Two days passed. Though there was still one moonrise left between the people and the inauspicious event, Sippar had already fallen into silence. Even in the morning, when the squares would usually begin to stir with peddlers hauling out their wares and bakers shoveling dung into their firepits, it was quiet. As if sensing the tension that hung over the city, the livestock had gone silent as well, no braying, no stomping, only the nervous chewing of cud and hens scratching at the dirt.
Though hushed, the city still busied itself with preparations for the coming eclipse. People painted their entryways with red ochre, buried miniature statues and amulets of Pazuzu and other protective deities under their thresholds, and spent drops of blessed oils in the corners of their houses to guard agai
