by Andre Norton
She’d tried to get Nidintulugal to return to the village, but he dogged her steps, determined that what she sought was a demon, and equally determined to slay it. He had even brought a knife with him, tucked in his belt.
“There’s no such thing as a demon,” she told him. But her words held more conviction than her thoughts. If there were dragons and magic and time travel, there could be demons. Couldn’t there? “Ulbanu is a dragon, not a demon.”
“The dragon of the Ishtar Gate?”
“Yes, but no.” Shilo had shaken her head, certain Nidintulugal could see her well in all the starlight. “Ulbanu looks like that, but the dragon’ll get mad if you call it that. It says it’s just a dragon, not an aspect of a god or—”
“It is a demon, Shilo, and I will slay it with the power of Shamash.”
“And that knife? Hah!” She groaned and didn’t speak to him again until after she’d found the cave. The stench of the dragon didn’t reach outside, something she’d noticed when she left to go to the village. Perhaps that was part of the dragon’s magic, and helped it to go undiscovered, stopping its stink at the cave mouth. Perhaps she would not have discovered the cave opening were it not for her own magic.
“This is going to smell bad,” she told Nidintulugal. “Worse than I smell for sweating so much and not taking a bath for days. The dragon smells horrible.”
“Demons reek,” he replied.
“And you know this? You’ve met a demon before?”
He shook his head. “I have studied about them, Shilo, at the feet of the elder priests of Shamash in the great city of Babylon.”
“And they’ve met demons before?”
Nidintulugal didn’t answer.
Shilo was just as struck by the dragon’s size and presence as she had been the first time. Again she was trembling and weak-kneed, though she got over it faster this time. The smell was just as odious, and the dragon still gave off enough light so they could see it and the enormous cave.
“Ulbanu, this is Nidintulugal. He is the priest of Shamash who helped me escape from Babylon. I didn’t want to bring him here.”
The dragon’s narrowed eyes told Shilo it hadn’t wanted Nidintulugal here either.
“But he is persistent,” she continued. “And he did save my life.” She paused.
“Nidintulugal, this is the dragon Ulbanu.” She turned to gesture to the priest so she could formally and properly introduce them, but Nidintulugal had passed out in one of the pools of the dragon’s saliva.
“He thought you were a demon,” Shilo said, turning back to face Ulbanu. She would deal with Nidintulugal later; he was breathing strongly and didn’t look hurt.
The dragon growled, the rumble racing through the cave floor and causing Shilo to lose her balance. She picked herself up and brushed at her robe and decided not to complain about it.
“There are demons in this world, Shilo. Creatures smaller, but far more powerful than I—powerful because they use their magic to foul ends, and do not worry of the consequences.”
Again the dragon’s words came in Shilo’s head.
Shilo shuddered, more because she feared the dragon was angry with her for bringing Nidintulugal than because she’d mentioned a demon.
“Child, you are here to fight such demons. To save dragonkind—”
“—and perhaps mankind,” Shilo finished. She suddenly felt chilled in this very warm cave.
* * *
“So you’re going to tell me now just what I’m supposed to do, right?” Shilo sat a few yards back from the dragon in a chamber deeper in the hills.
It was a larger chamber than the one she’d met Ulbanu in, and so for the first time she could see all of the dragon. She put it at two hundred feet or more from nose to tail tip, and it curled around a natural stone wall, looking peculiarly catlike. The floor was wet, either from the dragon’s saliva or its condensed breath or both, and she took care not to slip.
“Do you ever leave this cave?” Shilo had meant to press the dragon on the matter of teaching her about magic and pursuing demons, but the question came out. “You’re … huge. How could you leave this place and someone not see you?”
“Some nights I leave. To hunt and fly.”
Shilo noticed the dragon lacked wings. But she supposed its magic let it fly.
“Though rarely do I leave, else I would risk discovery and bring about my doom faster than the years bring it upon me. My magic cloaks me, and it well hides the entrance to my cave. But there are those who can see through the enchantment.”
“Like me? I found my way here.”
Ulbanu tapped a claw against the cave floor in what seemed an impatient gesture.
“Back to the demons, huh? And saving dragonkind and perhaps mankind.” She settled herself on the cave floor, not minding if this robe got damp. She had the two she’d traded for in the village, and she intended to put one of those on after she discovered a way to take a bath. Shilo looked at the dragon—there had to be water deeper in the cave; a creature of such size would need a water source. There was at least another chamber beyond this; she could see a wide, black slash in the rocks that was the opening. Maybe there was some water there, and she could wash herself.
“Bad enough that you were gone so long to the village, Shilo. Can you not grasp the importance and urgency in this?”
Shilo quickly told the dragon about seeing the guards and waiting until they left before going into the village.
“The rich man,” the dragon began, “he wants you badly, Shilo. Perhaps he has discerned that you threaten him. He will send more than guards soon.”
Shilo sucked in a breath. “I’ve threatened no one!”
“But you will, child, him in particular, if you are to—”
“—save dragonkind—”
“—and perhaps mankind.”
Shilo let out a great sigh. “Please tell me what this is all about.”
The dragon’s expression changed, and were the face human, Shilo would have called it sad. The huge eyes darkened, and the light that emanated from its hide dimmed.
“I said I leave my cave, though rarely.” The dragon shifted so that its head was directly across from Shilo. It set its jaw against the cave floor, sending ripples in a pool of saliva.
“I sensed a herd of wild camels to the north, and so I flew to hunt. I require little food, Shilo, magic largely sustains me. But from time to time a hunger comes, and so I went after the camels.”
Shilo patiently listened, curious how camels were going to tie into Babylon and demons and her needing to save dragons and men.
“I feasted, leaving not a drop of blood or a piece of fur behind to mark my passage. I gorged myself on their sweet meat. They were easy prey, locked to the ground in their terror of me.”
Shilo wrinkled her nose, picturing Ulbanu swooping down on the camels and swallowing them right and left.
“Drunk in my fullness, I took to the sky and soared, staying too long away from my lair.”
Shilo rested back on her hands. This had nothing to do with demons and the rich man in Babylon, and were Ulbanu not a frighteningly huge dragon, she would have voiced her boredom at the tale.
“When I returned to this cave, my eggs were gone.”
Shilo’s eyes snapped wide. “Eggs?” Ulbanu was a she.
“Four perfect eggs, Shilo.” The dragon’s visage registered more than sadness, Shilo realized; it was etched with despair and utter loss. “There are few dragons in the world in this time, and none in yours unless you aid me. Men have hunted us to near-extinction, and perhaps rightly so. Many of my brethren were filled with darkness and preyed upon men and other creatures. They brought about their own demise, as the men banded together and changed the tide of the hunt. But my eggs, they hold a promise of a future.”
Ulbanu paused and closed her eyes, opening them and seeing past Shilo to another time.
“Not all of my brethren were cruel and so voracious, yet most of the men could not distinguish us, and so
pursued us all. We few who are left live in remote places. I thought only a scattering of men knew I laired here. I thought myself safe. And I thought my offspring would flourish.”
“The sage,” Shilo whispered. “The one who had the puzzle. He knew you lived here.”
“Yes, the sage was one. But there must have been others I was unaware of. When I feasted on the camels—a trap that was well planned for me—I left my eggs vulnerable. And I paid the highest price for my foolishness.”
“Why would anyone want your eggs?” The moment after Shilo asked the question, she realized the answer. To tame a dragon—dragons—to have them under your control, would make you powerful. Like a man in modern times having possession of a nuclear bomb. “So you need me to find your eggs, right?”
“Not find them. I know where they are, Shilo.”
Shilo sputtered and shook her head in disbelief. “Then why do you need me? Why is my magic required? Never mind that I don’t understand what my magic is and what I can do with it. If you know where your eggs are, why not just swoop right in and take them? Swallow the men who stole them and…”
The dragon’s growl was low and sent a soft tremor through the floor. “The common citizens of Babylon, even the great King Nebuchadnezzar, do not know I exist. My image is on their gate, but so too are the images of lions and bulls and suns. I cannot risk showing myself. In doing so I would risk my life, my eggs, and the lives of other dragons who lair elsewhere.”
“Because everyone would know for certain that dragons exist.” Shilo scratched her head. “But won’t they know dragons exist anyway if your eggs hatch and someone controls your offspring?”
“Not if you are successful, Child of Sigurd.”
This time Shilo did not tell the dragon that she hated that title.
“So I’m supposed to use my magic to rescue your eggs.” She stuck out her lower lip and exhaled, her breath cool against her sweat-dotted face. Shilo pushed back her hood, wriggled out of the robe, and sat on it. The heat was only a little more bearable in her shorts and tank top. “I don’t even know how to use my magic, beyond finding your cave and finding my way to ancient Babylon.”
“I will teach you a little, Child of Sigurd, just enough, as our time is short. You must discover the extent of your magic on your own. My eggs will hatch before ten days pass. You must be successful.”
“I realize that.” Shilo was angry with herself for tarrying in the village—she should have left as soon as she’d made her trade for the clothes, shouldn’t have gone there to begin with. But without the clothes, she’d be easily recognized in Babylon, and perhaps easily caught. “I have to find your eggs and bring them back here.” She pursed her lips. “I understand how important this is to you and to dragonkind. But how is this going to save mankind?” There, she’d asked it—what’s in it for her?
“The men who have my eggs will use them for ill, Shilo. Look.” Ulbana scratched her talon across the stone floor, making a deep groove that shimmered in the pale light cast by the dragon.
The shimmering spread to the rest of the stone, and within heartbeats the floor resembled a frozen-over lake. Shilo had not personally seen one, but her father had pictures of Wisconsin lakes in the winter in an old album. She wished it felt cold like ice, but it felt no different than the stone that had been there moments before. The surface sparkled and became as clear as glass, and then an image formed in the space between her and the dragon.
“That’s Babylon?” Shilo gasped.
Shilo recognized part of it, from her tour with Nidintulugal. The view the dragon presented in the magical vision was top-down, like she was a bird hovering over the city and trying to take it all in.
The Hanging Gardens seemed larger and more amazing than when she’d walked by them. She stared—they were larger. There were more tiers, stretching up and up like a skyscraper, and the shades of green were amazing. She saw trees from distant parts of the world—birch trees that she knew weren’t found anywhere near Mesopotamia or Iraq, massive weeping willows laced with kudzu, cypress trees found in swampy lands, pinyon pines, and more.
“How did they?” She let the question hang as she continued to ogle the city. Three waterfalls graced the gardens, in addition to the water conveyor that siphoned from the Euphrates to keep this place verdant. Colorful parrots flitted here and there, macaws from South America, toucans, and African grays. Spider monkeys scampered in the branches, and she had a hard time pulling her eyes away from it. “It’s like Busch Gardens in Florida, but better.”
She looked to the Processional Way, which was longer and wider, the walls and buildings rising on either side of it more spectacular than before. More images of dragons, lions, and bulls were displayed, some carved, some molded and glazed. The Ishtar Gate was still there, but there were three more gates beyond it, each taller and more impressive than the one before.
“When is this?” Shilo continued to study the gates, and the palace that was easily three times the size as before. The temples were still there, and she located the Temple of Shamash by the river. It was no longer in the southern part of the city—Babylon had expanded that much. Now the temple sat roughly in the middle.
“Not quite one hundred years from now,” Ulbanu answered.
“A long time,” Shilo said. But not so long considering how much the city had grown. She couldn’t spot the poor quarters she’d traipsed through. All the buildings were shiny and fine, and all had doors and wide windows, many of glass. The roofs were glazed tiles, some with decorations on them. It was all so incredibly beautiful. How could this be a bad thing? she wondered. How could this upset the dragon?
The image shifted to the south, so all she could see was the outer wall now, ten feet thick and patrolled by guards with bows and spears. The land beyond looked blasted, as if bombs had been dropped on it.
Scrub grass grew here and there, near the banks of the Euphrates. Once more she remembered her father reading the Bible, and that the “great river Euphrates” had been mentioned in connection with apocryphal events. One such event had certainly happened in those hundred years.
“Show me more, Ulbanu.”
The image shifted farther south, and Shilo saw the remains of village after village, all looking like they’d been bombed. Everything was in ruins. Farther south she saw small clusters of people, living in tents and keeping camels and sheep, but the people and animals looked emaciated and hopeless. The image turned to the north now, finding the land parched where once irrigated fields had thrived. The village Shilo had traded with was gone, only scattered bricks and chunks of tile hinted that something had been there. The hills beyond, where Ulbanu laired, had been flattened, as if some great earthquake had leveled everything.
“Was there an earthquake, Ulbanu?” Shilo hoped something natural and beyond anyone’s ability to prevent had been responsible. “Or was it your offspring?”
“Neither,” Ulbanu rasped. The word was audible this time and sent a tremor through the floor.
Farther north and to the east was another city, where Shilo guessed Baghdad would sit in modern-day Iraq. It looked like a miniature version of Babylon, and there were similar images of lions, bulls, and the Ishtar dragon on walls and towers. Again the land around the city looked bleak and blasted, and farther out were the ruins of more villages. The only crops she’d seen were within the walled cities.
“Beautiful and horrible at the same time,” Shilo said. “How did this happen?”
The dragon tapped a claw and the image quavered, like a camera going out of focus and coming back in. This time it was night, or perhaps Shilo looked into some dark cavern or cellar. Tiny red flames flickered, but they didn’t produce enough light to reveal anything of the surroundings. The flames were set in pairs, and as Shilo stared, she saw twisted faces, some with scales and bulging lips, some with no lips, all of it too shadowy to make out many details.
“They’re not lights,” she said after a moment. “They’re eyes.” The red flames f
lickering were eyes blinking. “Demons.”
“Yes, those are demons.” The voice came from behind Shilo. Standing a few feet back, sweat-soaked and trembling, was Nidintulugal.
16
Babylon Badly Reborn
The red eyes and shadowy shapes became a swirling mass of dark fire that spread like a surging wave across the land, moving so frenetically that Shilo and Nidintulugal could not see the actual forms of the demons. They could tell that the malicious creatures devoured everything in their path—buildings, pens, animals, trees, and people.
Shilo stared as the swarm circled a well in a prosperous village, the stones of it withered to dust and the water boiled up and turned to steam that scalded birds that had been flying overhead.
The swarm of demons seemed to be selective, passing by some villages and nomadic bands and leveling others into ruins. There was not enough left of the victims to bury.
“There are always a few survivors so they can relate the horrible tale,” Ulbanu supplied.
The dragon continued to speak aloud, the power of her voice sending stone dust down from the ceiling.
“Others need to be told of the terror so others could be afraid. Fear makes it easier to conquer people.”
The swath of red came to a sizable city, which Nidintulugal said was southeast of Babylon. “It is a place King Nebuchadnezzar hopes to take under his influence. For years they have resisted the king’s attempts.”
Red flowed up the city walls, which melted beneath the highly corrosive demons. Sound came with the image, a chittering, hissing, cackling cacophony that caused both the people in the city under siege and Nidintulugal and Shilo in the cave to cover their ears. Man upon man fell to the swarm, and no woman or child was spared. Then the demon hoard melted into the ground, turning the earth blood-red and sending the city into ruins. The chittering subsided, replaced by the moans of the dying.
Clouds raced across the sky, and the sun rose and set in rapid succession indicating the passage of time. A city grew up in place of the devastated one, this looking like another miniature Babylon. It was swiftly populated with hundreds who migrated there.
