“He was elegant, though. His way was to do the job so no one even knew he’d been there. Zenith hated him from day one, but he knew a moneymaker when he saw one.” Cass paused. She hadn’t really thought back to those times, not in a long while. Back to when she was young, and he swept in and changed her life. Old feelings stirred like autumn leaves rolling. “He was good. And he was a good man. That’s when we went big time. RushRuin. After a couple of runs, Ran and Dagon came on board. The Mountain and the Grave. They were at the top of the game back then. Freelancers. Everybody wanted them, and they came to us.”
“One big happy family.”
“Until Wren.”
“Not Zenith’s. And he knew.”
“Everybody did. Except the father.”
“He left you there? With Zenith?”
“There was a… disagreement. He couldn’t stay. I couldn’t leave.”
“So your new man walked. And Zenith did what?”
“Got what was coming. Finally got too rough with me one night. Dagon was there.”
She grimaced at the image. The pain. The flood of relief. And regret. Three hadn’t looked at her since she’d started the tale. He was busy studying the horizon. Only the top quarter of the sun remained. She could see behind his eyes though, that he was busy putting the pieces together, processing.
“And Asher runs the show now,” he said. “It didn’t bother him that Dagon killed his father?”
“He was running jobs by the time he was ten. At first, because Zenith made him. But after I had Wren, he… changed. Started asking, begging to run jobs. Even ones Zenith wouldn’t take. Sometimes, Asher would do them anyway. After Dagon… after Zenith was gone, he just sort of took over. Didn’t miss a beat. Like he’d been groomed for it. And everyone seemed OK with it.”
“Except you.”
“I was never OK with any of it.”
Three nodded.
“He’s after Wren,” he said. “Because Wren is… Wren is something else entirely.”
“Wren shut him down, Three. Locked him out. At age five. No one else has ever been able to do that. And Asher can’t live without knowing how Wren did it, and Wren…” Tears started coming now, thinking about her boy, lying in a hole in the middle of the Strand. All because he didn’t want to see someone hurt. “That’s my baby he’s after. My baby. He doesn’t know how he did it, he can’t tell Asher what he wants to know. And Asher won’t stop… it’s an obsession. A disease. He wants to take my boy apart.”
“They’re both your boys.”
It stung to hear him say that, but he didn’t seem to have intended it to be anything more than a factual statement. Or maybe he was, for the first time, processing out loud. He looked to her, as if he suddenly realized how that had sounded. Placed a gentle hand on her forearm. She wondered that such rough hands could touch that gently.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“No, it’s OK,” Cass said, wiping the tears off her face. “It’s true. Technically. But Asher ceased to be my son years ago. He’s more like his father now. And he wants everything his father had.” She dipped her head, looked straight into his eyes. “Everything.”
Three seemed to understand. But nothing seemed to shock him. She guessed he’d seen too much of the world to be surprised by any depths of depravity anymore.
“So we get to Morningside, and you find Wren’s father, and then?”
Cass was surprised to feel her heart drop under the weight of the question. Up until a few weeks ago, she’d been unable to imagine any other person in the world she could trust Wren to, once she was gone.
“I guess we hope he’s still as good a man as he once was.”
Three just nodded again. The sun’s final orange rays were tinting red now.
“Alright, girl,” he said. Her heart stirred when he called her that. “Let’s get you some rest, and we’ll see about getting you to your man.”
He stood, and lent her his hand, helping her to her feet. They stood close for a moment. He looked down deep in her eyes; she felt he was searching for something, and found herself wishing she knew what it was. Right now, she felt like she would tell him anything. Then he stepped back, moving out of her path to the shelter.
“It might get a little noisy tonight. But don’t worry. I’ll be watching over you.”
Cass only nodded in response, but somehow hearing those words, in that voice, with that certainty, gave her hope, comfort. She moved to the shelter, and worked her way in through the narrow opening. Wren was already fast asleep. As she settled herself in beside him, she heard Three moving near the entrance, and then it was suddenly dark.
“Three?” she called in a forced whisper. Orange light reappeared, and he looked in through the opening.
“Yeah?”
“Are you coming in?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to seal you in. Cover you up completely, just to be safe. I need to be able to see what’s going on.”
“Will you sleep?”
He smiled. “Later.” He started to cover over the entrance again, and then paused. “Hey, Cass. Wren’s dad. What’s his name?”
It struck her as an odd time for the question. Especially since he hadn’t seemed interested before.
“Underdown,” she answered. His expression wavered momentarily in some passing cloud of emotion. Then he smiled again, and nodded, and covered the entrance, and all was dark.
Twenty-Three
After the first hour of the distant, circuit-laced wails, the exhaustion finally won out, and Cass dozed off. But just minutes after she’d fallen asleep, she was startled awake by a scrabbling noise just outside the shelter. Heart pounding, she fought to control her breathing, to shield Wren, and most importantly to be still. Something was right outside, right next to the wall, picking along it, picking at it. Dust crumbled onto her cheek.
Still, she thought. Be still.
There was a noise of something shifting away, and a flow of cold air rolled over her. It was dismantling their shelter.
“Cass,” Three whispered. “We’re gonna need to get movin’ in a few.”
Her mind rejected the concept immediately. Moving through the Strand at night was guaranteed to get them all killed. What time was it anyway? She went to check the time…
“Cass!” Three whispered more urgently. “You awake?”
His second call was enough, and snapped her to full awareness. She wouldn’t mention just how close she’d come to giving them all away.
“I’m awake,” she answered in a whisper, fearing the Weir were near. “What’s wrong, did they find us?”
She rolled over, and found Three peeking in through their narrow entrance, face backlit by a dull gray light.
“No, it’s almost daybreak. If we’re gonna make it out of here today, I want to get a jump on it. Just over ten hours of daylight.”
“It’s morning already?”
“Yeah, close enough. You sleep?”
“Apparently.”
“Well, take a minute to get sorted out, and then we need to move, OK?”
“OK.” He looked tired. And sweaty. There were flecks of something dark spattered under his chin. “Are you alright?”
“Sure, fine. Just be ready to move.”
Cass pointed at his chin. Three touched it with his fingertips, and drew them back. Scanned them.
“Yeah…” he said. “Busy night.” He flashed a weak smile that seemed filled with an endless fatigue. “Let me know when you’re ready. Sooner is better.” And then he withdrew.
Cass sat up as best she could inside their hiding place, rolled her neck and shoulders. Frustrated that she’d slept for hours and felt it had been no more than a few minutes. She hoped Wren had slept better. She looked at him there, curled tight in a ball, a long coat draped over him like a blanket. She blinked at the coat. Mind still groggy, but processing. She didn’t remember the coat from before. Three’s. He must’ve checked on them in the night.