Tim Lebbon - Echo city

The chamber took a breath between deaths, and Peer wondered who would be next.

"Peer," Rufus said softly, and she turned to the tall man. "You've been my only friend."

"I wanted to help you," she said.

"And you did." His eyes flicked around the chamber, taking in the bodies of the two dead Unseen and the several Dragarians backed against the chamber wall. They all looked up but kept their heads bowed. Their god has spoken, Peer thought, and perhaps such power and belief was what it was about. Who needed real gods, if false ones could exert such control?

"I will return with you," he said to the Dragarians, "and no one will try to prevent that."

I'm losing him, Peer thought. He's going. She reached for his arm and he held her hand, squeezing gently.

"Doom hangs over the city," Rufus continued. "As Dragar I return, and my blood is as it was five hundred years ago-rich with the way to Honored Darkness." The few Dragarians muttered, shuffling their feet, glancing at one another. "But we will leave in peace. The city's end-days are here, with no need for us to hasten them. Our domes will close again, our warriors will be recalled, and there will be no more violence. This is no longer our home, and we have no more business here."

Alexia was now standing close to Nophel, glancing around uncertainly. When she caught Peer's eye, Peer nodded down at the short sword she held. The Unseen dropped the blade.

"Do you really believe…?" Peer asked, but Rufus leaned in close and took her in a gentle hug.

"To them, I'm their god," he whispered, "and they'll use whatever is in my blood-whatever was in Dragar's blood-to help them cross the Bonelands. Honored Darkness awaits to the north. I find only honor in their desire that I lead them there."

"But Echo City needs you, Rufus!"

"This is not my home," he said, "and Rufus is not my name."

"Dragar is?"

He only blinked, and the Dragarians fidgeted.

"I don't believe in gods," Peer said. "We need your blood. The Baker needs it, and you can't just turn around and leave with them." She nodded at the chopped warriors, their blades folded and stained with drying blood.

"You'd fight them?" Rufus asked.

"Yes!" Alexia said, and she knelt to pick up her dropped sword.

"No," Rufus said. "No." He walked to Alexia and took the sword from her hand, and she did nothing to prevent him. He glanced down at Nophel, blood from the fallen man's wound spreading on the chamber floor. Then he sliced the sword across his own palm.

The Dragarians gasped, but Rufus stilled them with a glance. He told Alexia to empty her water canteen, then squeezed his wound above the container's neck, wincing, his skin turning pale as blood dripped. For a while it was the only sound in the huge chamber, and then Rufus swayed, and Peer dashed to his side to hold him steady. The Dragarians mumbled at her contact with him.

"This might not be enough," Alexia said, but Peer cut her off with a glare.

"Thank you," Peer said. Rufus nodded at her and let her bind the wound. "But you expected this?" she asked. "Ever since you arrived here?"

"I had…" Rufus said, frowning. "Feelings. And I had to follow them."

"And they led you here?" Alexia asked. But Rufus ignored her, looking only at Peer.

"They called me Man from Sand," he said.

"Who?"

"The people across the desert. Their world is called the Heartlands, and their Heart and Mind sees through me. It knows Echo City now. I hope it will welcome you."

"Tell me more!" Peer said.

"It's not for me to tell you," he said. "And I have to go."

"Please!" Peer said. She was pleading now, struggling to grasp the truth she had been seeking her whole adult life. "It's everything I've ever believed in!"

"Then have faith," Rufus said. He turned and walked to where the Dragarians stood in respectful, awed silence. They parted to ensure their bloodied weapons did not touch him, then followed him from that place without a backward glance.

The Bellower chamber fell almost silent; only Nophel's heavy breathing whispered against the walls.

"Well, that was intense," Alexia said. She stared at her two fallen friends, then knelt again beside the motionless Nophel, examining the injury.

"Is he…?" Peer asked, still not looking away from where Rufus had vanished.

"It's not good," Alexia said. "Missed the heart, but he's losing blood."

Peer turned and looked at the water canteen Alexia had placed carefully on the ground. That's the blood we can't afford to lose, she thought. "We have to get to the Baker," she said. "As quickly as we can. We stop for nothing." She glanced up at the Bellower. "I hope I can remember what he did to make this thing work."

"I'm not dead yet," Nophel whispered. "Help me… into the pod."

"So she's really your mother," Peer said.

"My mother."

"Talk about mixed heritage," Alexia said.

And as she and Alexia lifted Nophel into the Bellower pod, Rufus's parting comment imprinted itself on Peer's mind forever.

Then have faith.

He was pacing the vat hall, feeling helpless, silently exhorting Rose to acknowledge him again instead of just sitting on the vat, watching and stirring and watering, when she gasped and fell. She bounced from the shell of the vat, knocked her head against one of the large wooden uprights, and splashed in the warm pool around its base. The sound of her head making contact with the ground was sickening, and even as he ran across to her-fifteen steps, certainly no more-he was certain that she was dead.

He felt an impact through his feet, so powerful that he stumbled a little before regaining his balance. Accompanying it for the first time, a distant rumble… and a roar.

Oh, crap, oh, crap-and he knew how great events often turned on the pivot of a minor, pointless catastrophe. Kneeling beside her, he dreaded what he would see. There was no blood, at least not at first glance. No dents in her head. Her left eye flickered slightly, splashing droplets of water from her eyelashes.

"Rose," he said, reaching out but not quite touching.

Another impact, and dust came down from the ceiling. The vat rumbled and whispered, and he expected its sides to flex and burst at any moment. What's she making this time? He had seen the birth of Neph, and then those three fighting things, and finally Rose, so now what could Rose be making to better that? What monstrous creature would she send after the others to fight whatever was rising? It was like sending a bird after a spider after a fly…

"No!" she gasped. Gorham lifted her head from the water, and her eyes fluttered open. One was still pink and bloodshot, but they were both alert and conscious. She fixed her gaze on Gorham for a beat, then tried to sit up. He helped. She thanked him. Then she slowly lowered her eyes.

"She's dead," she said. "We don't have very long."

"Nadielle?"

Rose stood and held on to the wooden support. She wiped water from her face and looked at a smear of blood across the back of her hand. Her nose was bleeding.

"Are you sure?" Gorham asked.

"She tried to communicate with the Vex while her creations attacked it. Tried to reason with it. But it killed her. The chopped are still fighting it, but…" She shrugged. "Help me back up. I have to make certain the vat-"

"Don't you care?" It killed her, he thought. She's gone-all that life, those gorgeous eyes glazed…

"She made me because she knew it would happen," the girl said, confused.

"I care!" Gorham said.

Rose seemed uncertain, as if waiting for him to say more. When he remained silent, unable to speak, she turned away and looked back up at the vat.

Gorham walked away. I ran over here to help her, he thought. And she never needed my help.

"They'd better bring him soon," Rose said. As if to illustrate her point, there was another impact that shook the ground and made him stagger against one of the ruined vats. His hand slid into a sickly, thick mess, and he wiped it on his trousers without looking.