Somewhere in the ether he found a thread. He focused on that sliver of signal and traced it back to its source. But as he tried to follow it, it seemed to unravel. He tried again, but each time the signal dissolved before he could establish a solid connection. He hadn’t often connected to complex systems, and certainly he’d never faced anything as complicated as Underdown’s machine before. But even so, something felt different. It was almost as if the machine itself didn’t want him to connect. Like it was resisting him.
The door to his room opened, startling Wren back to the physical world. Joris, one of the compound watchmen, stood in the doorway.
“It’s time, Gov–” he said, cutting himself off before he finished the word. “Uh, they’re ready for you.”
Joris smiled sadly. He had always been one of the nice ones. Wren could see the reluctance in his face. He was following orders, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Thanks, Joris,” Wren said.
There were two other guardsmen waiting in the hall, but Wren didn’t recognize either of them.
“This way,” Joris said. He led them down the corridor. The other two guards stayed close behind Wren, one at each shoulder. Wren’s nerves started running wild as he pictured what he might be walking into. And he didn’t know why they thought they needed three guards. They were treating him like an enemy who might try to escape. As if there was anything he could do to one of these stout men that would enable him to get away, let alone three of them.
They climbed up two flights of stairs and came out into a hallway that Wren recognized well. Joris wasn’t leading them to the Council Room as he’d expected. They were heading towards the old throne room. The room where Underdown and Asher had each once sat. Where Wren had Awakened his mama, and where Three had died. A year and a half later, and Wren was back to where his life in Morningside had started. Maybe it was fitting that it should end here, too.
It had taken everything in Cass not to pursue the guards when they had led Wren away. But he had seemed changed somehow. Unafraid. Sure of purpose. In control. He had spoken to the guards in a tone she’d never heard from him before. And his words to her had been heavy with the weight of command.
Take care of Swoop.
And so she had. She’d taken Swoop’s pack and had managed to get him back on his feet, but it’d taken a lot of effort to get him there. The guards that had been left behind had seemed reluctant both to let them go or to make them stay, so in the end they had just stood around doing their best not to interfere in any way.
The people gathered near the gate had mostly kept clear as well. They’d been largely content to stare at her, most impassively, some with anger and hatred upon their faces. But as she and Swoop had made their way through their midst, Swoop had stumbled and gone down hard on his knees. When Cass had tried to help him up, she’d been surprised to find two other pairs of hands there to assist.
Two women, both in shabby clothes, took it upon themselves to support Swoop the rest of the way, each with one of his arms over their shoulders. Together they had made their way to Mister Sun’s Tea House. Cass hadn’t known where else to go.
And as they approached, Cass noted a number of men and women arrayed around it. Some had swords, some knives, but most of them seemed to be wielding whatever they’d had on hand that might double as a weapon. At first Cass thought they were planning to attack the Tea House, but as she got closer she realized that wasn’t it at all. They were guarding it.
When they saw her coming, they opened a gap in the line for her to pass through, and one of them jogged up the steps and opened the door for them. The inside had changed significantly since the last time Cass had been there, the night they’d fled the city. Some of the tables remained in the middle of the room, but many had been pushed to the corners and stacked. Now the main hall was segmented by folding screens and blankets hung on cords. And there were people everywhere — sitting at tables, sitting in their makeshift rooms, sitting on the floor. Others seemed to be milling around aimlessly. It had all the look of a refugee camp. Many Awakened were among them. Most, in fact. But Cass didn’t see Kit anywhere.
Mister Sun quickly brought them through the main area and after a brief exchange, he took charge of Swoop and led him back to his own room. Mister Sun helped Swoop remove his clothes and then assessed the wound. To Cass’s surprise, Mister Sun seemed to know quite a lot about cleaning and stitching up such injuries. After sealing the wound, Mister Sun applied some kind of salve and dressed it in a layer of bandages.
Once they made sure Swoop was as comfortable as they could make him, they left him to rest and returned to the main room. It was only then that Cass realized the two women who had helped her get Swoop to the Tea House were gone. She never even got their names.
“Mister Sun,” Cass said. “What happened when we left? What’s going on?”
He shook his head and slid a stimstick in his mouth. It activated, and he took a drag before he answered, “Trouble, Lady Cass. Much trouble.”
He led her through the main area and then up the back stairs to a small room on the top floor. Painter’s old room. They went inside and he closed the door.
“There was a riot, after you left,” Mister Sun said. “Many were injured. Some killed.”
“What started it?”
“Who can say which pebble caused the landslide? It had been building for weeks,” he answered. “Citizens of old resent those brought in from outside the wall. Both despise the Awakened. When it was announced you had slain Connor and fled, there was outrage.”
“I didn’t kill Connor, Mister Sun.”
He shrugged. “You were not here. It was convenient to believe what they said, for those who desired the same outcome.”
“What outcome?” she asked.
“They’re rounding people up,” Mister Sun said. “Preparing to move them out of the city.”
“That’s why all those people were gathered at the gate.”
Mister Sun nodded and took another pull on his stimstick.
“They can’t,” she said. “They can’t do that. Those poor people will get slaughtered by the Weir.”
“They claim the guard will patrol to protect them. Some have resisted. Most have not.”
“And the people downstairs?”
“There was backlash against the Awakened,” he replied. “We brought some of them here.”
“What about the others?”
“With Aron.”
The mention of his name shocked her. “I thought he was dead.”
Mister Sun shook his head.
So, they were forcing the non-citizens back outside the wall. The pure foolishness of it struck her. Particularly now, with the danger that lay ahead.
And logistically, she didn’t see how they could possibly expect to pull it off. There was no way the Council could have put together such a plan in such a short amount of time. Unless of course, they’d been planning it for much longer.
“I need to see Aron.”
Joris opened the door to the throne room, and the first thing that struck Wren was the fact that there were now three throne-like chairs on the dais instead of one. No one was sitting in them yet, which somehow seemed worse than facing whoever was supposed to be there. The room was cleaner than it’d been the last time he’d seen it. The night that Connor and Aron had dragged him through it. Only a few days before, though it seemed like weeks in his mind.
They closed the door behind him and, when Wren looked back, he saw that only Joris remained with him.
“What’s going to happen now?” Wren asked.
“The High Council will be here in a moment,” Joris said without looking at him.