by Jay Posey
“Are they going to just let you walk back out?” Cass asked.
“I hope so,” Kit said. “They better.”
“Do me a favor and get back to Aron and try to talk to Mister Sun, let them know the situation. Maybe they’ll be able to put something together.”
“You got it,” Kit said. She risked turning towards them, and spoke in a low voice as she passed by. “Stay safe, Lady. You too, Governor. We’re not going to leave you out there.”
It was around noon when the order came down to start moving the people out. One of the captains of the guard started giving commands in a loud voice and reminding everyone that it would be an orderly process, and he had the means to ensure it. There were a few scuffles around the edges, but with the overwhelming response from the guard, they neither lasted long nor spread. By and large, the mass of people seemed content to gather their belongings and set off to start a new life in the open.
The lack of protest or struggle was easier to understand when Cass realized that most if not all of these citizens had spent most of their lives outside the wall anyway, under Underdown’s reign and protection. For them, perhaps living inside the city had been the anomaly, not being forced back out. Many of the dwellings that had been established outside still remained, and there seemed to be some kind of unspoken agreement that these people would simply return to where they once had lived. Maybe for some, it felt like going home.
Cass and Wren were near the middle of the crowd, and before they started moving, a guardsman weaved his way over to them. Cass recognized him from the compound. It was Joris. He was carrying Wren’s pack and coat.
He nodded in greeting as he approached, and smiled apologetically.
“Lady, Governor,” he said. “I’m not supposed to be doing this, but I couldn’t stand to see you go out there empty-handed.” He handed Wren his belongings.
“Thanks, Joris,” Wren said.
Joris glanced around quickly, and then produced something else from within his uniform. He handed it to Wren. “And there’s this.”
Wren accepted it and looked at the item laid across his palm. His knife. “Oh, Joris, thank you so much.”
“Might want to hide it for now. I know it’s special.”
Wren nodded and tucked the knife away in his belt.
“Thank you, Joris,” Cass said.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” he said.
“It means a lot that you did anything at all,” she answered.
He gave her a sad smile. “Good luck to you,” Joris said to Cass, then he gave Wren a nod. “Governor.”
“Bye, Joris,” Wren said.
Joris turned to go, but as he did so a murmur arose from behind Cass, and there was a commotion. When she looked at the source, she saw a number of guardsmen were forming up in a line, shoulder-to-shoulder, but facing away from the crowd. It was hard to see through the crowd and the guards, but Cass was able to make out what looked like a large group of people approaching.
“Here, Wren,” she said, “come here.” She grabbed him around the waist and boosted him. “Can you see what’s happening?”
“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.
“What happened to your eyes?”
Chapel didn’t turn towards him.
“They were no longer mine,” he said. “I removed them.” He spread his fingers on his lap, showing the dark and cracked nails. “These too I reclaimed.”
“But you can still see?”
“In a way. I have other senses, some which I did not have before. But as I could not expel them, I learned to harness them, and so again became master of myself.”
“I wish you could’ve gone back to the village,” Wren said. “I think it might still be there today if you had.”
“My sins are many,” Chapel said. “I doubt hell has room enough to hold them all. But I could not return there.”
“Why not?”
“It was a mistake. Selfish. I withdrew there. Hid myself away. And darkness grew.” He turned his face towards Wren then. “There is much evil in our world. No longer will I let it rest.”
He turned back towards the sunset, and for a time Wren pondered his words. As the sky deepened from blue to purple above, and the orange disc disappeared at last behind the horizon, Cass called to Wren from below and waved him down.
“I guess it’s time.”
Chapel dipped his head.
“Do you have a new name for today?” Wren asked.
“Today?” Chapel said as he stood. He thought for a moment. “Today, I am War.”
He motioned for Wren to lead the way, and together they descended the steps.
Cass and her small army took their positions. Some of the citizens had chosen to gather at the gate already, knowing from all the plans and preparations that something was about to happen. Others were still setting up in their reclaimed shelters around the area. But all of them seemed to be keeping their heads up, ever watchful for any hint of danger. Cass expected them to panic when the time came. She just hoped they would remember to run towards the city and not away from it.
In the very picture of irony, Wren was now under the care of Aron. Aron was stationed in the rear-most portion of the fighters, on a slight rise in the terrain, which afforded him a view from which to command as well as a perch from which to shoot. Chapel, too, was with Wren, and Cass felt certain that those two would do everything in their power to protect her son.
Her natural instinct had been to keep him near her, of course, but she realized that she could protect him best by leading these people. And she understood something of his heart, now, in his earlier desire to separate himself from her for her own safety.
Cass drew the massive pistol from the holster on her thigh and checked its cylinder. Three rounds, ready to go. She’d only fired the weapon once, long ago, in a moment of utter despair. Well, she’d fired it three times, wasting ammunition far more precious than she had realized at the time. She wondered what Three would have thought of their predicament now, and she smiled in spite of herself. Probably wouldn’t have surprised him much. She snapped the cylinder shut with a flick of her wrist and replaced the pistol. Shooting had never been her greatest strength. But it was nice to have the option, just in case.
The attack didn’t begin the way she had expected. Rather than the sudden eruption of electric howls, it started with a pronouncement.
“People of Morningside,” a loud voice called, impossibly loud, as if it was coming from all around her, or from the heavens themselves. “Your time has ended!”
There was a figure standing atop a building not far from the gate, silhouetted black against the night-blue sky. His glowing eyes radiated their starlight-blue as he looked down upon them. Painter.
“The one you once knew as Master has returned that you should now know his wrath and ruin.”
His booming voice echoed through the streets and alleys, off the surrounding buildings and the wall.
“He is Asher, Mind of the Weir, and I am his Voice. Thus he says to you: I will slake the thirst of Death with your blood, the mouth of hell I will glut with your flesh, until all that remains is the echoing horror of what once you were!
“No more shall you be called Morningside. Instead, I name you the Grief of Dawn!”
As soon as those words were spoken, shadows sprang forth from the ruined city beyond, shadows with electric eyes, sweeping like a black tide towards them. A cascade of Weir poured forth, and their shrieks rent the air. Cass felt those nearby shrink back in the face of the onslaught, but she leapt forward with a shout.
Thunder exploded behind her, and the Weir at the front of the charge disintegrated in a shower of gore, and several behind it fell to the ground. Aron was already at work with his mighty weapon.
But those deaths did nothing to slow the surge, and seconds later, the lines crashed together. Cass met them head-on and was forced backwards by the impact. But Swoop was there. And then Kit, and then another of her Awakened brethren, and another. And together they fought, side by side, shoulder-to-shoulder.
And then others joined in with a cry, and all became chaos. Citizens who hadn’t made it to the gate fell before the storm, but Cass had no time to mourn them, or even process their deaths. All around he
r, the Weir writhed and strove against her, and she beat them back with fist and claw.
Aron’s rifle continued to thunder, though Cass couldn’t see its effects. And while always fear threatened to overwhelm her, she fought to focus on destroying the enemy closest at hand, and again and again succeeded in doing so. Swoop was never far from her side, his tomahawk smoking black in the melee.
But no matter how many they slew, it never seemed to stem or even to slow the assault. She grabbed one Weir by the side of the head and spun, slamming it to the ground, and as she rose, she realized how much closer they’d already been pushed towards the wall. They were practically at the gate, maybe twenty yards away.
She risked a glance up, and saw a number of guards were firing down from the wall, and that gave her hope, until she turned back and saw how many still remained. Claws stung her. But Cass refused to let them take her. She smashed her palm into the face of a Weir and drove it backwards into its advancing kin, fighting to gain space for the people trapped between the Weir and the gate.
Someone fell to her left, claimed by the Weir, but she didn’t have time to see who it was. Already her arms and legs grew heavy, her strikes inaccurate, and still so many remained.
But then on her right, the Weir peeled back and wheeled, and there a radiance fell among them. And above the roar of combat and the shrieks of the Weir, a voice arose. Singing. And Cass knew that somehow, beyond all hope or imagining, Lil had come, and her warriors with her.
Where those avenging angels went, the Weir fell before them, or scattered, and Cass heard now as well the sounds of gunfire. Gamble was there too, with her team. And together Lil and Gamble and all those with them drove back the Weir from the flank.
Still the bulk of the Weir fought on, pressing their way towards the gate, and Cass was helpless to prevent them. She strained against the Weir, but their numbers were still too great. She could only hope to survive long enough for Gamble to cut a path to her, but with each second that passed, it seemed a more and more distant hope.