“IT’S DIFFERENT FROM THE ONE I FOUND. MORE beautiful by far,” whispered Mo. “All those centuries in the Iraqi desert changed the other one.”

“Great. Let’s grab it and get going.” Curved thorns coated the stem. I had a feeling they’d be painfully sharp.

“Sik! This isn’t a dandelion littering the lawn. This is a sacred artifact. A holy object. You need to treat it with—”

I went up to the flower and, using my sleeve, plucked it off its stalk. “You were saying?”

“You have no soul. No poetry of the spirit.”

It still glowed, and I felt a gentle pulse of something warm and powerful radiating from the shimmering petals. “I have plenty of poetry.”

“Ha!”

I wasn’t exactly an expert on flowers, but this one looked more like an old rose than an orchid, small and cupped by petals as soft as dreams. It was difficult to look at it too closely—there seemed to be too many petals, all spiraling inward forever. Its perfume was delicate, changing from moment to moment, sometimes light and fresh, then heavy and cloying. I shook my head to clear it. “There once was a boy named Sik, who needed a flower real quick. So he went into a cave and, being quite brave, snatched it without getting pricked.” I tucked the flower carefully in my jacket.

Mo scratched his chin. “I wouldn’t quit the day job.”

The cave shook, echoing with a dull thud.

“Uh-oh,” Mo said. “There’s something outside.”

“Maybe it’s a cute little turtle?” I suggested.

The next impact brought pieces of coral raining down on us.

“Probably not.” Mo stepped away from the long tree branches that seemed to reach out for us. “Someone’s not too happy about us being here.”

The first person I thought of was Erishkigal. “Was this all a setup, do you think?”

Bigger chunks of coral broke after another tremor. Shards cut through the air like bullets.

Mo slipped back into the watery hole. “Let’s not wait here to find out.”

“What if it’s worse out there?” But I was talking to myself. I buttoned up my jacket and jumped into the water.

Drowning was easier the second time. Still achingly horrible, but less panic-inducing. Mo took the lead, and I paddled after him through the cave. The walls shook, and I tried hard not to think about being trapped in cold seawater for eternity. I put a few extra kicks in to get out a little faster.

When we reached the cave mouth, Mo turned around to check on me. I patted the flower that was firmly in place and warming my heart and gave him a double okay.

A huge shoal of fish circled the opening, barely acknowledging our presence. They mingled peacefully, searching and nibbling at the plants growing out of the immense mountain of coral.

But something else was out there.

Mo felt it, too. We floated, peering into the water ahead, but beyond the first fifty feet, it was only darkness. I gestured to Mo, mimicking a crawl close to the rock face. He nodded, and we drifted out and up.

It bolted out of nowhere. One second, there was nothing, and the next, a huge mouth opened before us, revealing the skeletal remains of whales and sea creatures even larger hanging within its mast-long teeth.

We pushed away as the creature smashed into the rock. The shock wave sent me spinning in one direction and Mo in the other. The coral splintered, and massive sections sheared off in an avalanche of color.

The Basmu serpent, it had to be. One of the children of Tiamat. Which Erishkigal had somehow neglected to mention. As more and more of its body appeared out of the darkness, it seemed endless. Its scales were glossy and dark, each one the size of a barn and encrusted with shells from a millennium of living underwater. The torso still bore the marks of battle. Some of the scales were dented, pitted, and cracked; others were missing entirely, revealing long, crooked scars in the bare skin beneath. Great spines ran along its back, and as it turned, I saw that each one was comprised of hundreds of smaller spikes, jutting out in all directions.

Something clamped my shoulder. My heart almost burst before I saw Mo. He signed, Okay?

The serpent circled above us, blocking any way up to the surface. Its great eyes searched the depths, but we were well hidden among the debris. For now.

Mo had picked up a long, jagged spear of coral. He gestured that I stay put. He was going to swim up.

I did a finger-twirl beside my forehead and pointed at him. You’re crazy.

He made a stabbing motion with the spear. I am a mighty hunter of the deep! I’ll take care of the serpent!

I clutched my stomach and opened and closed my mouth. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!

He shook his fist at me. Do as I say or else!

I rolled my eyes. As if.

He folded his arms. Got a better idea?

I grinned. Yup.

I removed the bag from my shoulder.

Considering it was a gift from a demigod, it didn’t look like much. The holes were big and uneven, and the rope was frayed. One good pull and it would probably fall apart. But even Kasusu didn’t exactly have that out-of-the-armory shine to it. The sword was old, spotted with rust, and its blade was chipped. Were all supernatural gifts disguised as junk?

Using my hand, I mimicked a fish swimming into it. We’ll trap it in this net.

Mo frowned. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.

I pressed my palms together. What do you mean? It’s a magical treasure!

We both looked up. The monster wasn’t going to leave. It was the net or nothing.

With a resigned expression, Mo took hold of one handle. I gripped the other.

I gave him a thumbs-up. Let’s go.

We kicked upward slowly, eyes on the serpent, a vast black silhouette circling around and around the rock. Sharks, far bigger than any great white from my world, trailed behind it, looking like tadpoles in comparison. You know you’re swimming in weird waters when giant sharks are the least of your worries.

The serpent was more than a creature; it seemed like a living monument, as eternal and elemental as a mountain range.

Mo let go of the net and kicked ahead of me.

What was he doing?

Oh no.

He was going to distract it to let me reach the surface. He didn’t think my plan would work. Typical! Why is it that older siblings always think they know best?

The sharks sensed him first. They broke off in ones and twos to follow him. Mo was going to get ripped to shreds. I paddled furiously after him, the bag dangling from my arm. I was in open water, away from the relative safety of the rock. There was no hiding place, and the sharks at the back of the line had turned their attention to me.

My heart raced. Life, in the end, is about survival. When everything else has been stripped away, the only options remaining are fight or flight. And once you make the choice, you have to put your all into it. There’s no point in half measures. I clenched my fist. I couldn’t fight like Belet, but before I got gobbled up, one shark was going to have to deal with a fierce punch to its nose.

A gigantic black shadow passed over us—the sharks and me—and the Basmu serpent opened its maw.

The sharks didn’t stand a chance. The serpent could have swallowed the Empire State Building sideways. One massive gulp and they were all gone.

Now it was my turn.

As it widened its mouth, I saw other heads writhing within. That’s right—the serpent had five other heads inside the main one, and they came forward now, all snapping and biting eagerly. Their eyes glowed a malevolent greenish yellow, and their fangs still had bloody chunks of shark meat skewered on them. Their necks stretched out from the serpent’s throat as the heads shoved each other aside, fighting over which would be the one to swallow me. They extended farther and farther out of the main body, as if the Basmu serpent was vomiting fresh, slimy offspring.

It looked like I was going to spend an eternity in the belly of that thing. I’d have plenty of time to review all the stupid life choices that had brought me here.

The Basmu flinched. It shook itself, twisting its head at a tiny figure hanging from its face.

Mo!

He had jabbed the spear into its huge eye. The Basmu jerked again. I doubted the pinprick had hurt it, but no one likes being stabbed in the eyeball. Mo dangled off one of the spines running along the serpent’s snout, and he was now being tossed from side to side.

The inner heads were working their way around to him.

Mo’s coral spear snapped. He’d tried to screw it through the serpent’s pupil, but the lens was too tough and the coral too brittle. The serpent flicked its head, and Mo lost his grip and spiraled through the water. Two of the inner heads darted toward him.

My bag began to glow. Heat tingled through my fingertips as it pulsed with golden light.

And that got the Basmu’s attention. Its whole, mile-long body arced around. The displacement of so much water sent me rolling back toward the rock.

The five inner snakes forgot my brother. The glow of the net sparkled upon their scales. It was almost hypnotic.

I let go of one handle, and the bag unraveled quickly, reaching the size of a soccer net and then doubling every second. Soon I could have cast it over a house. I pulled the other handle off my shoulder. The rope still seemed ridiculously feeble.

As best I could in water, I threw it.

The net spun slowly, still expanding as it rotated. The snake heads snapped at it from different angles. I was sure it would tear with no effort.

But it didn’t. The net caught on the spines, the rough scales, and the mane of horns surrounding the main head of the Basmu. The serpent curled around, thinking it would snag the net with its tail and use its whole body to rip it asunder. That was a mistake. The net got snared on the array of spikes jutting out at all angles from the tail, and now it was tangled front and back.

The Basmu serpent thrashed desperately as more and more golden threads wove over its body, locking it down segment by segment.

It began sinking. Bound up from head to tail, it couldn’t swim anymore and was now a twenty-mile-long deadweight, looped in over itself like a ring of impotent fury. It never quit fighting, but the more effort it put in, the tighter it trapped itself. Only the web of golden light glowed up from the fathomless depths, growing fainter and fainter until it was finally swallowed by the darkness. I wondered if the Basmu would continue to sink for all eternity.

Totally not my problem.

I twisted until I was pointing straight up and then began kicking.

I broke the surface and found Mo had already climbed onto a small rock, barely breaking the water’s surface. He pumped his fists at the sky. “Allahu Akbar!”

The storm had passed. The sea barely rippled, and a dense fog hung over it. Mo helped me onto the small boulder and hugged me.

He held me in front of him. “The flower! You still have it?”

I opened up my jacket, and there it was, glowing softly.

“Mashallah!” Mo laughed. “You did it!”

“We did it.” I shivered as I looked around. I couldn’t see more than a few yards.

Then I noticed movement in the sky—a small shadow. With a sharp cry, a bird circled above us. I frowned. “What’s a pigeon doing here?”

“It’s a raven,” said Mo. “It’s going to lead you home.”

“That mangy bird? How do you know?”

“Just swim after it.”

“Swim? I’m never going anywhere wet ever again!”

“Listen to me, Yakhi.” There was an intensity in his voice now. “I’ll tell Mama and Baba you’re on your way to save them. I’ll ask them to hang on, stay out of Kurnugi as long as they can, but we’re all counting on you.”

I grabbed his arms, fear accelerating through me. “No. We’ll save them. Both of us. I can’t do this without you, Mo.”

“I don’t belong in your world anymore.”

“You do, Mo. You do! I can’t lose you again.”

“Sik, you have to let me go.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’re the best. You always have been. I just wish I’d told you that every day.”

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I was jealous of you, Mo. I hated the way everyone was more interested in you than me. How you were the hero, and I just worked in the back. I…I wanted you to fail. That way you’d have had to stay home.” How can a heart break twice? “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Me? The hero?” Mo grinned, despite the tears trailing down his cheeks. “I think Gilgamesh himself would have a hard time beating what you just did. Just be a hero for a little while longer, okay?”

I tightened my hold, digging my fingers deep into his flesh. I hugged him with all my might. “I’m not letting you go.” I couldn’t survive losing him again, not when he was right here. “I’m never letting you go.”

“It’s not meant to be…” he said.

“Then let me take your place in Kurnugi.”

Anything, anything to have him live again. If that’s what it would take to bring my brother back, that was fine by me.

“We’ll see each other again, one day.” Mo kissed my forehead. “Inshallah.”

“Please, Mo…Don’t leave me.”

He laughed. “We had our one great adventure, didn’t we?”

I felt him go. His warmth first. Then the beating of his heart against mine. His soft breath lifted, no longer disturbing the air. Finally, he faded from my embrace.

“No, no, no…” I gazed, bewildered, at my empty arms. I’d lost him again. I bowed my head. I just wanted to fade away, too. I couldn’t keep going. Not without my brother. I could just give up.

Then something floated over the quiet water.

His laughter. Full of joy, full of fun, and so full of…life.

It echoed from all directions, as if Mo’s spirit surrounded me. I wiped my face and forced myself up. He wasn’t really gone, just out of sight.

The raven took off. It beat its wings above me, waiting.

I zipped up my jacket. The raven called for me to follow.

“We’ll see each other again, Mo!” I shouted. “Inshallah!”

I slipped back into the water and started swimming.