by Jay Posey
“I know it don’t change nothin’,” he said. “But I am sorry for hurtin’ you, Cass. For all of it.”
She nodded. And for some reason, an old dusty box on the workbench caught her eye. It looked like rifle ammunition. Cass nodded towards the rifle.
“Didn’t know you were much of a shooter.”
“Was, back in the day,” Aron said. “Been a long time.” He smiled and gazed down at the weapon, and rested his hand lovingly on it. “She looks like a sweetheart, but she hits like an angry drunk.”
“What’s she shoot?”
Aron flipped up the lid on the old box, and pulled out a large shell. He held it up for Cass to see.
“Thirty kilojoules,” he said. “You ever seen anything that mean before?”
“I have,” Cass said. “Got any extra?”
Aron looked puzzled and a little taken aback. “I don’t know about extra,” he said, “but how many you need?”
“How about three?”
There were still plenty in the box. He took out two more shells and handed her the three hefty rounds.
“Don’t lose ’em,” he said. “They don’t make ’em much anymore.”
Cass slipped them into a pocket.
“I’ll be sure to keep my eye on where I put them.”
She gave him a parting nod and left him to his work.
Wren’s room was small, but nicely furnished, with a bed, a couple of chairs, a table, a desk, and a small lamp that glowed with a warm orange, almost like firelight. They had brought him dinner, and Joris had stayed with him while he ate. But that had been a couple of hours ago, and no one had come by since.
Outside, night had fallen completely, and Wren had been growing increasingly anxious as darkness closed in, wondering if perhaps tonight would be the night that Asher would make himself known. But now as Wren sat quietly on his bed, he could hear no calls or cries from the Weir. At first he’d wondered if he’d been placed in a room where the windows were too thick to hear any noises of the night. Then he’d heard the low murmur of occasional voices in the courtyard and known that the silence of the Weir was genuine.
But, strangely, the air seemed heavy. Wren didn’t really know how else to describe it. It was like the night itself had weight, and was pressing down on all the city. Even when he tried to stretch out through the digital, it took more effort. He had made several more attempts to connect to the machine, and had each time had the same result. The signal was just too complex for him to hold on to.
Wren’s body was overwhelmingly tired from the day, but his mind was too active. He was just thinking about trying to see if he could fall asleep anyway, when there was a gentle knock at the door. It seemed strange for someone to knock on his door, given the fact that he couldn’t open it himself. Or rather, he could if he wanted to risk it, but he knew that would very likely invite the wrath of the three guards they had posted outside. The Council was too well aware of his talent for locks.
“You can come in,” Wren said.
The door clicked, and the handle turned; when the door opened there was a hulking frame behind it. North.
“Hello, Wren,” he said, stepping into the room. “May I join you?”
“Sure.”
North bowed his head slightly, and then closed the door behind him.
“I can’t stay long,” he said. “But I wanted you to know that I am sorry for how things have gone.”
“OK. Are you going to let me go then?”
North gave a small smile and shook his head. “Not at this time. But you should know that not all is at it appears.” He stepped closer, as if someone might be listening in. “Is what you said about your brother true?”
“Yes.”
North paused in thought. Then he nodded to himself. “I will see what I can do about getting you access to the machine. If not tomorrow, the next day.”
“There may not be a next day,” Wren said.
“The walls are strong, little one,” North said. “We need not fear the Weir.”
Wren shook his head. “You’re wrong, North. You don’t understand.”
“I know these are hard times. But you are young and have seen fewer of them than I have. We’ll find our way through, you’ll see.”
Wren thought for a moment about trying to explain, trying to describe to North what he had seen, and felt, and what it meant. But he knew it would be useless. North was right, he had seen many more difficulties than Wren had. And he had been blinded by them, thinking that this was no different than anything he had faced before. And Wren didn’t know how to convince him otherwise.
“Can I ask you something?” Wren said.
“Of course.”
“Why did you order us exiled? I thought you were our friend.”
“I was, and I am,” North said. He seemed hurt by the implication that he would be otherwise. “I know it is hard to understand. But at the time, issuing that order was the only way I could warn you. I didn’t know whether it would keep you away, or if it would cause you to return. But either way I knew it would tell you something was wrong. And I hoped your isolation would make you harder to find for those who may have been looking.”
Wren didn’t know whether to believe him or not. It made some sense. If Wren believed him.
“I must go,” North said. “But I will make every effort to help you gain access to the machine.”
“Tomorrow,” Wren said.
North nodded. “Or the next day.” The big man bowed his head again, and then knocked twice on the door. “Rest now,” he said. “You still have friends in this city.”
The guards opened the door from the outside, and with a final nod, North was gone. The guards closed the door, and Wren heard the lock click into place. Prisoner in a place he had once called home.
He didn’t know what to make of all North had said. Little of it mattered at this point. They didn’t seem to understand how the affairs of the Council were meaningless in the face of what Wren feared was to come.
But there was nothing more he could do for now. He got up and switched off the lamp, and then lay down on his bed. Wren closed his eyes and listened for the cries of the Weir that should have been there, and weren’t.
TWENTY SIX
It was midmorning when Cass gained entrance to the compound. She had walked up to the gates and caused quite a stir amongst the guards posted there. Some wanted to arrest her and take her before the Council immediately, while others were convinced that to do so would be to fall into her trap. None of those could actually explain what exactly her trap might be, but they were convinced it was both devious and deadly.
At length, a captain had been called out, and after he assured the others that he would assume all responsibility, he bound her hands behind her and, with a contingent of six others to back him up, led her to the new seat of power.
Cass kept calm and let them guide her where they would. She had expected to go to the Council Room, and so was surprised when they led her down to the old throne room. They kept her waiting in the hall. The guards were careful to keep their distance.
When they finally let her in, Vye, Hondo, and North were seated on their thrones – and Wren was with them.
“Mama!” he said, and he ran to her and hugged her waist. She bent forward and pressed her cheek to the top of his head before one of the guards separated them.
“Are you OK, baby?”
“I’m fine, Mama, are you?” Wren asked.
She nodded, relieved to see her son looking so well. It was almost too much for her at that moment. She hadn’t expected to see him, at least not yet, and she was thrown off momentarily. Wren was dressed in fresh clothes, and he looked cleaner than she’d seen him in days. His hands were free, though two guards were clearly assigned to stay near him.
“We thought you’d want to see your son,” Vye said. “He’s being treated very well.”
“And so here we are, gathered again,” Hondo said. There was an edge in his voice, and an
arrogance. “And I suppose you’ve come here to challenge our claim to authority.”
“Not at all,” Cass said.
“Oh?” Hondo said. “Then to what do we owe the honor of your presence?”
“I’ve come to ask for your mercy.”
Hondo’s eyes narrowed, and Vye glanced over at him, and then back at Cass.
“What did you have in mind, Lady Cass?” Vye asked.
“That you show mercy to the people you’ve sworn to protect,” Cass answered. “I understand that you have a plan underway to move a number of people outside the wall. I’ve come to beg you not to do so. You would be sending them all to certain death.”
“Despite what you may think,” Hondo said, “we aren’t monsters. We also have a plan for the guard to provide protection. They’ll take care of any Weir that may stray too close.”
“It won’t be enough.”
“The Weir haven’t come in any number for a long time.”
“They attacked the gate less than a week ago,” Cass said.
“And it was repelled. They haven’t returned since.”
“Please, North,” she said, looking at him. “There is an attack coming. On a scale that you cannot imagine. If you prepare now, the city may weather it. But if you waste your time forcing people out in the open, I believe we will all be destroyed.”
“Your son already tried this tactic,” Hondo said. “It sounds very noble, returning not for power, but for the greater good. But you should be careful setting yourself up as a savior for a people who may not receive you as such.”
“Hondo, don’t be a fool. I know what you’ve done. I know how this Council conspired against my son. But this isn’t a game for power.”
“It’s always a game for power,” he said. “And I know you’re upset with how things have turned out. But trying to cause a panic now doesn’t help anyone.”
“That’s funny, coming from a man who went out of his way to stir up trouble for the rightful governor.”
“There was already trouble. We may have accelerated the process on occasion, but it was underway before we ever got involved.”
“It’s not like you think, Cass,” Vye said. “We just wanted to get ahead of it. To make sure we could control it. Otherwise the city would’ve eventually torn itself apart.”
“The sentiment was always there,” Hondo said. “It just needed a little push.”
Cass thought she’d prepared herself for this confrontation, but she was aghast at the absolute lack of remorse they showed.
“People died so you could have your way,” Cass said. “And more will die now.”
“And are they not acceptable losses, Cass, if the end result is peace and security for everyone?” He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “People are sheep. They need a shepherd to tell them where to go, what to do, what to think. They want a shepherd. Everything we have done has been for them.”
It was no use. There was nothing more Cass could do here.
“You fools. You’ve made enemies of friends and allowed the wolves to claim your doorstep. What good will it be to rule a kingdom of dust and ash?”
“It’ll work out,” Vye said. “You’ll see, Cass. You’ll understand when it all settles.”
Cass was still trying to work out a response when a guardsman came in. He bowed when he entered, and Hondo waved him forward. It turned Cass’s stomach to see that. Wren had never asked anyone to bow to him.
“An Awakened has come with a message,” the guard said. “He said he must deliver it himself, in person.”
“Another plea?” Hondo asked.
“I don’t believe so, sir. It seems urgent. He’s very serious.”
“Alright, send him in.”
Hondo motioned dismissively towards Cass, and two of the guards took her by the arms and moved her off to one side.
She heard the door open behind her, but before she could glance over her shoulder to see who it was, Wren called out, “Painter!”
Cass turned and saw Painter stride into the room and immediately knew something had changed about him. He was standing taller, with his shoulders back and his chest out. His face was grave. He didn’t acknowledge Wren or Cass, or anyone else, other than those seated on the three thrones.
He stopped before them, but did not bow.
“You look familiar,” Hondo said. “A friend of Wren’s, aren’t you?”
“I am a herald, and I have come with a message for the rulers of the city.”
Cass was shocked to hear the voice coming from Painter. It was full and powerful, confident. And he hadn’t stuttered once.
“Oh, well, by all means, please deliver it.”
“One is coming with a host at his command. He does not wish to take you by surprise, for he longs to test his strength against yours. When the sun sets, his army will appear and make your city desolate.”
Vye sat upright, but Hondo only laughed. He leaned forward in mock seriousness. “And what tribute does this mighty warlord desire to spare us this fate?”
“It is no threat. There is nothing you can give to see it pass over. There is nothing you can do to prevent it. It is a prophecy. Your city has seen its last sunrise.”
Hondo sat back with a bemused look, and then he looked over to Wren and Cass.
“I can appreciate the theatrics,” he said. “But really, next time you should find someone with a more…” he waved his hand up and down in Painter’s direction, “imposing figure.”
Cass was too stunned to pay any attention to what Hondo had said. Painter seemed wholly in control of himself, but the change was too sudden – too severe – and she knew the ominous words were not truly his. The thought was too terrible to admit, yet too certain to dismiss. Asher had found a way into Painter’s mind. And Painter had given himself over.
“Get him out of here.”
Two of the guards approached Painter, but he held up his hands with such authority that they halted. He turned on his own and walked to the door, without so much a glance at Wren or Cass. Before he left, Painter paused and stretched out his hand towards Hondo, as if pronouncing a blessing.
“Come tomorrow you shall no longer be called Morningside, for by then I shall have given you a new name.”
And with that, he exited. The throne room was silent for a few moments after. Cass and Wren made eye contact, and Cass wondered if the fear and horror was as apparent in her eyes as it was in his. Vye had gone pale, and even North looked unsettled. Only Hondo remained unmoved.
“Will you now do as I’ve asked?” said Cass. “Shut the gates, and prepare.”
“And please, Hondo, let me use the machine,” Wren added, pleading.
“So you can help bring this army? It was an impressive performance, but I’m not so easily taken as that. Because you have such compassion for the people, how about this? You both may go and live among them.” He motioned for the guards to take Cass and Wren from the throne room.
“Hondo, wait,” North said. “Let’s talk about this…”
“There’s no need to discuss it, unless Vye is in disagreement?” Hondo answered, looking at Vye, who was watching Wren. Vye glanced at Cass and for a moment they locked eyes. But then she lowered her gaze and shook her head.
He said, “As I thought. The ruling stands. Escort them from the grounds, and see that they leave with the first relocation.”
The guards forced Cass and Wren from the room, though neither she nor her son offered any resistance.
They were corralled and placed near one of the western gates, with what Cass estimated to be roughly two hundred of the most unfortunate citizens that Morningside had to offer. There were a few rough-looking characters who looked like they might start trouble once the move began, but for the most part, everyone seemed resigned to their fate.
After spending some time among them, Cass realized this too was part of the plan. The first group to leave wasn’t made up of the worst offenders, or the most vocal critics. It was comprised alm
ost entirely of those who would go along quietly, those who trusted the promise of the Council, or who were too afraid of reprisal to make any fuss. These were people who just wanted to live their lives in whatever peace they could find. They would make an example for the others. They would prove it wasn’t so bad if you just went along.
There was a large contingent of guardsmen stationed around the area, an impressive show of force, though it was largely unnecessary. No one seemed to have any plans to do anything other than move out when they were told to do so. Cass overheard some conversations of people discussing which buildings beyond the wall they were planning to occupy. Some even went so far as to claim that their options would be better outside the wall than they had been inside.
The people they were with didn’t seem to know quite what to make of them, and though there were occasional nods of recognition, or puzzled looks, for the most part there was a concerted effort not to notice them: Don’t make trouble. Just go along.
Cass wanted to be angered by the attitude, but she couldn’t find it in herself. Walking amongst them, she realized that she’d spent much of her own life doing that very thing. Going along, doing whatever it took to get through one more day. It was how she’d hooked up with RushRuin. It was why she’d let a city crown her son. She wondered if she was doing it even now.
She kept Wren close and together they tried to figure out what to do. Try as he might, Wren just couldn’t keep a connection established to Underdown’s machine, and it didn’t seem likely that they’d be getting a chance to ever return to the compound. There was no doubt in either of their minds that Painter’s pronouncement had been no idle threat. Though neither of them understood exactly what had happened to Painter, it was just like Asher to call attention to himself ahead of time. To give them a warning, and dare them to defy him. And to leave them in terrible anticipation of what was to come.
