Word Fulfilled, The by Bruce Judisch Page B

Ishtar.”
    Myriad thoughts raced through Hani’s mind, and none of them comforted her. “I still don’t understand. Please come in. I have questions—”
    “I can’t. I really can’t.” Suhru turned to go.
    “No, please. You must tell me. I don’t understand the temple rites. I never wanted Ianna to go there in the first place. It’s just not right, the ceremony.”
    The girl reddened. “I must go.”
    Hani reached out and grasped the bundle. She pulled Suhru to her as the floodgates that restrained her anxiety burst open. Fears bottled up in her for months found their voice and tumbled out over each other.
    “Please, you must tell me. What has happened to Ianna? Why has she not come home? I’ve tried to inquire at the temple, but no one will let me see her. She’s been gone for months. Is this normal? Shouldn’t she have been back by now? How long were you there? What are they doing with her? Is she well? She’s not sick, is she?”
    The girl tried to pull loose from Hani’s grip. “I shouldn’t have come here. We can’t talk about what goes on in the temple.”
    “Suhru . . . please?”   Hani’s eyes brimmed. She stroked the girl’s arm in desperation. “She’s my only daughter. My only child.”
    Suhru eased her struggle to pull free. She glanced both ways along the street. “Maybe I could come in for just a moment. I should not be seen talking—”
    “Yes, please.” Hani pulled the startled girl through the door. “I have some herbal tea I can make—”
    “No. No, thank you. I really can’t stay.” Suhru fidgeted and glanced back at the door.
    Hani clasped her hands across her stomach. “What of Ianna? What of my daughter?”
    Suhru dropped her gaze. “You know of the ishtaritu ritual, don’t you?”
    Hani stifled her reply out of respect to the young girl who had just completed her own rite of passage.
    The girl blushed. “Of course you do. Well, Ianna, for some reason—reasons nobody can understand, she’s so beautiful—has not completed her ritual.”
    Hani’s heart leaped in spite of the fear that gripped her stomach. Ianna remains untouched! Perhaps there was still time to bring her home. There must be a time limit, some kind of rule she could appeal to that would free Ianna from her obligation.
    Suhru cleared her throat. “The naditu assigned to her holds her close. No one has been able to speak with her, to find out what the . . . problem might be.”
    Hani nodded, still afraid to give her thoughts voice.
    The young girl looked down. “We heard yesterday that the High Priestess believes Mother Ishtar smiles upon Ianna. She has called for a naditu ceremony for her.”
    Hani creased her brow, still unsure of what all this meant. “So, after this ceremony will she be allowed to come home?”
    Suhru murmured, “Ianna will not be coming home. A naditu remains at the temple. For always.”
    The ball of fear that bulged in the back of her mind erupted and paralyzed her. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Not coming home? Ever?”
    The girl nodded.
    “Who is this? What’s going on?” Mordac’s mouth gaped in a broad yawn as he stepped from the back room.
    Hani’s vision tunneled. Her pulse pounded in her temples until she thought they would burst. Her breath cut to short rasps, and she turned toward her husband.
    “You!”
    Mordac scratched his neck, then paused. “What?”
    Hani flew into the chest of her husband and nearly toppled him over. Mordac’s eyes went wide as his wife gripped him by the sides of his head.
    “You were the one who insisted Ianna go to the temple for that cursed ceremony! You said, ‘It’s what is done,’ as though the honor of our only child meant nothing in the face of this cursed, vile, ritual! What kind of father are you?”
    Mordac tried to gain control. “Woman! You will not talk to me in that tone of—”
    “Don’t you dare talk to me!” Hani grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him to her face. “You’ve killedour