Tim Lebbon - Echo city

The Dragarians passed a large lake at the dome's center and started up the far slope, heading for a distant arch that must lead into a third dome. The Unseen followed, and Nophel remained alert. There was no sign that they had been sensed at all, but in such a strange place…

Anything was possible. It was a rich, powerful feeling, which he was doing his best to shed. He hated it. Long had he denied the part of him-the part inherited from his mother-that saw wonder in the smallest of things. It made him believe he had her in his mind, and he could not live like that. It gave the impression that he had her sense of the wonderful, and so he had spent much of his life searching only for the mundane. The Scopes were amazing creations, but to him they were monsters, and he used their mutated lenses to spy on the rawest denizens of the city-the criminals, whores, slash sellers, and thieves, the lowest dirt in the crawling gutters of filth that he knew existed out there. For Nophel there was no wonder in Echo City, and when any sense of awe did creep in, from whatever quarter, he would close his eyes and not look again.

Now he could not close his eyes. His quarry might be close, so he viewed this place with the eyes of someone else-a new Nophel, given invisibility and thus the chance of a new life. He admitted the marvels here, and it was liberating.

He wondered if his mother had known.

They followed the Dragarians through to the next dome. This was almost entirely filled with a huge reservoir; several canals led off in various directions, and a network of refining rigs was set at regular spacings across the surface. The sound of water falling echoed through the dome, and Nophel could see pure water tumbling from the refineries' highest points. Birds swooped through the air, and flocks of ducks had made the lake their own. There were also many boats; close to the shore, down the small slope from where they'd emerged, a handful of craft were moored to a jetty. Smoke rose from several chimneys on the boats, and the scent of cooking fish was mouthwatering.

The Dragarians they had followed in were spreading out along the shore, joining hundreds of others already there. Many sat on the short grass covering the lakefront; others rushed through the crowds to hug people they had seen, gushing greetings and gesticulating wildly.

"I'm guessing that's our man," Alexia said, pointing toward the lake, and at first Nophel could not see. He scanned the crowd, glancing out at the moored boats and then back again. He followed a fat man, his webbed hands closed around a glass bowl containing something steaming. The man left the jetty and walked up the slight slope, and when he knelt before a seated shape, Nophel saw him.

Rufus Kyuss. He sat in a simple wooden seat, surrounded by a group of what must have been guards. They, too, sat, but were alert. They looked anywhere but at Rufus. And they wore long cloaks, beneath which glinted sharp things.

Nophel smiled, pleased to witness imperfection. It seemed that the Dragarians had made a successful contained society, but still there was a need for security.

"That has to be him," he said, and then Alexia fell on him, shoving him to the ground and flipping him onto his back.

"Nophel!"

"What?" She was fading from view! "Alexia, what are you-"

"Nophel, concentrate. You're showing yourself!"

Shocked, he closed his eyes and focused, slowing his breathing and imagining his flesh fading, his shadow brightening. Alexia's grip on his arms lessened and she stood away from him, and when he sat up, the others were looking at him. Though still ecstatic at what he had given them, now they appeared gray and wan.

"I…" But he didn't know what had happened. He glanced down the slope and saw no one looking their way.

"You'll have to stay here," Alexia said. "Keep low."

"What do you mean?"

"While we go to get him, of course."

Nophel stood, still shaken. "But we need a plan."

"No time," she said. "What, you want to go and hide somewhere, plan and scheme, and when we get back find he's gone?"

He looked at Rufus Kyuss, the visitor from beyond Echo City, survivor of the Bonelands, another creation of his mother's that she had simply let go. From this distance, it was difficult to make out the man's expression, but he seemed to be accepting the offerings presented to him-eating the food, drinking the wine. He did not appear to acknowledge those who prostrated themselves at his feet.

"He seems in no danger," he said softly.

"But those Watchers told us how urgent everything is," Alexia replied. "There's no time to waste."

"Maybe," Nophel said.

"Maybe? Are you…?" She shook her head, snorting. "It's just as likely that they'll string him up and feed him his own balls as keep serving him. This could all be part of some sacrificial ceremony."

"You Blades should know," Nophel said coldly.

Alexia pressed her gray lips together. None of the Unseen looked like living people, and Nophel had to glance away.

"Stay here," Alexia said. "Keep watch for us. You have a good field of view. If there's any trouble, shout as loud as you can. They won't hear, but we will."

"Hopefully," the tall man said. "If he doesn't fade in again. Shouldn't one of us stay with him?"

"No," Nophel and Alexia said at the same time.

"I'm fine," he said. "I must have been… drifting. I'll concentrate." I haven't come this far to lose out now. I have to meet him, talk with him. I have to know what he knows, and make sure he knows what I do.

"You're sure?" Alexia said, and her voice was more friendly this time.

Nophel nodded. She smiled. And then the three Unseen started down the hillside.

It was strange watching Alexia and the other two pass unnoticed into the ranks of the Dragarians. When he'd followed Alexia through the streets of Marcellan Canton, she had moved with grace and ease, nudging or startling people only intentionally. Now that stealth had to come to the fore. The Dragarians were worshipping their returned god, and any suspicion that something untoward was happening could result in chaos.

Maybe that would help us, he thought, and for a moment he considered manifesting. Who would they bow down to then? But Alexia and the two men had already weaved their way through the Dragarian soldiers to stand before Rufus's wooden chair, and Nophel had an idea. He hoped that Alexia would be thinking along the same lines: use their fears against them. But the fact that none of them could communicate with Rufus without manifesting before the Dragarians and giving themselves away-therein lay the problem.

For a few moments the Unseen stood there as if confused. They swapped a few words, looked around, and then Alexia pulled a knife. She stepped forward and pressed it tight beneath Rufus's jaw.

He tensed in his seat, lifting himself upright from where he'd been slouched, eyes going wide and hands lifting toward his throat. The two Unseen men grabbed an arm each and held it down. And while they could not speak to him, Nophel knew for certain that Rufus understood the message.

The Dragarians had not noticed. But when the man they regarded as a god rose into the air before them, his wooden chair fading away to nothing, they started to shout. Some stood and backed away, tripping, sprawling, turning to run when they could. Others bowed down and pressed their faces into the grass. And several simply watched, their faces blank. The fearful, the devout, and the doubting. The last, Nophel knew, were the ones who might present problems.

The men used a shoulder each to carry Rufus through the crowd. Alexia kept a short sword pressed against his back, the point penetrating his clothing. To the Dragarians, he floated. They followed his progress, but no one pursued him.

Not yet.