Seven Wonders Book 2: Lost in Babylon by Peter Lerangis Page B

said.
    â€œOh, you think she’s hot too?” Aly said. “Hmm. You and Jack . . .”
    Daria turned to Marco with a smile. “Not hot. Is cool in the morning.”
    I looked at the ground to avoid cracking up.
    â€œWhat do you call this place, Daria?” Aly asked, gesturing around the palace grounds. “Does it have a name?”
    Daria thought a moment. “In language of Sumer people, is Ká-Dingir-rá. In language of Akkad people, is Bab-Ilum. Means great gate of god.”
    â€œBab-Ilum!” Cass said. “Probably where they got the name Babylon. Looc os si taht.”
    â€œCan’t get a word of Babylonic, but it worries me that I’m beginning to understand you,” Marco said.
    We walked briskly past a temple whose walls were pitted, cracked, and choked with weeds. A great wood beam along the roof looked about ready to buckle. “This is— was —palace,” Daria whispered. “King Nabu-Kudurri-Usur. Two.”
    â€œWho?” Marco said.
    â€œNabu-Kudurri-Usur is Aramaic for Nebuchadnezzar,” Aly said. “‘Two’ for ‘the Second.’” She turned back to Daria. “That king lived here?”
    Daria nodded. “He was good. Then more kings—Amel-Marduk, Nergal-Sharu-Usur, La-Abashi-Marduk. All lived in palace. Kings supposed to live in palace. But Nabu-na’id . . . no. Lives in Etemenanki.” Her eyes darted toward Bel-Sharu-Usur uncertainly, and she dropped her voice. “Etemenanki is holy place . . . not king place.”
    Aly shot me a look. I could feel Cass’s and Marco’s eyes too. None of us had expected that statement. I knew her English wasn’t perfect, but the tone was unmistakable. Our friend Daria didn’t seem to like the king very much.
    Any lingering mistrust of her was melting away fast.
    Bel-Sharu-Usur was picking up the pace. We jogged after him, entering a grand tiled walkway, its bricks glazed with blindingly bright blues and golds. Inlaid into the tiles was a procession of fierce lions of smaller gold and yellow bricks, so lifelike that they seemed about to jump out. Bel-Sharu-Usur raised his wobbling eyes to a shining fortress of cobalt blue rising at the end of the processional path. It was topped with castle-like towers, the great protective city wall extended from either side. The trumpeters blew again, nearly blasting my eardrums.
    â€œIshtar!” barked Bel-Sharu-Usur.
    â€œGesundheit,” Marco said, gazing upward.
    â€œIt’s the Ishtar Gate ,” Cass said. “One of the three most famous structures in Ancient Babylon, along with the Hanging Gardens and the Tower of Babel, aka Etemenanki.”
    â€œThank you, Mr. Geography,” Marco said.
    â€œNot bad for someone who thinks he’s lost his memory powers,” Aly said, a smile growing across her face.
    Cass shook his head dismissively. “That was easy stuff. You knew it too, I’ll bet.”
    If we weren’t in a parallel world, I’d be taking a zillion photos. Along with the sculpted lions were other elaborate animals—mostly bulls, but also a hideous-looking creature I’d never seen before. It had a long snout with two horns, the front legs of a lion, rear legs with talons like a raptor, and a tail with scorpion pincers. I ran my hands along it, and the tiles were so sharp they nearly cut my skin.
    Daria winced. “Is mushushu. Good for people of Bab-Ilum. Means youth. Health. Also means . . .” Her voice dropped to a respectful whisper. “. . . Marduk.”
    â€œWhat’s a Marduk?” Marco asked.
    â€œNot what— who ,” Aly said. “It was the name of the Babylonian god.” She turned to Daria. “The mushushu is, like, a symbol of the god? A representation?”
    Daria thought a moment. “Representation . . . one thing meaning another. Yes.”
    â€œIs it a real animal?”