by Cate Rowan
He didn’t trust her — how could he? — but he was a mere man, not a sorcerer, not a god. Just an eldest brother.
Safety had never been guaranteed to orphaned street rats. Neither had long lives. And something had to change if he wanted more for himself and his brothers.
Feeling something prick his foot, he glanced down at his leather boots. A blade of green grass had poked right through a loose seam. His boots may have been cleaned and shined by the invisible magic in the bathroom, but they were still falling apart. Maybe magic was mostly an illusion — it could only go so far, and the rest had to be done in the real world, with work.
So they would do the work. And when this job was done, he would commission new boots for himself and his brothers. They’d find a good place to stay — somewhere far from the slums this time. Somewhere Jasper was less likely to find people to fight with, and Val was less likely to find women to get in trouble with.
Instantly he remembered the feel of Ina under him. A cold rivulet snaked down his spine even as his groin twitched.
Maybe, Darius thought, Val wasn’t the only one likely to get into trouble with women.
Ina stood as still as a queen as she waited for them. Tall she was, and mysterious, and smiling in a way that did not light the day.
“Ah, my three,” she said when they neared. “Come and collect the gift you will take to my friend, as well as my own presents to you.”
“Presents to us?” Val said, perking up.
“Indeed. You first, Valerian.”
Val stepped forward and bowed.
“You yearn for adventures,” Ina said. “To visit places unknown to you and to do things others have never done. To you I give this.” She brought her hands together and turned her palms up, and across them appeared a rolled-up rug with golden tassels.
“Is . . . Is this . . .” Val stammered uncharacteristically.
“The flying carpet? Indeed. It will take you where you want to go. Hold a corner tassel in each hand, somewhat like a horse’s reins, and steer.”
Darius forbore to mention that none of them had ever ridden a horse in their lives, nor steered one hitched to a chariot.
Val took the carpet reverently and unrolled it on the grass. Red and gold and white, its colors dazzled against the verdant green. Val looked like he’d been given a gift from the gods, his heart’s desire.
The carpet meant they wouldn’t need to take the journey on foot, and that the holey state of Darius’s boots might not matter after all. However, he was entirely unsure how he felt about going anywhere by flying like an osprey far above the earth.
What if they fell off the carpet? He imagined his brothers as they had been long ago, toddlers wanting to touch and taste everything. He’d been in charge of keeping them safe, even then. How could he do that while they flew among the clouds?
But he barely had time to think that through before Ina moved on. “You, Jasper.”
Jas took a steady step forward.
“You know not who you are yet, nor where you are going. This will help you with both.” Ina stretched out her hands again and held them together, palms cupped. In them appeared a mirror with a bronze frame. It shone brilliantly in the sun. “Whisper to it where you want to go and it will show you the path. On this journey, Valerian’s carpet can steer you there.”
In characteristic silence, Jasper reached forward and took the mirror in his hands. His brow had furrowed and his eyes bore a quiet awe.
Darius wondered just what Ina had meant about Jas not knowing who he was yet, and about the throne she had placed in his room. He guessed a deep conversation with his middle brother was long overdue.
“You, Darius.”
Darius felt his heart lurch sideways. Ina had read his brothers all too well. What did she intend to give, and what would it say about him? He took a small step toward her.
“As the eldest brother, yours has been a . . . practical life, one of choices you wish you hadn’t needed to make.” Ina twitched her lips as if curled around a jest, and he wondered how detailed was her knowledge about their lives as thieves. “You see the way out as riches,” she continued. “Wealth for security. But you, too, need to see the way.”
She held up her hands a third time, cupped as they had been for Jasper. And in her palms appeared the golden lamp she’d promised him. “This is more than you think. Touch this lamp, and it will glow for you, and send its light into the darkness. You may need it on this journey,” she said cryptically.
He raised a brow, but his gaze seemed glued to the lamp and his hands itched for it. He took it from her, and feeling the weight of the gold in his hands, was struck silent by awe. The lamp lit itself, and the flame held steady.
“Where are we to journey, Lady Ina,” he asked, finally raising his gaze to her, “that we need such tools as these?”
Her smile held worlds in it, and secrets. “You’ll know in a moment. First, the gifts you are to take.” She clasped her hands together, one below the other, and then spread them apart. In her bottom hand appeared a box the size of his two palms, covered in embroidered cloth of black and gold thread.
Darius frowned. The box seemed a minor thing to take across what was seemingly a long and involved journey requiring unusual transportation and magic light. But perhaps he should have been grateful it was so small.
Then Ina tipped open the box’s lid, revealing two perfume bottles studded with crystals. Facets of the jewels sparkled in the sun. Darius was aghast at how much the bottles alone must have cost.
He realized there was a very different weight to these gifts, and felt suddenly worried by the charge of carrying them.
A wild thought occurred to him — what if they simply stole them and sold the perfume bottles? That was all the wealth they could ever have wanted. But he already had a golden lamp, and Jas a bronze mirror, and Val the flying carpet of his adventurous dreams. Those gifts were already worth more than their lives.
“One bottle is for my friend’s consort,” she said, and pointed to the bottle of carnelian red. “And one for her.” She tapped the one of lapis blue. “Be sure to give them at the same time, so they will be equally pleased. The scents within are for them alone — and so, my three sometime-thieves, I’ve sealed the bottles for their hands only.” A glow coiled around each bottle, and then vanished.
She turned to Jasper. “I give these to you for safekeeping, and you shall be my messenger to them.”
Jasper looked both stunned and immensely proud. Val’s cheeks burned so red they seemed to have been rubbed in pomegranate juice.
Darius felt a spark of jealousy, himself. Was he not the eldest, the responsible one? Was Jasper so delightful in bed that she favored him most?
Darius gave himself a mental shake to stay focused.
“Now be seated on the carpet, my three, and I shall tell you where you are to journey.”
Her three, again. Problems came in threes . . .
They each settled upon the carpet, cross-legged, with their packs on their backs. Darius sat at the rear with his lamp, Jasper in the middle with the mirror after carefully stowing the embroidered box in his pack, and Valerian at the front edge, hands poised over the tassels. Darius’s stomach churned. The boy within him burned for the journey to begin, for them to fly. The adult within him was certain the hubris of riding a flying carpet would lead to no good.
Ina stood before them; the charmed sunlight winked off the gold in her ears and the burnished circlet holding back her dark hair. “Darius, lift your lamp.”
He did as she said, though the sunshine poured down upon them and they needed no more light.
“Valerian, take the reins.”
At the front of the carpet, Val reached down and gripped the tassels. The rug beneath them surged in a low wave, lifting them from the ground and into the air, hovering at the height of Ina’s knees. Darius wobbled for a moment until he found his balance.
“Jasper,” Ina said, and raised her arms as if invoking a spell, “tell the m
irror to show you the path to her. To Ereshkigal.”
Ereshkigal. The name sounded vaguely familiar, a whisper from childhood tales, a single thread from among the thousands that wove a life.
As Darius sought in vain to place the name, Jasper held his bronze-framed mirror aloft in one hand while the other sought a grip on the edge of the carpet. “Mirror, show us how to reach Ereshkigal.”
The mirror clouded, changing from a reflection of the white stone and green grass to something darker, something grey and ominously swirling above bleak mountain peaks. Like Jasper, Darius found himself clutching the edge of the carpet with one hand.
Jas looked up from the mirror and pointed over Val’s shoulder. “Over there.”
There, on the horizon, Darius spotted the grey spiral from Jasper’s mirror, seething darkly like an unnatural storm. “That’s where we’re going?”
Jas and Val seemed too preoccupied by their tasks to answer. Val plucked gingerly on a tassel, but the carpet merely bobbed as if it were riding an air ripple. “Hang on, I’ll figure this out.” Val tugged more firmly and the carpet rotated away from Ina as if turned by invisible hands. Darius’s stomach rolled queasily.
Then, all at once, the carpet and its passengers shot forth into the sky like gazelles being driven into a trap.
10
Val held the carpet’s tassels in his fists and felt the world could never get better than this. The wind streamed through his hair, the trees skimmed by underneath, and he felt like the king of all, as powerful as a god. Below them spread the countryside, brown and mute and full of drying mud from yesterday. But they flew above it, untouched by the mess, like nobles riding in a litter. It was the best he’d ever felt in his life.
“I don’t like this,” Jasper said from behind him.
“You don’t like this?” Darius said from the rear of the rug. “At least you’ve got the mirror to look at. I’m just hanging on back here.”
“Stop whining, both of you,” Val said. “This is glorious. The adventure of a lifetime!” Truly, the gods had blessed him the moment he’d spied Ina’s castle. Even more so when she’d spent time in his bed.
Though it was immensely aggravating that she’d spent time in his two brothers’ beds as well.
Being the youngest generally meant his older brothers had already done whatever he wanted to do. There weren’t many firsts for a baby brother. One was that Ina had come to him first.
He just wished she’d come to him only.
And there was one other thing that was a little bit, just a touch, disconcerting.
The fact that they seemed to be flying directly into a storm.
Darius seemed to be aware of it, too. “Holy Hell, is that really where we’re going?”
Jasper, as usual, kept his thoughts to himself. Which was interesting, considering he was the one holding the mirror directing their path.
“I suppose so,” Val said. “Might be a little wet in there.”
“Wet? Lightning? Wind? Sounds great,” Darius groused. “Just what I always wanted. If we were doing this on foot, at least we could take shelter from the storm.”
“Then your holey boots would be full of mud,” Jas growled, in unexpected support, “and it would take us much longer to get there. Hold your lamp higher so Val can see. It’s not about getting past the storm; I think we’re going into it. On purpose. For this Ereshkigal.”
Val, seated in front, envisioned his brother’s forehead wrinkling over the name.
Darius spoke up from behind. “I know that name, somehow. Or I did, once.”
“Is it a place?” Jasper said.
“No,” Darius said. “I think . . . ”
Darius went quiet for several moments, and then a wave came rolling through the rug, from behind, where Darius was sitting. “Ereshkigal! Oh no, no, no . . . Do you two remember Mother and Auntie talking about the old gods?”
“No, I was too little,” Val said. His words came out bitter, but he couldn’t help that. His brothers had been old enough to remember them better than he did.
“Val,” Darius said urgently. “This isn’t a gift-giving mission that Ina’s sent us on. You’ve got to put this carpet down. Steer us back to the ground.”
“What? Absolutely not. This is the best time I’ve ever had.” And it was true, even though his face was beginning to feel the tiny pelts of raindrops and gusts pushed at him. He gripped the tassels harder.
“Val, put us down!” Darius shouted.
“I won’t! What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“Hell!” Darius roared. “That’s exactly what, Val. You’re steering us into HELL!”
“Has he gone mad?” Val said over his shoulder to Jasper.
“Dar, it’s a storm,” Jasper grunted. “It’s not going to kill us. We’re on a damn flying carpet.”
“Ereshkigal is the Queen of Hell,” Darius said. “Queen of the Underworld. You don’t remember the stories, either?”
“Apparently not as well as you do,” Jas said, which made Val feel better.
“There was one tale called the Descent of Inanna, Jas.” And then Darius made another sound like a muffled oath. “The goddess Inanna descended into Hell to try to usurp her sister’s kingdom. Ereshkigal was her sister.”
“Inanna?” Val said, thinking that name was entirely too familiar.
“Ina!” Jasper and Darius said together, both in horror.
“Hold on there,” Val said, louder to counter the rising wind. “You think Ina is Inanna, and sending us to her sister’s kingdom? Why?”
“To try to conquer it. Again,” Jas said slowly.
“How?” Val said. “With our help? Three mortals? Dar, you’re crazy. That’s nuts.”
“We’re on a flying carpet, Val. Things are already nuts.”
Jasper spoke. “Dar, if you’re right, then the perfume bottles she’s sending as ‘gifts’ have something other than perfume in them. Something that could overpower a goddess.”
“Yes, exactly. We’re doing the dirty work for her,” Dar said.
A shiver went through Val. “I don’t like the sound of that. Look, I still don’t think this makes any sense. I know Ina pissed you two off when she slept with me first, but —”
“Stop the carpet, Val. Now.” Darius spoke in the deep voice of the Eldest Brother, the voice that promised painful bodily retribution if Val didn’t do as he said.
“Yeah, Val, put us down,” Jas said. “Down.”
It occurred to Val that it was two against one, and that the ground was a very, very long way beneath them. “Okay,” he said, and eased the tassels down in his hand.
There was no response. “Hunh,” he said, puzzled.
“DOWN, VALERIAN!” Darius roared.
“Full name treatment, is it? I heard you.” Val stared at the tassels and yanked harder on them. “And I’m trying. The carpet’s not listening to me. I can’t slow it down.”
“Try turning it left,” Jas said urgently. “Or right. Away from the storm, one way or another.” Then he peered over the edge of the rug. “What’s that below us?”
“A wall with a gate of some sort, I think,” Val answered, looking ahead. “We already passed three of them. And there’s another one coming.” They raced toward it, and over. “And —”
“And there are more ahead,” Darius said. “That would make five . . . six . . . seven. The Seven Gates of Hell.” His voice was grimmer than Val had ever heard it. “Val, if you have an ounce of sense in that idiot mind of yours behind that way-too-pretty face, you will figure out how to turn this damn carpet around.”
Val was tugging the tassels this way and that, doing his best, but it was as if the carpet was now in charge of itself, a steed that had taken the bit in its teeth as it headed toward home. “Nothing’s happening.” Even he could hear the makings of panic in his own voice, so he clenched his jaw.
The lamplight above them dimmed. Jas shoved into him from behind, letting out a big “Oof!” just as Darius’s
hand shot around them both and clamped onto Val’s fist.
“Hey, that fucking hurts!” But Darius’s grip only tightened around Val’s hand to yank harder on the tassel.
There was a sickening tearing sound, and suddenly the tassel was no longer attached to the carpet. “Holy shit,” Val said.
“More like Holy Hell,” Jasper said.
And then the carpet stalled.
11
Jasper, sandwiched between his two brothers on a flying carpet that had begun to spiral downward in a death plunge, was pretty sure he was going to die. In his darker moments he’d often told himself he wouldn’t much care if he snuffed it, but now he realized he really, truly, deeply did not wish to die after all.
He dropped the mirror into his lap and gripped the edges of the carpet with both hands. The earth was a dark maelstrom beneath them. “Dar, grab the tassels on the two back corners — maybe you can steer with those!”
Once again, Jasper was knocked forward as Darius tried to turn around on their bucking steed of thread. Then the carpet began to spin even faster. Jasper’s stomach felt like it had pushed up through his mouth. “Gods above!” he moaned.
“I’m trying,” Darius shouted. But the carpet was gyrating like a leaf caught in a dust devil.
Suddenly it plunged harder, then banked steeply in a curve that nearly had Jasper’s balls withdrawing into his body for safety. He opened his eyes and saw not the earth rushing toward them, but the clouds high above. And still the carpet continued to curve, until he felt his hair floating away from his head as if he were hanging upside-down from a tree . . . until once again the earth was their destination, and rapidly approaching.
“Hang on, I’ve almost got this,” Darius said.
“You’d better, or we’ll be flatter than blades of grass!” Val shouted from the front.
Another quarter-curve, and then the horizon nearly straightened out in front of them. Then another nosedive.
“What in blazes are you doing, back there?” Jasper rasped out while trying to keep his last meal from re-emerging.
