Exploring 26-2018

    When the swirling golden sands died down, the three Tokotas found themselves in a very different time and place. The vortex had deposited them on a terrace of white marble, overlooking a vast inland lake that sparkled a clear blue in the high sun. Potted plants, curling vines, and fragrant flowers dripped from rounded marble vessels and boxes. A gentle breeze blew the flower’s perfume across the water, something all three Tokotas were grateful for. Fat bees buzzed languidly from one open bloom to the next, their hums a soothing song.

    Shaking her head to clear it, Lakka was the first to step forward. Putting her forepaws on a nearby bench, she raised herself up and gazed out over the water. There were two buildings opposite the terrace, both constructed of the same flawless white marble. The one to the left was a great rounded tower that strove to pierce the fluffy clouds. It was made up of two dozen or more levels, each concentric ring smaller than the one below it. To the right of it was a great terraced structure with sweeping arches and broad columns. Staircases, both broad and small, connected the different levels. Plants dominated this building—everywhere from the wide terraces to the stairs, from broad walkways to between the intricately-carved columns. Flowers spilled out in riotous colors, vines as thick as a human arm wrapped around the columns; great trees grew next to the stairs, the tops of which reached two or three floors up. Humans in brightly-colored robes walked leisurely among the terraces, accompanied by what appeared to be large dogs—and something else …

    “Oh, gods,” Lakka breathed, mouth hanging open.

    A violent sneeze behind the greying sable tawny Tokota female had her jumping backwards, off the bench. Stumbling, Lakka caught her balance and turned to see Abel rubbing his nose against the inside of his right foreleg. All thought of what she had seen were chased away in that jarring moment.

    “Sorry,” Abel mumbled. “The scent here is overwhelming.”

    As if on cue, the breeze shifted again, bringing the heady perfume further out over the lake. Lakka chuckled softly as the brown piebald male sneezed again. His pack nephew, Brynjar, stood on tip-toe, paws hanging over the edge of a flower box. Head resting on his paws, Brynjar stared out over the glistening waters.

    Coughing low, Abel lifted his head. His blue eyes were watery. “Where the hell are we?”

    Lakka looked over her shoulder at the massive terraced gardens. She had an inkling of where and when they were. She opened her mouth, but was cut off by a deep male voice.

    “You are in Babylon, my friends.” These words were punctuated by a soft, almost bovine, snort.

    The three Tokotas whirled around, hackles up, lips pulled back from massive fangs. Behind them was an arched doorway carved with scenes of gods dancing and battling monsters. Out of the velvet darkness emerged a man’s head—but larger than any normal human’s ought to be. His skin was a golden brown, the features refined. Two piercing blue eyes studied the three Tokotas; faint crow’s feet marked the edge of each eye, which were creased in good humor. A neat and trim black beard fell in artful ringlets down his face. But that wasn’t the most remarkable thing about this massive man—no, it wasn’t the fact that he had bull’s ears, or a set of sweeping horns that nearly wrapped around his forehead.

    No, this was no man at all.

    Soft clip-clops of hooves brought the rest of the stranger into view. Standing as tall as a Tokota, this creature had the giant, muscled body of a black bull. There was a spot of white on one hind leg, as well as on the chest. Huge black wings, flecked with white on the edges of the pinions, were folded against his sides. The only human part of the creature was his head, which sat squarely on the bull’s shoulders, supported by a thick, muscular neck. Tight ringlets of black hair spilled down the creature’s back.

    Lakka felt herself tremble and she pressed up against Abel’s pied flank. Brynjar stuck his head under her right armpit, nose shoved into the short fur of her chest. He quaked as if severely chilled and tried to crawl all the way under her body.

    The creature chuckled, his coiled ringlets swaying. “At peace, travelers. I have been waiting for you.”

    He … what? Lakka thought, even her mental voice shaking.

    Abel found his voice first. “What do you mean? Who are you? What are you?” It was odd to hear the normally boisterous brown piebald sound so thin and uneasy.

    The creature smiled, just as a human would. He remained just outside of the archway, so they could see every solid inch of his chimaeric body. “My name is Agum; I am a lamassu. We are protectors of the royal line, as well as guardians.”

    “You,” Lakka breathed. “It was your kind I saw across the water.”

    Agum lifted his head to see beyond the Tokotas. “Ah, the Hanging Gardens. Yes, my kind also guard that place.”

    “Are you guarding against us?” Abel growled, the strength returning to his voice.

    Agum tilted his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound that was just what Lakka expected a bull would laugh. “My stars, no. As I said, I’ve been waiting for you.”

    “Oh?” Lakka pressed softly. Although she was a Tokota and one of the largest predators in modern times, she felt like a fly under this beast’s gaze. His sheer otherness was overwhelming.

    Beneath her, Brynjar shifted. The young grey male slowly pulled himself out from under her greying sable tawny belly. He stared at the lamassu with huge, round eyes.

    Agum smiled gently. “Those who travel through the sands of time are well-known to the gods. Your coming was passed to us by the Wolf of the Nile, He who is called the Opener of Ways.”

    “Wepwawet?” Brynjar squeaked at Lakka’s side. The greying sable tawny female shouldered him gently.

    “Precisely!” Agum agreed, a smile splitting his human features. Thank the gods, Lakka thought, he had human teeth. If he had fangs …

    “I have been chosen among my brethren to guide you through your time here,” Agum continued mildly. “The Gardens are vast, so we must move quickly if you are to see all of it.”

    “That is awfully kind of you,” Lakka murmured, feeling her heartbeat finally slow to a normal pace.

    Abel eyed the lamassu more suspiciously. “How can we trust you?”

    Agum nodded. “A wise question. One I cannot answer for you. You must make that decision for yourself.”

    Abel exchanged a look with Lakka; the greying sable tawny female merely shrugged. She had no reservations about the lamassu. She trusted her gut in these instances, and her gut hadn’t led her wrong yet. “What do you think, Bryn?” Abel asked his pack nephew.

    Lakka looked down at the young grey male. Brynjar lifted his head and studied the man-faced winged bull. “If Miss Lakka saw them down there and they weren’t harming any humans … I think he can be trusted.”

    “I think that’s your answer,” Lakka murmured to Abel.

    Slowly, the brown piebald nodded. Agum inclined his head regally, the high sun gleaming off of his well-groomed black hide and hair. “Then, treasured guests from beyond time, follow me.”