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She thought back to the day she had first seen Rufus coming in across the desert. Even rushing across to him and back again, she'd been reticent. Will I be able to step out into that desert? Will any of us? And then she realized that the decider would not be what might lie ahead but what was behind.

The streets and parks became more crowded the farther south they went. Many people had started the journey but ended it in a tavern or parkland, perhaps losing the urgency that Gorham's message had implanted in them or maybe just deciding that whatever was coming offered no escape. The Hanharans among them-most of them, she realized, because indoctrination was one of the Marcellans' greatest powers-would be praying silently to their deep prophet, asking him for salvation were they to die that day. Children cried and parents bustled, but there was a surreal air to the whole scene.

"Don't they realize what's happening?" Peer asked.

"How can they?" Gorham said. "The ground shakes, and that has happened before."

"Never to this extent. The fallen buildings. The fires."

"Most of the fires are started by people," he said.

After a while Rose guided them to a park where dozens of standing stones had been raised to signify important points in the city's history. It was called the Learning Fields, but today thousands of people were passing the stones without a second glance. Peer had come here once on a school trip when she was ten years old-a three-day journey, across the city and back to Mino Mont, that had opened her eyes to the rest of their world. The day spent touring the Learning Fields and being lectured by the historians who had made this place their life was one of the fondest memories of her childhood. Passing the rocks now only made her sad, because she could feel the rich history of Echo City being forgotten already. She wondered how many Echoes were left untouched below this place and whether any of them were even there anymore.

At the far edge of the Learning Fields, they found the long street before them thronged with people. They looked for another way around, but neighboring thoroughfares were equally jammed.

"Nophel says the streets are all like this between here and Skulk," Rose said.

"There's no way around?" Gorham asked. "No route through or below the buildings?"

"Even his Scopes can't see through walls."

"How far are we from the Skulk border?" Gorham asked.

"A mile," Peer said. "Perhaps less."

"The Border Spites won't let people through," Alexia said. "They're mean bastards."

"They're also cowards," Peer said. "Little more than mercenaries. They'll have run at the sight of this many people. This must just be the line waiting to get in."

Skulk, she thought. How unprepared was it for this? It could never feed and water thousands of people. The Southern Reservoir was kept mostly drained so that those who lived in the ruined canton could be kept under constant threat of thirst, and stoneshrooms could not feed the whole city's population.

"How many do you suppose came?" she asked, raising her voice above the crowd's hubbub.

"Not enough." Gorham was looking back the way they had come, across the Learning Fields and past the imposing wall of Marcellan Canton. On the slopes above, a whole sector seemed to be blurring.

"What the crap is that?" Alexia said.

Peer squinted, rubbed her eyes in case they'd picked up dust, sniffed the air for smoke. But nothing improved her vision. And nothing changed what she saw.

A spread of buildings and streets almost a mile across sank from view, sending up great billowing clouds of dust, explosions of rock and bricks, and a horrendous roar that swept in across the Learning Fields like the cry of a dying god. The Echoes were swallowing the present and making it history.

"Oh, by all the gods!" Peer said, adding her voice to a thousand exhalations of shock and terror. "It's gone."

"Just sinking down," Gorham said, aghast. "All those buildings. How many people?"

Rose stood between them and held on to their arms, slumping down. The crowd was surging away from the park, as if the cataclysm that had befallen the city several miles distant could reach out and consume them all.

Perhaps it can, Peer thought, and, looking at Rose's face, she knew there was no perhaps to it. This was the beginning of the end.

"Vex?" she shouted above the crowd.

"Open the bags," Rose said. Though her voice was soft, Peer heard every word. "Release the bloodflies slowly. We'll make a path through the crowds. We have to reach Skulk's southern walls. We don't have very long."

Penler!

Gorham hugged Peer around the shoulders, and she relished his warmth. But when Peer closed her eyes to lose the dreadful sight, she was presented with another-Malia, spluttering in agony, dying beneath her sword.

And she knew that she could not leave anyone else behind.

Gorham went first, holding his initial opened bag up high before him. The flies spewed out and spread, thousands of them, hazing the air around him before darting off in all directions. Perhaps it was because they had been incarcerated for so long-or maybe because of something the Baker had done to them-but they spread and dispersed quickly. A few people cried out in surprise as they were bitten, but most pulled away from Gorham and the others at the sight of what they were doing, and a route opened along the street.

Peer came behind him, with Alexia and Rose bringing up the rear. This is when we find out, he thought, and the strangeness of their actions struck him. Releasing countless flies into the air might decide whether everyone he could see now lived or died. He wanted to explain, but they would never have believed.

He saw a woman swatting a fly on her arm, and he almost cursed her for a fool.

They moved quickly along the street, and when his first bag was empty, Gorham unslung another, pricked its corner with his knife, and hurried on.

"Save your last bags for Skulk," Rose said. The buildings around them were more dilapidated, obviously lived in but fallen into disrepair, and Gorham hoped that meant that they were approaching the Levels.

He had never been this far south. Skulk was another world, a part of Echo City that people knew existed but most tried to cast from their mind. Like Dragar's Canton, it was a section of the city cut off from the rest, though its purpose could not have been more different. He'd had many arguments with friends and fellow Watchers about the moralities of banishing people from the rest of Echo City, but he had always seen it as fairer than the alternative. A thousand years before, during the brutal reign of the first Marcellan family, criminals were banished to the Markoshi Desert, the city walls patrolled so that anyone trying to return would be captured and boiled alive in sleekrat oil. Banishment was surely preferable to that.

And there was still the Marcellan crucifixion wall for the worst offenders.

Then Peer had been tortured and sent to Skulk, and it had become more of an unknown land to him than ever before.

A fly landed on the back of his hand and bit. It was a sharp, brief pain, and when the fly fluttered away, he looked at the tiny wound it left behind.

"I've been bitten," he said above the excitable crowd's voice.

"Will I feel a change?"

"I don't know," Rose said, sounding weaker than before. He glanced at her, and she was marching on with a determined expression, her face, arms, and hands speckled with dozens of fly bites. She met his gaze and looked away again. She wanted neither pity nor any more questions.

"You okay?" he asked Peer, and she nodded, turning her arm so he could see several bites across her wrist.

"I'm itching all over," Alexia said.

"You should wash more."

"Fuck you, Watcher."

By the time they reached the Levels, they had each emptied all but one of their bags. People behind and around them yelped and swore as they were bitten, and Gorham was amazed no one had tried to stop them. Just another bit of strangeness in their lives today, he thought. And then he saw Skulk for the first time.