We’re through the arch, and another, and the rest, tripping forward as fast as we can over the mosaic floor.
Bree is waiting for us at the end of the hall. The temple entrance is visible from here, and so is Anzu, pacing in front of it. But he stays outside.
“You are not going to believe this,” Bree says, pointing up an adjoining passage. Beyond it is another broad archway.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, fighting to catch my breath. “At this point I’d believe anything, except that I’m getting out of here past that thing.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Now that we’re not evading a monster, I take in the place. The walls have changed from the glimmering gold of the sand outside to a blue deep as a night sky or the bottom of the ocean. The floor’s mosaic patterns are wavy lines that must indicate water and curving ones that might be Enki’s horns. Yes, horns.
“The only way out is in, then,” Tam says.
Bree whirls on him, green eyes wide and afraid. “How are you keeping your shit together like this?”
“One of us has to.” Tam is trying to be funny.
But I punch his arm. “Excuse me. We all are.” I put my backpack on so I don’t have to carry it. “Bree, what’s unbelievable?”
“The blessings. This way.” She waves at the passage, frowning, and we start up it.
Tam ignores Bree, somehow not getting that she’s worried. He says to me , “He couldn’t hear you. That’s all. He would have come.”
Sure, Dad not showing up to rescue me stings. But that doesn’t mean I’m surprised by it. I exaggerate my shrug. “Sure. He would’ve.”
Bree stops at the arch, and when we join her, it turns out she might be right. I do have trouble believing the scene in front of us.
Several of the revelers writhe, moaning, on the tiled floor of a large rounded chamber with those same seamless blue walls. The woman with the flowing dress tips her head back and opens her mouth. A bright-red fishtail slowly lowers until it touches the woman’s extended tongue. She pulls back with a blissed-out smile and spins around in joy. The revelers aren’t what defies belief, though, it’s the things doing the “blessing.”
Long tanks form a border around the edges of the room. The glass is smudged with grime, not the spotless clean of the temple. The water within is so deep and dark that it appears black, as if they’re swimming in ink.
Oh, yeah. The they .
They’re not quite as big as Anzu, but still larger than any man-fish thing should be. They’re not mermen or anything ridiculous like that. They’re nothing you’d put in a child’s storybook, unless you wanted to mess that kid up for life.
They are the size of small whales, the oversized tanks hardly big enough for them to do more than turn around in, and there’s enough of them that the water ebbs in endless swells. Their heads end in disconcerting fish lips that contain giant jaws with rows of razor teeth. (The teeth make me think of Legba. I don’t want to think of Legba.) Their bodies are a mix of scaled hues, the tails sharp-finned as they swipe from the tank to touch the tongues of the revelers.
The head reveler lady says to us, “Don’t be shy! Get yours! You’ll see…”
What I see is her being pulled down to the floor by one of her companions, a guy whose intentions are not anything I want to witness.
“Where would my dad be? Tam, any ideas?” I ask.
He shakes his head no. “You’ll have to ask them. The seven sages. Minor gods Enki made. They’re his attendants.”
I count the weird fish-men. There are seven. “These are sages?”
Bree says, “I’m not letting them touch me.”
“Smart.” But Tam’s right about no way through. There’s a shadowed opening, door-sized, that goes further into the temple, but it’s on the other side of the tanks. There’s no going anywhere but back the way we came – blocked by lion-eagle – without help from these sages. Dad had better be here.
I choose the nearest tank, averting my
Bree is waiting for us at the end of the hall. The temple entrance is visible from here, and so is Anzu, pacing in front of it. But he stays outside.
“You are not going to believe this,” Bree says, pointing up an adjoining passage. Beyond it is another broad archway.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, fighting to catch my breath. “At this point I’d believe anything, except that I’m getting out of here past that thing.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Now that we’re not evading a monster, I take in the place. The walls have changed from the glimmering gold of the sand outside to a blue deep as a night sky or the bottom of the ocean. The floor’s mosaic patterns are wavy lines that must indicate water and curving ones that might be Enki’s horns. Yes, horns.
“The only way out is in, then,” Tam says.
Bree whirls on him, green eyes wide and afraid. “How are you keeping your shit together like this?”
“One of us has to.” Tam is trying to be funny.
But I punch his arm. “Excuse me. We all are.” I put my backpack on so I don’t have to carry it. “Bree, what’s unbelievable?”
“The blessings. This way.” She waves at the passage, frowning, and we start up it.
Tam ignores Bree, somehow not getting that she’s worried. He says to me , “He couldn’t hear you. That’s all. He would have come.”
Sure, Dad not showing up to rescue me stings. But that doesn’t mean I’m surprised by it. I exaggerate my shrug. “Sure. He would’ve.”
Bree stops at the arch, and when we join her, it turns out she might be right. I do have trouble believing the scene in front of us.
Several of the revelers writhe, moaning, on the tiled floor of a large rounded chamber with those same seamless blue walls. The woman with the flowing dress tips her head back and opens her mouth. A bright-red fishtail slowly lowers until it touches the woman’s extended tongue. She pulls back with a blissed-out smile and spins around in joy. The revelers aren’t what defies belief, though, it’s the things doing the “blessing.”
Long tanks form a border around the edges of the room. The glass is smudged with grime, not the spotless clean of the temple. The water within is so deep and dark that it appears black, as if they’re swimming in ink.
Oh, yeah. The they .
They’re not quite as big as Anzu, but still larger than any man-fish thing should be. They’re not mermen or anything ridiculous like that. They’re nothing you’d put in a child’s storybook, unless you wanted to mess that kid up for life.
They are the size of small whales, the oversized tanks hardly big enough for them to do more than turn around in, and there’s enough of them that the water ebbs in endless swells. Their heads end in disconcerting fish lips that contain giant jaws with rows of razor teeth. (The teeth make me think of Legba. I don’t want to think of Legba.) Their bodies are a mix of scaled hues, the tails sharp-finned as they swipe from the tank to touch the tongues of the revelers.
The head reveler lady says to us, “Don’t be shy! Get yours! You’ll see…”
What I see is her being pulled down to the floor by one of her companions, a guy whose intentions are not anything I want to witness.
“Where would my dad be? Tam, any ideas?” I ask.
He shakes his head no. “You’ll have to ask them. The seven sages. Minor gods Enki made. They’re his attendants.”
I count the weird fish-men. There are seven. “These are sages?”
Bree says, “I’m not letting them touch me.”
“Smart.” But Tam’s right about no way through. There’s a shadowed opening, door-sized, that goes further into the temple, but it’s on the other side of the tanks. There’s no going anywhere but back the way we came – blocked by lion-eagle – without help from these sages. Dad had better be here.
I choose the nearest tank, averting my
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