Earth: End-June, 3,390 BC

  Village of Assur

  Ninsianna

  Ninsianna wiped the tears streaming out of her eyes as she chopped onions. Although Mama usually decided what was to be eaten in their household, she'd long ago learned that helping her mother prepare meals was in her own self-interest. Although Mama was a spectacular healer, her cooking skills left a lot to be desired. Charred meat, hard bread, soggy lentils, and overcooked vegetables were always on the menu in Needa’s kitchen.

  A laugh escaped her throat. When Ninsianna had been a little girl, she'd once joked about Mama’s roast goat always being burnt enough to break her teeth. Mama had run into her bedroom, crying. Papa had lectured her that, no matter how poorly cooked the meal, Mama’s diligence about ensuring everyone was fed was an act of love. As a healer, Mama had more important things do than cook and clean up after them, yet she always made time to cook their meals herself. No matter how badly Mama botched the meal, Papa ate it without complaint and thanked her afterwards for a fine supper. It was his way of telling her that he loved her.

  Ninsianna snorted, chuckling as a random thought crossed her mind.

  “What's so funny?” Mama asked.

  “Mikhail tried milking the goat again this morning,” she said. “It's the only thing I've ever seen him try that he was terrible at doing.”

  “Is this your way of saying there will be no milk with supper again tonight?” Mama stifled a laugh.

  “Oh, there is some left,” she said. “Just not all of it. I swear … Mikhail and the goat are like two old adversaries going to war.”

  “Who is winning?”

  “The goat,” Ninsianna laughed. “I don't know why he keeps trying! I told him I would do it.”

  Mama measured out a scoop of lentils and dumped them into a crock. Ninsianna handed her the onions and a pinch of herbs to add flavor. Tightly fitting the ceramic cover, Mama placed it into one side of the beehive-shaped oven to cook while Ninsianna stuffed wood into the firebox. Most houses in Assur had an outdoor oven and eating porch so that the inhabitants could take advantage of the breeze. Using the oven inside the house this time of year was out of the question. The bricks soaked up the heat and radiated them back into the living quarters all night long, making it unbearable to sleep.

  “Mikhail is just trying to help,” Mama said.

  “It's not necessary!” Ninsianna said. “You would think it was a matter of honor! He swooped in and grabbed her out of the field like a hawk this morning. And then he wonders why she fights him horn and hoof whenever he tries to get her into the milking shed? He can’t even fit in there all the way! He's too big!”

  “Mikhail is still finding his place here,” Mama said. “Helping is his way of saying that he appreciates what we've done for him.”

  Ninsianna chopped the greens she'd gathered earlier this afternoon from the garden. Chop-chop-chopping the vegetables with her obsidian blade, she considered whether to ask her mother what was on her mind.

  “If you chop those any smaller,” Mama said. “They will disappear.”

  “I was just thinking…”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think he will leave?" She scooped the greens into a wooden bowl and moved on to slice some cucumber. “When another sky canoe comes to find him?”

  “Mikhail loves you,” Mama said. “Even if he is rescued and has to finish whatever mission he was doing when he crashed here, he will come back for you. He will always come back for you.”

  “How can you be so sure?" Ninsianna asked. “How can –I- be sure? I mean … if we … and then … well …. I just don't think…”

  “Mikhail loves you." Mama gave her a hug. “He said that he would battle somebody named Shay’tan to come back to you.”

  “Who is Shay’tan?”

  “I have no idea,” Mama said, “but by the way he said it, I have no doubt in my mind he won't let anything come between you two.”

  Ninsianna mixed the cucumber with salt and flaxseed oil as she digested her mother's words. “It's just … the vision….”

  “What about the vision? You left things out, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your father and I suspected as much. What else did She-who-is show you?”

  “When the Evil One comes,” Ninsianna said. “Mikhail is not here to save me. I think it is him, but when I turn to embrace him, it's someone else! The Evil One tried … he tried to … Oh Mama!!!”

  Mama hugged her while she sobbed. Finally, she forced Ninsianna to look her in the eye and asked, “did the Evil One actually succeed in the vision?”

  “I don't know,” Ninsianna said. “Papa came in to tell me how to get out, and then I followed Mikhail’s voice back into the waking realm.”

  “So there is your answer,” Mama said with a knowing nod. “The goddess gave you this vision so that you can be prepared when the Evil One comes for you. You know he feels he has a mission to complete. If Mikhail can't be here to save you, then you must be prepared to save yourself. The gods help those who help themselves.”

  “But the Evil One is so powerful,” Ninsianna said. “In my vision, on the outside he is even more beautiful than Mikhail, but he couldn't hide the darkness in his soul. I think … I think he wanted to hurt Mikhail by hurting me and our… our … our … I think he wanted to get even by hurting the people Mikhail cared about.”

  “You said this Evil One is another winged creature like Mikhail, right?” Mama asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you must ask Mikhail to teach you how to defeat someone as powerful as him in case he's not here to do it for us,” Mama said. “All of us. Everyone in the village.”

  "Jamin has caused a lot of trouble," Ninsianna said, "telling everybody that Mikhail is a demon. If we tell the villagers the Evil One is a winged one like him, won't they start to distrust him?"

  "Tell them we prepare them to fight these other creatures She-who-is showed you," Mama said, "the ones you said looked like lizards."

  Ninsianna gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. “Mama … how did you get to be so smart?"

  “Oh, no!!!” Mama exclaimed. “The fish!!! Ninsianna … it's burning!!!”

  Laughing, Ninsianna ran to the oven and pulled out the fish. One side was charred and black, worse than anything her mother had ever tried to feed them. She just hoped Papa and Mikhail would forgive her when they got back from their meeting with the Chief. Maybe that’s why Mama was such a lousy cook … she always had more important things on her mind.

  “I love you, Mama!” She gave her another hug.

  Chapter 62

 
Anna Erishkigal's Novels