The toy structure is four blocks high when the baby swats it down again. At almost a year old, Rehan is the youngest of Tarek’s children. The palace nursery houses all fifty-two of my siblings. I was so overwhelmed when we met I left, intending never to return, but Rehan’s brown eyes plagued me. She has our father’s eyes. We both resemble Tarek, me more than her. My friends and family looked past his face to see me, so I did the same for my sister. I no longer see him in her at all.
Rehan rocks on her bottom, her sturdy legs spread apart. I restack the blocks, wishing the city was this easy to repair.
From the corner of my eye, I see Kalinda enter the nursery. Her trousers and blouse are wrinkled, her hair tangled. Her gaze slices through me, one part relief, two parts urgent.
Rehan gnaws on a block, my tower forgotten. Kalinda sits in the nursemaids’ reading chair near a stack of children’s books and rests a larger one in her lap.
“Shyla told me you were here,” she says. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I come here every morning.” I add lower walls to the block tower.
“To do what?”
“Sometimes I read to the children. Other times we play games.” I continue to construct a miniature palace. “Visiting them helps this place feel like home.”
Rehan knocks down the tower again and claps at her conquest. She does not view me as her ruler. I am simply her brother.
“Deven didn’t come last night,” says Kalinda.
“At all?” I ask, looking up from the blocks. She jerks her head side to side. “Could you have missed him?”
“I didn’t fall asleep,” Kalinda retorts firmly. Rehan grabs my leg, anxious about her vehemence. The nursemaid across the chamber sends us cautionary glances. Kalinda explains, “I couldn’t have missed him. I was up all night reading.”
“Find anything interesting?” I ask, my tone buoyant to put Rehan at ease.
“Something terrible.” Kalinda palms the book in her lap. “This says mortal wanderers are doomed never to return to our realm. Deven will remain trapped below and lose his ability to die and be reborn. He’ll suffer an eternal death.”
I grimace. Severance from the gods is a penance beyond imagination for anyone, but especially for a man of faith like Deven. For a short period, he trained with the Brotherhood and almost joined them, eventually enrolling in the army instead.
“Is what the text says true?” Kalinda says, her pitch shrill.
“I haven’t read anything to refute it,” I reply. Rehan takes interest in the blocks again, decimating the palace.
Kalinda drops her chin, her fingers digging into her knee.
“I’m sorry, Kali.”
Her head snaps up. “Are you?”
“Yes.” I cannot place her animosity. “We’ve done everything we can.”
“We are not done,” she replies, pink flooding her cheeks. “We need to search harder for the tale of Inanna’s Descent, tell more people, bring on more readers.”
Her panic overshadows my concern for Deven. “This is consuming you.”
“Agh!” she cries. My sister’s eyes broaden at Kalinda. “Did you really forget the tale? Did you even try to save him?”
“You know I did.” I do not remind her of the long nights I spent researching in my library. Deven’s predicament goes beyond proving my diligence. I have not wanted to risk upsetting Kalinda more, but I finished searching the texts in my library the night after last. We are out of resources. “The gods may have a plan we cannot yet see.”
Kalinda recoils, her expression wounded. “You told me we’d search until we found him.”
“We have searched, but if the origins of the tale are oral, tracking it down may be impossible.” I run my hands through my hair to ease my fidgeting. “How you’re living, straddling our world and the evernight . . . No mortal should sustain that. Maybe Deven didn’t come so you’ll let him go.”
“I’m his only way home!” Kalinda says, jumping to her feet. Her sudden movement knocks over the chair, which hits the mound of children’s books. They tumble to the floor in a landslide.
Rehan startles and sucks in a lungful of air. As she howls, Kalinda’s chin trembles. I lift the baby to calm her. Her weeping rises to high-pitched wails.
“Please don’t cry,” I say, an appeal for them both.
“I’m sorry I upset her.” Kalinda bites her inner cheek and kneels to restack the books. “I’ll fix it.”
“It’s all right,” I say. “Just leave them.”
She organizes the mess while Rehan wails. I bounce the baby, at a loss for how to console either one.
The old nursemaid crosses to us. Sunsee, the nursery leader, takes Rehan and pats her back. Kalinda rights the tipped chair and drops into it, resting her face in her hands. Her nose hits her wooden prosthesis. She groans and buries her watery eyes in the crook of her elbow.
My suggestion that we may not free Deven was not meant to be callous. The longer this goes on, the more I worry I could lose Deven and Kalinda. She is thinking only of his well-being. Someone must think of hers.
Nursemaid Sunsee quiets my sister. “Might I suggest you read to her, Your Majesty?” she says, passing the baby back. “You could tell her your favorite story when you were little.”
“My favorite story?” I ask.
“Kindred Lakia recited it at bedtime.”
I comb my recollections, coming across nothing of the sort.
Kalinda shoves at her wet nose, damp from repressing tears. “I’d like to hear this story.”
“Come along,” says Sunsee. We follow her into a shuttered chamber in the nursery. She opens the draperies, revealing furniture and wooden toys. “Forgive the dust. This is reserved for the heir. It’s been unoccupied for some time.”
This was my room before I moved to the Brotherhood temple for the brethren to raise me. I explore the chamber and wait for fragments of my memories to return.
Kalinda wanders the perimeter. We reconnect at the bed. A haunting mural covers the wall behind the headboard. The painting depicts a subversive world awash with grays. A path of switchbacks divided by narrow gates meanders into the underground. As I track the path downward, I count seven gateways.
Kalinda approaches the mural in a daze. “Is this . . . ?”
“The tale of Inanna’s Descent,” finishes the nursemaid. She takes my squirming sister from me, setting her down to crawl. “This was Kindred Lakia’s favorite story. Some of the nursemaids would listen at the door while she told the prince.”
“Was there a book she read from?” Kalinda asks.
“No,” Sunsee replies, “she recited the tale by heart.”
I study the mural closer. “I have no recollection of this.”
“You were four years old, Your Majesty.”
Perhaps so, but Sunsee’s nostalgia implies I should remember.
“Why this story?” Kalinda asks.
“Lakia was fascinated by Inanna.” Sunsee points to a tiny outline of a woman at the top. Paths wind between her and the city at the bottom. A shining figure stands with the woman.
How could I forget my mother’s obsession with this tale? I have been a reader for as long as I can recall. At the temple where I grew up, I was the only child under the brethren’s care. Books were my best friends. Could my passion for reading have come from before the temple, from Lakia?
Kalinda indicates the glowing man with Inanna. “Who is that, Sunsee?”
The nursemaid’s voice hushes. “Inanna could not navigate the under realm alone. As the tale goes, she visited the gods’ mountain house temple and prayed for a divine guide to lead her. The fire-god took pity on Inanna and escorted her through the Void to her beloved.”
“Ashwin,” Kalinda utters breathlessly, “is this the detail you couldn’t remember?”
I pry my heavy tongue from the bottom of my mouth. “Must be.”
Kalinda blanches, her bloodshot eyes stricken.
Sparing Deven from an eternal death is possible, but only with guidance from a god.
6
KALINDA
Ashwin steps to my side. “I’m sorry, Kalinda. I should have remembered.”
He was a child, and his later interactions with Lakia were less than favorable. Had Ashwin recalled the entire tale, the solution to freeing Deven would be the same.
I exit the nursery in a haze. A god. I must find a god.