"No," Peer said. "He is." She nodded at Nophel, the man who had brought them salvation, and Alexia's expression softened.
"I have an idea," she said, bringing out a small ball of twine. "I'll talk you through the plan while we're tying this."
Nophel broke the dried blood over his wound. Fresh blood flowed. Two other Unseen faded in, amazed. The room felt smaller. And Alexia started to explain how they would infiltrate Dragar's Canton.
As they left the ruined house, Peer could feel their sense of salvation. It was as palpable as the smell of roasting from a nearby market. The three Unseen exuded it, each of them visible for now so that they could experience the simple joy of being noticed. Alexia was connected to Nophel by a wound length of string-Peer had not understood the sense in that, but he'd seemed happy-and she was walking with a short, thin man who had yet to speak. His eyes were open with a child's awe, and she wondered how he had been seeing the world before now. His Scarlet Blade uniform was faded and dirty, he stank, but his enthusiasm was infectious, and as they followed the wall's route across the north of Marcellan Canton, Peer allowed herself to believe that they might be able to achieve this.
You follow us, Alexia had said. When we get close to Dragar's, we'll travel Unseen; the string will connect us, and we'll be far enough ahead to spot any trouble before it happens. We know the routes in and out, and each of us has been there several times. Keep the string taut. If you feel it go slack, that means we've stopped and there's trouble.
What's inside? Peer had asked.
Alexia had shaken her head softly. Best just to see.
They soon entered another building, and the three Unseen laughed and chatted like old friends.
Alexia smiled at Peer and the others and said, "We have a lot to thank you for."
"And you know how to show that thanks," Malia said. She was tied to a tall man, his face still beaming from being noticed. In the streets, a group of children had pointed and laughed at his unruly mop of ginger hair, and he'd ruffled it up to make them giggle more. Even the children's guardian had seemed unconcerned, so open and innocent was the tall man's delight.
"The basement of this place has an entrance to a tunnel," Alexia said. "We've used it before, and we keep a stockpile of oil torches inside. We'll be going down into the dark, then beneath the border through the first Echo."
"More darkness," Peer said. "More caves and torches. And the sun's only just come up."
"Hopefully it won't take long," Alexia said.
"They guard these places?" Malia asked.
"Most of them, yes. But there are cracks and crevices and old paths that even the Dragarians don't know." She smiled at Malia's obvious doubt. "Trust me. This will be our last time Unseen, and now we want to live as much as anyone."
The three Unseen faded from view, their faces masks of concentration, and the short man connected to Peer looked wretched as he slipped away. It won't be long, she wanted to say, but he had yet to speak a word to her. Communicating now, just as he was vanishing, seemed wrong.
Nophel watched them fade, and for an instant he shimmered in and out of focus. He caught Peer watching him and smiled.
"You can…?" she asked, and Nophel nodded.
"Alexia told me," he said. "She's been Unseen for so long, her sense of self has distanced. If I view myself as others see me, not how I see myself…" He flickered in and out of focus again, and the power before her scared Peer more than ever.
Unseen once again, they went down. Nophel and Alexia left first, and Nophel kept himself visible so that Peer and Malia could follow him. Peer and the thin man were next, and behind her she heard the gentle footsteps of the tall ginger man as he led Malia.
Through an extensive basement, into tunnels, and then caverns, Peer and the others followed people they could not see into a place they could not imagine. Dragar's Canton had been hidden away from the rest of Echo City for more than five hundred years, and though there were written accounts about what it had been like before the concealment-a normal place, with buildings similar to those throughout the city, ruled by priests of the generally benevolent Dragarian religion-no one knew for sure what had become of it since. There had been conjecture for a while, and sometimes there still was, but it had become a silent part of the city, forgotten by most because it was as distant and unknown as the Markoshi Desert. An enigma on their doorstep, Penler had called it once, and he should know. His book about the Dragarians had resulted in his banishment, but even he knew little. It was a book of legends and myths, considered insidious because so few knew even them, he'd told Peer once over a bottle of wine. The most amazing place in the city, and nobody thinks about it. It's just the six domes, that's all. They're regarded as sculptures now. Even kids don't dare one another to go out there and stand close to them anymore, because it's boring. Nothing can happen. Nothing ever does. At least, not that we see. Pushed by Peer, tongue loosened by more wine, he'd smiled and leaned back, staring at the cracked ceiling of his adopted home in Skulk. The Dragarians can't be fools, he'd said. They'll want to know what the rest of the city is doing. They might be closed off from us, but we're no mystery to them.
And we're going there now, Peer thought. Penler would be jealous. He should be here with me. And she swore to herself that given even the slightest opportunity, she would see her old friend again to tell him everything she knew.
Down in the first Echo of Crescent's northern extremes, they found themselves crossing a dead landscape eerily similar to that which surrounded the Baker's rooms. It was strange being led by the Unseen, the string Peer held wound around her hand connected to nothing. The far end faded slowly. She shone her torch ahead and it illuminated nothing, swallowed by shadow where the short man must be. Nophel had told them that the Blue Water acted on the mind of the observer, and she wondered what that meant if the Unseen did not even deflect light. The word magic crossed her mind again, but she was a pragmatist, and the term held connotations she could never entertain.
It was a wide-open Echo, apparently flat, and they followed a trail north that must have been well used in times gone by. The track marks were deep, and here and there they were flooded with dark, thick water. Peer was certain she saw ripples in the puddles, but no one else seemed to notice.
They walked quickly, covering several miles to the canton's border without incident. She glanced back at Malia several times, but they exchanged nothing more than a gentle, nervous smile. Perhaps talking through someone was too much for both of them.
Eventually Nophel paused, head tilted to one side, and then said, "We have to extinguish the torches from here."
"It'll be black as the Chasm!" Malia said.
"The Unseen will lead the way."
Peer doused her torch and watched its pilot light fade slowly away. Malia grumbled but did the same, and moments later it was utterly dark. Eyes open or closed, Peer could see nothing, and she felt the gentle tug on her string. Here we go, she thought, realizing just how much they were trusting Nophel and, in turn, the Unseen. None of them seemed to have any love for the city. Rufus was possible salvation, but to them he might be simply another dispossessed, another wanderer of dark places whom they cared about as little as they seemed to care about anyone.
They could slit her throat at any moment, or steal her torch and cut her loose. But worrying could not help her now.
She followed and discovered that, with sight taken from her, her ears became more sensitive. Whereas before she had not been able to hear the short man's footsteps, now she could just hear the subtle, gritty whisper of his feet crossing the ground. He seemed aware of this, because the string slackened, and she found herself following only the confident steps of that invisible man.
Then things began to change. Their breathing became more audible, and the sense of distance around them was replaced by a feeling of intense solidity. When Peer turned her head slowly from side to side, her hearing changed, though standing still she was not sure she could hear anything. She reached out and touched rock, and a sharp tug on her string urged her forward. Still walking, two more quick tugs sent her a definite message: Keep to yourself. Wherever they were, the Unseen must be afraid.
Trying to regulate her breathing, Peer concentrated on following her guide. They kept the string quite taut again, which meant that he'd gone on ahead of her, and at the beginning she found it difficult to step forward with any confidence. She could walk into a wall, or a hole, or a Dragarian waiting to slice and kill. But if that happened, they were all discovered. Besides, there was little she could do to change the situation. If she lit her torch, she would give them all away. She was down here for Rufus, and for everyone else. For the first time in a while, she wondered where Gorham was and what he was doing, and she hoped that he was safe.
She would never have believed that blindness would inspire timelessness, but when Nophel's torch flared alight ahead of her and he signaled that they could do the same, she had no idea how much time had passed. She had little opportunity to find out. The curtain before them took her breath away, and any other thoughts fled her mind.
At first she thought it was fire, but of course she would have seen it long before now. Stretching up into the darkness above them, beyond the reach of her torch, the curtain was a shimmering, moving thing, rustling in an absent breeze. It could have been water, but she heard no splashing or pouring. It could have been metal, but surely it would have clanged and creaked where it bent and moved so much?
"What the fuck is that?" Malia said softly.
"We're beneath the canal," Nophel said. "When the Dragarians dug that, they were working down here also. Alexia says…" He drifted off, listening to a voice Peer could not hear. "She says they worked deep down through the Echoes, cutting even their history off from our own. Different barriers in each Echo. This is one of the hardest to get through, but also the quickest."
"But what is it?" Peer asked, unable to keep the quaver from her voice. There was something unnatural about the way this curtain moved before them, almost as if…
"Looks like it's alive," Malia said.
Alexia appeared before them, fading into existence and frowning in concentration or pain. Maybe it does hurt, Peer thought, and she surprised herself by hoping that it did.
"Not alive like anything we'd understand," the Unseen said. She sighed, rubbed at her face, then turned toward the barrier. "It's soul-fire. That's what we call it, anyway. I'm not sure it has any other name, don't even know whether the Dragarians have named it. Probably not. They just made it and placed it here."
"What does it do?" Peer asked, already filled with dread.
"Doesn't matter," Malia said. "We just need to get through."
"It steals your soul if you touch it," Alexia said, smiling. "But it doesn't kill you. Leaves you walking. There are several Unseen, on this side or the other, existing without a soul because of that… thing."
"How can that be?" Peer said quietly, almost to herself. It was a dreadful idea, fantastic, and something she had never heard of before.
"We know the way through," Alexia said. "All you have to do is follow."
"And you found the route how?" Malia asked.
"Trial and error."
"And the wandering soulless are your errors?"