Daemons of Garaaga (Children of Garaaga)

by Paul E. Cooley

  The two guards looked at one another and then both pointed through the gates.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  "I'm free later on," one of the guards said.

  Ama kept walking, but threw him a withering look over her shoulder.

  The man shuddered and then averted his eyes.

  More torchlight flooded the area beyond the gates. Most of the vendors were guarding their wares, counting their money, and drinking at their tents. This time of night, only the performers would be at the celebration.

  Ama knew where to go. The snake man. The contortionist and juggler. The Ušumgallu was one of Tahira's troupe.

  She walked through the eastern side of the tents, smiling at the merchants and hawkers. They barely gave her notice. Once she was past the last of the tents and beyond the glare of the torches and fires, she crept west in slow steps.

  Approaching the tent from behind would be best. Tahira or her two companions might be on the lookout for her. The last thing she wanted was to fight all three of them. Garaaga's shadow had made her fleet, but as always, there was a cost. Exhaustion was slowly creeping through her muscles and her stomach fluttered with hunger.

  You're always willing to take the risk for someone else, Ama. But never for yourself. Just like with Yusef.

  "It was for me. And for Yusef," she whispered to the darkness.

  When she reached a vantage point allowing her to see the entrance to the troupe's large tent, she dropped to the ground. Like a snake, she stayed on her belly and sniffed the air. The odor of rotten offal and blood was just below that of beer and cooking meat. Ama kept her eyes on the tent and waited.

  16

  It had been a month since she first coupled with Yusef. Since she had started feeding on her own, her body had grown taut and strong. Each night had been filled with love making on the river bank followed by swims in Mother River.

  At first when she returned home, Hela had been pleased. But that had ceased. Ama's mother was put out that she was spending so much time with one man.

  Long after Sin had set and the sun glowed on the horizon, she had walked into the house to find Hela waiting for her.

  "You were with the boy again." Hela was sitting on her pallet, her face set in a thin line.

  "He's not a boy."

  Hela sighed. "Yes he is, little one. Nothing but a boy. You were probably his first lover."

  "What does that matter?"

  "It matters." Hela stroked her shawl. "We can't love like they can. And falling in love with them is dangerous."

  "Dangerous?"

  Hela's lips curled together in a sneer. "Very."

  "Is that why you won't tell me about my father? My mortal father?"

  "Sit." Hela patted the pallet. "Sit. And I'll tell you whatever you need to know."

  Ama brushed a bang from her eyes and obeyed. Her mother stared at the ceiling for a moment. "What do you want to know, little one?"

  "Who was my father?"

  "An Elamite. Little more than a soldier, really."

  "A soldier?"

  Hela nodded. "They came upon Ur like a plague. Sacked the city. They raped, they tortured, they killed. Unlike a plague, they stayed."

  "How did you meet him?"

  "While he was on duty, guarding the city gates. I spent many a night walking the streets of Ur, little one. I--" She shook her head. "I watched them destroy my city. My home. I saw them kill children until the parents bowed and swore loyalty. Old women were dragged across garbage to have their legs spread and used until they were little more than a bloody gash."

  Hela's eyes glowed. Her right arm was turning to stone. Ama leaned away from her mother, but said nothing.

  "I thought 'no mortal deserves this. No one does.' So once they were established, I made sport of them. Fed. Killed. Murdered. Butchered.

  "What I hadn't considered, daughter, was the Elamites would exact such a heavy revenge. They held public executions. They burned suspected houses. They dragged the entire populace into the square and promised random death until the murders ceased.

  "So I stopped. Instead of killing them outright, I fed upon them. Drained them. Left them weak. I did that for years, aging young men, haunting their dreams, draining their power until they were incapable of coupling with their wives and unable to plant their seed. But it was pointless. There were too many of them. The Elamites kept coming, filling the city."

  "So how did you meet him?"

  Hela's eyes swung toward Ama. The crimson had faded to a dull maroon. "Each time I ventured from the city, he greeted me, smiled at me. His fellow guards would make unkind remarks, but he never laughed with them and always looked embarrassed at their behavior. He was kind, beautiful, and gentle. I think I fell in love with him.

  "But he was a boy, Ama. A boy. Young, stupid, and careless," she spat. "He-- He made the mistake of bragging about our love."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means he told his fellow guards. And then they wanted me too."

  "I don't understand. What do you--"

  "They raped me, little one. Five of them. And I let it happen."

  Ama felt as though she'd been stabbed. "But, Garaaga's shadow--"

  She shook her head. "I couldn't risk it, Ama. Too dangerous. I couldn't--" Hela wiped a tear from her eye. "I couldn't."

  "What happened?"

  "I healed. Garaaga spoke to me in my dreams, demanded revenge. And I complied.

  "I invited them to the river. The five of them and my lover. And I killed them all. They died emasculated, bloody, and in pieces. Your father watched in horror, little one, as I did the deed." Hela's eyes had begun to glow again. "He tried to stop me more than once, but I only had to hold him in my gaze to stop him. He watched. I killed. And when it was done, I took him, coupled with him while we were still slick with their fluids.

  "Garaaga let him plant his seed in me. And then I dispatched him by breaking his neck."

  A wave of nausea broke over Ama. "Why? Why did you do that?"

  "It's what your real father commanded. And it's what you will one day have to do as well."

  "No, Hela. I-- No."

  Her mother stood from the pallet and stared down at her daughter. The sad expression on her face had dissolved into a mask of hate. "No? You think you can say no to what you are? To your true father?"

  "We don't have to kill. We don't have to!"

  "You'll understand one day, Ama. But I would spare you this pain. Feed from the boy. But don't fall in love. Or you will regret it."

  Ama stood, wrapped her shawl around herself and walked to the door. "You are a monster," she spat.

  "And so are you," Hela's voice followed her out of the house.

  Although in need of sleep, Ama had spent the better part of the day walking the city. The people of Ur went about their business--shopping, working, drinking, eating, laughing. She studied them while her mother's story rattled in her head.

  Were the men she saw with Yusef that first day all that different from the friends of Hela's lover? Would they take her? Force her? Brutally assault her while she was incapable of fighting them?

  Ama found it difficult to believe Hela hadn't fought them, at least played with their minds, even redirect their lust on another.

  I let it happen, Hela had said.

  The phrase didn't make sense. None of it did.

  As afternoon turned into evening, she headed back home. Hela wasn't there. Yusef would be headed to the river for their evening swim. She had to hurry if she was to meet him.

  She reached into the clay bowl by her pallet and lifted four small lapis stones. She looked into the brilliant blue veins and sighed. The colors would fade to white once she finished coupling with Yusef. With the stones secreted away in a small pouch she tied to her waist, Ama headed toward the river.

  Sin hadn't yet risen over the horizon when she neared the bank and heard the sounds of moaning, heavy breathing, and a mixture of pleasure and pain. At first, she smiled thinki
ng another pair of lovers had decided it was too nice a night to meet indoors. But then she heard the sound of her own name and started running.

  Near the trunk of her favorite olive tree, a single shadow writhed and moved. Ama narrowed her eyes and brought the beast forward. The darkness became a twilight of black and white. The silhouette of a woman moved up and down atop a prone figure.

  "Ama," an exhausted voice rasped.

  A fire of rage warmed her belly. She ran at the pair, arms outstretched and turning into taloned limbs of stone. When she reached them, her arms encircled the violator, lifted it, and threw it off Yusef.

  A screech of anger split the quiet night. Ama whirled around, eyes burning bright enough to light her mother's face.

  Hela, naked and slathered in sweat, sneered up at her daughter. "I told you it was dangerous to fall in love," she tittered.

  "Ama," Yusef whispered.

  She looked down at her lover, already steeling herself for what she would see. Her mouth dropped open as she stared.

  Yusef's dark mane was shock white and had grown. His once smooth skin was bleached and covered in wrinkles. His eyes had sunk into their sockets and barely held more than a glaze of consciousness. Dried blood was caked on his inner thighs. The endless exertions had ripped his foreskin into bloody flaps of flesh.

  "Ama," he said again. "I didn't--" A whistle of breath broke from his nose and then his body went slack.

  Ama fell to her knees and lifted Yusef's head. Her lover's skin was still burning in the cool night. She kissed his forehead and closed his bloodshot eyes. She looked up at her mother. Hela stood several steps away, the sneer still on her lips.

  "Why?" Ama asked. Her lips quivered as the rage and grief swirled in her chest. Garaaga's shadow was screaming inside her, feeding off the emotions. "Why?"

  "He came looking for you," Hela whispered. "He found me instead."

  Ama looked down at his face once more. She dragged a finger across his haggard, white face. "Lover," she whispered.

  "Not love," Hela tittered. "Just a toy, child. And now it's broken."

  Ama shook her head. "Never a toy." The shadow roared as she let it come forward.

  Her body lengthened and widened, flesh turning to stone, eyes burning like the sun. She leaped off his corpse toward her mother, fangs and talons bared. Hela stumbled backwards as Ama landed in front of her and slashed with her hands.

  Blood flew from the four deep gashes in her cheek. Hela fell with a scream that turned into a demonic screech. Her flesh paled. Ama's next two strikes drew sparks off hardened skin.

  Ama kicked out with a clawed foot and smashed into her mother's hip. Hela rolled away shrieking in pain. Hela flipped over and stood on unsteady feet while her child circled her.

  "What are you doing?" Hela said as she wiped blood from her face.

  Ama said nothing, but moved in closer.

  Hela's maw opened and flashed her long, white fangs. "You can't deny what you are, child."

  Her eyes squinted and glared at her mother. "No," she agreed. "I can't."

  She feinted a leap. Hela's arms rose to ward off the attack. She was off balance when Ama's full weight smashed into her chest. Mother and daughter dropped to the ground as sparks flew from their flesh. Ama's talons skated across her skin. Hela shrieked with anger and pain. She kicked out and connected with her daughter's chest. Air exploded from Ama's mouth.

  "You can't kill me," Hela yelled between gulps of air.

  Ama lifted her hands to her mother's face. Hela's claws delivered blow after blow into Ama's chest. Sparks and particles of stone flew with each hit. Ama groaned with pain. She grabbed the top of her mother's jaw in one hand, the lower in the other. Screaming to the sky, she put all her weight on the lower jaw.

  The world split with the sound of shattering stone as the air filled with a cloud of dust. Ama ripped downwards. A gurgling sound erupted from her mother and flecks of blood spattered Ama's face. She looked at the jawbone in her palm. It was riddled with long thin cracks. She growled and closed her hand around it. It dissolved into dust.

  She stood and stared down at her mother's twitching form. Her maw was a raw, bloody hole. Red tears streamed down from one lit eye. The other had turned black and lifeless. The thing that had been her mother choked on its own blood.

  "Monster," Ama whispered. She reached down and clapped her hands. The head exploded and bathed her in blood, brains, and stone. She kicked out with her feet. She stomped on the remains. She didn't stop until there was nothing left but bloody dust.

  17

  Sin was at its peak. The bright sliver of moon sparkled against the desert hardscrabble. Ama's eyes were still focused on the tent. She hadn't moved in quite some time. Scorpions had crawled across her back, licking the moisture away from her body before traveling elsewhere. An adder had done the same.

  The festival was still going strong. The night air rang with drunken revelry and music. The girl's death would likely have little affect on the city's mood, even if the guards had told the crowd.

  Over the last hour, the tent town had grown quiet as its denizens killed their fires and headed off to sleep. She was certain no one had seen her. Still and prone, she might appear as little more than a large rock.

  The tent billowed slightly. Something was moving inside it. Ama didn't dare whisper. She willed something inside to make a sound, any kind of noise. But whatever moved in the tent did so in complete silence.

  Waste of time, Hela tittered. What will you do, little one? Avenge the death of the children?

  Ama didn't answer it.

  Risk yourself for a human because he looks like Yusef?

  She hoped Fadil was still slumbering and safe in her home. What would she say to him when he awoke?

  Why don't you tell him "An Ušumgallu killed your son. I hunted it down and destroyed it. Now you may leave Ur in peace." I imagine that will make him feel better, Hela's voice giggled in her mind.

  Ama caught movement at the tent's edge. Something was traveling on the ground.

  Slithering, she thought. She kept her eyes focused. The thing on the ground lifted the tent's fabric and slid beneath. Ama nodded to herself.

  She heard whispering from inside the tent, but it was too low for her to make out. She carefully crawled forward on her belly. The rasp of her body against the sand was loud in her ears. Ama carefully slipped out of her shawl and rolled to the side. Stone and dirt rubbed into her skin. She ignored the discomfort and continued to crawl.

  The tent entrance billowed out. She froze. Tahira, naked from the waist up, walked out of the entrance. In the moon-lit night, her skin seemed to shine. Her green eyes glowed as she surveyed the desert. Ama mentally flinched when the creature's gaze passed her.

  Tahira didn't seem to notice anything and continued in a slow circle to scan the area. The woman nodded to herself and then walked back inside the tent.

  From within the city walls, she heard the sounds of horns and drums. Another performance was beginning, probably the last of the night. She waited a few beats to make sure Tahira had really re-entered the tent, and then crawled as fast as she dared.

  Ama froze when the music ceased. The sound of applause and cheers were muted and not enough to cover the sound of her approach. It didn't matter, she was close enough now.

  She cocked her head to one side and listened.

  "What is she?" a raspy voice asked.

  "Does it matter?" Tahira replied. "And why couldn't you wait until the city was asleep?"

  "I was hungry."

  The crunch of sandal on dirt caught Ama's ear. Someone was behind her. She rolled as a wooden club smashed into the ground next to her. A pair of yellow eyes stared down at her from an avian face. Its beak clicked together in a brutal snap.

  "Regile, Tahira," the thing chirped.

  Ama rolled again as its taloned leg stamped down next to her. She reached her feet and began to run.

  "Ama! Wait!" Tahira's voice called after her.

/>   Heads poked out of tents as she weaved her way through the maze of dead cooking fires and temporary abodes. Soil kicked up behind her in a cloud. More than once, she heard the sound of the bird-man chirping, although she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

  As she neared the city gates, she whirled around. There was no one there. The tent city was nearly silent.

  "Lost your clothes?"

  She sidestepped as she turned to face the voice, prepared to bring the shadow forward.

  A tall, red haired man stared down at her. In one hand, he held her shawl, in the other, he held a piece of polished olive wood. He stepped back from her, his arm holding out the shawl.

  "I'm not here to harm you," he whispered.

  Ama glared as she snatched the shawl from his fingers. She put the garment over her naked breasts. "Yet, you tried."

  His thin lips parted in a grin. He dropped his arms to his sides. "Do you know what I am?"

  She shrugged. "I know what your friend is: Ušumgallu."

  The man nodded. "Something like that." He gestured to the tent city. "Would you like to join us for a drink? Perhaps talk?"

  Ama shook her head. "He killed a little girl, creature."

  The man sighed. "I'm sure he did. Regile can have terrible timing."

  "Feeding on children is wrong at any time." Ama's index finger melted into a talon. She raised it before her. "What is your name?"

  "Anzaru."

  Ama tapped the long finger against her teeth. "Nephilim."

  The man nodded. "Something like that. And just what are you?" he grinned.

  "You know my name."

  He cocked his head to one side. "Yes, Ama, I do. But you know what I meant."

  "Unimportant. I want the Ušumgallu."

  "That is not wise, Ama. He is our friend. One of us."

  Ama's eyes flashed red. "Then you will leave my city. All of you," she growled. "I protect my herd."

  Anzaru laughed. "Your herd?" His mouth melted into a beak and it clicked bare inches away from her face. "Flock?" he screeched.

  She nodded. "Yes. My flock."

  The beak melted back into flesh. Anzaru's eyes continued to glow. "Perhaps in daylight you'll be more receptive to our offer."