December 5, 2008
Rainbow.
The rainbow is barely there, a scrap so faded you can only barely see its arc; it looks more like some careless smudge left by some careless painter than a rainbow. But it’s all he needs.
If you were to go by their names, you wouldn’t expect him to get anything useful out of a rainbow; after all, it is his brother who is Lord of Air, Lord of Sky, Lord of the Command. He is the Lord of Earth who lives in the sea.
But a rainbow is made of water.
And Enki is nothing if not crafty.
So he peels the scrap of color off the sky, pockets it, and returns home, smiling a smile his brother still finds unsettling, though it has never left his face.
April 10, 2008
At the Gate.
Neti pulled at the heavy gate. It was always a struggle to shut the damn thing; sometimes, the gatekeeper swore it had a mind of its own. Every day, Neti had to close it after the last of the day’s shades entered; every day, the gate fought him.
A flicker of movement caught Neti’s eye. He turned, surveying the grey road beyond the gate. Just as he thought; no one was there. With a shrug, Neti turned back to the gate, finally wrestling it shut.
“Neti,” rasped an unfamiliar voice.
The gray gatekeeper spun, brandishing his trusty gatekey before him.
Namtar laughed, in a broken voice not his own. Neti frowned, then squinted. Namtar seemed a little pale…
The Queen’s closest advisor dropped his hand from his throat, revealing a wide, ragged wound.
Neti was torn between moving toward his friend and away from this shade, so he stayed still. “Namtar?” he whispered, his throat dry.
“Someone slit my throat just beyond the gates. I don’t know who, but he moved past me, down here. I got the distinct sense that killing me was just a task he had to complete before getting on with his main task.”
Neti frowned. “You didn’t see your attacker?”
Namtar the new shade shook his head. “No.”
Neti’s frown deepened. “You suspect someone, though.” It wasn’t a question.
Namtar seemed to be struggling with himself. Finally, he whispered a name. “Nergal.”
Neti went almost as pale as Namtar. “He’s with the Queen…”
December 30, 2007
Freckles.
A gust of wind blew across the room, grabbed Mordred’s wrist, and tugged up his sleeve. “You’re speckled!” Imulu said, sounding a bit aggrieved.
Mordred sighed and tugged the sleeve back down. He greened his eyes just in time to see the demon lean forward to stare at his nose.
“They’re called freckles, Imulu. People with skin like mine get them, if they’re in the sun too long.”
“Oh.” Imulu kept staring at the freckles on Mordred’s face. “But not all pasty people get spots.”
“Freckles, Imulu. And no, I didn’t say all pasty people get them. People with skin like mine get them.”
“Oh.” Mordred jumped as the demon poked his nose. “There are many kinds of pasty skin, then?”
“Um, yes,” Mordred said, leaning away from Imulu’s touch.
“Oh. Do demons get speckles?”
“Freckles, and I don’t know.”
“Will I get speckles?”
Mordred almost laughed at the alarmed look on Imulu’s face. “Have you ever gotten any before?”
“Nooo…”
“Then probably not.”
“But I don’t spend much time in the sun…”
Mordred paused. “They’re not dangerous, you know.”
“Oh. Are you sure? Humans get spots when they’re sick, I thought.”
“Sometimes. It depends on the sickness. But freckles are just little spots. They’re okay.”
“Oh.” Imulu pondered this. “Is it like how some pasty people go brown if they’re left out too long?”
A pause. “Are you okay? You’re trying to chew your lip off.”
I’m trying not to laugh at you, Mordred thought. “I’m fine, Imulu. Yes, it’s just like that.”
“Okay, then.” The demon vanished from the office in another gust of wind. Freed from the constraints of politeness, Mordred put his head down and laughed himself silly.
First Meeting.
The person at the end of the dock turned to greet them. The Seven stared.
Imulu elbowed Hush. “I thought humans came in two kinds,” it hissed.
“Define ‘kinds’,” muttered Pirig. Imulu glared at it. “I’m serious,” Pirig said.
“It’s how they make more of ‘em, right? There are two kinds, and if you get one of each kind together and their parts fit right, and their plumbing works, they bake babies. Right?”
“Um,” said Hush.
Sigsig choked back a laugh. Nimur stalked over to the edge of the pier, looking like it’d rather be anywhere else. Urbarra and Ushum were studiously ignoring Imulu.
“Your point?” Nimur snapped.
Imulu waved its arms helplessly in the direction of the person, who looked amused. “Does … that look like either of the two kinds of human to you?”
Five sets of eyes looked in the direction Imulu was waving. Imulu stared at its siblings. Nimur stared at the sea they’d just crossed, looking cross itself.
A consternated silence fell.
That silence rapidly became an embarrassed one when Mordred said, in flawless Edini, “Welcome to the White Island.”
Two Sumerian Deities Sitting in McD’s.
“What are you eating?”
Enki looked up at his brother, then looked at his food. “It’s a hamburger, Enlil.”
Enlil looked disturbed. “What is it?” he asked, poking the bun.
Enki slapped his hand away. “It’s beef on bread. This has some other stuff on it, too.”
Enlil was still looking askance at the hapless food. “That doesn’t look like any beef I’d eat.”
“That’s why I didn’t buy you one,” Enki said, picking up his burger again.
Enlil watched his brother devour the burger with horrified fascination. “That’s disgusting.”
Enki tsked. “You’re so judgemental. How do you know that if you’ve never eaten one?”
“You like it; that’s enough for me.”
A serpent’s smile flickered across Enki’s face. “Well, look what happened to the last thing I liked.” Enlil glared. “Face it, little brother, I was right then.”
“Not hardly,” Enlil snapped. “They’re still a nuisance.”
“Ah, but,” Enki said, raising a finger, “a useful nuisance. Which you should know; you even admitted it after the Flood.”
Enlil hunkered over in his seat, radiating embarrassment. “They caught me while I was weak. And I bet you put them up to it.”
Enki laughed, drawing stares from the other customers. “I don’t need to tell hungry people to eat, Enlil. I certainly didn’t need to tell you to,” he added wickedly.
Enlil just stared.
Enki stared back, his mirth expended. “Which is why you won’t try any food I recommend, isn’t it? But you wouldn’t go near your elder brother just to criticize his dinner.”
It was as if Enki’s mild probing had flipped a switch in Enlil. He squared his shoulders, he sat up straighter, he smoothed out his expression…
And Enki kicked him. “Don’t go putting on airs, now. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Enlil glared at his brother, rubbing his sore shin. “Enzu.”
Enki stopped blowing bubbles in a drink that didn’t look like it needed the help and stared at Enlil in utter shock. Enlil, determined not to ask about the drink, stared back.
