Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to address the citizens of Morningside. The people. His people. He’d done it maybe a dozen times by now. The Council agreed it was important, that his words reassured the city. Letting himself be seen, really. But it felt different this time. More dangerous. More at stake.

The hardest had been after the last big attack. Some people blamed Wren, of course, for not doing more. For not saving more. But the anger had been defused by his order to open the city to everyone — to bring all people inside the wall. And it had been his order. The first and only time he’d ever overridden the Council’s vote. His right as governor. Now it seemed like maybe a terrible mistake with delayed results. Too much change, too fast. Too many unintended consequences. And no way to undo it.

The doors opened and sunlight flooded into the hall through the main entrance. The tall steps seemed higher, the walk to the gate farther. And beyond the gate, a press of people — held at a distance by a thin line of guardsmen. When he stepped out onto the stone staircase, a cheer went up from the crowd. It made Wren feel sick to his stomach.

“Steady,” North said behind him. “You’ll be fine.”

The cheering continued during his entire walk to the gate, and as he mounted the stairs to the top of the wall. Climbing the stairs was always the hardest part. The height made him a little dizzy, but it was the memory of the place that brought such disgust.

It was the very place that the previous governor had died, thrown down by a usurper. Governor Underdown, the father he never knew. The murderer Asher. Wren’s half-brother. Him, he knew all too well. Now they were both gone, gone because of Wren.

And he was left here, in that same spot, with hundreds of people below just waiting to hear what he had to say. He’d never told anyone how horrible this place made him feel. Wren had been too scared to say anything the first time they’d made him give a speech. And after that, he figured since he’d done it once, they’d just tell Wren he could do it again. He climbed the final steps and tried to push the memories from his mind. Time to pretend he was someone braver and wiser.

As he crested the wall, Wren nearly choked. It wasn’t a crowd below. It was a sea. He had never seen so many people gathered before: thousands of them, as if the entire city had shown up to hear his words. He turned back to Mama. She was there, smiling gently towards him, an expression he more felt through the veil than saw. North and Aron stood on either side of her. North looked unfazed by the enormity of the crowd, but Aron’s eyes were wide as he scanned the multitude. And Wren noticed Vye was nowhere to be found. Three would’ve been proud that he’d picked up on that. It was small comfort.

The noise from the mass of people died down, and all the moisture left Wren’s mouth. He glanced up and down the wall. Finn stood further down to his left, scanning the crowd with a grim look. On his right, maybe fifteen feet away, Gamble stood guard. That made him feel a little better, knowing Gamble was watching over him. She was great.

Wren stepped up to the edge of the wall, looking out over the crush of humanity below. He drew a deep breath and through his internal connection accessed the secure frequency that would broadcast and amplify his voice to the masses. There were so many. So many faces, so many smiles, so many fears. And throughout, oversized pictures dotted the crowd, held aloft in hopes that he would see. Held by women, mostly — mothers, though here and there a father, or brother, or child. Pictures of loved ones lost. Taken. Silent pleas for Wren to find them and bring them back. It was overwhelming, and Wren felt as though his legs would give way at any moment.

Find Wick, he told himself. Just find Wick.

He started slowly sweeping his eyes across the people, looking for that one face, and in doing so, the mass of individuals faded into scenery. Not men and women and children waiting for him to save them all. Just a backdrop for Wick to hide in.

“Go ahead, Wren,” he heard his mama’s voice behind him, speaking in low tones. Wren realized he had no idea how long it’d been since the crowd had quieted. He cleared his throat, and tried to remember to speak slowly.

“People of Morningside,” he said, and the echo of his voice sounded thin and weak. He hated hearing his own voice. “My people. I don’t want you to be afraid.” Already it wasn’t going quite as planned. Wren was supposed to say they had nothing to fear, because Aron said that was reassuring, and it didn’t suggest anyone was a coward. Aron had said no one would ever admit they were afraid, and coming from a child it would sound even more childish. But it wasn’t true. There were lots of things to fear, most of them they didn’t know about. And Wren couldn’t stand up here and lie.

He said, “Some things have happened these past few days. You’ve heard stories. Some of us are angry. Some of us are sad. Some of us are confused. I know, because I can feel it all myself.” Where was Wick? It seemed almost useless to look for him in that mass of people, but not looking for him seemed even more daunting. “I can’t tell you how you should feel. I just don’t want you to be afraid.”

For the most part the crowd was relatively still; as still as people ever are when they’re standing close together. But there was some movement off to Wren’s left that caught his attention. Some commotion; people being jostled. He tried not to let it break his concentration.

“Last night the Weir attacked the western gate, and we lost one of our guardsmen. But they were turned away. You can rest safely here in our city, because you have many men and women watching over you. We’re safe here.”

More motion off to the right, similar to the other side. A couple of people made angry noises. And there in the center of the crowd, bodies shifting.

“Our walls are strong, and our people are stronger. There’s nothing from the outside that can touch us. But inside our walls…” Wren trailed off for a moment, not sure how to say exactly what he wanted to say. And he could see now what was causing all the commotion. Several men were shoving their way forward through the crowd, quickly and roughly. They looked angry. Find Wick. Find Wick. “Here inside, we have to do our part. Each of us. The only thing that can harm this city is its own people.”

A hand came down on his shoulder, grasping hard, and Wren felt himself being pulled back from the edge.

“Get him off the wall,” Gamble said, right next to him. He never even saw her move. She was turning him, pushing him towards his mama. “Get him off the wall.”

She wasn’t shouting or anything, not really even raising her voice. But it was so controlled and direct Wren knew without a doubt something was going wrong. A murmur came up from the crowd, punctuated by a couple of cries. Finn was closing in, moving swiftly towards them, somehow without looking like he was rushing at all. Mouse was behind him, pointing down towards the crowd. How long had Mouse had been there?

“What about us?” someone shouted from below. “What about us?”

Wren tried to turn back to see who it was, what was happening, but he couldn’t get free of the tide that was sweeping him from the wall, down the stairs. The crowd got louder then, people started shouting. As they got to the bottom of the stairs, Cass grabbed Wren’s wrist and started pulling him along, too fast for a walk, but not quite a run. Something thumped loudly, and there were screams, and the sounds of panic. Wren smelled smoke.

“What’s happening, Mama?” Wren said. “What’s happening?” he repeated.

“Just go, baby. Go.”