star-filled sky above the darkened streets.
That’s when Guntram heard it—a loud, piercing roar and the flap of huge, feathered wings.
They darted toward a stoop, melting into the shadows as they watched one of the winged creatures with the head of a lion and a powerful eagle-like body swoop down, pluck a woman from a doorway, and disappear into the sky again.
Guntram shuddered at the screams that faded into the night.
Simon darted out again, Guntram on his heels, and they ran, turning a sharp corner and coming to a doorway. Simon rapped on the wooden door with three quick and one single heavy knocks in succession.
Footsteps scuffled on the other side, the door cracked, and a single eye peered outside. Then the door flew open, and Simon slid inside.
Guntram glanced once more around the alleyway and slipped in behind him, closing the door. The smell of offal from the street didn’t penetrate the room. Something he noted gratefully.
Simon and an old man embraced, and then held each other at arm’s length. The old man’s eyes teared up. “Good to see you, old friend.”
Simon’s smile was tight but genuine. “Ninshubur, we need a place to rest until tomorrow night.”
“You must stay with me. I can’t believe you’re here,” the old man said, his voice breaking. “I thought the knock was a trick my mind was playing.”
“It’s been a long, long time.”
“Longer for you, no doubt,” the old man said, grinning. Finally, he peered beyond Simon’s shoulder. “Come deeper inside. You must eat. Then I’ll let you rest. I can only offer pallets. My circumstances have fallen since last we met.”
Simon nodded. “Inanna has much to answer for.”
“I should never have aligned my fate with hers.”
“You’ve heard that she has returned.”
“There’s little else buzzing around the palace. Irkalla’s crowing. But please, sit. Then you must tell me everything.”
Guntram glanced around the room furnished only with two chairs, a table, and a shelf-like bed. At least everything looked clean. After the refuse in the streets, he felt as though the scents permeated his skin. He dragged the robe over his head and tossed it next to the door.
“Not here,” Ninshubur said, when Guntram would have taken one of the rough chairs. The old man led them through a doorway at the back of the room, and into an apartment. At the light of a candle, Guntram’s eyebrows rose.
Rich mosaic tiles decorated the floor with images of the sun, moon, and several constellations. The walls were painted a deep midnight blue. A sumptuous bed with the mussed covers thrown back betrayed where the old man had been when they knocked. An ornate table of dark wood with a tiled top stood in one corner. Chairs with upholstered seats surrounded it.
Ninshubur must have noticed Guntram’s bemusement at the contrast between his outer room and this chamber. “I smuggled in some of my furnishings before I was banished from court,” he said, rheumy eyes twinkling. “But I must keep up outward appearances or become a target for thieves. No one knows about this room.”
Guntram grunted and dropped into one of the comfortable chairs at the table. As the elderly man bustled about, serving them bread, cheese, and wine, Guntram fought the same restlessness that had plagued him for days. His fingers drummed the table.
“Relax, Guntram. There’s nothing more we can accomplish,” Simon assured him. “We’ll find her tomorrow night.”
“Will she be well?” he asked, wishing the time-traveling mage would share some of what he already knew.
“She hasn’t come to any lasting harm.”
Guntram’s gaze sharpened at the ambiguous response.
Simon cleared his throat. “It won’t be easy to extract her from her current circumstance.”
“But she has come to no … lasting harm. Has she been raped, then?” he asked quietly.
Simon’s tight smile didn’t calm his fears. Gabriella was a proud woman. To be taken by force would be worse
That’s when Guntram heard it—a loud, piercing roar and the flap of huge, feathered wings.
They darted toward a stoop, melting into the shadows as they watched one of the winged creatures with the head of a lion and a powerful eagle-like body swoop down, pluck a woman from a doorway, and disappear into the sky again.
Guntram shuddered at the screams that faded into the night.
Simon darted out again, Guntram on his heels, and they ran, turning a sharp corner and coming to a doorway. Simon rapped on the wooden door with three quick and one single heavy knocks in succession.
Footsteps scuffled on the other side, the door cracked, and a single eye peered outside. Then the door flew open, and Simon slid inside.
Guntram glanced once more around the alleyway and slipped in behind him, closing the door. The smell of offal from the street didn’t penetrate the room. Something he noted gratefully.
Simon and an old man embraced, and then held each other at arm’s length. The old man’s eyes teared up. “Good to see you, old friend.”
Simon’s smile was tight but genuine. “Ninshubur, we need a place to rest until tomorrow night.”
“You must stay with me. I can’t believe you’re here,” the old man said, his voice breaking. “I thought the knock was a trick my mind was playing.”
“It’s been a long, long time.”
“Longer for you, no doubt,” the old man said, grinning. Finally, he peered beyond Simon’s shoulder. “Come deeper inside. You must eat. Then I’ll let you rest. I can only offer pallets. My circumstances have fallen since last we met.”
Simon nodded. “Inanna has much to answer for.”
“I should never have aligned my fate with hers.”
“You’ve heard that she has returned.”
“There’s little else buzzing around the palace. Irkalla’s crowing. But please, sit. Then you must tell me everything.”
Guntram glanced around the room furnished only with two chairs, a table, and a shelf-like bed. At least everything looked clean. After the refuse in the streets, he felt as though the scents permeated his skin. He dragged the robe over his head and tossed it next to the door.
“Not here,” Ninshubur said, when Guntram would have taken one of the rough chairs. The old man led them through a doorway at the back of the room, and into an apartment. At the light of a candle, Guntram’s eyebrows rose.
Rich mosaic tiles decorated the floor with images of the sun, moon, and several constellations. The walls were painted a deep midnight blue. A sumptuous bed with the mussed covers thrown back betrayed where the old man had been when they knocked. An ornate table of dark wood with a tiled top stood in one corner. Chairs with upholstered seats surrounded it.
Ninshubur must have noticed Guntram’s bemusement at the contrast between his outer room and this chamber. “I smuggled in some of my furnishings before I was banished from court,” he said, rheumy eyes twinkling. “But I must keep up outward appearances or become a target for thieves. No one knows about this room.”
Guntram grunted and dropped into one of the comfortable chairs at the table. As the elderly man bustled about, serving them bread, cheese, and wine, Guntram fought the same restlessness that had plagued him for days. His fingers drummed the table.
“Relax, Guntram. There’s nothing more we can accomplish,” Simon assured him. “We’ll find her tomorrow night.”
“Will she be well?” he asked, wishing the time-traveling mage would share some of what he already knew.
“She hasn’t come to any lasting harm.”
Guntram’s gaze sharpened at the ambiguous response.
Simon cleared his throat. “It won’t be easy to extract her from her current circumstance.”
“But she has come to no … lasting harm. Has she been raped, then?” he asked quietly.
Simon’s tight smile didn’t calm his fears. Gabriella was a proud woman. To be taken by force would be worse
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