Two weeks later (Wednesday, February 23, 2022) Aqrabuamelu compound, Flushing, Queens, New York, United States

The High Priestess tried to see the drow standing in front of her. She knew he was there, but it was so hard to focus on him. She could see the room and the ceiling. She looked down to where her hands tried to stop the bleeding, but it kept welling around her hands - sticky and red.

“Fuck you and your matriarch!”

“Tssk. Whatever happened to Belatsunat the Poet? The ages have coarsened your language. God will be displeased.” She was able to focus on him while he spoke, his ashen skin, sharp cheekbones, and all-black canted eyes coming into focus. The drow, like their elven progenitors, were ectomorphs taken to the extreme, almost gaunt and so very tall.

“Do you remember when you crushed the Emperor’s own Al’tal clan? You stood before Him and declaimed four lines, and the He was so moved.” The drow’s expressionless voice felt so distant, but there was just the slightest hint of nostalgia and awe to one who knew them. And the High Priestess had known many drow in service to the emperor. “Hmmm. The poem was so much better in Na’teth, but the Emperor has commanded us to use these humans languages. I am His blade and always obey.” His ritual cant was the only part with emotion.

The High Priestess could feel the sticky wetness welling and dripping down her robes. She tried to change form to die as her true self, as an Aqrabuamelu, but the drow’s knife had taken that magic from her. She could see it glow in that sickly orange light.

“Ah I’ve got it:

I beheld majesty / In the trees reaching up / Crimson ground, Tyrian sky / Genuflect before god

“It took me a while to translate into English. Anapest dimeter is the best I could manage. Maybe I should have used ‘porphyry’ instead of Tyrian sky - but it breaks the allusion.” His voice was impassive, almost academic, as he contemplated his translation.

Belatsunat would have laughed at the crudeness of the translation. The High Priestess, she was still that for a while longer, could not. Why couldn’t she remember what this drow looked like?

“Where is the girl? God commands my blade.”

The orange light intensified and the High Priestess found herself about to tell the drow where the Beloved Innana resided. She regained control of herself for one moment more and bit down hard. Blood began to pour from her mouth, and she spit out the macerated piece of her tongue. She tried to spit the blood and tissue at the drow, the venomous blood her last chance as her vision faded, but the indistinct figure in front of her vanished and the drow appeared several feet behind where he had been.

“Goodnight Belatsunat, God misses your poems still” he said, and faded into the shadows.

Zaidu woke them earlier than normal, Ella saw it was only four and she had only been asleep for a few hours after training with Bahu. As she had become more efficient in her movements, they had begun weapons training longer and longer, less time in the baths.

She still managed to hop out of bed and line up at attention and then cursed that she had left some of her clean up for the morning, Zaidu would notice.

She was almost more concerned when he didn’t punish her for her sloppy kit sitting next to her bed. He was subdued and quiet while he waited for them to come to order. Then she noticed the two guards at the door, fully armored and armed.

“Get dressed. Assassin. Full armor.” His normal hissing voice trembled a bit

Ella caught herself holding her breath.

“NOW!” he growled.

They all scrambled. Ella stripped down entirely and started from the beginning. She put on her support leggings and top. Socks, pants, and nylon belt. Boots next. Jacket.

Zaidu looked dressed for war. She cursed - she had stripped down her vest the night before to clean it. So first, she fed the plates, and thought for a moment and then loaded in two rifle mags. She grabbed a chem light and stuck it in a front pocket.

Slide in the medical pouch. A couple of utility pouches and a rifle retention loop and carabiner. She started to add flotation, but Zaidu barked at her to skip it. Ok then, medical pouch and tourniquet.

War belt was set up but she ran through it anyway - she checked her sidearm, loaded it and checked it again. She was sweating a bit. Loaded two pistol mags and a third rifle mag and almost dropped one. Second tourniquet kit and blowout kit. A small fixed knife and multitool. Some empty pouches.

Then she strapped on her ceremonial knife sheath. And went back to her vest and put on the two sheaths for her sword staff which she now kept in two pieces.

Putting it all on felt ridiculous. And then Zaidu told them to put on helmets and he handed her a night vision headset.

“Usually you maggots would have to pretend to wear night vision when you are serving with the vermin. But the only vermin in here knows what you are, so skip it.”

Never change Zaidu, thought Ella.

He then handed each of them two flashbangs.

“Today, the High Priestess was assassinated by one of Utu’s drow assassins.” Ella was stunned. That poor woman. “Etana, brief us on the drow…”

“Created by Utu from the elves, the drow serve as spies and assassins. Matriarchs rule their clans and act as Utu’s priests. Crepuscular cycle. Stringent religious programming was found to hamper creativity, thus Utu-on-Earth provided the Aqramuabelu with a more complex theology.” Etana rasped from memory.

“When you refer to that scum sucking bastard, you will make sure everyone knows it!” Zaidu barked, “Now continue.”

“That motherfucker Utu gave them ways of avoiding attention which is unknown to us. They are famous for their daggers which have glowing orange runic markings on them and some ceremonial significance.”

“Is that all?” Zaidu yelled.

“Yes sir.” Etana kept a steady gaze ahead. His rasping voice firm.

“Well, those pricks just killed out High Priestess.” Zaidu’s voice cracked on the last. “And now that Fotze is somewhere in our home. We are going to flush him out.”

Ella looked incredulously at Zaidu. She couldn’t help it… “Us sir? We haven’t trained in team tactics for more than a week.”

“This is training. The enemy never sleeps. And if we kill a drow, then all the better.” he hissed.

They followed Zaidu out the door and he immediately had them go silent. The halls were brightly lit from every direction, almost painfully so. He began flashing them hand signals immediately which Ella barely knew.

They then proceeded into the hallways: peeking around corners, providing cover for movement - corner after corner, hallway after hallway. Silently. Ella tried to keep track of their route, but this maze just kept getting larger and deeper. At the point she thought she heard a subway train go by, right where the tunnel lights weren’t available anymore and she put on her goggles. The night vision was aggravating and ruined her peripheral vision. Eventually she shut it off and just flared her eyes behind the goggles.

Of course Zaidu put her on point the whole time. Probably hoping she would get her throat slit. So Ella was the first to sense something ahead. She held up a fist and everyone stopped. She pointed to Tauthe, patted her head, and then pointed to herself. Then she slung her rifle and pulled her sidearm and thought about whether she should have a flashbang ready but decided against it.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her side, the helmet strap dug uncomfortably. She quietly crept up to the lump on the ground and saw it was a body, an Aqramuabelu in its half-scorpion form. Dead and slumped over.

She examined around the body but the dust in this hallway was otherwise undisturbed. She had Tauthe move up to cover the next corner and signalled back to have Zaidu move up.

“You didn’t tell me the signal for an Aqrabuamelu.”

Zaidu held his hand up, level with his head, palm down with his fingers wiggling like legs. Ella gave him a thumbs up and let him signal the others while she went up to support Tauthe. After they checked the area, Zaidu called in the kill and soon the hallway was crawling with scorpion soldiers.

“Go to your quarters,” he hissed. His voice short with impatience as he regarded the dead body. “Maintain a combat posture until you have confirmed your barracks are empty, and you have sealed yourself in.”

Ella and the team made their way back, following the same fastidious approach as before. Without Zaidu, Davcina took point.

Despite the hours of exhausting work, when they got back they searched everything no matter how unlikely a hiding spot and then relaxed. They all kept their sidearms and had their gear ready to go.

Ella tried something new and cast a small spell across the doorway, a tenuous thread of connection linked to her.