“What happened was quite different. Ereshkigal was shoved off her throne and knocked to the ground; then Nergal was about to cut off her head when the queen invited him to become her spouse. For six days and six nights they coupled without cease. Then Nergal decided to return to heaven. Ereshkigal despaired. She said she had never played and danced as a little girl, knew none of earth’s pleasures. The only pleasure she had had was from Nergal. If she couldn’t go on having it, she threatened to have the dead rise up and devour the living.

“When the Anunnaki saw Nergal back among them again, they were anxious. They knew that order had not been restored; on the contrary, it had been even more deeply disturbed. Ea proposed to Nergal that he go back down to the Underworld. And Nergal obeyed. He reappeared before Ereshkigal, but this time he smiled, slipped the shawl from her neck, and started coupling with her again. From that day on the two were never apart.”

“More than Babylon or Eridu, it was the Underworld that was the Great City. Walking through it, one came across one palace after another. Some said: ‘This is Nergal’s palace, this is Ereshkigal’s.’ But there were others, too, palaces of the minor gods, Hushbisha, Dimpimeku, Ninazimue. There were temples, too, and towers. Darkness was constant, except when Utu, the Sun, made a brief visit to pass judgment. The inhabitants wandered in the dust, dressed in feathers down to their feet, like birds that cannot fly. They ate clay.”

Now it was Sindbad who spoke:

“I, too, once saw a Great City thronged with the dead. I may also have seen its queen. I was part of Emir Musa’s retinue. One among many. We were crossing the desert, a colorful caravan. All of a sudden, along the horizon, an unbroken black line appeared. Everyone saw it. The walls of the City of Brass, forged in a single mold. The nearer we came, the more compact the dark line became. We were waiting to make out the city gates. There were twenty-five, but you couldn’t see any sign of them on the surface. We walked right around the immense city several times, trying to find a way in. In the end, we made long ladders to climb over. The first to try were the baggage carriers. They climbed up and, one after another, stood motionless for a few seconds, never very long, gazing into the city. Then they burst into exasperated laughter and, with that grating sound still hanging in the air, they plunged down below. It happened to every single one, without exception, as though in a ceremony.

“We were horrified, but no one wanted to give up. Walking along the walls, we found a statue in a niche, the statue of a horseman with one hand outstretched. On the hand there was a written sign showing which point of the statue to press to open a gate in the walls. Soon enough we found the broken bodies of our companions. We pressed on into the city.