Miszatu left the weaver's house with a small skip to her step and singing in her heart. As she walked further out into the street and towards the plaza, her pace was slowed by the presence of people up ahead facing her. Two women walked briskly towards her, one dressed modestly in a long olive green Hatti gown with a dark complexion and copper eyes, the other was the woman who had stared at her before, nude but for wearing no more than a gunakku kilt and a small nosering.

"Excuse me, naditu! Are you looking for something in particular?" asked the woman with a western accent.

"Um, I think I am looking for you, actually! Are you..." it was difficult for Miszatu to find the right way to talk about this, "...Are you Ladies of Innana?"

"What are you saying!? Do we look like whores to you!?" angrily barked the girl with the nosering.

Miszatu didn't realize how offensive the question had been. "Oh... uh... well, no, I don't know if that means-"

"Oh, Child of Nanshe, do not take my sister seriously! She was only kidding! Of course we are whores! What can we help you with?" interceded the woman in the Hatti clothing.

"Just for the record, I am deeply offended." interrupted the one with the nosering. The other woman smacked her tits with the tips of her fingers. Miszatu was distracted for a moment, and then shame came over her for the lingering of her eyes.

"I am in this district looking for someone in particular. I was wondering if the Ladies of Ninanna could help me? I am looking for any woman or parent who is missing a little boy." Miszatu explained.

The woman with the coastal tinge to her voice stroked her chin. "That sounds to me like Adad-Duri. She's been missing her boy Ninurta-Ibni a few nights now. Hasn't been on the rounds, she wants to be waiting at home if he comes back, and ain't none of us are going to judge her for that."

The barebreasted woman buried her face in her palms. "How terrible if her boy is truly lost! What such tidings of the boy do you bring, O Naditu sha Nanshe?" she asked.

"Terrible tidings, I must confess. This morning Bel Nawirnushu found the body of a young boy floating in the river downstream of this district. The palace has tasked me with finding the child's family." Miszatu explained.

"How dreadful! Lady have mercy!" the woman with the nosering pronounced. The coarseness of her initial demeanor replaced with an equally outspoken, yet genuine sincerity.

"The lady's love to Adad-Duri! It is a terrible thing to lose a child." declared the woman in the Hatti gown.

"Do you know where I might find this Adad-Duri?" Miszatu asked.

"She lives in a neighborhood just northwest of here. There's a courtyard with a strangely planted palm tree which announces its entrance." Explained the western woman.

"I'm sorry, but what is your name?" again intruded the woman with the nosering.

"My name is Miszatu. I am a naditu at the E-sirara, but I am here conducting an investigation for the palace." she explained. "Mostly I just want to find whoever would hurt a child in this city and make sure they are brought to justice."

"Ah, it is good to meet you, Miszatu. I am Ninanna-Sharra," the woman in the green gown introduced herself, "and my friend is-"

"I am Lurindu." explained the voluptuous woman whose breasts she could not stop staring at.

Ninanna-Sharra took my hand and placed my palm on her heart. "O Miszatu, It is good to know that the Ladies of the E-Sirara still care for their neighbors. Our Ladies are sisters, and so too should we be sisters!"

"Thank you, Ahaatu." Miszatu said, smiling. "I am sorry for my indirectness, but I am unsure how to approach those with vows so different from my own."

"We understand, that's why we followed you out of the main street." Said Lurindu.

"If it is too informal to speak to whores in the street, surely noone would frown upon a visit to the E-anna. Woe if our ladies would not smile upon our friendship!" asserted Ninanna-Sharra.

"It is good to hear, my new friends! You are also more than welcome to a meal at the E-Sirara if you ever find yourselves in the old city." Miszatu reciprocated.

"A caution, Miszatu:" pronounced Ninanna-Sharra. "In my experience there can be no notions of justice upon the death of a child. It is always but a sorrow, and little more."

Miszatu believed she understood. 'How many children must die in these slums by the moon? What justice could they ever expect?' She lamented.

"I understand. I will speak to Adad-Duri with utmost care for her heart. It pains me if I must bring her such bad tidings." She affirmed.

"Best of luck! Tell Adad-Duri she has our love when she is ready to see us!" Ninanna-Sharra offered.

"Follow the rainbow!" shouted Lurindu, laughing as they walked away, an appeal to trust in the goodwill of their mistress.

Mizatu took her leave and kept marching deeper and deeper into the dilapidated alleys of the E-anna district's periphery. As she continued to drive deeper into the city, She could scarcely see any more workhouses or public buildings. The architecture of the city changed into monotonous wall after wall of the large and closed off neighborhoods and courtyards which constituted the closest thing to safe housing for most of the waradu and mushkennu in the city. The apartments did not look especially happy or inviting, and Miszatu continued to see more beggars and prostitutes looming in the walkways, looking to get by just one more night. The sun was setting fast, and long shadows began to assert their dominion over the streets.

After walking until she could not, Miszatu finally saw the landmark she was looking for. A courtyard marked by a palm tree at its entrance. This must have been the walled complex where Adad-Duri lived.

She entered the block's dusty threshold. No plants grew within it, but a child's ball sat ominously in the field of sand. The first house in the courtyard was two stories, and larger than the smaller apartments laid as one-room cells around the square. This must have been the mushkennu landlord's residence. Miszatu was prepared to knock on the front door, but three young boys, none older than twelve, sat in a row at the edge of their yard, sifting the sand through their toes and carelessly knocking each others' kneecaps. 'If anybody was going to know about a missing friend, it would be them!' she reasoned.

Miszatu approached the boys. "Aaluu Maruu! Anaku naditu sha Nanshe. I am looking for a woman around here named Adad-Duri. Do you know where she is?"

The boy at the end, whose mouth was full of dates, pointed frantically to the furthest house down.

"Ahh, thank you! I just wanted to ask, does Adad-Duri have a son?" she asked.

"Yeah! Ningirsu-Ibni! We haven't seen him for a few days though." The boy in the middle said.

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"He's got to come back! Our teams are so unfair without him!" The little boy at the end whined.

"Shut up, you dumb baby! When we're grown up and fighting the Kassu do you think it's going to matter how the teams are balanced!" the boy in the middle barked.

The boy started to cry. "I miss Ningirsu-Ibni!"

Miszatu patted the boy on the head, trying to suppress her own distress at the truth. "I will be sure to tell him that if I see him." She said to the littlest boy. Shooting him a soft smile. "Thank you for the directions!"

"Be nice to Adad-Duri! Daddy's always complaining that she never makes rent, but she seems like a nice lady!" called the one in the middle.

"I will!" she called back.

At the far end of the complex, next to similarly compact residences, stood a small mudbrick shack. It looked about the size of the single square cubit plot which the Houri women were tending. Miszatu was incredulous. 'A whole family is supposed to live in this dwelling? My personal apartment is three times this size!'

Miszatu knocked on the door to the shack lightly. There was no answer. She did so again, and then she heard something inside shift around.

A young woman wearing a black shawl opened the door, she looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, around Miszatu's own age. Heavy banks of smudged kohl had formed beneath her eyes. Her hair was frazzled and unwashed.

"Excuse me, are you Adad-Duri?" Miszatu asked.

"...Yes ...who are you?" She answered.

"My name is Miszatu. I am a naditu of the goddess Nanshe at the E-Sirara in the old city. Would you mind if I came in?"

"Why... are you here?" she asked.

"Could I come in?" Miszatu asked again.

"It's about Ningirsu-Ibni, isn't it?" the young woman pressed.

Miszatu paused. She searched in vain for the right words to speak next.

She tried to put on a comforting smile, but she knew in the moment that it only came off as troubling and insincere. "Could I come in?"

Adad-Duri's face erupted into tears, she flung herself onto Miszatu's shoulder with such force that she nearly keeled over. She sobbed heavy into the wool of Miszatu's gunakku gown, and Miszatu could not help but embrace her and comfort her with her touch. Across the field, Miszatu saw the three boys watch, and seeing Adad-Duri's state, they slowly got up and went inside their home. She supposed even a child could guess what had happened to Ningirsu-Ibni.

After giving the grieving mother a chance to catch her breath, Miszatu interrupted her mourning. "Please, Adad-Duri. We should speak inside."

It took a few moments for Adad-Duri to calm down, and Miszatu waited patiently for her to lead the way into her home. She opened the door and crouched her head underneath the door frame. Miszatu did the same.

Miszatu saw plainly that the home in which Adad-Duri lived and had tried to raise her boy was no more than a storage closet, hardly fit for a sheepdog let alone a mother and her son. 'Even I almost had to crouch beneath the ceiling!' In the center of the room sat a bronze brazier hearth. Beside the hearth was splayed blankets of goatskin and cheap pillows, Ningirsu-ibni's toys were strewn across the room.

Miszatu knelt down with Adad-Duri on her bedding. Now that they were in private, Adad-Duri's expression was again choked by tears. "What happened?" She asked.

"Awilatiya, I do not know if the news which I will bring you relates to you directly, or whether it is an unpleasant similarity, but the body of a boy, about the age of your son, was found by King Nawirnushu in the canal."

Adad-Duri heaved tears after the naditu's statement.

Miszatu tried to console her. "I am only here to investigate. It may not be Ningirsu-Ibni, you may not be the only woman missing a child."

"No, I know that it is him!" the mother pronounced tearfully. "Ziqiqu showed me his fate in my dreams last night. I was foolish to have hoped things were otherwise!" showering her dirt floor in salt water.

"My lady, I am an initiated hayyadu. Tell me about this dream! I implore you!"

"I was there. I was on the shore. It was the canal, but it was not the canal, you know? It was the same waters of the Purattu, but it was not in the city. The whole earth was covered in a thick fog and a grey sky, just like the city in the early morning when it's been rainy. It was not these things though, for the waters were the waters of the netherworld. There was a boat, a large black ark, and it was docked in the harbor. I watched in terror as my son walked onto the barge in chains! I cried as my son boarded the ship! I wailed as the gangplank withdrew! I wept as the ship departed! I lost all hope when the black ship vanished on the horizon! I knew that my boy was lost. I could feel his anguish in the netherworld, never having tasted of any sweetness in life."

"I see." Miszatu did not know what to say. The gods were clear. "When did you last see Ningirsu-Ibni?"

"He was gone when I woke up early this morning, before Shamash had made his ascent. The last time I saw him was after I had put him to bed."

"So he went missing while you slept?"

The answer elicited such regret in Adad-Duri's heart that she buried her face in her hands. "Yes! That's right!" She cried tearfully into her palms.

"Do you have any idea where he might of gone?"

"No... he just wasn't in his bed when I awoke."

Miszatu looked around the room. She could not imagine that anything could be concealed from her eyes in such a small space. She looked to the wall opposite the courtyard entrance, and it consisted of another entrance and a shuttered window.

"Do you sleep with that window open?"

"On hot summer nights like this, yes. I shuttered it just to give myself some privacy." Adad-Duri explained.

"Could Ningirsu-Ibni have wandered out into the street?"

"I don't know." shrugged the mother in a flood of tears. Adad-Duri could barely breathe. "He- He- He was always telling me about things he saw. He would always tell stories about how he would meet gods and spirits everywhere we went. Sometimes it would bother me, but it did not ever seem to bring him distress. Yesterday, the way he would normally speak of such, he claimed he met a new friend at the market. I- I- I didn't think anything of it at all! I... I wasn't even paying attention!" she declared, tearing off into heavy breathing.

"O, awilatiya, I know you are so troubled, but you must rest! You may be jumping to conclusions! If your son is still alive he will need your strength!" Miszatu said to her softly, supporting her shoulder. "You should rest. Would you mind if I take a look around?"

Adad-Duri could no longer speak, but she nodded and whimpered her permission.

The naditu still could not believe a family was expected to live like this. 'Most slaves live in more healthy and agreeable conditions! Any boy growing here would turn into a hunchback as a man! My supervisor will hear of this!'

Miszatu inspected Ningirsu-Ibni's toys which lay strewn around the room: a ball, a wooden playing sword, a soldier figurine with a little model chariot and horses to ride. Yet, for all the shoddy carpentry and cheap materials, kindling to be enchanted by a child's heart, one toy seemed out of place.

It was a figurine of a man molded out of clay, but very delicately. The detailed features of the figurine's soft face were more befitting of a cult statue than a child's toy. It was not painted, but it wore a miniature set of clothing which was wrapped around it tightly. The color of the outfit which the doll wore was dyed an extraordinary deep crimson, and its material was a smooth clay. Astonishingly the figurine also wore a little crown, a conical seashell smoothed into a helmet. 'Where would Ningirsu-Ibni have found seashells in Kharani?' she wondered.

It was impossible for Miszatu to deny, having attended his court personally, that the figurine was designed in the exact likeness of the regalia of Kharani's king. In fact, having been in his presence, she knew it was unmistakably a simulacrum of Shakkunakku Nawirnushu himself. Most alarming of all were the sharp copper nails which impaled the doll's body.

"When did you first see this one?" Miszatu asked, raising the doll up to Adad-Duri.

"I... I found it this morning among Adad-Duri's other toys. One of the other boys must have given it to him. The wooden figures all come from the donations of an old client who knew woodwork, but I hadn't noticed that clay one. Strange since it stands out so much."

"Did you notice the nails and needles sticking out of it?"

"I thought it was just the aftermath of boys playing war."

Miszatu looked over the figurine again silently. It didn't feel right.

"Do you mind if I take this with me? I want to know where your boy got this, if it appeared as he disappeared."

"Of course, my lady." whimpered Adad-Duri, again on the verge of another break down.

Miszatu softly embraced Adad-Duri by the cheeks to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around her back and squeezed. "My lady, this I shall arrange for you: tomorrow you must come to the royal palace and ask to speak to the king's baru advisor, Asqudum. Tell him everything that you have told me! He will bring you to identify if the body is that of your son, ay Zumun make it not so! In any case, I would afterward have you take up residence free of rent at the Bit Naditu, whether your boy survives or not, you need to be taken care of in your time of need, ahatiya!"

Adad-Duri again choked up. "N- no awilatu has ever been this nice to me." she sobbed. "I- I- I just wish that- -I just wish that it weren't because I lost my boy." she lamented. She held her tight as she collapsed again, easing and calming her to lie on her bed. "I just want to bury him here. I just want to bring him home."

"Just remember what I have said, come to the palace at noon tomorrow!" Miszatu implored.

"I will, awilatiya." The mother confirmed, tears flooding from her eyes.

"May the lady Nanshe relieve you. May the lady bring Ningirsu-Ibni protection, wherever he is right now." The naditu blessed her.

"Thank you so much, sister Miszatu. Take care on the path home."

"I will." she promised, as she left the poor mother's home.

As Miszatu began to return to the Bit Naditu, the wind picked up, and she shivered as much at the chilling breeze as the thought that such a vulnerable person's gods would turn the other way.