Echo City by Tim Lebbon Page B

east.
    Rufus jumped, scrambling to his feet, but Peer crawled across the debris-strewn alley and held him down. He was breathing hard and fast, but she held his jaw with one hand and turned his face until he was looking right at her.
His eyes are so green
, she thought, and she shook her head, shushing him as the noise echoed across the Levels.
    When Peer was six, there had been a series of anonymous attacks on Mino Mont’s water refineries. The authorities at the time had blamed them on the Dragarians, though there had been no such instances before or since, and the attacks had soon ended. What she remembered most was not the panic that had spread quickly through Mino Mont for those few days one summer—fear that if the refineries were destroyed, then the Northern and Eastern Reservoirs would quickly dry up—but the sounds of those few explosions. She had never heard anything like them before or since—until now.
    Crawling to the mouth of the alley, she looked east and saw several plumes of smoke about a mile away. They did not seem to be rooted to the ground but floated on the breeze.
    Three more explosions came, bursting in the air like rapidly blooming roses, spewing sparks followed by thin limbs of smoke. The colors were bright and varied, and each explosion flowered and spread differently. She had seen skyfires before many times, during street parties to celebrate an important Marcellan’s birthday or to mark the execution of another Pretender. But they were always a weak, sputtering affair. Never anything like this. These filled the sky.
    “What?” Rufus said behind her. He’d crawled up close, and now he clung on to the leg of her trousers, shaking.
    “Penler,” Peer said. “Full of surprises.”
    She looked across the Levels at the three guard towers. Two of them were abuzz with activity as Border Spites climbed orslid down the rope ladders splayed around their legs. Atop the third tower—the farthest to the west—she could see three guards shielding their eyes as they watched the skyfires.
    Go
, she thought.
Relieve your boredom. See what’s happening
.
    “We’ll give it a few moments,” she said. “Then we go.” Some of the guards started along the northern boundary of the Levels, the sun glinting from their weapons.
This is madness
, she thought, but she shoved that idea aside. Penler was doing this for her, and if he’d thought there was a chance of her being caught, he’d have suggested otherwise.
    It was up to her to make sure his trust was not mislaid.
    “Follow me,” she said, turning to make sure Rufus understood. He nodded. “Stay close behind me. Stay low.” She indicated what she meant with her hand. He nodded again.
He understands more than he says, or can say
. But that was another mystery to unravel later.
One breath at a time
, as her poor dead mother used to say. Peer took in a deep breath and left the cover of the buildings.
    There were several heavy coughs to the east, and Peer saw smoke trails lifting objects high above the Levels. Upon exploding, they splashed a palette of colors across the sky, and the falling flames twisted around one another like dancing silk snakes. They were unlike any skyfires she had ever seen or heard of before. The sparks did not extinguish but kept spitting and dancing in the air, each one seemingly in concert with those around it. Shapes were formed and dispersed again, as if teasing—fighting rockzards, a diving rathawk plucking its prey from the air, wisps swooping toward and around one another without ever actually touching. For a second she stood amazed, before realizing that this display was not meant for her.
    There was more movement way across the Levels, as guards streamed along the border.
    Keeping low, Peer headed across, with Rufus following. She had been right about the rains—her boots quickly sank in thick mud. She felt it oozing over the boots’ lips and touching her shins, her ankles, and she imagined it as thedust of history.