“It’s a tidal wave, Mo.”

  I stared as water rushed toward us, growing higher and higher, closer and closer.

  The Sea of Tiamat was coming to us. The trees were torn from their roots as it crashed through the forest. How high was it now? Hundreds of feet for sure, and still rising, until it blocked out the sky.

  “Hang on!” yelled Mo.

  I grabbed the sides of the boat and bent over, wedging the paddle across my lap and chest. I took a deep breath—

  And the wave struck.

  IT WAS WORSE THAN BEING CRUSHED UNDER A train. That had been bright light and—smash!—all over in an instant. Here, gigantic waves pounded us over and over again, never giving us a moment to recover.

  The noise of the crashing waves reached into my bones, shaking me so hard I felt like a tomato in a blender. The canoe, and us clinging on with every ounce of strength, spun in the barrage of churning water. We rolled without letup as we were dragged into the lightless ocean depths. With eyes squeezed shut, teeth locked together, and lungs screaming for air, I absorbed every wave, each one loosening my grip just a little bit more. But I knew that if I let go, I’d be lost forever. The canoe, pathetic as it was, was our only hope. Mo knocked against me with each churn.

  We were forced deeper and deeper underwater, the devastating roaring receding into a dull, faraway drone. The viselike pressure of countless tons of water above compressed me from every direction, and my lungs were full of agonizing fire. Just one gasp of air, that’s all I wanted.

  Then, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more and felt my hands slip, we shot up. The pressure lessened as, instant by instant, the colossal weight lifted. I renewed my grip on the canoe as it accelerated up from the depths.

  We sprang out of the water, grabbing a moment of hang time before smacking down onto the sea’s surface. I gasped and released my aching fingers.

  A storm raged. Heavy black clouds battled lightning in the churning sky and pelted us with leaden raindrops.

  Wave after wave broke over our ancient stone boat, and yet it—somehow—stayed buoyant.

  I jumped as Mo slapped my back. “You okay, Sik?”

  I twisted around. “Not at—”

  “Ya salam!” He laughed. He turned his face to the sky, his eyes closed, and let the rain hit it. “Can you believe we’re here? The Sea of Tiamat!”

  Guess what? I started laughing, too. That was the thing about Mo—his joy just carried you along. I was freezing, my stomach was doing double flips, and each fresh wave felt like it was going to drown me, but so what? I was with my brother, the guy who’d been my hero since the day I was born.

  “Watch this, Sik!” shouted Mo. He began to stand up.

  I grabbed him. “Sit back—”

  Mo raised the paddle aloft. “Come on, gods! Is that the best you’ve got? We’ll take you on! My brother and I against you all!”

  How could you not love him?

  Mo pointed ahead with the paddle and cried, “Look!”

  The rain and sea spray stung my eyes, reducing everything to a blur, but as the lightning flashed, it lit—for a second—something jutting out of the sea. Oily black, slick, and sharp.

  Wobbling, I stood up for a better look.

  An ugly rock stood defiantly against the sea with five jagged spires projecting from it, as though a hand were clawing its way out. Waves crashed against it, swamping it for a moment before surging away, leaving it bold and grimly reaching upward. The surface was covered with razor-sharp edges and spikes, seemingly impervious to the smoothing effects of the seawater barrage.

  Mo dropped back into the canoe and grabbed his paddle. “What do you think?”

  “It has to be.”

  Without another word, we started paddling toward the Rock of Nisir.

  For every wave we conquered, another rose up in front of us, higher than the last. Wind skimmed the crests of the waves, throwing thick spray straight into our faces. I could barely feel my fingers—they’d gone numb.

  “Are we there yet?” shouted Mo.

  I didn’t have enough spare breath to answer. Instead, I heaved the paddle through the black water, eyes glued to the rock still achingly far ahead of us.

  But then, whe
n I stopped to swipe dripping hair out of my face, the Rock of Nisir suddenly rose before us. One minute, it had looked like an arm sticking out of the waves; now it was an ominous black-granite mountain surrounded by half-submerged clawlike reefs.

  The canoe rose up on the crest of a wave, and the next thing I knew we were roller-coastering down the slope, faster and faster, headed straight for the rocky protrusions.

  “Abandon ship!” I yelled, and dived over the side.

  I went straight down, briefly sensing the second splash as Mo came in after me. Blinking against the stinging seawater, I watched as the spikes of rock shattered the stone hull.

  I came up for a second, took a deep breath, and swam for the rock, timing my strokes so I wouldn’t be thrown onto the lethal surface.

  My arms ached from the paddling, but I managed to get them on a low, horizontal ledge and hoist myself up onto it.

  “Sik!”

  Mo battled the sea. The tide had him and was pulling him away. Even as I leaned out, stretching my hand as far as it would go, I knew I couldn’t reach him.

  I whipped off my string bag. I swung it over my head, my frozen fingers curled around the stone toggle. I hoped the bag would give us the extra length we needed. “Catch!”

  Before my eyes, the bag grew.

  Its ordinary dull strings transformed into a glowing gold net, and as I cast it, it spread wider and wider, wrapping itself around Mo. I drew him up onto the shelf without effort, as though the net itself were doing all the work. Warmth radiated from it, making Mo’s wet clothes hiss with steam as he clambered onto the narrow ledge and collapsed next to me. The net shrank back into its bag shape, the glow dimming.

  He panted hard, his head tilted back. “That…that…that was exciting.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  Mo sat up beside me and leaned over to get a better look at the bag. “Handy little item. Where’d you get it?”

  “Gilgamesh gave it to me.”

  “Let’s have a look.” Mo held it up, and then peered closely at the toggle. “See this?”

  I squinted at it. I hadn’t paid any attention to the toggle before, but now I could see it was engraved with a four-pointed star. “And…that means what, exactly?”

  “Symbol of Shamash, the patron god of kings, and the guy who had a magical net capable of trapping all sorts of terrible evils. You’re very lucky to have such a powerful gift.”

  “If you say so.” The string bag, soaked through, sagged and looked really pretty lame as powerful gifts went. And of course I’d lost the remaining cookies.

  The sea surged around us, crashing against the rock. The black water had leeched all warmth out of me, and my teeth chattered, but that may also have been because I was petrified out of my mind.

  Mo, however, was raring to go. He grinned and said, “According to Erishkigal, the flower’s in a cave down below. Let’s go find it.”

  “Just like that, huh? How do you know we won’t drown?”

  “Hey, I’m dead and you’re immortal. What could possibly go wrong?”

  I hate it when someone says that. But I didn’t have much choice. “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

  We slid off the nice, safe shelf and back into the sea. Mo and I put our hands on each other’s shoulders, and we bobbed together in the rising waves. The sea spray hit my eyes, but I locked my attention on him.

  “Stay close to the rock, Sik. We’ll use it to push ourselves downward. Side by side, okay?”

  I admit I was too frightened to speak, so I gave him the okay sign instead. He smiled. “I’ll be right beside you, Yakhi.”

  Sometimes that’s all you need.

  “Don’t fight it,” said Mo, before sinking under the waves.

  I gulped down as much air as I could, hoping it would last long enough.

  And down I went.

  I IMMEDIATELY PANICKED.

  I needed to go back up! I had to breathe!

  But I forced my hands against my sides, locked my legs together, and descended. The sea was murky.

  I pursed my lips, trying to hold in oxygen, but the pain in my chest was increasing. I could just make out Mo, waiting a dozen feet below. He beckoned to me. I accidentally opened my mouth, and water rushed in.

  I reacted instinctively, coughing violently, trying to vomit out the seawater, but each gasp just dragged more in. I stared at the surface, desperate to beat my way up to the glorious air, but…but…

  I stopped trying to breathe. I…didn’t need to.

  Weird. Very weird.

  I started sinking. Now that there was no air left in my lungs, all my buoyancy was gone. I kicked toward Mo.

  Okay? he signaled.

  I answered with the same.

  He stuck his thumb down. Descend.

  The current wasn’t as powerful. It was calm down here, peaceful. We’d left the raging storm above us.

  We entered a school of fish, their scales patterned with scintillating colors as they investigated us. Even as they swam, they evolved. Second by second, their fins altered, their bodies grew longer or shorter, and they mutated from species to species. Then, with a flick of their tails, they darted away into the great void. Other creatures lurked just on the edge of sight. Massive shapes made their leisurely way through Tiamat’s world, our presence too insignificant for them to notice.

  In contrast to its all-black surface, the submarine section of the Rock of Nisir was vividly bright, clad in rosy coral and coated in plant life. Vast clumps of seaweed swayed in the current, forests of red and blue and green and all hues in between, home to creatures that had never existed in the natural world. We explored a universe of beautiful monsters.

  There was other treasure to be discovered as well. We swam near a long, curved section of wall to watch a family of giant crabs picking among five pillars. One of the pillars wore a ring. The coral had grown over it and it was covered with barnacles, but huge gems—rubies the size of my head and diamonds even bigger—glowed within the darkness. The gold band peeked out from algae patches.

  Then I saw something that made me quickly paddle backward.

  A gigantic skeleton was embedded in the coral. The skull was the size of a house, with its jaw hanging loosely open, easily wide enough to swim inside—not that I wanted to. The jaw still held teeth: fangs the length and thickness of an elephant’s tusks. Bright red and orange plants sprouted within one of its eye sockets. I could make out the spine and ribs—wearing a breastplate of eroded greenish bronze—but the rest of the skeleton was too deep within the coral now.

  Mo pressed his palms together and bowed as if praying. Then he waved his arm as though…fencing?

  I gazed back at the ancient giant. There had been a battle between gods once. This was one of the losers.

  I gestured to my brother. We had to go deeper.

  We pushed against the rock to propel ourselves downward, the eerie glow of the plants lighting the way. Greater sea creatures glided past, their bodies decorated with pulsating, magical designs. I was so awestruck I was no longer frightened.

  But there was a yawning abyss below us. A dark patch with no glowing plants. We swam toward it, and I realized it was a hole in the rock. A cave.

  The cave?

  You could have driven a jumbo jet through the opening, maybe even two. It was pitch-black, except for a small, shimmering pale light coming from deep within. We swam in side by side, our strokes evenly matched. The golden light shone brighter as we approached, and the current felt warmer. The glow was coming from an opening above us—a small chimney was allowing light to shine down to the water beneath. My heart started racing as I kicked upward and broke the surface of the air pocket.

  I coughed out water as oxygen rushed into my lungs to replace it. My chest spasmed, and it hurt more than drowning had. But the viselike grip against my ribs eventually lifted, and then, fingers clasping a sloping ledge, I pulled myself out into a small grotto.

  “Make way, Yakhi,” Mo said behind m
e.

  I grabbed his sleeve and helped him out.

  We were on our hands and knees, aching all over, exhausted. I could barely keep myself from collapsing facedown. All I wanted to do was sleep right there for a hundred days.

  When we had caught our breath, we looked around the space. Unbelievably, green vines wove their way through the coral. Thick, sinuous branches hung over our heads, sagging with immense age. They all fed to an alcove in the back. I stumbled to my feet so I could trace them.

  “Ya salam.…” A tree rose out of the uneven floor. Within its trunk was a hollow holding a single white flower, its petals shining softly. As I got closer, a gentle warmth engulfed me, lifting the tiredness away. I felt a fresh, raw energy surging through me. I tingled from head to toe.

  “Good job, Sik,” whispered Mo as he came up from behind to gaze at the flower.

  We had done it. Our parents could be cured. Nergal could be defeated and New York would be saved.

  We’d found the flower of immortality.

  “IT’S DIFFERENT FROM THE ONE I FOUND. MORE beautiful by far,” whispered Mo. “All those centuries in the Iraqi desert changed the other one.”

  “Great. Let’s grab it and get going.” Curved thorns coated the stem. I had a feeling they’d be painfully sharp.

  “Sik! This isn’t a dandelion littering the lawn. This is a sacred artifact. A holy object. You need to treat it with—”

  I went up to the flower and, using my sleeve, plucked it off its stalk. “You were saying?”

  “You have no soul. No poetry of the spirit.”

  It still glowed, and I felt a gentle pulse of something warm and powerful radiating from the shimmering petals. “I have plenty of poetry.”

  “Ha!”

  I wasn’t exactly an expert on flowers, but this one looked more like an old rose than an orchid, small and cupped by petals as soft as dreams. It was difficult to look at it too closely—there seemed to be too many petals, all spiraling inward forever. Its perfume was delicate, changing from moment to moment, sometimes light and fresh, then heavy and cloying. I shook my head to clear it. “There once was a boy named Sik, who needed a flower real quick. So he went into a cave and, being quite brave, snatched it without getting pricked.” I tucked the flower carefully in my jacket.