Firebloom

There were not always dragons in the valley. Marud City has always been comfortably nestled in a lush green valley between two rugged, once impassable mountain ranges. It was always peaceful in the valley. As the Naithien capitol, it's the country’s crown jewel. For centuries, architects and artists have been competing for builder’s grants to be allowed to beautify the city in their image, to immortalize their work as a towering spire, an encompassing museum, an awe-inspiring temple, or as much as a simple mural. The greatest artists from the known world, and a few who claimed to come from beyond its limits have turned what was-centuries ago-a drab market town into a rich collection of what always felt to me like individual jewel boxes you can fit hundreds of people into. When my brother and I moved to the city, I had expected to be disappointed. I had thought it couldn't possibly live up to its reputation. I was wrong.

The National Library is my favorite jewel box. Its walls are translucent slabs of stone inset with stained glass windows that tell the history of Naithe. During the day, the building glows from the outside in. It’s always quiet in the library, even when it’s packed with visitors, there’s a respectful hush to each voice. I think it’s something about the gentle quality of the light, the way it suggests that words are to be handled with care here. As long as Oren and I have been in the city, I’ve been able to find peace here. This is always where he knows to look for me, especially since I've begun trying to get into university.

That’s how he knew to find me here today. Today when the quiet inside is not a respectful hush, it’s a petrified silence. The hush inside has been tensing for several minutes. The sounds outside reached the people near the walls first. I've been sitting near the central light well, and now I can hear the noises too. I can hear what might be screams outside. Then I hear what might be running. Then I hear what is definitely a sharp, terrible, ear-splitting screech. When I hear Oren's footsteps, fast and heavy, they're nearly the only sound inside the library. He finds me in the section devoted to gold smithing (I’ve been spending a lot of time here since failing my first entrance exam). He grabs me by the arm, half pulling me from my seat, looking terrified in a way that I can’t even comprehend. He says to me in a panicked voice just above a whisper

“There are creatures. Huge. Animals. I can’t even describe them to you, Leo-“

He’s cut off by another terrible shriek that sets my heart pumping even faster. That noise tells every part of my body to run and hide. To hide and keep running.

“Oren” I whisper “What is it?” A stupid question considering what he’s just told me, but in times of panic stupid questions abound. I begin to receive my answer almost immediately. The building shakes with the violent thud of something enormous dropping onto the roof. People begin to scream in the library, but I don’t give them much thought. I can’t stop thinking about the fear in Oren’s eyes as he said the words “creatures” “animals”. The size anything would have to be to shake a great stone edifice like the library... I can’t even fathom it. Then I hear the crack. It’s the largest noise I’ve ever experienced. Oren does pull me from my seat. And we run. Stone splits down the length of the stairwell as we run. We are all running. The stairwell is flooding with people running. People from higher floors are screaming. Then comes the heat. A rush of blistering wind through every door in the stairwell, flames from the doors above. My mind cannot picture what sort of animal could cause this kind of havoc.

When we reach the ground floor and get shoved by the crowd into the rotunda, what I see makes my stomach drop. I feel the most physical wave of fear that I have ever felt. The fear that flooded me at the sound of its roar is a drop in the ocean of the fear that I feel upon seeing the thing. Its ugly head is like a snake's, fanged and attached to a long winding neck. Its body calls to mind bats and desert reptiles, it has wings that look to span a city block. Its enormous feet clutch the crumbling building as its mouth rips away more of the stone. It drops a huge chunk of marble and Oren shoves me against the wall and shields my body with his. We feel another blast of heat, more intense now, burning my skin so much that I scream. The flames are so bright I can see them even when I close my eyes. When the roaring and the flames subside Oren pulls me again. I don’t know where he thinks we could go, where could possibly be safe, but we run across the atrium, the now scalding stone beginning to leech its heat through my shoes. The rush of panicking, sweaty, bleeding bodies pushes Oren in front of me, but we hold each other tightly. I get shoved hard into him when the crowd bottlenecks at the great bronze doors. Only when Oren shouts in pain do I realize that the doors he’s being pressed into are made of metal that is now just shy of red hot. I pull him as hard as I can and I can't move an inch. Now we're both being crushed against the doors. I can feel the ornate patterns of the metal singeing my hands. Then I feel something I can't name rush through me. It feels like a rush of cool water through my veins, and I know I can pull us up. I grab Oren and yank him back into the crowd, I think we knock over a person behind us. I can’t worry about them. I can’t. I have to get him out of here. He came here to save me and now his face.. his face is bloody and blistered and the skin on the back of his arms and legs is the same as mine, red and searing.

It must be pure adrenaline that keeps him going because Oren looks a complete horror. The guilt I feel that he got mangled coming to save me creeps up my spine and grips at the muscles in my neck. We run uphill, up the winding alleys and back stairs of the city. When we’ve been running for what feels like ages, we stop and try to catch our breath. I try to apologize. I can’t. I can only cough and try to keep the breath I’m ripping away from the air from tearing open my chest. My sides ache. My legs ache. My skin burns. The beasts’ horrible screeches, and the roar of their flaming breath coming from different sides lets me know there are at least three of them. As soon as he’s able to stand upright again Oren pulls me along into the panicked crowd. He must notice the question on my face because he huffs out

“They keep going for the buildings that catch the light. They haven’t touched the mud flats.” The mud flats is the local, lovingly pejorative name for the section of town where the oldest dwellings, carved from a mountainside and built up with clay bricks still stand. the poorest in the city gradually moved in as the wealthy moved south, to softer hills and greener land near the river. If there’s one thing the mud flats do not do, it’s catch the light.

We’ve been walking in alleys and less crowded side streets when we reach a main road and get pulled along in the current of bodies yet again. Far fewer people here are bloodied and burned. I don’t want to think about the rest of us, about the people who didn’t make it out of the city center. The person I knocked over to save Oren. My stomach lurches. It takes me by surprise, but suddenly I am vomiting, and trying to aim for the side of a building rather than the road. Oren drags me along because, he is right when he says “We can’t stop”.

The sound of immense wings flapping overhead makes people scream, and break into a run. I get bumped, I get jostled, I get outright shoved, but I keep my center of gravity as I run. Oren is still clinging to my hand as I am to his. We make it several more blocks before I feel him drop my hand and I see him dive to the ground. I have less than a second to try to figure out what’s going on. I do. There’s a woman on the ground, a Sister of the Rose, being kicked and trampled by panicking and confused people who are packed too tightly to be able to see her. I plant myself over him, facing the oncoming crowd. I shove people to opposite sides as they approach. People are clearly confused and offended by it, but no one stops to ask questions. One man is so large that he nearly knocks me over even after I’ve shoved him. I can hear Oren struggling behind me. I hear a man talking to him and the shuffling of someone being hoisted off the ground, then I feel a hand pulling me by the scruff of my shirt and hear Oren telling me to follow him. He and another man have the nun held up between them, and are helping her toward the side of the road where there is a gap between the houses.

The man leads us inside a house that I assume is his. I close the door behind me, but no one is tempted to follow us inside. I think they’ve got the right idea. We should all keep running. We will never have put enough space between us and those creatures for my liking. We didn’t quite reach the mud flats, but we’re close. The houses here are flat, drab brick things as well, but newer and less run-down.

The nun grits her teeth and groans in pain as the men help her lie on the sofa. She's in bad shape. I wonder how long she was on the ground before Oren saw her. Her nose is bloody and her lip is split. She can't move one of her legs and the man has to move it for her. He props it up on pillows and that seems to hurt her less than any other position.

It is awful to see the state of this woman. The Sisters of the Rose are an ancient Naithien order devoted entirely to peace and acts of service. This woman doesn't look familiar to me, but I know numerous Sisters, and every one is unfailingly kind. The inhumanity of what fear makes of us turns my stomach again. I breathe slow and deep until the nausea subsides. When I look up again the other man is arguing with the nun. She doesn't want the liquid opium he's offering. I think she's insane. Her arm looks broken, and her leg might be just as bad.

"Willa, I am going to have to reset your bones, I’m not sure your ribs aren’t shattered. I promise you, you want to take this. She winces and lets out a painful sounding, defeated sigh. She opens her mouth and lets him pour a dose of it down her throat. She grimaces but in a few seconds she starts to look relaxed. She practically melts back onto the pillow.

The man turns to Oren and instructs him to hold Willa's arm completely steady while he sets the break. Willa stirs but only weakly.

"Right. It feels fairly clean." He leaves the room and returns with a medical bag that he props open next to the sofa. I watch with horror and fascination as he resets the nun's arm and wraps it tightly in a splint with two metal rods. Next he checks for a break in her leg. He finds none, but her knee is at an unnatural angle. He resets the joint with a sickening pop that, for some reason, makes my back teeth twinge.

After cleaning up the cuts on her face he's satisfied that he's done all he can for the nun. The man turns his attention to Oren's burns. He swears when he takes a good look at them. He leaves the room again, promising to be right back. Oren limps to a chair and leans against it rather than sitting. It occurs to me that I can relax also. So I sit. And it's only marginally more comfortable than standing. Now with my attention no longer tugged in any particular direction, the aching burn of my skin seems to light up as if I were still in the blast of the beast's flaming breath. My hands are the worst. I cant really process it all.

When the man returns, he tells Oren and me to follow him. He leads us down the hall to what seems to be his bedroom.

"You two alright sharing? It's gonna get mighty personal in here, getting those burns treated."

"Yeah" Oren and I say together with resignation. We were brought up in houses that were perpetually overcrowded. We can't afford much room in the city. Privacy is a luxury we haven't had the opportunity to get accustomed to, even in Marud. The man introduces himself as Eilif, and he hands me a jar of something greenish yellow. He tells me to strip and apply the stuff generously to my burns. I don't know if he hasn't noticed the burns on my hands or is implying that I should suck it up. I fumble with the jar, but I do get it open. He gives the same strip order to Oren, but being that Oren is significantly more messed up than I am, he gets much more of Eilif's attention. As I apply the pungent ointment to the burns on my arms, and it begins to cool the pain, I am more grateful than I know how to express that we've found ourselves being sheltered by a Healer.

Once the burns on the back of Oren's body have been covered in salve, he lies on the bed and lets Eilif convince him to drink the opium as well. It takes almost no convincing. When his face goes blank and he melts back onto the bed just like the nun did, I find myself feeling relieved. I just don't want him to suffer. And my god does it look like he's suffering.

"If you'd like" Eilif offers "I have clothes you can wear-“

"I don't want anything touching my skin" I say before he can finish his statement.

"Very understandable. Do you find yourself feeling able to assist me? This is your brother isn't it? What's his name?"

"Oren" I rasp.

"That's right. I've seen him around, we chat sometimes, never much more than small talk, but he's a good lad" Eilif says, perhaps to help me feel more comfortable. It works. "These burns... they're severe. I'm going to have to clean the wounds before I dress them. I will need help. Are you up to it?"

"Yes" I say without a second thought. The smoke and blood and charred skin on Oren's face and arms won't let my senses stop panicking. If I can help fix it, I will. I take some of the bandages and wrap my hands quickly.

The process is disgusting. I find myself repeatedly thanking whatever divine power there may be that opium exists, and that it's powerful enough to keep Oren asleep while inches-wide patches of his charred skin are peeled away from his body, leaving raw, far too tender flesh exposed. Eilif works gracefully. His practiced hands removing what would soon become rot, cleaning away the dirt and smoke and sweat and replacing it with disinfectant and salves and pure white bandages. When it's done, Eilif stretches and pops several of his own joints. Then he sighs and beckons me closer.

"I'm fine" I promise. He gives me a disapproving look, and steps closer to me. He checks under my hair and makes me turn about to so he can make sure I'm not broken or bleeding in some way he hasn't noticed yet.

"Fine. You're in much better shape than these two. But these hands will need a better bandage job than that. Let me see."

I let him re-bandage my hands. While he works he asks

"Did you see it?"

In my mind I see the immensity of the clawed, scaly foot clutching the crumbling wall of the library, the teeth and the powerful jaws breaking apart stone.

"Yeah. I saw it. One of them anyway... there are more... I don't know how many" the panic is rising in me again as I close my eyes, seeing it all so clearly. I don't notice I've started breathe erratically and sway until I feel Elif's hands on the unburned parts of my arms, holding me steady. It feels very reassuring.

"Do you want the opium as well?" He asks kindly "Not as much as the others, but enough to calm you." He offers. I am so exhausted but I know I'll never get to sleep with my skin like this. He has a generally trustworthy air about him, and I am too overwhelmed to be deeply concerned with whether or not I ever wake up. So I find myself nodding yes. The opium dreams are swirls of scales and talons and burnt flesh, but all the same my body is thankful for the rest.

When I wake up I'm not sure if it's been minutes or hours. It's daylight, but I'm not sure if it's the same daylight I fell asleep in. I listen for screaming, screeching, breaking. I don't hear much of anything. Oren is still asleep on the bed next to me. He stirs, but not much. There's a stack of neatly folded clothes next to my side of the bed. I put on what looks to be one of Eilif's shirts. It fits me like a dress.

I go out into the hallway and follow the sounds of a whispered argument.

"You are being silly." Eilif hisses.

"You are being an ass." Willa replies.

"You're in pain. Please take something."

"I can handle it."

"But why make yourself endure-"

Eilif looks up when I enter the room. His face changes from frustrated to pleased.

"How did you sleep?" He asks in a low voice.

"Yeah. Good." It's half a lie "Is it... did I sleep through the night?"

"Yes. Thank goodness." He looked like he wanted to go back to his argument with Willa, but he remembered to add "I'm keeping Oren on a steady regimen of opium until his skin has begun to heal. He really shouldn't move at all before the wounds have set. And burns like he's got... well..."

"Save the rest of it for him" Willa says with a note of finality. Eilif eyes her apprehensively, he clearly isn't done arguing. He breathes a deep sigh, and leaves the room to go check on Oren.

Willa smiles warmly at me. I see that she’s in one of Eilif’s shirts as well. She’s propped up on the sofa, looking bruised and puffy, but no longer dirty and pathetic. She gestures for me to sit in a large wooden arm chair opposite her. I sit, not knowing quite what to say or what to do with myself. She seems to want to avoid the subject of her argument with Eilif.

“The beasts” she begins, knowing that anyone in our position would want an update “haven’t seemed to be too interested in coming up this way. I can hear them from time to time, but they don’t sound any closer than they did yesterday.”

“Oren said.” I confirm vaguely. Willa cocks an eyebrow in interest. “Sorry” I shake my head, trying to sift through my thoughts “He said-when he came to get me-he said they were attacking buildings that catch the light.” Willa seems to be comparing that assessment to her memories of yesterday.

“Yes” she says with a far away look “Yes, that’s right. I watched them, two of them, ripping apart the temple dome like it were made of paper”. Her voice is as distant as her eyes.

There are numerous temples in Marud, most with dome structures of some kind, but when someone says ‘the Temple Dome’ they always mean the Grand Hall of Unity, the central holy structure in Marud, meant to be the peaceful gathering place for people of all faiths. Its grand, massive, golden dome is famous for its lavish construction. The roof tiles are made of actual gold, set with huge precious stones that act as colorful windows. To think of the dome being ripped apart by those things is too...big. It's too much. I cannot take in destruction on that scale.

"I know" Willa says, agreeing with the look on my face. "There's nothing quite like this is there? The helplessness" her voice shakes "I'm sorry" she apologizes with an attempt at a smile, and seems to be trying to steady her breathing. I hate this. It makes me angry.

"Stop that" I order her before I can think much more "don't... collect yourself" I say with a surprising amount of disdain "the world is ending. By the sounds of it, it's already over. Don't... calm yourself down for my benefit." When I say it, I suddenly recognize that I'm doing the same thing. I'm taking pains to steady my voice beyond the need to stay quiet.

Willa looks at me with something like approval and a touch of amusement.

"Thank you" she says, very genuinely "I needed someone to say that to me."

I think I know what she means. I think I feel it too, and that's why I needed to say it. But now I feel awful. What right do I have to scold this woman? We sit in silence that isn't exactly uncomfortable so much as it is uncertain until the burning in my skin picks up and I need to excuse myself to apply more salve.

This is largely how the next two days pass. We hear people sneaking down the road from time to time, escaping into the mountains. We only speak quietly, and we try not make much noise. It reminds me of mice hiding in walls. Eilif has a supply of food that would be plenty for one man on his own, but is dwindling fast between the four of us.

Every few hours, when the opium wears off, I carefully feed Oren the broth Eilif made for him so that he wouldn't have to chew. By the end of the third day he feels well enough to ask for bread. Eilif allows him to try, but it quickly proves to be a bad idea for his facial burns.

On the third night, when the three of us sit down for dinner in the front room Willa breaks the silence.

"We have to get out of the city. If we're going to live, and be useful to anyone, we've got to leave."

"I agree" Eilif says in a measured tone "but not anytime soon. You're in no fit state for a long journey, even if we had a horse. And that young man will be at constant risk of infection for days yet."

"Fine" Willa looks unhappy, but willing to admit that she's not up to the trek. "But we make a plan. And I'm sorry to ask it of you" she says to me "But you're the only one here who can... the only one who isn't too injured or" I hear the word she doesn't say. The word is 'needed' "... someone's got to go out for food. There won't be much, but maybe enough people left enough behind to-"

"I got it. I can do that." I interrupt her because I don't need convincing. I've been thinking it since yesterday, but I guess, like her, I needed someone else to say it. I needed someone else to be the one to tell me to go out and rob graves.

"I can do that" Eilif cuts in "the state of your hands-"

"Eilif... if one of those things gets to you. Who will help him?" She jerks her head toward the room where Oren is in a drugged sleep.

"I can do it." I insist. The burns are worst on my palms. My fingers are a little painful, but mostly useable. I've been able to manage the bathroom on my own anyway. More than can be said for the other two. It's lucky Eilif is a large man. I'm strong, but I'm not big enough to lift Oren.

I venture out the next day, wearing one of Eilif's shirts. Thankfully the aqueduct system has always been self sustaining, so we haven't run out of clean water to wash our clothes, but mine and Oren's have extensive burns and rips. I expect the water situation is different further down the mountain. There are random clumps of collapsed houses in spot where the beats must have landed. The shoes Willa lent me are too big for me and they impede my stealth quite a bit, but's quiet out here. I can't hear anything except the occasional distant sound from one of the beasts in the city center. The roads are completely deserted. I don't even encounter many bodies. But there are a few bodies, mostly people who fell and met the fate that certainly would've awaited Willa. It's grisly. I briefly stop and stare at a crumpled heap that used to be a person, and wonder how I'm not falling apart. I recognize that the grim sight should fold me. But it just doesn't. Then a racket that sounds like a scuffle between two of the beasts draws me to end of the road.

I can see them from here, even though they're miles away. They're in the valley, and I'm on the mountain, looking at one of the most famous views of the city. It looks how it sounds. The two beasts are both gripping some shredded scrap of gilt metal and screeching wildly at each other, flapping hugely, pulling in opposite directions. The sight is so catastrophic, so tragic, and so stupid that I can't help but laugh. It's all too big to take in. So I don't. I don't try to take it in, I just stare blankly at it for another moment. Then I turn up the road and push on the nearest door, because we need food.

The door creaks open easily enough. There isn't much inside; empty cupboards, empty drawers. These people had the wherewithal to pack before they left. Damn. The next house is locked, but I peek through the slatted wooden window coverings and it looks empty. I trust that the sound of cracking wood will be no competition for the bickering beasts squawks, and I elbow the wood shutters open. This turns out to be a marvelously painful choice due to the still healing burns on my arms. I suck it up and climb through the window. This house is so untouched that I start to think someone must still be inside... I wonder if the body I feel bound to encounter will be alive or dead.

I see fresh fruit on the counter and I make a mental note to come back to it when I've checked the rooms. It looks like there are only two off the hall. As I approach the door of the first one I hear movement. I speak softly, and hear the movement stop abruptly.

"Hello? If anyone is in there... un... I'm not here to mess with you" I say weakly. I don't hear anything else so I wait for several seconds. Then when I hear the movement again, it doesn't sound like a human. I open the door and step back quickly, ready to defend myself with a chair if need be. But the creature that emerges from the dark room is an old, shy sheepdog. He looks at me like he's worried I'll be cross with him. He approaches me slowly, head down, tail between his legs. It pulls at my heart. I always wanted a dog, but it was never an option growing up. I speak softly to him, asking him questions he obviously isn't going to answer. But it helps him trust me. He lets me stroke his head, and he eventually licks my hand. Once we've decided we're friends I check the inside of the room. It's mostly dark but for one tiny window. Inside the room it becomes immediately clear that this dog has been trapped for days. The neat little piles of poo in the corner explain why he was expecting the person who found him to be cross with him.

"Poor guy" I say, looking from the mess to the dog. He bows his head again and faces the other way. It tugs at my heart to see him do that, and to know that the person he so badly wants not to disappoint is never coming back. The woman, judging by her clothes, seems to have been about Willa's size. I grab some practical looking clothes, some shoes, just in case they fit either of us, and the food from the kitchen. When I go, the dog doesn't exactly follow me. He waits in the doorway and watches me slip into the next few houses. I find some more useful looking clothes, some candles, some medicine, and a hopeful amount of food.

When I'm four houses down, I cut a few pieces off the dried sausage I found in the last house and kneel to offer it to the dog, who is still watching me. He seems conflicted about coming out of his house, but he makes his way over, slowly. I set the pieces of sausage down and he eats them with the urgency you'd expect from someone who hasn't eaten in days. After that he follows me, sniffing at the food bag the whole way.

When I get back to Eilif's house the dog is hesitant to follow me inside. Willa watches me leave the door ajar and take one of Eilif's bowls to fill it with water. I place it next to the table and promise the dog that it's alright to come in. Willa looks uneasily at the open door, but she doesn't protest. Finally when the old dog decides it's alright to come inside, Willa looks relieved to see the door shut and locked. I don't mention that it would make no difference to the beasts if the door were barricaded.

Willa calls the dog over in a singsongy voice and scratches him above his tail. He's still a little generally trepidatious, but he does adopt a wide stance and close his eyes in delight. I empty my food bag and put things away. I fill a bowl with food for the dog, which he eats gratefully and urgently.

"I think I've found clothes that'll fit all three of us so we can give Eilif his wardrobe back."

"He'll be pleased, I'm sure. I'll be pleased if you've found some trousers I can wear."

I toss her the ones I think will fit. She's mobile enough now to be able to try them on, if not yet to walk about in them. Two of them are a success. The last is too narrow in the hips, and I save them for Oren. The shoes were obviously made for other people, but the pair I took for myself fit well enough.

I pack one of the bags I found with all of the things I stole for Oren. He'll be glad of presents when he wakes. I go into our room and visit him. Eilif is changing his bandages. The wounds are still ugly, but they look miles better than they did the first time I saw them.

"I think we can start easing him off the opium tomorrow." Eilif says "Which is good because I'm running low. Didn't happen to find any of that while you were out, did you?"

I hand him the two, half empty bottles that I did find, along with a few bandages. He thanks me.

"Got a little food too. Not lots, but I can go back out tomorrow. Those things don't seem to care much about anything that doesn't shine."

"Really?" He asks me, not disbelieving of me so much as the behavior of the creatures. "That is odd. They are exceedingly uncanny. And I mean..." he trails off for a second and looks deeply confused "what the hell are they?" He asks the question not so much to me as to the air.

"Have you seen one yet? Good view from the end of the road."

"Yes, I saw. I went and watched them yesterday at sunrise. It riles them up for some reason. It's just the oddest behavior. I can't wrap my mind around it."

That night, we cook the last of our fresh meat over the fire. So much of the city is a still a burning, smoking ruin that we don't worry about smoke. The dog, who Willa has started calling Walter, is lounging peacefully on the rug. Eilif didn't seem to mind that I brought a dog home. He simply greeted him, and went to add the medicines to his own stash. In the middle of an otherwise quiet meal (our habit thus far) Eilif says

"I've been thinking. The Smuggler's Square is how we get out."

"I thought that collapsed." Willa replies.

"No" Eilif says "well, yes. Some of it did" he amends "Some of it was always going to, but a lot of it is still standing. I'd bet anything that's how most of the city got out."

"Assuming they did get out." I add.

"Assuming they did get out" he concedes.

"And you know of paths that won't have collapsed?" Willa asks, looking both hopeful and skeptical.

"I believe I do, yeah."

"What is the smugglers square?" I ask both of them.

"It's been defunct for decades... unnecessary for over a century, really. It's a man made cave system-a city-inside the mountains. It was in use for a hundred years or so. Smugglers getting their wares into the city untaxed, needing somewhere to stay and somewhere to sell. It's a sort of open secret."

I do not love the sound of this. It sounds like a death trap.

"Half the city think it's a myth. The rest of us thought it caved in years ago." Willa added.

"As I say, bits of it have caved in. There was an entrance two blocks down until ten years ago, but that's been destroyed. Took most of the houses with it when it collapsed. But there is an entry in the park..."

"Which park?" Willa says as if she already knows the answer and doesn't approve of it.

"Gemmer Park." He answers ruefully.

Gemmer park is in the city center. Gemmer park is nothing like a safe option. But I look at Willa's splinted arm and wobbly leg and I don't feel much more hopeful about going over the mountains than I do about going under them. At minimum, I'll need to do more grave robbing.