by C. J. Busby
Dora looked at him in puzzlement. “Your mouth feels funny?” she started to say, and then stopped and frowned. “That’s really …” She stopped again, and then put her hands up to her mouth and felt her lips. Jem was right. When she talked, it was as if her mouth was making odd shapes – her tongue moving differently, the breath being forced out of her lips in a way that didn’t feel quite right. As they stared at each other in consternation, the girl noticed that they had stopped and slipped back to pull at their clothes.
“Come on!” she said. “It’s not safe here! The Ensi use these passages. We need to get to my chambers.”
“Ensi?” said Jem.
“The Sargon’s officials. They run the place – and they don’t like having strangers arrive out of nowhere!”
After a few more twists and turns, and a number of narrow stairways, the girl reached what appeared to be a dead end. She pushed hard on a single blue jewel set into the end wall of the passage and another door slid across. Beyond it was a beautifully furnished, light, airy room, with silk hangings on the wall, dark carved wooden chairs with embroidered cushion seats, and a huge arched window open to the blue sky.
“My room,” said the girl, and gestured at the window. “Take a look. But be careful – watch out for the spycopters.”
“Spycopters?” said Jem, as he headed for the window. “What are they?”
The girl frowned. “Don’t you know anything?” she said. “The Ensi’s spying machines – they fly around the city, watching everything, and recording it. If you see one, duck back inside.”
Dora moved hesitantly to the window. She didn’t like the sound of the spycopters, but she was curious to see the city they’d arrived in. As she cautiously leant out, she couldn’t help gaping. They were at the top of a high tower, and stretching out below them was a vast city. There were thousands of buildings of red sandstone and white marble all jumbled together, with dazzling spires and towers right across the city, all reaching up into the deep blue sky. In amongst the buildings she could see the tops of trees, their dark green leaves shading the streets below, and hear the faint bustle of crowds, the calls of stallholders, bells ringing, and the faraway sound of music. In some ways it reminded her of the bustle and grand jumble of buildings in the kingdom’s capital city. But the shapes of the houses were different, and she could see tiny closed carts down on the street that appeared to be moving without any horses pulling them. The smell was different, too – a rich, unfamiliar smell, a little like lemons, with a hint of cloves and vanilla. It was quite unlike the predominant smell of pigs she associated with the kingdom.
She glanced sideways at Jem, who was drinking in the sights of the new world with an eager expression, and he grinned at her. Whatever her own doubts and worries about what they had done, Jem was in his element.
She turned back to the girl with the braids and bobbed a curtsey.
“My name is Dora,” she said, trying to ignore the slightly odd feeling in her mouth as she spoke. “This is Jem. We’re not exactly sure where we are – we’re looking for a friend.”
The girl stood very straight and poised, her dark brown eyes regarding them solemnly. “You are in the most high Temple of Ishtar, in the city of Ur-Akkad, first city of the glorious Akkadian Empire. I am Princess Inanna, priestess-daughter of the Ninety-ninth Sargon, ruler of Akkad and High Lord of the Universe.” She nodded at them, and then grinned. “And you are clearly from another world. My summoning spell brought you – I felt it working! You’re a little younger than I was hoping for – but no matter. You will take me away from this world, before they find I’m a magic-user and imprison me!”
Chapter Eight
Something was not right.
The Druid felt as if his head was inside a dragon’s mouth. Its hot breath was making him feel distinctly uncomfortable and its rasping tongue was pulling at his skin painfully. In addition, it kept shifting its weight and at least part of it appeared to be sitting on him. He tried to lift his arms, but they seemed to have disappeared. Instead, two white fish were weaving around in front of his eyes and every now and again one of them came close and slapped him on the cheek with its tail. It was all rather peculiar.
The Druid tried to close his eyes and then realised that they were closed. So he tried to open them. It felt as if someone had pressed a handful of wet clay over his eyelids and now it had dried solid.
The dragon appeared to have finally given up licking him, but now he could hear the faint sound of voices echoing around his head.
“He’s awake – moving.”
“Slap him again.”
The Druid felt a sharp slap on his face. He drew in his breath and made a huge effort to open his eyes.
He was lying on the floor of a cave with a roaring fire close by, and Rahul and Ishmel were peering down at him anxiously.
“Aha!” said Rahul, and clapped his hands. “You are awake!”
“You drugged me!” said the Druid, outraged.
“A thousand apologies, my friend!” said Rahul, making a comically mournful face. “But to transport you here it was necessary that you were unconscious. No one may see the route to the Thieves’ Cave … Even a very old friend and ally of the Thieves, such as yourself!”
The Druid started to lift himself off the floor, patting his face tentatively.
“Worlds above! What did you give me? It feels as if I’ve been pummelled by a troll. Couldn’t you just have told me not to look?”
Rahul shrugged apologetically. “I couldn’t even tell you I was giving you the potion, my friend. You could have cast a spell so it didn’t work. The lord commander is very strict about the rules.”
“Here,” said Ishmel, passing the Druid a glass filled with a hot, dark liquid. “This will make you feel better.”
The Druid looked at it dubiously.
Ishmel grinned. “Really – it will help.”
The Druid downed the glass in one and then nodded. “Excellent! Spiced Sumerian wine. Almost enough to make up for your utter treachery. Now, tell me – who is the current lord commander, and can I see him? It’s most urgent.”
Across the city, in the Temple of Ishtar, Dora and Jem were tucking into a feast. Princess Inanna’s chambers were equipped with everything she would need for a full week’s holy retreat – something the priestesses of Ishtar were expected to do whenever they got the call from the goddess. As Dora remarked, this meant she had just about enough food to keep Jem going for a day.
“At least we’re safe here – and we have a bit of time to make plans,” said Jem, his mouth full of a rather delicious savoury pastry Inanna had offered them.
As he swallowed, Inanna handed him a soft yellow fruit and a flat piece of some kind of bread. She seemed fascinated by just how much food Jem was capable of putting away and had been pressing new delicacies on him constantly since they’d started eating.
“Jem – you’ll explode if you eat any more,” said Dora, rolling her eyes, and he gave her a sheepish grin and waved the fruit and bread aside. Inanna put it back down on the tray between them, looking faintly disappointed.
“So, what exactly are we planning?” asked Dora.
“You are here to help me,” said Inanna firmly. “That’s what I summoned you for!”
“First of all, you didn’t summon us – we came ourselves,” said Dora, equally firmly. “And secondly, we have to find the Druid, and … something else we came for. Don’t we, Jem?” She nudged Jem with her foot.
“Yes, we do,” he said obediently, and then stopped. He put his hand up to his mouth and repeated, “Yes … we … do …”
He turned to her with a grin.
“Dora!” he said in excitement. “I’ve worked it out! Our mouths feel funny because we’re talking in a different language! It must be something to do with the portal magic. It makes you speak the language of wherever you end up!”
Inanna frowned. “You are speaking the language of Ur-Akkad, of course. Surely you knew that?”
Dora thought about it.
“Jem,” she said, experimentally. It sounded the same as usual – but then it would, she realised, because it was his name. “Jem is a fat pig with no manners,” she said, and then laughed. He was right! If she concentrated on what was coming out of her mouth, the words were completely strange. But their meaning seemed as clear to her as the words of the kingdom.
“How did we never notice this in Simon and Cat’s world?” she said.
Jem shrugged. “Maybe we were too busy running after Sir Bedwyr, or fighting Smith and Jones. Or maybe their language is closer to ours, so it didn’t feel so odd.”
Inanna clapped her hands imperiously.
“Enough! We must proceed. We must work out how I can get away from here! Jem …” She took his hand and squeezed it hard. “You will help me, won’t you? In a fortnight’s time I’ll be fourteen and I’ll have to leave the Temple. I’ll have to go to the household of Ra-Kaleel, the Chief Ensi. The second princess always runs the Chief Ensi’s household. But I can’t do it! It’s too dangerous! He’ll realise I’m a magic-user!” Her voice had more than a hint of a sob in it, and her eyes were liquid and pleading as they gazed intently into Jem’s.
Dora snorted. She could see Jem blushing and she knew that Inanna had chosen exactly the right strategy to get what she wanted. Jem’s dearest ambition had always been to be a knight and rescue beautiful damsels.
“O-of course,” stammered Jem, squeezing Inanna’s hand in return. “We’ll … we’ll do our best. But why does it matter if he finds out you can use magic?”
“Magic is not allowed in the Akkadian Empire,” said Inanna. “At least, not free magic.” For the first time real fear seemed to enter her eyes.
“What do you mean?” said Dora.
“Magic-users are imprisoned,” said Inanna, with a wobble in her voice. “Their magic is extracted by a machine the Ensi have built – it’s used to power the city. The magic is piped into houses for the lights and fans, and it’s used to power the spycopters, to keep the horseless chariots running, and for weapons. The magic-users, they … they never see daylight again.”
“But that’s terrible!” said Dora, shocked. “Anyone? Any magic-user? How do they find them?”
Inanna shuddered. “The Ensi have ways – there are spies, informers. No one dares to even talk about it. My mother, when she realised I had magic … she gave me secret books, she taught me some spells, but she also taught me to never, ever let my magic show, never use it except in emergencies. But she died, and I was sent to the Temple. And now I’m nearly fourteen and I have to go to Ra-Kaleel’s household. I can’t go there – I can’t! So I made a summoning spell to bring someone from another world, so they could take me back with them. Anywhere – so long as it’s away from here.”
Her last words were half whispered. Jem gave her an awkward pat on the back. “Don’t worry. Of course we’ll take you back with us,” he said reassuringly. “Won’t we, Dora?”
Dora bit her lip and nodded. “But we need to find the Druid – and we need to do it soon, before this Ra-Kaleel finds out we’re here and hooks us up to his horrible machine.” She shivered, thinking about the many people that must be imprisoned in the city, helpless, their magic siphoned off into secret channels to power the strange lighting and the spycopters.
“If we want to find the Druid,” said Jem thoughtfully, with a glance at Inanna, “then we probably need to start by looking for the amber.”
“Jem!” said Dora, horrified. “You shouldn’t –”
“We’re going to have to trust her,” said Jem. “We’ll find the Druid and the amber much quicker with Inanna’s help. And the sooner we find the amber, the sooner she gets to escape.”
“Find the amber?” said Inanna, with a frown.
“Have you heard anything about it?” said Jem eagerly. “A powerful jewel – a piece of deep amber. There’s a piece in this world somewhere. It’s what we came to get.”
Inanna hesitated. “There is a jewel – I’ve heard it spoken of. There’s an old saying that the dragon’s amber is the heart of the empire. But I thought it was just a legend …”
“That could be it,” said Jem. “But do any of the stories say where it might be?”
Inanna hesitated. “There’s a book my mother gave me. It’s very old. It has a poem about the dragon’s amber – but I don’t think it makes much sense …”
She reached under her bed and pulled out a plain wooden chest. Unlocking it with a small key she kept round her neck, she drew out an old book with torn and stained pages. Jem and Dora moved forward eagerly and craned over her shoulders as she flicked through the book until she reached a poem near the centre. It was written in deep black ink, and decorated around the edges with richly coloured and fantastical drawings of dragons.
Only obsidian
Cuts through the skin
Of the dragon’s fire amber,
Hidden within.
Down through the Lapis Gate,
Down in the deep
Dragon’s dark labyrinth,
There let them weep.
There was a moment’s silence.
“What in the forest’s name is that supposed to mean?” said Jem, exasperated.
“Do you have any idea?” Dora asked Inanna.
She frowned, thinking. “The Lapis Gate is the east gate of the city – it’s decorated with lapis lazuli. It’s quite close to the temple. I suppose it’s possible there’s an entrance there to some kind of labyrinth … It’s part of the Old City, and there are any number of secret tunnels and passageways between the buildings.”
“Where there are dragons?” said Jem, starting to look excited.
“I’ve never heard that there are dragons under the city,” said Inanna doubtfully. “But we do have dragons out in the desert. In the old days they were sometimes used to guard very precious treasures.”
“And obsidian does cut dragon’s skin,” said Dora. “It’s the only thing that does. But what does it mean, There let them weep?”
They looked at each other, wondering about what might be waiting for them, even if they could find their way to this labyrinth. Dora hoped fervently that the mention of dragons was just a myth to scare away anyone who might try to steal the amber.
Inanna stood up. “Come on,” she said. “If we’re going to find this labyrinth then we’d better have obsidian knives. And I know just where to find them!”
Jem and Dora had never seen so much gold in their lives as there was in the treasury of the Temple of Ishtar. Inanna had brought them there by another of the twisting dark passages that riddled the temple, and now she was searching quickly and quietly through the wooden chests in the corner.
“How do you know your way through all these passages?” Jem asked, as they followed her into the dimly lit chamber.
“I have lived in the temple since I was eight,” Inanna replied, feeling for the right knob to open the chest in front of her. “I was shown one passage – as a quick route between my chamber and the shrine – but I was commanded not to enter any of the other passages. So I made sure I explored them every time I had a spare afternoon. I’ve never really liked doing what I’m told.” She grinned at them both, her teeth like faint pearls shining in the dark shadows.
She’s just like Jem, thought Dora. He never does what he’s told either.
A few moments later, Inanna had found what she was looking for, and she headed back to them in triumph with three extremely wicked-looking dark obsidian blades. Handing two of them to Jem and Dora, she tucked one carefully into the belt of her dress.
“Now – I’ll take you to the robing room,” whispered Inanna. “To get you dressed in something a little less foreign.”
This was a sound idea, but it fell foul of Jem’s fascination with armour. The minut
e he spotted the silvery breastplate and helmet hanging in the corner of the robing room, he was determined to wear it.
“But it’s the uniform of an imperial guard!” said Inanna.
“So?” said Jem. “Even better – no one will question us!”
“If we meet any officers they might ask your name, or rank, or send you to some other guard post. It’s not exactly inconspicuous!” said Dora, exasperated.
Jem turned to Inanna. “Who’s the most important person in the palace?” he said.
“The Sargon, of course,” said Inanna instantly. “But when he’s away, it’s Ra-Kaleel.”
“Then I’ll just say I’m on a secret mission for the Great Ensi, Ra-Kaleel, and no one is to hinder me if they value their life,” said Jem loftily.
Inanna put her head on one side and contemplated him with a frown.
“It might work,” she said. “Try strutting a little – as if you’re really important.”
Jem added a little swagger to his gait and saluted them both, and Inanna clapped her hands.
“Perfect!” she said. “And the uniform does suit you!”
Dora snorted, and picked the darkest, plainest robe she could from the hooks on the wall.
“Come on, then,” she said. “We need to head for the Lapis Gate. If we use the secret passages and stay out of sight as much as possible, we may not get stopped.”
But as they left, Dora was aware of something niggling at the back of her mind. Something to do with Inanna’s summoning spell. The spell hadn’t been responsible for bringing her and Jem to this world because they’d been coming already. But Inanna had said she’d felt it work. So it must have summoned someone. The question was, who?
Chapter Nine
Mr Smith and Mr Jones were stalking through the dark streets of Novoridad when they felt the tug of a powerful summoning spell.
“Ow!” said Mr Smith, the shinier and smoother of the two tall, thin men in black suits.
Mr Jones, the older and dustier of the two, stopped, and sniffed the air.
