Tabeya's cool pillow pressed against her cheek. The midday heat sent her mind floating between this realm and the one of dreams. She had slipped into a light sleep when the wall opened.

Ishtar stepped out of the black space beyond, her golden fur gleaming. She padded over to the bed and nudged Tabeya's hand with her nose.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Tabeya sat up and threw her comforter off.

Her fatigue receded to the background of her consciousness. Her mind became alert as if doused in cold water. Today, she was going exploring.

She swung her legs out of bed, fastened her sandals and followed the lioness to the opening in the wall.

Darkness enveloped them as it sealed closed. As always, the oil lamps on either side of the passage flickered to life, one by one.

Tabeya's hand rested on Ishtar's neck as they descended the stairs. The lioness's muscles rippled against her fingers. She was breathless by the time they reached the bottom of the staircase.

It was only the knowledge of what awaited her that kept her moving when she felt certain her chest would collapse in on itself.

Ishtar touched her paw to the mudbricks. The wall opened into the throne room.

Even in shambles, it took Tabeya's breath away. She could spend hours dancing in the centre of the massive room like a performer invited to entertain the King and Queen. She loved sitting at the foot of the thrones, letting her mind travel to the past.

She could imagine servants striding through the tall doorway at the far end of the room, bearing trays of dates and juicy, sliced fruits. She could picture the pretty, scantily clad concubines sitting in a group near the arched window overlooking the river, waiting to be beckoned. She could see the brightness, the life, the colours.

Ishtar rumbled, and Tabeya's fantasy peeled away, revealing the crumbling ruins for what they were.

Age had marred the goddesses and kings carved on the cracked walls. One of the thrones had collapsed during the battle or in the centuries of neglect that had followed. The tiles decorating the floor had cracked and faded.

Time had dilapidated this place, but its former splendour haunted it like the ghosts of those who had breathed their last behind these pillars.

Ishtar bounded towards the overgrown palace gardens, Tabeya trailing after her.

Tabeya was often tempted to tend to it, to feel the earth at her fingers and hold life in her hands, but she couldn't. Nungal missed nothing, and the last thing Tabeya wanted to do was betray the fact that she had a way out of her tower.

She and Ishtar followed the path around the palace and entered the east wing. Tabeya glanced up to see leaves climbing over the terrace above.

The lioness had brought Tabeya to the hanging gardens, her favourite part of the palace.

The gardens were lush and green all year round despite the heat, which was blistering in summer and only a bit milder in winter. The fragrance of the pomegranate trees wrapped Tabeya in its sweet embrace. She followed Ishtar up to the first level of the hanging gardens.

Date palms stretched into the sky, casting feathery shadows on the grass. A bird perched on a branch overhead whistled a cheerful tune. Tabeya looked up, a smile spreading over her face.

This was why she loved being outside. One never knew what one would find.

It could be a chirping bird, a rose at the peak of its glory or a ripe apricot just within reach. They were all equally lovely. When Tabeya was outside, she was surrounded by possibilities. She almost felt free.

Almost.

Ishtar raced towards the rectangular pond that spanned the garden. She propped herself up on the stone edge, and the butterfly she had been hunting, which had been too small for Tabeya to see across the garden, fled in a flutter of vivid blue.

"You'll have better luck next time." Tabeya settled beside Ishtar, stroking her head.

Together, they stared into the pond. As different as they looked, Tabeya knew that they were far more similar.

They both lived for exploring. They both loved the hanging gardens and dozing in the sunshine. Tabeya would've had a much lonelier childhood if it hadn't been for Ishtar. She draped her arm over the lioness's shoulders and laughed as Ishtar nuzzled her.

Tabeya's gaze returned to their reflections. She looked beyond, into the depths of the pond. The water plants swirled to a silent rhythm. Pebbles lay along the bottom of the pond, but no fish darted about. Tabeya always looked them, even though she never found any.

She stood, marvelling at the pristine nature of the hanging gardens. It was the only part of the palace to escape the bloody battle that ravaged the city, and the only place where Tabeya could escape her restless thoughts.

She followed the path to a wall carved with symbols. The central figure was that of Assur, the chief god, enclosed in a circle suspended from wings. One of his hands reached out to bless his worshippers, while the other held a bow.

Tabeya inclined her head in prayer. She gave thanks for everything she had and asked for the one thing she didn't.

It had been almost two weeks since her birthday, and she hadn't stopped thinking about her wish. She awoke each morning with the hope that this would be the day. Nothing had changed yet, but she wouldn't stop believing.

Ishtar nudged her with her head.

"It is rather hot, isn't it?" Tabeya gazed around for refuge from the sun's relentless rays.

The lioness flicked her tail as she led the way to a shady spot. Tabeya stretched out on her back, savouring the coolness of the grass against her arms. Patches of cerulean sky peeked out at her from between the leaves. Her eyes closed.

It felt like moments later that Ishtar growled, but when Tabeya opened her eyes, the sky was pale blue, and the clouds were rimmed in orange.

"What's wrong?" Tabeya sat up.

She couldn't translate the snarl Ishtar gave in answer.

She frowned, scanning the shadows. Her heart nearly stopped when a figure stepped out four pillars away, his back to them.

It was a man, judging from his build and clothing; a soldier, judging from the spear strapped to his back.

"Ishtar, no!"

Tabeya's cry came too late. The lioness was already racing towards the stranger.

The man turned, eyes wide, in time for Ishtar to knock him to the ground. He fell with a cry.

"Ishtar, stop!" Tabeya broke into a sprint, but the lioness was too fast.

Ishtar pinned the man down with her paws and snarled, her teeth barely an inch away from his nose.

"Ishtar! Ishtar, let him go!" Breathless, Tabeya caught up to the rogue lioness. She tried to pull her away from the intruder.

Ishtar surrendered, though Tabeya suspected it had more to do with her own will than Tabeya's strength. Ishtar stayed at Tabeya's side, her teeth bared.

Tabeya helped the man to his feet as he muttered something about Amaluans under his breath. He met Tabeya's eyes. In that moment, her world shifted.

He was definitely a man.

A real, living, breathing man stood in Tabeya's hanging gardens.

This man didn't look like the ones Tabeya had seen carved on the walls.

His beard wasn't long and bushy, just a shadow along his jaw. His dark hair curled over his forehead instead of falling over his shoulders. He was bigger than the carved men and about a head taller than Tabeya was. He wore a loose-fitting tunic, but it didn't hide his broad shoulders or his muscled arms.

There was a sword at his waist and a spear on his back, but he didn't reach for either. Nungal had told Tabeya terrible things about men, but this one didn't seem bad.

Tabeya had so many questions for him. She settled for the one that seemed most pertinent.

"Are you okay?"

Confusion flashed across his face. "Yes. Thank you." He stumbled over his words as if he had last used them long ago.

Tabeya's language was not his first language.

He continued to stare at her. "Who are you?"

Tabeya brushed a stray lock of her wavy hair behind her ear. "My name is Tabeya. I live here."

"In the palace ruins?"

"Yes. Right over there." Tabeya pointed to her tower.

She shouldn't be telling a stranger where she lived. She lowered her hand, but the man was already looking in the direction she had indicated.

"I see."

"Who are you?" Tabeya studied his face.

He was young, maybe a few years older than she was. There was something fierce about his dark eyes. They were hardened by loss and pain.

"I am Humban. I was just passing through." His eyes flitted between Tabeya and the lioness that stood at her side, waiting for the slightest signal to pounce.

"And you somehow found yourself in my hanging gardens at the centre of a dead city?" Tabeya's tone made it clear that she didn't believe Humban.

The look he gave her made it clear that he didn't trust her. "You set your pet lion on me."

Tabeya narrowed her eyes. How dare this stranger trespass into her home and accuse her of trying to hurt him?

"Ishtar isn't my pet. She's my companion." Tabeya put a protective hand on the lioness's head. "I'm sorry that she attacked you. If you didn't notice, I tried to stop her."

Humban's face softened, but the wariness didn't leave his eyes. "Do you live here alone? Except for your companion."

"Yes."

Tabeya's language flowed smoother from Humban the more they spoke. It was only his accent that betrayed that he was a foreigner.

"No parents? No family?"

Tabeya shook her head. "But I have a guardian, Nungal."

"Nungal?" Humban's eyes widened.

"That's what I said." Tabeya frowned.

Why did he seem afraid of the name?

He stared at her, his expression unreadable, before looking from her to Ishtar. "What did you say your lioness's name was?"

"Ishtar."

Humban's eyes bulged. Tabeya fought the urge to smile. Nungal had said men were wicked and violent, but this one seemed like fun.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Eighteen."

"How long have you been eighteen?"

"Two weeks." Tabeya folded her arms over her chest. "Why all the questions?"

"I wanted to be sure that you're... mortal."