“For whoever came back. So they would know what happened here.”

He sat quietly, uncertain what to say. Alicia had been right about one thing: all his life, since the day he had come out of the Sanctuary, he had wondered why the world was what it was. But learning the truth had solved nothing.

Amy’s stuffed rabbit was still on the table; he took it in his hand. “Do you think she remembers it?”

“What they did to her? I do not know. Perhaps she does.”

“No, I meant before. Being a girl.” He searched for the words. “Being human.”

“I think that she has always been human.”

He waited for Lacey to say more, and when she didn’t, he put the rabbit aside.

“What’s it like, living forever?”

She gave a sudden laugh. “I do not think that I will live forever.”

“But he gave you the virus. You’re like her. Like Amy.”

“There is no one like Amy, Peter.” She shrugged. “But if you are asking what it has been like for me all these years, since Jonas died, I will say that it has been very lonely. It surprises me how much.”

“You miss him, don’t you?”

He instantly regretted saying this; a look of sadness swept over her face, like the shadow of a bird crossing a field.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

But she shook her head. “No, it is perfectly all right that you should ask. It is difficult to talk about him like this, after so long. But the answer is yes. I do miss him. I should think it a wonderful thing to be missed, the way that I miss him.”

For a while they sat in silence, bathed in the glow of the fire. Peter wondered if Alicia was thinking about him, where she was now. He had no idea if he would see her, or any of them, again.

“I don’t know… what I’m doing, Lacey,” he said finally. “I don’t know what to do with any of this.”

“You found your way here. That is something. That is a beginning.”

“What about Amy?”

“What about her, Peter?”

But he wasn’t sure what he was asking. The question was what it was: What of Amy?

“I thought… ” He sighed and drew his gaze away, toward the room where Amy slept. “Listen to me. I don’t know what I thought.”

“That you could defeat them? That you would find the answer here?”

“Yes.” He returned his eyes to Lacey. “I didn’t even know I was thinking it, until just now. But yes.”

Lacey appeared to be studying him, though what she was looking for, Peter couldn’t say. He wondered if he was as crazy as he sounded. Probably he was.

“Tell me, Peter. Do you know the story of Noah? Not Project NOAH. Noah the man.”

The name was nothing he knew. “I don’t think so.”

“It is an old story. A true story. I think it will be some help to you.” Lacey rose a little in her chair, her face suddenly animated. “So. A man named Noah was asked by God to build a ship, a great ship. This was long ago. Why would I build a ship, Noah asked. It is a sunny day, I have other things to do. Because this world has grown wicked, God said to him, and it is my intention to send a flood of water to destroy it, and drown every living thing. But you, Noah, are a man righteous in your generation, and I will save you and your family if you do as I command, building this ship to carry yourselves and every species of animal, two of every kind. And do you know what Noah did, Peter?”

“He built the ship?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course he did! But not right away. That, you see, is the interesting part of the story. If Noah had simply done as he was told, the story wouldn’t mean anything at all. No. He was afraid that people would make fun of him. He was afraid he would build the ship and the flood wouldn’t come and he would look like a fool. God was testing him, you see, to find out if there was anyone who made the world worth saving. He wanted to see if Noah was up to the job. And in the end, he was. He built the ship, and the heavens opened, and the world was washed away. For a long time, Noah and his family floated on the waters. It seemed they had been forgotten, that a terrible joke had been played on them. But after many days, God remembered Noah, and sent him a dove to lead them to dry land, and the world was reborn.” She gave her hands a quiet clap of satisfaction. “There. You see?”

He didn’t, not at all. It reminded him of the fables Teacher had read to them in circle, stories of talking animals that always ended in a lesson. Pleasant to listen to, and maybe not wrong, but in the end too easy, something for children.

“You do not believe me? That is all right. One day you will.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Peter managed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… it’s only a story.”

“Perhaps.” She shrugged. “And perhaps someday someone will say those very words about you, Peter. What do you say to that?”

He didn’t know. It was late, or early; the night was almost gone. Despite all he had learned, he felt more puzzled than when it had begun.

“So, for the sake of argument,” he said, “if I’m supposed to be Noah, then who’s Amy?”

Lacey’s face was incredulous. She seemed about to laugh. “Peter, I am surprised at you. Perhaps I did not tell it right.”

“No, you told it fine,” he assured her. “I just don’t know.”

She leaned forward in her chair and smiled again-one of her strange, sad smiles, full of belief.

“The ship, Peter,” said Lacey. “Amy is the ship.”

Peter was still trying to make sense of this mysterious answer when Lacey seemed to startle. Frowning sharply, she darted her eyes around the room.

“Lacey? What’s wrong?”

But she seemed not to have heard him. She briskly pushed away from the table.

“I have gone on too long, I’m afraid. It will be light soon. Go and wake her now, and gather your things.”

He was taken aback, his mind still drifting in the night’s strange currents. “We’re leaving?”

He rose to discover Amy standing in the doorway to the bedroom, her dark hair wild and askew, the curtain shifting behind her. Whatever had affected Lacey had affected her also; her face was lit with a sudden urgency.

“Lacey-” Amy began.

“I know. He will try to be here before daybreak.” Drawing on her cloak, Lacey gave her insistent gaze to Peter once more. “Hurry now.”

The peace of the night was suddenly banished, replaced by a sense of emergency his mind could not seem to grasp. “Lacey, who are you talking about? Who’s coming?”

But then he looked at Amy, and he knew.

Babcock.

Babcock was coming. “Quickly, Peter.”

“Lacey, you don’t understand.” He felt weightless, benumbed. He had nothing to fight with, not even a blade. “We’re totally unarmed. I’ve seen what he can do.”

“There are weapons more powerful than guns and knives,” the woman replied. Her face held no fear, only a sense of purpose. “It is time for you to see it.”

“See what?”

“What you came to find,” said Lacey. “The passage.”

SIXTY-EIGHT

Peter in darkness: Lacey was leading them away from the house, into the woods. A frigid wind was blowing through the trees, a ghostly moaning. A rind of moon had ascended, bathing the scene in a trembling light, making the shadows lurch and sway around him. They ascended a ridge and descended another. The snow was deep here, blown into drifts with a hard carapace of crust. They were on the south side of the mountain now; Peter heard, below him, the sound of the river.

He felt it before he saw it: a vastness of space opening before him, the mountain falling away. He reached out reflexively to find Amy, but she was gone. The edge could be anywhere; one wrong step and the darkness would swallow him.

“This way,” Lacey called from ahead. “Hurry, hurry.”

He followed the sound of her voice. What he thought was a sheer drop was actually a rocky decline, steep but passable. Amy was already moving down the twisting path. He took a breath of icy air, willing his fear away, and followed.