Morningside Fall (3 page)

“How’d somebody get inside the perimeter?” Arom asked. “Then inside the compound? His hall? His room?” He stomped around the room in a rage. “Do you all realize how many separate, total failures had to happen for some stranger to end up even in the same
building
as him?”

The Council had already gathered, having been briefed when they were summoned. It was unusual to bring them all together on such short notice. No one was happy about it. But certainly the circumstances warranted it. Cass stood at the door, silent and thus far unnoticed, watching them through her heavy veil. Aron, the oldest member of the governing body, thundered with a passion more characteristic of a man thirty years younger.

“Aron, please–” said Connor, holding up a calming hand, trying to soothe the older man. A mistake, Cass knew. His tone would inflame, instead.

“Don’t ‘
Aron, please
’ me, boy,” Aron said, whirling to face Connor. His finger darted out so quickly that Connor actually flinched from across the table. “This is exactly what I’ve been warning you all about. The disorder, the lack of discipline, the… the… the
chaos
out there has finally spilled over these high walls and infected the very heart of our city.”

Already Cass could sense a shift in the Council. Something was different. Off. And in a flash, her instincts confirmed her fear; someone in this room wanted her son dead. But who? And why? Or was she just being paranoid?

She thought of Three and his uncanny knack for reading subtle signs in people’s expressions, movements, breathing. What would he have seen? What would he have said?
Trust your instincts.
She would have to intervene soon or else the morning would be lost. But not yet.

“I told you,” Aron continued. “I warned you when you opened them gates to those people, I warned you they was gonna bring nothin’ but disease and decline. And you did it anyway.”

Hondo had his head back on his chair, eyes closed. Aloof, impatient with anything he considered petty or irrelevant. Vye was next to him, staring down at the table in front of her, ignoring the conflict. If the argument got too heated, she would wilt and refuse to take sides, regardless of what she believed.

“The damage was already done,” Connor answered. Civilian overseer of the entire guard. Not as skilled a diplomat as he believed, but level-headed. “You know it better than anyone. Those people were submissive only because they knew Governor Underdown would continue to protect them even outside the wall.”

“If not for Underdown’s tyranny,” Rae added, “
those people
would’ve been our friends. Our neighbors. Our
allies
.” She was middle-aged and fiery, ever the champion of the less-fortunate.

North watched with quick eyes and utter stillness. Cass was a little surprised he hadn’t noticed her yet.

“Underdown may’ve been a tyrant,” Aron countered, “but at least he brought
order
.”

“Through fear and deception!” Rae retorted.

“Underdown is dead,” said a voice, and a chilled silence immediately fell over the group. Cass realized it was she that had spoken.

“Lady Cass…” Aron said with a slight bow, and the hint of a tremble in his voice. From the adrenaline, not from fear. Never from fear when it came to Aron.

Cass was uncertain what point she had intended to make by reminding them of Underdown’s death. And she could not afford to seem uncertain. Not in this room. Not now. So, without another word, she strode from the door to a seat near the head of the table, but did not sit. Instead, she placed her hands on the table and leaned over it, addressing them in a low and well-controlled voice, hoping it would command the group’s respect, or at very least their attention.

“Last night someone tried to murder my son in his bed. I called you here to discuss solutions, and I see no value in revisiting year-old decisions in light of the difficulties that already lie before us.” She looked to Aron first, and then slowly to each member of the council in turn. “If any of you wish to discuss the matter further, you may do so with me later. Privately. Are we agreed?”

“Of course, ma’am,” said Connor, half-rising out of his chair. The others nodded their assent, Aron last of all.

Cass lifted her hand to indicate her veil.

“Take it off,” Aron said with a dismissive wave. He threw himself heavily into a chair at the table. “I can’t stand you hidin’ behind that infernal curtain.” His gruff words might’ve seemed like rudeness or disdain, but Cass knew better, and she took it as a good sign. It was more like a father’s thin impatience about a cherished daughter’s scandalous outfit; and Aron was only polite when he had an angle.

Cass raised the veil and took a seat, but not without noticing how quickly Rae averted her eyes. More than a year had passed since Cass’s return, and still some could not bear to look at her directly. Some. Many.

“I apologize for bringing you all here on such short notice,” she said. Hondo laid his head back on his chair again, closed his eyes as if to emphasize the point. “But I felt, given the circumstances…”

“Where’s Wren?” Rae asked.

“He won’t be attending today.”

“Is he alright?” North asked, his voice like distant thunder. Built like a mountain, he spoke rarely, listened deeply – and most often heard what went unsaid. A good man.

“A knock on the head, a bruised ankle. We’re grateful it was nothing more.”

“We’re
lucky
it wasn’t more,” Aron said. “And if he isn’t holed up somewhere under lock and key, you’re all a heap dumber than I thought.”

“I’m not going to imprison my son for someone else’s crime, Aron.”

“That boy, Cass, you know I love him like my own, I do, but that boy is more than just your son.”

“Where would you put him?” said Rae. “If he isn’t safe in his own room, where in Morningside could he possibly go?”

Cass defused the beginnings of another squabble by activating the table surface. The marble texturing melted away and was replaced by a number of images of Wren’s attacker. “Anyone recognize this girl?”

Hondo raised his head off his chair with an audible sigh, opened his eyes to look.

Vye’s hand went to her mouth, but not from recognition. Her compassion was well known. Tears welled in her eyes. “She’s so young.”

There was a brief silence as everyone scanned the pictures.

“An outsider, no question,” Aron said. A quick evaluation; maybe too quick.

“We don’t know that,” Rae responded. Possibly just to antagonize Aron.

“It’s obvious. Look at her. Clothes, dirt, all skin and bones.”

“Because Morningside’s never had poor inside the wall, Aron?” Rae asked, anger evident in her voice.

“Rae.” Connor stepped in. “Let’s not make it a class thing, OK? You have to admit, she doesn’t look like a citizen.” Rae sharply looked back at the images in front of her without response.

“Probably lost her family to an attack or something,” Aron said. “Maybe had it out for Underdown, and once we brought ’em all inside, she waited for a chance and decided to get some revenge on Wren.”

“Could be,” Vye said cautiously. “I guess it’s possible.”

“Stretching. Outsider, I buy,” Hondo added. “But personal vendetta? Pulled this off on her own? I don’t see that.”

“I have to agree,” said Connor. “Whatever her motives, she’s got all the marks of someone who grew up beyond the wall.”
Beyond the wall.
A phrase Connor probably considered more diplomatic, but still managed to make sound demeaning. Another way to say outsider. Second-class. Other. Like Cass.

“Or someone went to a great deal of trouble to make it seem like she came from the outside,” North said, and Cass watched his words ripple through the Council. Aron and Hondo exchanged a quick glance; Rae clenched her jaw; Vye just sat there looking at the pictures of the girl and shaking her head. Connor stayed very still. For a long moment, they sat in silence, the implications sinking in.

“How did she…?” Vye asked, unable to bring herself to say it.

“She killed herself,” Cass said. She tossed the handle of the girl’s knife on the table. Hondo picked it up, examined it, held it up for the others to see.

“It’s a popper.”

“A what?” Vye said.

“Shatter-blade,” Aron explained. “Got a little charge in there, makes the blade explode in a million pieces and turns your insides to soup. Nasty business. Find ’em on outsiders all the time.” He added the last bit as if it was proof positive his assumptions were right. Awfully convinced.

“Who would do such a thing?” Connor said, almost to himself. He shook his head. “Who could even
conceive
of such a thing? He’s just a boy!” There was genuine despair in his voice. A rare display of emotion.

“Not to them,” said Vye. Her voice was quiet but certain.

“And that’s what I mean,” Aron said. “Look. In here, to us, we know who Wren is. But out there, he’s just a name. Or… or… or a king. Or a god.”

“Or a devil,” said Hondo. Cass held herself still, refused to react to the almost-familiar words. After a moment, she let her eyes slide casually across Vye to Hondo.

“That’s not what I meant,” Vye said.

“It isn’t what you said, but it’s what you meant,” Hondo replied. “And what do you expect? He brought ghouls to live among us.” Aron and Connor both reacted, and Vye actually gasped aloud. Hondo glanced at her, then turned and addressed Cass directly. “Look, don’t take it the wrong way, Cass. I’m just trying to be honest about how some folk feel.”

Cass waved her hand, casually dismissing any offense. She’d been called worse.

“There are certain segments out there,” Hondo continued, “not me mind you, you know not me, but there are segments who just want things back the way they were.”

Connor said, “Things will never be the way they were–”

“It doesn’t matter, Connor, people will always want it anyway!” Hondo said, voice rising. “I got people out there still talking about going home one day!
Home
, Connor! What kind of home you think is left out there for anyone to go back to?”

“People are just afraid,” Rae said. “Afraid of change, afraid of uncertainty. And when people are afraid, they drive themselves to do things. Crazy things.”

Aron said, “And that’s why I said we had to keep the gates closed!”

“Didn’t we
just
agree we weren’t going back there, Aron?” said Hondo.

Things were getting heated again. Cass glanced at North. He was still, expressionless, soaking it all in.

Aron replied, “But back there is the problem, Hondo. Back there is where too much changed, too fast. Look here, bringin’ Wren to the people, makin’ him governor, that was the quick fix. Underdown’s son, heir to the throne. What he would have wanted. That’s easy, people get that. But throwin’ the gates open to the outsiders? And then this business with… you know. I’m sorry, Cass, but it’s true.”

She said, “No one here needs to apologize to me for anything. I know what I am.”

“Again, Aron,” said Rae, “we all appreciate your keen sense of problems, but why don’t you try solving one for a change!”

He said, “We gotta get ’em off the streets. Bring ’em all here, or let me take ’em in at my place, I don’t care. We just need a place for ’em to stay until people get used to the idea.”

North spoke at last. “They’re free people, Aron. Free
people.
Like you. Like me.”

“No, North, they’re not. Doesn’t matter what we say, doesn’t matter whether you like it or I like it. They’re different.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” said a small voice from the entryway. The whole Council turned, and even Cass felt a jolt. There was Wren, standing near the door. Observing, for who knew how long. Just like his mama. Able hovered by the entrance, at once protective and unobtrusive.

Cass opened her mouth to protest but caught herself, closed it. You shouldn’t be here. You should be resting. You should be playing. You should be having a childhood
.
Not in front of the Council. In here she was his advisor, not his mother. A war she constantly fought.

Wren approached, and everyone stood as he climbed up in his chair at the head of the table. A formality they insisted on, though Wren had often said it seemed silly. His legs dangled freely above the floor, but his face was grave with understanding well beyond his eight years.

The Council retook their seats.

“How are you, Wren?” Rae asked.

“I’m well, Miss Rae, thank you,” Wren said. His words and tone were kind, respectful, but Cass could tell the answer had been more reflex than response. “It’s the difference that scares people so much. All the changes.”

He said it like a statement, but it was a question. Looking for confirmation.

“Change, uncertainty,” Aron said, nodding. “Like Rae says.”

“But that’s not the whole truth,” Hondo said, leaning forward. “It’s
them
, too. What they are. What they represent.”

Cass felt anger rising, but checked herself.

“Tell us, Hondo,” North said. He was speaking Cass’s mind, whether he knew it or not. “What do our friends
represent
?”

Hondo swallowed, licked his lips, glanced around the table for allies. Maybe he’d pushed it too far.

“People think they could go back,” Wren said. The Council seemed surprised to hear him answer for Hondo. “To the way they were.”

Hondo nodded. For a moment, Cass lost herself hearing her son give voice to the nightmare that haunted her daily; the terrifying thought that she might ever… relapse? Revert? Was there even a word for it?

“And some folk blame them for things that happened,” Hondo added after a moment. “I know it’s not fair. It’s not right, and it’s not fair, but that’s how it is.”

“None of this moves us any closer to resolving last night’s attack,” Cass said, reasserting control of the conversation. “Unless you’re suggesting that we’ve reached such a state in Morningside that people would send someone to kill my son?”

Hondo shrugged in a way that suggested it was the only possible explanation.

“What purpose would that possibly serve?” Rae asked.

“It’d be the first step towards getting things back to the way they were, wouldn’t it?” Hondo said. “Think about it. Wren dies by the hand of an outsider, what’s the first thing everyone’s going to want to do?”

“Send them all back outside,” Vye said.