Tinley covers her gasp. “Haziq is there. He’s waving to me.” She clenches my hand hard. “He said he’ll find me in my next life.”
“But how?” I stammer. We are both viewing the same opening in the heavens, yet Anoush and Haziq are nowhere.
Enlil sweeps his spear over his head, and the glimpse into the Beyond ends. Deven and our hut in the lower Alpanas vanish.
Rawness boils up inside me. I reel on the fire-god. “I don’t understand.”
“The Beyond is a mirror of your heart’s wish.” His voice gentles to velvet. “What did you see, Kalinda?”
My deepest wish is vanishing a little every day. It is too fragile to speak of. “What’s your Beyond like?”
Enlil’s brow creases. “Incomplete.”
My annoyance dissolves. I should not be short with him, but my heart’s wish is a thin comfort without Jaya and Deven at my side.
“It is time for Tinley to depart.” Enlil strides to the falcon and pets its beak.
Tinley presses closer to me. “Kali, are you certain trusting him is a good idea? He looks at you strangely.”
Everything about this is odd, but Enlil is a god. I have worshiped him since my childhood. For Deven’s sake, I have to accept his aid.
“I’ll be all right. Will you?”
“I think so. My grandmother was right. Fate led us here to find the answers we seek.” Tinley pulls me close. “Find Deven, Kali. Find him and bring him home. Your friends and family will be waiting.”
I squeeze her harder than I normally would. She swiftly kisses my cheek, a rare show of affection, and strides to the falcon. Enlil boosts her onto its back. She waves farewell, and the mahati leaps into the sky. Star-Jumper flies into the clouds, and they vanish beyond the floating rotunda.
Enlil greets his horses and beckons me over. They remind me of Siva. One of them jerks at his bridle, also crafted from fire. I shrink from the enormous beast.
“Chaser recognizes you,” Enlil says.
From where? I would recall meeting a stallion of fire. Chaser butts his head against my extended hand. As with Siva, Chaser’s flames do not harm me. I pat his back and step onto the chariot after Enlil. He is so big I cannot avoid our sides touching.
“Most mortals are afraid of my chariot,” the fire-god notes.
“I’m not.”
“Then I hope you enjoy this.” He snaps the reins, and the horses take off.
Our ascent is more gradual than a mahati falcon’s. We rise into the violet sky through delicate clouds and closer to the unreachable dome. The higher we climb, the faster the horses gallop. I could fall out the back of the chariot, but Enlil stands behind me and blocks the opening. His protective stance spurs a thought.
We’ve ridden this way before.
Nausea simmers in my belly. I was someone else before this life. Many someones. One of the former versions of myself must have been close to the fire-god. Close enough to meet his horses. And if I am correct, she was of importance.
Our chariot speeds toward an expanding hole. We pass through it, exiting the splendor of Ekur, and fly over a desolate land of moody grays. Enlil lands beside a circular stone in the ground. We leave the chariot and approach the slab. Glyphs of an ancient script are etched all over it.
“What do they say?” I ask.
“It is a warning to intruders. This is the main portal to the under realm.”
Enlil hunts for something on the marker and then drives the end of his spear into a small indent along the rim. Brilliancy bursts across the stone, flowing out in a steady ripple, and the slab disappears. I peer over the edge.
A sludgy darkness percolates in the pit, not velvety or satiny like the shadows in the mortal realm but alive and squirming. The inky nest wafts of rotting sinew. Gooseflesh puckers my skin. The chilly evernight pours over the lip of the hole and swipes at my feet. I sidestep from contact, my joints rattling.
Enlil hoists his spear and straps on a satchel I did not notice he had. He may have summoned it from nothing. Gods can do that, I think.
“Kalinda, you have your powers, but are you otherwise armed?”
I reveal the turquoise hilts of the daggers at my hip. Since I am down to one hand, he must think I need another defense. “They were my mother’s.”
“Yasmin’s.”
“You know her?”
“We are acquainted.” Enlil disregards my astonishment and edges up to the portal. The writhing sludge retreats from him and simmers. “You will possess your Burner powers in the under realm, but they will not replenish. Do not rely on them unless you are in dire need.”
Standing at the doorway to the Void, all hope and love in my life feel far removed. “The gods cannot reach us where we are going, can they?”
“Anu and Ki have no authority in the under realm.” Enlil takes my hand. “I will not let any harm come to you, Kalinda.”
And I will defend him.
The whisper comes from far down inside me. Before I can pinpoint its origin, Enlil puts his toes over the pit.
“We could lose each other in the pathways of shadow, so we must jump as one.”
His warmth shields me from the cold emanating from the portal. I lock my knees to quiet my trembling and gaze into his burning eyes. The same strange voice inside me expels a dreamy exhale. I feel around for the source of it and discover a barrier, like a sealed hatch. Something dwells down past my inner sight. I dare not investigate further or I may let it out.
Enlil threads his fingers in mine, and we leap.
Seething winds accost my ears as the evernight charges in around us. Enlil’s lightning spear casts illumination at our surroundings. The portal opens to endless paths and upside-down stairways. We plummet past them, unobstructed by the meandering trails. Black scorched ground appears below.
“Bend your knees!”
I do as Enlil orders, and we land in a pile of sludge. The sticky muck absorbs our fall. Enlil lifts his staff overhead, illuminating our location. We fell into a tar pit. The gritty wetness rubs abrasions over my bare arms and legs where my trousers rode up. I squirm to get out only to sink deeper.
“Be still.” Enlil dives his hands into the tar and heaves me out of the sludge. At eye level, his gaze shines like piercing stars.
He slogs through the tar.
“How are you not stuck?”
“Nothing may kill me here. When you and I are close, the elements of the under realm cannot harm you as well.”
The tar gurgles. A bubble pops near my feet, and cold air flashes out, stinking of moldy chickpeas. Each inhale crowds my nose and throat, the very air strangling me. At the embankment, Enlil sets me down. We dropped into a massive cavern riddled with pits. Spiky rocks protrude down from the cave ceiling and up from the floor. In the places they nearly meet, the points look like fangs in an unwelcoming grin.
I wipe at the tar on my clothes and the sores where the substance chafed my skin. We have barely arrived and already Enlil has rendered me incompetent.
“Thank you,” I push out between set teeth. Enlil chuckles and melts the patches of tar off his legs. “What?” I ask.
“Your pride amuses me.”
“This isn’t pride. I simply prefer to take care of myself.”
“But you are unconfident in your ability to do so.” He lowers to one knee and cleans the tar off my skin. The stickiness melts and drips into puddles. “In another life, you were the greatest warrior of your generation.”
My heart thuds against the trapdoor. “I was?”
“I could remind you. Should you desire, I will retract the veil over your memories.”
I am tempted to see myself as he does, but that is not why I summoned him. “Who I was isn’t relevant to who I am now.”
He finishes and stands, his expression downcast. “The future is relevant to the present.”
“But you want to show me the past.”