CHAPTER TWENTY #2
He tries to smile, but his expression wobbles. “Gil is—was—a complicated being. He must have greatly annoyed some god.”
“The translation of The Epic says Enlil.” But I bite my lip. He knows what The Epic says better than I do. “Do you think you can wake him?”
“No.”
“But, then, who can? If it’s simply a curse, like the one he placed on you…” I don’t know why I insist, except that Alad’s breaking heart is breaking mine.
“Gil is Anu’s grandson. If it was a curse that put him in this state, it was done with Anu’s approval. It will be unbreakable except for when the breaking is required.”
“But Gilgamesh cursed you. Your mother is a goddess, right?”
“A far less important one than Anu. Plus, she likely saw my turning to stone as a good thing, a means of teaching me a much-needed lesson on family, duty, and loss. Or, even more likely, she saw the hand of Fate. Perhaps that’s why Anu did not interfere with Gilgamesh’s internment here.
His prison sentence will end when Fate has judged it to be the proper time and not a second before. ”
And there he is, wise beyond the capacity of wisdom.
I rub my nose against his soft fur. The scent of cedar and myrrh fills my nose.
There’s comfort in the smell, as well as holiness.
As we rest there, my eye catches a different glint of gold along the wall.
The color is dimmer than the walls, as if it’s been mixed with silver.
It’s rectangular in shape, propped at an odd angle in the far corner where shadows eat the light.
“Alad, what is that?”
“Hmm?” He follows my pointing finger and frowns. “I don’t know.”
Leaving his side and his warmth—though in truth, I’m less chilled than I should be; heat obviously seeps from somewhere—I lift what turns out to be a tablet. Hammered as thin as several glued sheets of paper, the weight is still extraordinary.
Alad shifts to his Second Form and plucks the tablet from my fingers before holding it up to the torchlight. “It’s addressed to me,” he says, shock rounding his voice. He casts a quick glance back towards the body of his friend.
“What does it say?”
He clears his throat. “To Alad, my shedu, whose grace and protection I never deserved.” Alad clears his throat again before glancing over his shoulder at the king. “He remembered me. He expected me to find him.”
“At least he must have hoped that you would.”
“Thank you, Gil. Thank you.” He returns his attention to me and kisses the top of my head. “And thank you, Charlotte, for coming with me and spotting this letter. I might never have known…” But his voice fills again with too much emotion.
After several moments, he begins to read once more.
“I tried to find you once my anger fled, once my grief at Enkidu’s death passed, once I realized the majesty and might of what death and life truly are.
We immortals always think so little of it, but everything dies, even the gods. And everything is reborn.
“I began a search for immortality, not for me, but for my Enkidu, for when he again lives and walks this earth, so that I might keep him with me, or so I thought when I undertook a quest against death.
I found his cure, but lost it. Then, I searched for you, Alad, but Anu, by his grace and wisdom, forbade my finding you.
Innana claims I am meant to live with regret, and in truth, repentance, loneliness, and grief have made me a wiser king than the one you knew.
I think you would be proud of me, friend.
I am, at my ending, what you wished me to be all along.
“You will want to know the terms of your curse. There is only this: when your i?arum is stroked by a whore’s hand, you will revive.
If you read this, as I know you will read this, in whatever world and time Fate desires, know that I love you.
I have always loved you, brother of my soul.
I just…” Alad swallows again, hard, and swipes at the tears running down his face in a torrent.
“I just needed some distance to discover it. Please forgive me. Know we are two rivers. We’ll meet again as all water does, and we’ll laugh at our foolishness in ever thinking we parted.
Until then, I remain your brother, Gil.”
“He loved you,” I whisper, squeezing his waist. “Of course, he loved you. Who wouldn’t?”
Alad nods and sniffs back his emotion. “Yes. I will… I will think on his words.”
“You’ll take the letter?”
“Yes. It was meant for me.” He asks me to hold the thin rectangle before he shimmers into his First Form once more. “I’m sorry. I’m too emotional to keep any of my other guises.”
“You know how much I like your First Form.” I send him a saucy look and am rewarded by a watery chuckle. “But we still don’t know who put Gilgamesh in this state.”
A sudden voice echoes from the other corner. From the dark shadow, a tall figure steps forth, taller than the body of Gilgamesh. The male figure is dressed in gold: gold chest plate, gold skirt, gold sandals, gold crown. He smiles at Alad before dropping his gaze to me.
He’s even more handsome than Gilgamesh or Alad and, somehow, more refined. Even so, I don’t like him. There’s something about the set of his chin that reminds me of Sir Gilead.
“Shedu. Your mother sends her love.”
Alad stumbles before dropping to his knees. He places his forehead against the stone before shifting a leg into an arm and hand and reaching up to drag me down beside him. “Your Highness.”
“Rise, Alad. And… Miss Butters?” The being’s words are strangely accented, broken into consonants that remind me of how Alad used to break my name.
“Prince Enlil.” Alad lifts me back up, holding me close against him.
The figure wavers, as if made of smoke in a draft of air. He’s like a ghost with incredible coloration. “Communication is difficult in this cycle of Nibiru, where we gods returned shortly after your sojourn into stone.”
“My mother is with you?”