For Centuries More

by Ethan Johnson

  Gracie rolled her eyes. “And another mouth to feed. This is getting ridiculous.”

  Jacqueline patted her on the shoulder. “What do you care? I’m paying for it.”

  “Oh, sure, now Fortune whips out the checkbook,” Gracie jeered.

  “Watch that smart mouth, missy, or I’ll cut you off. This is temporary.” She turned to Agnes. “I expect you two to get jobs.”

  Agnes nodded. “Money isn’t going to be a problem.”

  Gracie elbowed her in the ribs. “Shut up and nod, stupid. Yes, Jacqueline, we’ll be good.”

  Jacqueline smiled and pulled them in for a group hug. “Well,” she said, “this isn’t what I expected to get out of this trip, but maybe that’s a good thing. And I did accomplish one goal: I know where Marc is now.”

  “Yeah, for all the good it will do you,” Gracie said. “I mean, this kid is in a coma or something. I figure some heavy crap went down. Sorry I missed it.”

  Agnes hugged Jacqueline tightly. “Thank you for everything.”

  Jacqueline squeezed back and said, “We’re sisters. This is what we do.”

  Gracie squeezed tighter. “I was here first. And here’s a little free advice: you probably should keep whatever happened under your hat. I still don’t understand most of the stuff I’ve seen her do. I figure the less we say about it, the better. Good luck sleeping for the next week or two. Teleporting is a bitch.”

  “I’ll keep it under my hat.” Jacqueline disbanded the group hug. “But I do have to ask, Agnes, are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

  James rose from Aubra’s side. “Well, I mean, I’m not technically—”

  Agnes pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Jacqueline, this is James. He’s my boyfriend.”

  Jacqueline swallowed hard and looked them up and down. “Well, my sisters have… unusual partners, but if Agnes is happy, I’m happy.” She shook his hand formally.

  James squinted up at Jacqueline and adjusted his glasses. “Unusual how? Is this a black thing?”

  “You run with a different crowd than I am accustomed to,” she said. “Unless the manor is a code word for Harvard.”

  “No,” he said, “but I really wanted to go there. My parents sent me to Eddington instead.”

  Jacqueline beamed. “I like this one. I’ll talk to my contacts and see what I can do.”

  “Barf city,” Gracie said, rolling her eyes. “Okay, visiting hours are over. The kid doesn’t need to listen to us play catch-up.”

  “Agreed,” Jacqueline said. “I have to get back to New York. The needs of the business never stop, I’m sad to say.”

  “Also, your kids miss you and crap,” Gracie said.

  “Yes, of course,” Jacqueline said. She took one last look at Aubra. “I can inquire with Dr. Howell if he knows any specialists that could be of help. Let me know.”

  Agnes smiled and nodded. “I will. She has a tough road ahead of her.” She gave Aubra a wistful stare. “Trust me.”

  EPILOGUE

  Gene and the countess emerged from behind a billboard. She patted her hair and got into character. After urging Gene to let her do the talking, she waved her hands to an oncoming car. As she had hoped, it was occupied by a single person: a balding middle-aged man wearing a tweed jacket. He lowered the window. “Can I help you?”

  “I most certainly hope so,” she trilled. “You see, some ruffians absconded with our vehicle, and we simply must get back to town to alert the authorities.”

  The man held up his cell phone. “Want to use this? I don’t mind waiting.”

  She accepted the phone and tossed it to Gene. “How very thoughtful of you. Bless your heart.” She dug into her bag and produced a silver revolver. She dropped the trill and brought back the twang. “But I prefer to drive. Get out of the car, or I’ll blow your damn head off.”

  The man raised his hands and Gene stepped forward to hustle him out of the car. The countess took his place behind the wheel and gestured to Gene to get in the other side. “It ain’t personal, pal,” Gene said. “It’s just that sleeping and eating in the woods sucks.” He plopped down in the passenger seat and slammed the door.

  The man cried out after them as the countess sped off.

  “Not a bad ride,” Gene said.

  “I’m glad you like it. It’s yours. Well, it will be, after I get where I need to go.”

  “Fricking wonderful,” he said. “Point this thing to the closest fast food, willya?”

  “As you wish,” she said.

  Phillip Mercer stood in a vacant lot across from a brown stockade fence. A red brick building stood beyond the fence, topped with a domed roof. Two carved birds appeared to watch over the compound from ornate pedestals. Phillip zoomed in with his camera and shot photos of the visible structures.

  His efforts to track down Marc Morris, the man he blamed for the mysterious death of his parents, led here. The last private detective he hired to find Marc vanished after following what he said was a solid lead. A homeless woman insisted she had worked for someone named Marc in this very compound. She said he had a girlfriend that matched the description of the woman Phillip had seen on the security footage at the Forty-Nine Palms in Dubai shortly before Phillip arrived at his parents’ condo to check up on their welfare. The condo dissolved into sand minutes after he arrived. He felt a surge of fury at the memory of his parents rendered in marble, then dissipating in a billowing cloud of dust.

  Phillip lowered his camera, then fished his cell phone from his coat pocket. He dialed a number and waited for a gravelly voice to answer. His wish was granted after three rings. A low voice croaked, “Yeah?”

  “I trust the arrangements are in order,” Phillip said.

  “Yeah.”

  “When can I expect results?”

  The man at the other end of the phone exhaled, then grunted. “Sleep tight. I’ll bring him to you on a platter in the morning. Does that suit you?”

  Phillip smiled and gazed at the compound. “Results, not promises,” he said.

  After a short pause, the man at the other end said, “Tomorrow morning.”

  Phillip terminated the call. At long last, he would have his revenge.

  Marc awoke in his bed with a pounding headache. Two soldiers stood to either side of the bedroom doorway, each clutching a spear and staring impassively forward. Marc sat up and ran his fingers through his mop of hair. “I don’t recall seeing you two before.”

  The soldiers did not respond. Marc shrugged and got out of bed. He yawned and padded over to the doorway in search of Inanna. The soldiers crossed their spears and gave him a hard stare. He took two steps backward, and the soldiers uncrossed their spears. Marc stepped forward again, and again was barred passage.

  “Uh, excuse me, I’d like to take a walk, if you don’t mind.” He tried to slip past the spears, only to be denied forward progress by another pair of soldiers, this time armed with swords. They unsheathed them and pointed the tips menacingly at Marc’s throat. “Or, I can just chill out here, that’s cool.”

  Marc wandered back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. He had never felt like a prisoner in Tobias’s fledgling kingdom before. Now he chafed against his confinement. He stood and advanced on the guards once more. “Excuse me, do you know who I am? I need to get to Inanna. Step aside.”

  The guards crossed their spears and did not yield. The sword-bearing guards took their position beyond the threshold. Marc threw his hands up in disgust. “Unbelievable.” He sat down on the bed once more in defeat.

  The guards stood clear of the doorway once more, and Inanna entered the bedroom, wearing her usual green dress and chunky gold necklace combination. Her feet were bare, as was increasingly her custom. Marc felt a pang of relief that she was covered, for a change. He hated her nude walks around the compound, and always wrestled with intense jealousy as he saw the looks other men were giving her as she passed. She, for her part, always seemed to relish the attention, which gave Marc fits
.

  Inanna nodded to the guards and walked over to Marc. “My Marc is awake. Inanna missed her Marc.” She stood before him and kissed his forehead.

  “I tried to come looking for you, but Frick and Frack over here wouldn’t step aside. What gives?”

  “Inanna wants her Marc to be safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  Inanna took a deep breath and smiled. Marc wasn’t entirely sure, but she seemed to be choosing her words carefully before speaking. “Tobias has been driven from this place. He tried to kill Marc. He tried to kill Inanna. Inanna will not be parted from her Marc.”

  Marc rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I can’t believe he flipped out like that. He was always so patient and reasonable. I’ve never seen him get violent with anybody. I wonder what changed. He kept going on about treachery and betrayal.”

  Inanna pulled him close and buried his face in her breasts. “Tobias was a bad king. He is gone, never to return.”

  “Well, if he’s never coming back,” he muttered into her chest, “why can’t I leave the bedroom?”

  “You will, soon. Not now. Inanna must be sure her Marc is safe.”

  “I’m safe. Snug as a bug, actually.” Marc cocked his head. “Hey, wasn’t my family here? I remember seeing Gracie up on the roof, and some little girl—”

  Inanna kissed his forehead and looked lovingly into his eyes. “Sittu,” she said, and Marc’s eyes drooped shut. He slumped onto his side and Inanna stepped away, wiping her lips with her fingers. She commanded the guards to put Marc in bed properly, in their language. Once he was tucked in, Inanna took one last look at him before leaving the bedroom bearing a satisfied smirk.

  Inanna headed for the throne room where Tobias once sat. The throne was solid gold, but since the fall of the king, the throne had undergone some refurbishments. New designs were incorporated into it, featuring snakes coiling around the legs and armrests, and two golden vultures perched on either side of the backrest.

  Spear-bearing guards in golden armor nodded to her and stood sharply at attention as she reached the throne room entrance. Four more guards stood on either side of the golden stairs that led to the throne. The bodies and blood of Tobias’s honor guard had been cleared away without a trace. The floor was so shiny as to appear wet. Flames from great braziers danced upon the reflective floor. Inanna ascended to the throne and sat. She ran her fingers over the armrests and smiled approvingly. A man dressed in a simple brown robe entered the room and knelt before her. “What is thy bidding, great Inanna?”

  “Bring forth my soldiers, loyal Shalmah. I would speak with them.”

  The man nodded and shuffled away. Moments later, thirty soldiers decked out in gleaming golden armor with green capes stood in formation before her. Ashur-Tab, their leader and commander, filed in last and took his place before them. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

  “We are yours to command, mighty Inanna.”

  She nodded to him and flicked her fingers upward. “Rise.”

  Ashur-Tab stood.

  “The time of battle is over. Victory is final, and definite. Dread Nineveh stands no more. The people of this time do not speak of that place. Nor do they speak the name of Inanna. They shall, to the last. Those who do not shall perish.”

  The soldiers raised their weapons and gave a single cheer.

  “My temple is nearly complete. Your men shall finish the work others have begun. I require certain adjustments before this temple may be sanctified, and the reign of Inanna shall begin anew.”

  The soldiers raised their weapons again. “By Inanna’s command,” they chanted.

  “No harm is to come to my Marc. He must remain in my chambers until I call for him. Death to any who defy my orders.”

  “By Inanna’s command,” the soldiers chanted.

  “Set about to your tasks at once,” Inanna said. “This great temple shall be sanctified with the blood of our enemies. When your labors are complete, so begins the last great war. Your life for Inanna. Swear it now, before me.”

  Ashur-Tab bowed to Inanna, then turned to his men. “Our lives for Inanna. By Inanna’s command,” he shouted.

  The room reverberated with the chants of the soldiers as they stabbed at the air with their weapons. Inanna smiled upon them from her lofty throne and reveled in her triumph as the chant swelled.

  Inanna! Inanna! Inanna!

  Ethan Johnson resides in Florida with his wife and dog. If you see him at Disney World, that’s completely normal.

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