“It’s Aron,” he said. “And a whole lot of people. He’s got a gun.”
Cass’s heart fell. She thought she’d made it clear to Kit that a fight wasn’t what she wanted. There was no point in starting a battle inside the city when a war was coming from without. She let Wren down, grabbed his hand, and started pushing her way through the crowd towards the guards. She had to stop it.
But when before she reached the edge, she was surprised to see the line of guards parting. Aron was there, with Mister Sun, followed by many others. They started filtering into the crowd, and she saw now that many of them were wearing packs, or carrying large bags.
When they got close enough, Cass called out to them, and they made their way towards each other.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Comin’ with you,” Aron said. His rifle gleamed in the noonday sun. A bandolier full of rounds hung across his chest.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I told you I was gonna do what I could to protect these people,” he answered. “So we’re movin’ out to stand guard. All of us.”
Cass looked past him and saw Mister Sun and Kit, leading a crowd. If all the Awakened weren’t gathered there, Cass couldn’t immediately identify who was missing, and there were many others besides. People she’d seen guarding Mister Sun’s and staying at Aron’s. She was completely overwhelmed with emotion.
“Aron,” she said, shaking her head. “This isn’t what I meant. I can’t ask you to go out there to die.”
“Don’t plan on it,” he said. “We’re goin’ out there to fight. And we’re countin’ on you to lead us.” Aron handed her the pack he was carrying in his hand. Her go-bag.
As they stood there, the others started filing by, many with nods in Cass’s direction as they passed. They were a grim people and armed with whatever they’d had on hand. A ragged army to be sure, but one with purpose and determination.
They streamed by, and she knew these, too, were men and women who’d spent most of their years out beyond the wall. But they weren’t the docile ones, going to their fate at the direction of another. These were a hard people, who knew what they would face and chose willingly to do so on the behalf of others. She recognized another haggard face that seemed to be trying to slip by unnoticed. Swoop.
“Swoop, no,” she said. He stopped and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re in no shape for this.”
“Don’t reckon that’s for you to decide, ma’am.”
“Please, Swoop. I can’t have you on my conscience.”
He stepped in close, leaned forward. “They got me, Cass. I can feel it in my blood. So I figure I’d rather die out here on my feet than in some bed on my back.”
The news hit Cass hard. She’d known Swoop was in trouble, but after Mister Sun had stitched him up, she’d thought he was going to make it. Now knowing his death was inevitable was almost too much to bear.
But then she remembered what Mouse had told her back at the refuge. About how he’d rather follow his brothers and sisters to war than sit back in safety while they went off to die. And it wasn’t just Swoop. All of these people passing by Cass were on the same errand, by choice. Maybe here were his kindred. Courage stirred within her. And slender hope.
She wiped tears from her eyes and squeezed Wren’s hand.
“Alright,” she said. “If this is to be our end, let’s at least make it worthy of legend.”
Cass and the others spent the afternoon organizing, planning, and fortifying what little they could. The citizens that had been displaced were left to mostly go about their business. Cass had decided it would do no good to frighten them at this stage, not knowing what kind of panic might break out. If anyone actually believed her.
In the end, she and the others with her spread the word of an emergency plan, just in case. Everyone was to gather at the eastern gate, through which they had come. Cass and her warriors would form a barrier of protection against the Weir, and the hope was that by sheltering as close to the gate as possible, the guards on the wall of Morningside would be able to lend support. Cass knew they would be able, and hoped they would be willing.
Cass would lead her Awakened kin. They would form the point of the spear, with the hope that they might be able to sow some confusion among the Weir. Swoop led a group of the most seasoned fighters in place directly behind the Awakened. Mister Sun and Aron, each, were captain of their own contingent, protecting the flanks. There were few guns among them, so it would largely be hand-to-hand combat. But Mister Sun had his vicious three-barreled weapon, and Aron his rifle, and Cass hoped that they’d be able to at least thin the numbers.
Mister Sun’s demeanor had changed drastically. No longer the eager-to-please, friendly curator of teas, he now had a no-nonsense air, a hard edge, with no patience for inefficiency or poor tactical thinking. And as he moved throughout the assembled warriors, exhorting them, he seemed to know far more about killing than Cass would ever have guessed.
And she could tell that Swoop wasn’t at full strength, as he checked his lines and ran them through some communication drills, and gave them final pointers on hand-to-hand combat. He was wielding his tomahawk, a weapon she’d seen him carry but never use. But as he went through the motions, his stride wasn’t as certain, and his voice wasn’t as full. Even so, she was willing to bet that none of the men and women under his command could tell anything was off. He still had a powerful presence.
At some point while she and Kit were discussing how best to organize their force, Kit stopped midsentence as someone appeared from out of a nearby alley and approached.
“Uh oh,” Kit said. “You know this guy?”
Cass looked over her shoulder to see who she was talking about and saw the old man headed for them. Chapel.
“Yeah,” Cass said.
“Good guy or bad guy?”
“I’m not sure he’s either.”
Chapel stopped a few feet from them and bowed. “I have considered,” he said.
“And?”
“I will stand with you.”
“We welcome the help.”
He dipped his head, and something about his expression dispelled the notion that he was doing it out of concern for the people. Perhaps it was a fortunate aligning of purpose. Or maybe he was just going where he felt led. Whatever the case, he moved off again with no further exchange.
“How much help can a blind old man be?” Kit asked, after he’d walked away.
“You’d be surprised.”
The final hour of sunset was the worst, when all the plans that could be made had been made, and all that could be prepared had been prepared. The citizens who had seemed so unconcerned were beginning to grow restless as the reality of their new circumstances closed in with the night. The lower the sun got, the more friendly they became towards the Awakened and the warriors gathered.
Wren had taken some stairs up to the roof of a one-story building, and he sat there now with Chapel, watching as the westering sun slipped slowly towards the horizon. Chapel had found him in the midafternoon and had remained with him since. They hadn’t spoken much, but Wren found it comforting to have the old man around.
“Do you remember your village, Chapel?” he asked.
Chapel nodded. “In part. It is as a faded dream to me now.”
“And Lil? And Mister Carter?”
“The same. But the memories have become clearer with time. Perhaps one day I will remember again. Perhaps not.”
They sat quietly again, both looking out over the city, towards the setting sun. Wren glanced up at Chapel with his blindfold. He’d wanted to ask since he first recognized the man, but he hadn’t had the courage. Now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get another chance, so he thought it was worth it.