WE CROUCHED AT the opening of the wardum hut. The sun was just sinking beyond the Ká-Dingir-rá, and I could hear soft, sweet singing inside. “Daria!” I hissed.
The song stopped. Daria peeked out of the hanging cloth, her eyes wide. “Jack! What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to say thank you,” I said. “For the darts. The guards at our house are out for the count.”
She nodded. Her eyes radiated fear even in the darkness. “I see. So now you will go to Mother’s Mountain. I am glad you came here first. I will go with you—”
“No way!” I replied. “You’ll get into trouble. Just tell us the route.”
“I will show you,” Daria said.
“It’s okay, we can do it,” Cass chimed in. “I mean, you just leave the Ishtar Gate, circle around the temple, and walk to the edge of the first barley field, right? And then after about fifty-three yards you make a left after the last furrow, where there is this hut and some wood pilings. So if the hut contains some water vehicle, we take it across the river, after which we get out and walk, I don’t know, approximately an eighth of a mile to the outer gate of the gardens.”
We all stared at him, dumbfounded. “What angle do we go across the water?” Marco asked.
“Maybe sixty-three degrees, give or take,” Cass said, “depending on the current? Sorry I can’t be more exact. I should be. I saw all of this on our way back from the king’s forest. But some of it is pretty fuzzy.”
“Dude,” Marco said, “what would you be like with a little confidence?”
“Huh?” Cass said.
Aly wrapped him in a hug. “You have not lost one bit of your powers, Cass. You just have to believe in them as much as we do.”
Daria had backed away from us and returned with a sack around her shoulder and an armful of shawls. “Wear this clothing. Cover your heads. The king must not know you have gone. I will go with you to the Ishtar Gate. Pul, the child of Nitacris, is very sick. I must help her. We all help each other. My friends, Nico and Frada, will stay with the baby for now, but they have been with Nitacris all day. I will talk to the guards. They know that Pul is ill, and they are kind to wardum. I will tell them we are going to the temple of Marduk to pray for help.”
“What if they ask us questions?” Aly asked.
“I will talk for you,” Daria said. “Bab-Ilum is full of people from many places. It is not unusual for wardum to speak languages the guards do not know. I will say that I must return by myself, to sing Pul to sleep. But you will remain for proper prayers. They will understand this. But we will not stop at the temple. Together we will go to the river. You will continue. I will return.”
We left right away, walking quickly from the wardum compound and across Ká-Dingir-rá to the Ishtar Gate. There, a group of guards were playing a game that involved rolling stones against the base of the blue brick wall. They barely looked up when Daria talked to them.
We scurried through the Gate’s long, dark hallway, emerging in front of the temple. Cass and Daria led us to a path that veered around the building. We walked across a broad stretch of farmland, and before long I heard the racing waters of the Euphrates. Daria led us to a hut, where the boats had been stored. Within minutes we were carrying a flat-bottomed boat, and a wooden paddle, to the river.
As we set it in the water, Daria’s hand shook. Her face was taut with concern. “There will be guards at the entrance,” she said. “The garden is very big. Mother’s Mountain is at the center. Nabu-na’id built a wall around it. He made an inner and outer garden, like the inner and outer city of Bab-Ilum—so now only the king can enter Mother’s Mountain. This inner garden is guarded by monsters, who came to Babylon from a foreign land. They are controlled by the garden keeper, Kranag.”
“Do you know this guy?” I asked. “Can you get him to let us in?”
Daria’s face darkened. “No one knows Kranag. Some say he is an evil god fallen to earth. He came to Bab-Ilum many years ago, around the time of Sippar, with a dark man who had a strange marking on his head. They brought many fierce animals. Great red bird-lions. Small beasts with white swords for teeth. Black birds with skin like bronze. Vizzeet, who kill with their spit.”
“Massarym,” Aly whispered. “With creatures from Atlantis. That must be when he brought the Loculus here.”
“Kranag does not see,” Daria said, “yet he is master of the animals. He can talk to the creatures, control them. People say he can become an animal himself. When Nabu-na’id built the wall around Mother’s Mountain, he enslaved Kranag there. With a job to protect and defend Mother’s Mountain.”
“And all those animals—they’re in there now?” I said.
Daria looked off into the distance. “Perhaps. You must be careful.”
Aly shook her head. “Now you tell us about this stuff?”
“It’s a game changer,” Cass squeaked. “Maybe we shouldn’t rush into it.”
“Hey, it’ll be fun!” Marco declared.
“How do you define fun?” Aly said.
Daria reached out. She rested one hand on Marco’s arm, the other on mine. “I understand if you want to go back.”
I looked up toward the Hanging Gardens and took a deep breath. I thought about the griffin and the Loculus. The marauding monks. Back then, if we’d been warned about the dangers in advance, we would have chickened out. But we were forced to go, and we did.
Sometimes you just had to do it.
“We’re rebels, like you, Daria,” I replied. “We’ve survived worse than this.”
She smiled. From a sack outside her tunic, she drew out a long torch, a small bronze urn with a cork cap, a piece of flint, and a crude metal knife. Last, she gave Marco a blowpipe and set of darts. “The moon is full tonight. Let it guide you. I believe animals are in there, but I do not know how many animals. I hope they are sleeping. I hope you will find what you need quickly. Most of all, I hope you do not see Kranag. If you do, retreat. He has no mercy, no feeling.”
“Thanks, Dars,” Marco said. He gave her a hug, and she held tight. When she let go, I moved closer to hug her, too. But she turned and walked away, back toward Ká-Dingir-rá.
One by one, we climbed into the boat. Marco and I dug paddles into the water. On the other side of the river, a light moved along the wall of the Hanging Gardens—a torch held by a guard who had not yet seen us.
We moved slowly, silently. By moonlight I could only make out the outlines of my friends, inches away from me. Cass was holding his pet lizard, comforting it. I looked back toward the shore. Daria had blended in with the night’s blackness.
But I could hear her singing.