"He is fluent," Peer insisted, "but it's a child's fluency. Haven't you noticed? He speaks Echoian like a child."
"A murderous child." He brought her a drink and, despite everything, she felt her whole body relax slightly when she smelled the five-bean.
"That was an accident," she said, remembering the Border Spite Rufus had killed after they crossed the Levels. She had not yet told Gorham about that and wasn't sure she would. Perhaps the time to tell had passed. And maybe she didn't trust him.
"But it shows he's dangerous. If he really does come from elsewhere-"
"How the crap can you still doubt it? You saw how he reacted to Malia's truthbugs. He screamed and gibbered, as if whatever he saw was just too terrible." She shivered at the memory, wondering how many others had been subjected to their intrusion. "Has anyone else you've used those things on ever acted that way?"
"No. The bugs usually cause calm, not fear."
"His clothing? The things he carries?"
"There are people in Echo City who might have made all that."
"Really?" She drank some more, looking at Gorham through the steam and trying to read his face. I should hate him, she thought.
"You must hate me," he said. Peer laughed softly. "What?" he asked.
"Gorham," she said, and they both heard the echo of old affections in how she spoke his name. We should be asking about each other, filling in those missing three years, but we're dropped into the importance of the here and now.
Malia entered, her stern face different. She was frightened and amazed, excited and nervous. At least one Watcher now believed in Rufus.
"He's asleep," she said. "I gave him some vinegared stoneshroom to help him rest."
"Thank you," Peer said. Malia nodded and offered the beginnings of a smile.
"So now we need to talk," Gorham said.
"Is this it?" Malia closed the door behind her, pouring a mug of five-bean for herself. The room was an old administration office for the jail, sparse and bleak, but the Watchers had dragged some comfortable furniture down here over time. It felt damp and had soaked up the atmosphere of the place, but it was somewhere to rest.
"I'm not sure we can-" Gorham began, glancing at Peer.
"Hanharan's cock, Gorham! After what she went through because of us, and what she's put herself through for Rufus? Honor her with your trust, at least."
Peer glanced at Gorham, and he lowered his eyes, abashed. He swilled the five-bean in his mug and seemed to study the dregs, like some old seer trying to read the future.
"There's something happening," he said, still not looking up from the mug. "Noises heard deep down. The Garthans are worried."
"How can you know that?" Peer asked cautiously, thinking of Penler's haunted words: The Garthans are never afraid of anything.
"You've heard of Sprote Felder. He's… a friend of ours."
"A Watcher?"
"He doesn't call himself that."
"What sort of noises have them worried?" Peer asked. This is what I heard from Penler… these same rumors…
"Something unknown."
"And one of the Custodian priests," Malia said. "We've talked to him as well. He and his people believe something is coming."
"Maybe they mean Rufus Kyuss," Peer quipped, but there was little humor in her voice, and neither of her companions smiled.
"God of new things," Gorham said. "Maybe he's here to welcome in the future."
"You can't be-"
"Of course I'm not serious!" he said, standing and turning his back on Peer.
"Others in the city are nervous as well," Malia said. "Bellia Ton?"
"I don't know her," Peer said.
"River reader. Her, others, all sensing something. And now you come to us with Rufus, and…"
"And the Watchers may not have to watch for much longer," Gorham said. "We've never known exactly what it might entail, and we still don't-but the end-times we've long expected for Echo City might be here at last."
Peer shook her head, confused at what was being said.
"This is it," Malia said. Peer had never heard fear in the woman's voice before, but it was there now. "This is what the Watchers have been waiting for forever. Even before you came, we were starting to suspect."
"How does Rufus figure in this?" Peer asked.
"He changes everything!" Malia said.
Peer looked from Malia to Gorham, and he continued staring into his mug. But his eyes were alight. Her heart thumped, and she felt a queasy excitement.
"Your friend from afar might just be our salvation," Gorham said. "And I can't believe his appearance is a coincidence. If Echo City ends, we have to leave to survive. And if he truly came from across the Bonelands…" He looked up at Peer at last. "We have to get him to the Baker."
"Yeah," Malia said.
"But we should tell someone, shouldn't we?" Peer asked. "There must be people we should tell?"
"Who?" Gorham asked. "Nobody in power. After they took you, the Marcellans crushed the Watchers down. You already know what happened to Bren." He glanced at Malia. "The whole upper echelon of the Watchers' organization was wiped out, imprisoned, or-"
"Driven underground," Malia finished for him. "Some of them-the cowards-ran. Never seen them since."
"So here I am," Gorham said. "Leading the Watchers. Making decisions that might affect everyone."
"I won't pity you your position," Peer said quietly. "I can't."
"And I respect that. But I need you to understand why this has to remain secret. We can't risk anyone finding out about Rufus. If word of this gets to the Marcellans…" He shrugged.
"They know they can never destroy our beliefs and aims," Malia said, "and they suspect there are still Watchers in the city. They'd kill Rufus as a Pretender and proclaim a day of celebration the moment they laid hands on him."
"Aren't there people you can trust?" Peer asked. Something seemed so wrong here-a visitor who had crossed the Markoshi Desert, one of the most incredible things ever to happen to Echo City, and they could tell no one.
"With this? I trust Malia," Gorham said. "Devin. A few other Watchers." He looked around, stroking one cheek as if searching for someone else.
"The new Baker?" Peer asked.
Gorham did not answer.
"Her name's Nadielle," Malia said. "And we have to take Rufus to her now!"
No, Peer thought. But she knew they were right: Rufus might have come to the city as a lost, confused man, but circumstances she knew nothing about were turning him into a potential savior.
The three of them sat for a while, drinking their five-bean and relishing what was left of silence.
"We're taking you to see someone," Peer said. Rufus lifted his head, and he was still terrified. She saw the potential for further screams in his eyes, and he suddenly looked much older. I thought he was thirty, she thought. But now maybe sixty.
"Who?" he asked.
"Her name's Nadielle. I've never met her. She's… we call her a flesh artist. The Baker."
"Artist," he said softly.
"We think she might be able to help."
"Will she hurt me?" Rufus asked, and Peer felt her throat tighten, her eyes burn.
"No, she won't," she said. "But you must realize that my friends don't trust you yet. You killed Gerrett."
"But I thought he was-"
"I know, Rufus. I know." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "But I still haven't told anyone about the Border Spite."
"Why? I was… protecting us both."
Is he really so innocent? she thought. His eyes said so, and his voice, and the way he was almost cowered down before her, like a submissive hound. But she could not shake that poison gun from her mind, nor the way he'd swung into action so smoothly when he thought it necessary. As if he'd been prepared rather than aimless.
"I don't want them to see you as a killer," she said.
His face relaxed a little and he nodded.
Peer looked around the small cell where they were holding Rufus. They hadn't locked the door-the mechanism was rusted and jammed-and Malia told Peer they'd taken him there to recover. But Devin had been standing outside the cell ever since, a sword on his belt. He'd said nothing when she came to see the visitor, but Peer could feel his eyes on the back of her neck. I can hardly blame them for guarding him, she thought, and she remembered Gerrett and his easy laugh.