2. Lib­er­a­tors
I always thought the lamashu’s face looked like some kind of strange mask, with its black and white pat­terns. Mys­te­ri­ous and inscrutable. But up close, there’s no mys­tery to the sleep­ing creature’s face—just pain.

 

The beast reeks of feces and swarms with flies. It lies half-curled around itself, chest ris­ing and falling in ragged breaths. Mat­ted tawny fur. Gigan­tic feath­ered wings stretch to the walls, folded awk­wardly to fit. The black and white feath­ers turned gray and yel­low with grime and pus.

I fol­low Kiddu reluc­tantly as she approaches the crea­ture. Then I start cry­ing.

Just a lit­tle bit. I quickly wipe the mois­ture away, and cover by scratch­ing my nose—I don’t think Kiddu noticed. I wasn’t expect­ing any­thing rosy tonight. But lined up next to my grand mem­o­ries, the sight of the beast like this is shock­ing.

Only a few feet away, I can see one of its black horns is bro­ken off. Rough sur­face of red mar­row. Its sleep­ing face locked in a snarl. Yel­low teeth bared to the night.

Up until this moment it hadn’t really sunk in that we were actu­ally doing this. I was sure we would some­how end up back at the Tem­ple, hav­ing done noth­ing at all, our silly plans foiled by mun­dane real­ity. But now, I can’t imag­ine not set­ting the beast free.

 

“Here you go,” says Kiddu.

She takes out a small flask from her robe and hands it to me. With­er­ing tinc­ture.

“Um,” I say. “Don’t you want to do this?”

“You’re bet­ter with that magic stuff than I am.”

I turn the flask around and around in my hands.

“What,” she says. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Shh­hhh.”

“Damn it, Gil. If you’re scared of beasts, maybe you shouldn’t have joined Bes­tial Lib­er­a­tion.

“Will you just shut up? I’ll do it.”

 

I uncork the flask. An unc­tu­ous scent flies out like some leg­endary impris­oned demon.

The lamashu seems to notice the smell too. It grum­bles in its sleep and shifts its paw.

I freeze.

I wait a whole minute before mov­ing closer to the beast. Its head is as big as my whole torso. One of its front legs extends fully in front of its face. I’m going to have to step over that leg to pour this stuff on the chain.

I lift up my right foot. Then I just stand there, wob­bling, try­ing to fig­ure out where to put my other foot down. It comes a finger’s length away from brush­ing against the beast’s whiskers. I start to shake.

Panic.

I find my foot­ing in the lit­tle tri­an­gle of space between the beast’s elbow and face. Strad­dling its paw, I tip the flask onto the pearl­stone chain, as close to the col­lar as I can man­age.

The pearl­stone links bub­ble and fizz. Then they melt away, leav­ing an acrid, burn­ing stench. The jagged end of the sev­ered chain clat­ters into the dust. The beast’s whiskers quiver as I step away—but it doesn’t wake up.

“Mis­sion accom­plished!” Kiddu yells.

“Shh­hhh!”

We walk away from the slum­ber­ing beast. Before we turn the cor­ner, I look back at the lamashu one more time, before it flies into the night, away to the wild—

 

“Wait a minute,” I say. “How is it going to get out of here?”

Kiddu shrugs. “Won’t it fly away when it wakes up?”

“What if the Cir­cus peo­ple find it before that?”

“Oh,” she says. “You’re right. Damn it! Why didn’t I think of that?”

For some rea­son, I had assumed that Kiddu—or at least some­one in Bes­tial Liberation—had come up with a com­pre­hen­sive plan for free­ing the crea­ture.

“Well,” Kiddu says. “I ‘spose I’ll just—”

She starts walk­ing over to the beast. I grab her upper arm with both of my hands and jerk her back so force­fully that we both almost fall over.

“What?”

“No,” I say.

“Come on! I’m not scared of it. You know how they say the mys­tics used to ride these things into bat­tle—”

“NO.”

“You’re really no fun, you know that?”

“Can we please just get out of here?” I say. “Maybe we can throw some­thing over the wall to wake it up.”

From her pocket, Kiddu pulls out a small pouch with a thick string stick­ing out from the top. She grins.

“Is that a bomb?” I say. “Where did you get that?”

“Just a smoke bomb. I heard hard-core lib­er­a­tors always bring them on mis­sions. You never know when you’ll need to blow stuff up.”

 

We leave the sleep­ing beast and make our way to the Cir­cus’ back door. There isn’t any clear lever or device to open it form the inside. I try to open it with the key­wand, wav­ing it and twist­ing it in ele­gant arcs and slashes.

Noth­ing hap­pens.

“Want me to try?” Kiddu asks.

I take a closer look at the busi­ness end of the wand.

“No, it’s dead. Look—one of the lit­tle astrate gems is dark. It’s out of magic.” So that’s how Bes­tial Lib­er­a­tion was able to get their hands on such an expen­sive toy.

“Guess we’ll just have to climb over the wall,” says Kiddu.

“Um.”

“Come on! It’s only like six cubits. Here, hold my foot up.”

Kiddu has to show me how to do this—crouching down, hold­ing my hands together in a cup shape as a plat­form for her foot. It holds. Then she kicks her other foot off the ground, pro­pelling her­self up the wall.

I instantly fall over on my back. She lands on my chest.

She’s quick to roll off and help me up. After I catch my breath we try again.

This time she lands on my stom­ach.

“Kfu­ughnnngh!”

“Damn it!” she says. “Do I have to lift you up?”

 

The fifth time turns out to be a charm.

We both sit pant­ing on top of the rough brick wall, duck­ing down low. If any sol­diers patrolling the Divid­ing Wall had been watch­ing the Cir­cus, they def­i­nitely would have seen our clumsy wall-climbing escapade. But I don’t see any helmet-lights look­ing this way.

Since the Cir­cus is on a hill, I can see most of the city from my perch. It’s sur­pris­ing how pretty it all looks in the night.

Granted, the Divid­ing Wall is an ugly night­mare of brick and bar­ri­cades. But the Akka­dian part sur­round­ing the Wall’s big tri­an­gle looks peace­ful. Quaint, even, with its soft adobe build­ings and cactus-lined boule­vards. The only excep­tion to the quaint­ness is Emperor Zargon’s giant statue.

“I think we’re good,” Kiddu says.

She flicks the wheel on top of her lighter. A faint spark flies out, but not enough to light the wick of the smoke bomb. She tries again, but still no luck.

“Can I try?” I ask. She hands it to me. I’m about to turn to the slum­ber­ing lamashu below—but some­thing catches my eye.

There’s move­ment around the Emperor’s statue: a shadow cir­cling around the base. I squint at it.

In the faint starlight, I think I can make out a long, curved shape on its back.

 

“Look at that,” I say softly. “By Zarg’s statue.”

Kiddu looks closely, squint­ing too.

“I don’t see any­thing.”

“There’s a guy walk­ing around the statue.”

“Home­less per­son?”

“I don’t think so…”

I’m not sure, but it almost looks like the fig­ure is dump­ing some­thing out from a bag.

“Look!”

Now the fig­ure glows with a soft vio­let light.

“Okay, I def­i­nitely see that,” says Kiddu.

The light pools and con­cen­trates, nar­row­ing into a short bright beam. Like a glow­ing arrow.

Then the fig­ure launches this arrow. It sails up and over the Divid­ing Wall.

I look back at the fig­ure by the statue. Van­ished.

“Where did he go?”

Not a sec­ond later, there’s another glow—from a sec­ond fig­ure, perched on a dis­tant bank’s high rooftop. This glow is orange.

Then a whoooosh!, the sound of fire eat­ing air. A spear of orange light shoots out from the rooftop—straight into Zargon’s statue.

With a deaf­en­ing crack, the statue explodes.