by Jay Posey
“You sound pretty sure.”
“I am.”
Swoop just stared Painter down with that look of his, the one that kind of made you feel like you were lucky that he was still allowing you to live. And then his eyes slid over to Wren, like Painter wasn’t even part of the conversation anymore. Or even in the room.
“What’s going on?”
Painter had already blown any chance they had of convincing Swoop they weren’t really planning to go anywhere further than the gate. And there was no way Wren could come up with a lie that Swoop would believe. So Wren sighed and did the thing he didn’t want to do. He told the truth.
Wren did his best to explain what he believed was happening with Asher and Underdown’s machine, the path he planned to take, and why he didn’t want the others to try to come back with him. If everyone returned, Wren was sure there’d be a fight. The guards might even attack them on sight. But if it was just him, he felt sure that they wouldn’t do anything worse than lock him up somewhere, probably in the governor’s compound. And maybe once he explained what was happening to the Weir, they’d understand their own danger. If not, well, at least he’d be close enough to the machine to try to do what he needed to. And if Asher came for him, at least Mama would be safe.
Swoop listened to everything Wren had to say without any noticeable emotion. When he was finished, Swoop continued to look at him for a long moment.
Then, “You really think there’s something you can do.” It sounded like a statement, but it was a question. Wren nodded. “It’s a terrible plan.”
“Wick says a plan is just a list of stuff that never happens anyway.”
Swoop cracked a half-smile at that. He actually seemed to be thinking about what Wren had said. That was more than Wren had hoped for. He decided to push.
“If you’ve ever thought of me as your governor, Swoop, please believe me now. I have to go back. Let us go.”
Swoop worked his jaw. “You givin’ me an order?”
“I’m asking you.”
Swoop shook his head. “Are you giving me an order, sir?”
It still took Wren a second to understand what he was saying. And then he got it. “Oh. Yes. I order you to let us go.”
Swoop nodded.
“Gamble, Swoop,” he said. “…No, everything’s fine. Just wanted to let you know Painter and the governor are with me… Yeah, check. I’ll explain later.”
He’d said it so casually Wren wasn’t exactly sure what he’d meant. “So, you’re going to let us go?”
“I’m gonna take you there myself.”
“No, Swoop, you can’t…” Wren started, but Swoop raised his eyebrows and gave him a look that made him stop mid-sentence.
“Give me five minutes to gear up.”
“Swoop, I don’t know what they’ll do to you if you go back. And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop it.”
He shook his head. “That’s my home,” Swoop said. “Earned in blood. I don’t reckon anybody has say over whether I get to keep it.” He held up his hand with all five fingers up. “Five minutes.”
Swoop headed out of the entryway back down the hall with his aggressive pace. Painter and Wren stood awkwardly waiting, neither really sure what had just happened or what it would mean. Wren had to admit he felt a lot better about the trip, knowing Swoop would be along too. And maybe he’d be able to convince Swoop to hang back as they got closer to Morningside, at least long enough for Wren to get an idea of what might happen.
It didn’t even take a full five minutes before Swoop was back and all geared up.
“Governor,” he said. “After you.”
Wren led the way out through the door of the building. As they stepped outside, the morning air chilled Wren almost instantly. The sky above was steel grey and heavy with clouds, and there was a stillness to the air that made Wren think of snow. Their breaths came out in cloudy puffs. Wren pulled up his hood and jammed his hands in his coat pocket.
“Your mama’s gonna kill me,” Swoop said.
“And me,” Painter said.
“I assume you got a plan for the gates?” Swoop asked.
Wren nodded and stepped towards them. They were large and heavy, but the locks that held them fast were simple encoded devices, easy to see. Wren stretched out through the digital and unlocked them. Painter pushed the first open, and then closed it behind them. Swoop got the second.
“Make sure you lock ’em back,” Swoop said as they passed through. Wren didn’t even need to turn around to do it. Together, with Wren leading the way, the three of them set out into the cold grey dawn.
TWENTY-THREE
Once they’d gotten a few minutes out from the refuge, Wren shared the route information he’d learned from Wick with Swoop. The path took them almost due east for a number of miles, to an old bridge called the Windspan. Wren didn’t know why it was named that, just that it was supposed to be big. Swoop didn’t like the idea.
Wick had mentioned that it wasn’t a good area, but he hadn’t specified why, and Wren had been too afraid to ask what he meant. After Swoop explained why, Wren was even more relieved that Swoop had come with them. The northern end of the bridge, where they’d be starting their journey across, was apparently a known thoroughfare for scrapers and other kinds of people that none of them wanted to meet.
Swoop wanted to find a different route, but it didn’t take long for him to realize the Windspan really was the best option. At least, in the sense that it seemed to be the only option if they wanted to make the trip in a single day. After that, they didn’t spend much time talking. Swoop took over leading the way, and Wren was glad to have someone else to follow.
Even though he had done his best to prepare himself for what the day would bring, Wren couldn’t stop thinking about having left Mama behind. He’d had to say goodbye to her once before, but he hadn’t had any choice back then. Now, with each step taking him further and further away from her, his throat and chest tightened. At least she would be safe, or safer anyway, apart from him. He guessed he himself would be the target of Asher’s fury, and maybe that would make everything OK for Mama. He was glad he had his hood up, so the others couldn’t see him cry.
And he hated himself for the tears. They made him feel stupid and weak. He wanted so desperately to be brave, and to never show emotions, like Swoop. Like Three. For all his ideas of returning to Morningside and fighting some battle against Asher, the reality of the cold, and the walk, and the growing loneliness were all so much harder to face than he’d expected. They’d only been gone maybe twenty minutes. Already he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought he could do it. It had seemed so much easier to picture his brave return when he’d been warm in bed, with Mama close at hand.
His weakness appalled him. Now he knew without a doubt that if he had been able to sneak out on his own, he would’ve turned back. But he wasn’t on his own. And if he wasn’t brave enough to go on, at least he was too ashamed to quit in front of Painter and Swoop.
He kept his head down and his eyes focused on Swoop’s feet in front of him.
Still they continued on in silence. Swoop set a hard enough pace that Wren didn’t feel like he’d be able to talk a whole lot while he tried to keep up anyway. But there was something else, too. The heavy sky, the stillness of the morning, the chill air that bit cheeks and fingers, all of it made speaking seem out of place. It was gradually becoming lighter, though the sun never appeared anywhere Wren could see it.
For the first hour or so, Wren kept thinking his body would warm up to all the walking and he wouldn’t feel so sluggish. But after a while he started to realize that he wasn’t feeling any better, and wasn’t likely to any time soon. The first journey out from Morningside had been tough enough. The trip out to Ninestory and back, with all of its fresh terror, was another matter. The anxiety and adrenaline of the fight, the flight back to the refuge under constant fear of pursuit, the death of Elan, and the close call with Wick. It had left Wren feeling comple
tely empty.
And then there was Asher – he was like a great black storm cloud haunting Wren’s every thought. Wren still didn’t know what exactly he was going to do when he got to Morningside, what he expected to find inside the machine, or how he would even begin to challenge Asher. But Three had told Wren that whenever he didn’t know what to do, he should always trust his gut. And his gut said he should go to Morningside.
Even while everything else in him was screaming to turn around and go back.
Cass woke with a start and sat up, gasping for breath, heart hammering in her chest. She had no idea what had woken her. A dream maybe, though she couldn’t remember it. It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings and get her bearings. Once she did, though, she settled onto her back and tried to gather herself. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders relax and waited for her head to clear.
Everything felt just a little off. Soft around the edges. Blurred. Her vision, her thoughts, even her movement. Whatever Mouse had dosed her with had had plenty of time to clear. Maybe her injuries had been worse than Cass had initially thought.
A sudden paranoid thought leapt to her mind. What if that was how it began? What if Asher was already at work, trying to gain control over her? Regain control. He’d had it once. Would that make it easier for him to do again? She shuddered at the thought.
No. Her mind was her own. It was true that Asher had once directed her, when she had been enslaved by the Weir. But Wren had freed her. That connection had surely been severed. She closed her eyes for a few moments, steadied herself.
Lil had graciously offered to let them stay at the refuge as long as they cared to, though she’d made no comment as to how much longer her own people were planning to stay.
Cass had decided they’d remain until Mouse was satisfied with Wick’s condition. Hopefully that would give them enough time to figure out their next move. There was little doubt they would have to confront the situation in Morningside at some point. But she didn’t want to walk blindly back into it.
When the news had first come of their exile, it had seemed earth-shattering. Now, in light of their uncovering of Asher, it was by comparison a petty distraction. A squabble in the face of doom. But Cass knew Asher far too well to pretend that Morningside would be safe from his vengeance. It had been the place of his destruction. He would bend all of his will to see pain revisited upon its populace, whether she and Wren were there or not.
Cass opened her eyes and then, with a deep breath, eased herself up to a sitting position and dropped her legs over the edge of the bed. The concrete was cold under her bare feet. She rolled her neck around, tested her shoulder. Every muscle felt tight. She’d probably spent more time in bed in the past two days than she had in the weeks previous.
The room was still gloomy in the weak morning light, though the sun had been up for a good couple of hours by that point. Cass got up and dressed. Might as well go see what everyone else was up to.
She opened the door and, just as she was about to pass through, something made her stop. She glanced down at the spot where Wren’s pack had been earlier that morning, before he’d taken it. There’d been something else there with it. Something Cass hadn’t paid attention to before, something that now seemed important.
His coat.
Cass glanced around the room quickly, at his bed, under it, on the table in the corner. There was no sign of anything of Wren’s. And her heart skipped.
“Wren,” she pimmed. Waited for a response. Tried again. “Wren!” Seconds ticked by. Plenty of time for a reply, if one was coming.
“Gamble,” Cass called as she stepped into the hall. “Gamble!”
A few moments later a door opened behind her, and Mouse poked his head out into the hall.
“Hey, Cass,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Wren?”
“Not this morning, no.”
“Where’s Gamble?”
Mouse shook his head and shrugged. “Something wrong?”
“Wren’s gone.” A flood of emotion hit her, as if her words had transformed it from suspicion to certainty.
“What do you mean gone?”
“I mean, gone, Mouse. He left.” Cass crossed the hall and knocked loudly on Painter’s closed door.
“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere…” Mouse said, coming out into the hall.
“Painter, you in there?” Cass said through the door. She didn’t really wait for a response before she threw it open. The room was empty. Even the bed was made.
“Gamble, this is Mouse. You got a sec?”
Cass’s mind started putting little pieces together that confirmed her fears. His comment the night before about how Wren might not see her much because he was going to spend some time with Elan’s son, Ephraim. The long hug he’d given her when he’d woken her this morning. The conversation she’d interrupted between him and Wick, discussing their current location relative to other places. She raced through the scenarios. Knowing Wren, knowing the situation… Cass left Painter’s room and went to Wick’s, swung the door open. He was still lying propped up on a pile of pillows, and his eyes sprang open when Cass came in.
“Did you plot a route to Morningside out for my son?” Cass asked. It sounded angrier coming out than she’d meant for it to, but given the circumstances, she didn’t really care.
Wick blinked back at her. “Do what now?”
“Did you give Wren a route to Morningside?”
He shook his head, confusion clear on his face. “No, of course not. Why? What’s going on?”
Cass couldn’t decide if that should be a relief or not. If he wasn’t headed to Morningside, that was better than she’d feared, but it also meant she had no idea where he might be going.
“She thinks Wren might’ve left,” Mouse said from the doorway.
“He’s with Swoop,” came Gamble’s voice from outside, somewhere down the hall.
“Well, he was asking about where we were…” Wick trailed off as he thought it through. “No, wait.” He looked up at Cass with sudden concern. “I thought he was just making conversation, keeping me company.”
“And what?” Cass asked.
“I did tell him the fastest way. Over the Windspan.”
Cass moved back towards the hall and found Gamble standing there with Sky and Finn. Mouse hovered nearby.
“Where’s Swoop?” Cass asked.
“I just talked to him a little bit ago,” Gamble said. “Wren’s with him and he’s fine. Painter’s with him too.”
“Where, Gamble?”
Gamble held up her hand as if to calm Cass, and Cass knew then without a doubt that Wren was making his way back to Morningside. It seemed to Cass that Gamble and her team were ringing her in on purpose.
“They left early this morning,” Gamble said. “Wren thinks there’s something he can do to stop Asher. Something with Underdown’s machine.”
That was a twofold blow. Not only was he returning to the city without her, he was going back to the governor’s compound, back to the very heart of all the madness in the city. All to confront his brother, no less.
“And you let him go?” Cass asked.
“We didn’t have a choice, Cass. By the time Swoop called it in, they were already miles out.”
“You should’ve woken me!”
Gamble shook her head. “There was no reason to.”
“No reason? I’m his mother! I would never have let him go!”
“Exactly. But he had to.”
“That’s not your decision to make!”
“It’s not yours either,” Gamble answered, with force. Her voice was becoming harder, more direct, but no louder.
“He’s just a boy!”
“No, Cass, he’s not. He’s the Governor. Like it or not, you don’t get to ignore his authority just because you’re his mother.” The words stung.
“You’re telling me he ordered you to let him go, and you allowed it?”
; “He was trying to sneak out on his own. Swoop went with him. He’s thinking about you, Cass. He’s worried for your safety. And so are we.”
Cass started forward into the hall. “I’m going after him.”
“Cass, no, you can’t.”
Gamble put her hand on Cass’s shoulder to stop her. In a flash of rage and reflex, Cass snatched Gamble by her vest – using both hands – and flung her. She didn’t mean to throw her that hard.
As it was, Gamble’s feet left the ground as she catapulted into the wall. Her back impacted flat, her arms spread to catch herself, but she was tilted at an awkward angle and off balance, and crashed down hard on one knee. In a blink Gamble was on her feet and headed straight at Cass – but Mouse caught her, and Finn grabbed Sky, who looked like he was about to take Cass’s head off himself.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mouse said. “Let’s not eat our own here. We’re all on the same side.”
“Are we?” Cass asked. “Your job is to protect my son, our governor. And you’re all here – doing what?”
“Protecting you,” Finn said.
“Well, I don’t need it.”
Gamble controlled herself, and Mouse released her, though he kept himself angled between the two women.
“We’re not going to let you go on your own,” Gamble said.
“You’re not letting me do anything,” Cass answered. “But I am going. I doubt you’d be able to keep up anyway.”
Gamble stared back at Cass for a long span. Cass held herself ready, uncertain about anyone else’s intent at that point. If anyone else grabbed her, though, she wasn’t going to hold back. Gamble’s shoulders finally lowered, and she took a step towards the wall, clearing the way for Cass to pass by. Cass pushed through to her room without another word.
Wren felt a soft touch on his cheek just under his eye that made him flinch and brought his attention back to the world around him. He’d lost himself in the rhythm of their ceaseless steps, for some unknown amount of time. It took him several seconds to figure out what had touched him, but as he glanced around at their surroundings, he finally got a glimpse of something drifting on the meager wind.
