Peer picked up an oil torch, lit it on the first strike, and handed it to Nophel. "We'll need our sword hands free," she said. The injured man smiled, ghastly and wan in the torchlight.
"Hate to say it," Nophel said to Alexia, "but do you know the way?"
The Unseen smiled softly, lit her own torch, and started down the stairs.
They traveled two miles through a time gone by, taking it in turns to support Nophel, and all the while the cloying silence was more terrifying than the noise of the crowds they had left behind. In the darkness lay a potential for terrible violence, and that potential was being realized more and more. They heard deep rumbles in the distance-behind them, they thought, though they could not be certain. Some of those rumbles seemed to echo as roars. And sometimes these roars grew and grew, and they had to try to find cover and lie down as the ground shook and dust and rocks fell from the shadows above them.
What are we really doing? Peer thought. The city was shaking to pieces, the population was panicking, and her only aim was to reach the Baker with a canteen of cooling, thickening blood. Rufus might be insane, and the Dragarians thought he was their god. Malia was dead. Many other people were dead. Am I really that mad?
Yet again, she wished Penler was with her. Dependable Penler, whose knowledge and intelligence would see him through these confusions. And, thinking of him, she realized that his life was about to be turned upside down as well.
"They're all going to Skulk," she said to the shadows, but Alexia and Nophel seemed not to hear.
The Unseen led them uncannily across Crescent, transposing Peer's memories of her journey to the laboratory aboveground onto the dead landscape they now walked. Old trails down here echoed the path of current trails above, and Nophel managed the journey without a single complaint. His wound had stopped bleeding for now, but the amount of blood he had lost was shocking. The Dragarian crossbow bolt protruded from his chest just below his collarbone, pinning his dirty cloak to his body. Even if he survived the internal injuries, Peer thought, infection might well kill him.
When they finally drew close to the Baker's subterranean rooms, Peer prepared for the welcoming committee. She glanced around nervously, listening for the sounds of flying things or the cautious tread of the Pserans, but the Echo was theirs alone. She found the door they had entered before, pushed it open, and was suddenly convinced of what would be awaiting them.
Gorham and Nadielle never made it back. They're lying dead way down where the deepest Echoes merge with myth and legend, killed by whatever's shaking the city.
She entered first, walking into the vast womb-vat chamber alone. Lights still shone, but several of the vats had broken and collapsed, slumped to the ground like giant melted candles.
One still bubbled and spat.
And then Gorham emerged from behind the vat. He froze when he saw her, but she had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
"Gorham," she said, and ran for him. He seemed changed by whatever he had been through, but she would not ask him yet. He looked surprised at her eagerness to see him. Both of them had new histories to learn. But right then, the feel of the present when she held him was all that mattered.
Nophel looked through the wide doorway at the amazing room beyond. Peer hugged a man, Alexia stood inside the doorway looking around in amazement, shadows shifted, air moved, and scenes of destruction were countered by the presence of the single huge vat that still appeared whole.
These were the Baker's laboratories, and it was nothing like coming home.
He took a step forward and groaned. His vision blurred, and he tried to shout at the unfairness of things. All this way, I only need to set eyes on her before…
Nophel's world upended, and soft hands eased him to the ground.
Gorham wanted to talk with Peer, discover what she had been through, connect with her again after being apart for so long. He had never believed that connection would be possible again, not after what he had done to her. But something had changed. And he was not foolish enough to believe that the change was only in her.
She told him about Malia. He told her about Nadielle and Rose. Alexia was introduced, Rose came and took the water canteen containing Rufus's blood, and the Pserans carried Nophel into the vat chamber.
"The Baker's blood son," Peer said. Rose paused for the briefest moment to stare at him, then walked away from them all. Peer stared after her, eyes growing wide as Gorham explained more.
"So she's your daughter?"
"I…" Gorham could not say, because he had not yet come to terms with the reality of that himself.
Rose had climbed the ladder beside the vat, and she sat there with her potions and mixes, carefully extracting blood from the canteen and doing something with it that none of them could see.
"I so need to rest," Peer said. "To wash, and eat, and sleep for a day. But it feels as if it's only just begun."
"The whole city's moving south," Alexia said. She looked tired and drawn, and already she was reminding Gorham very much of Malia. There was an inner strength to her that could never be touched by physical tiredness, and she looked like someone who would get what she wanted. Unlike Malia, her eyes held a restrained humor. He liked that. In the face of all that was happening, it made her seem so human.
"We're in Rose's hands now," Gorham said. "Every chance feels small, but without her there's no chance at all."
Nophel mumbled, still unconscious. The Pserans had quickly melted away after bringing him in, and Alexia crouched by his side, carefully examining his wound.
"It needs cleaning," she said. "And he needs medicine."
The new Baker returned to them, her girl's body and face already appearing older than any of theirs. She's fading even more, Gorham thought, and he only hoped she lasted long enough.
"Do you have medicine?" Alexia asked her.
The girl stared at the prone man, and there was something in her that Gorham had not seen before. Since her birthing she had been busy-either working at the vat, or thinking about what to do next, reading the Baker's books and charts, and making esoteric notes in a thick pad. Now, for the first time, she was still and contemplative.
"Carry him through to my rooms," she said.
"Seeing you is what's kept him alive," Peer said.
Rose looked at her, then turned and walked away without replying.
Peer took a step forward, but Gorham caught her arm.
"And you thought Nadielle was cold?" he said. She smiled at him, and that warm flush he'd felt upon seeing her enter the laboratory returned. They both had so much to say, with so little time.
"I'll tell you when I'm ready," Rose said from where she'd climbed back up to the vat's lip. "You should all rest. When the time comes, we'll have to go south, to Skulk."
"And then?" Peer asked.
The girl looked at her curiously, as if considering a specimen of something she had never seen before. "I remember so much about you," she said.
Gorham felt Peer shiver against his side.
"What will happen?" Gorham asked.
"Then we see whether any of this will work." Rose turned back to the vat.
"Come on," he said. "There's some food left. And wine. We'll drink to success." He helped Alexia carry the unconscious man through the vat chamber and into the rooms beyond, and the air buzzed with unspoken news.
Peer seemed changed. She held her injured hip, but there was a strength to her that had not been there when she'd offer him a dismissive wave goodbye. Her eyes were haunted, but she had a smile for him. He hoped that was a good enough start.
They placed Nophel on the Baker's bed, then sat at a table and passed around a bottle of wine. Before long, Alexia leaned back in her chair and slept, and Peer had to settle Gorham when the Unseen woman began to flicker from view.