“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.