Jay Posey: Morningside Fall

Painter was tall and thin, with arms and legs just a little too long to look like they belonged to him. His hair was a wavy brown nest too loose to call curly but with an obvious mind of its own. He tended to be self-conscious — either because of, or compounded by, the heavy stutter he suffered from. Painter looked in every way like a typical nineteen year-old kid. Except in the eyes; though they were currently hidden beneath dark goggles, Cass knew that where others had iris and pupil, Painter had only softly radiating blue. Both he and Luck had become good friends to Wren. And both had been Awakened.

“Luck, Painter,” she said, greeting them both. “What brings you gentlemen around?”

“Actually we were on our way back home, Miss Cass,” Luck said. “They wouldn’t let us in the front gate.”

“The Council’s meeting,” Cass answered. Normally security wouldn’t lock the compound down just for the Council, but what she’d said was true and she hoped it wouldn’t invite any further questions.

“Oh, OK. We were just coming to say ‘hi’,” said Luck. “Guess we’ll catch up later?”

Cass looked down at Wren, who in turn looked up at her. His eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Actually, I have to get to this meeting, but Wren’s free. Why don’t you fellas walk back around to the north-west gate, and he’ll meet you there?”

“Uh, OK, sure,” Luck said. “If it’s no bother.”

“I’d like the company,” Wren said.

“Alright, we’ll see you there. Thanks, Miss Cass!”

“Sure thing, Luck,” she said. Painter dipped his head and waved. Cass smiled back, and the two young men disappeared from the gate. When they were gone, Cass turned Wren towards her. She said, “I know you’ll be careful, but watch what you say, OK? It’s very important that no one finds out about what happened last night, alright?”

“I know, Mama. I’ll be smart.”

“I know you will, baby. I’ll come find you after the meeting, OK?”

“Kay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Cass bent and kissed Wren on the top of the head, and then sent him off towards the main gate. As she watched him go, she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. The attack had raised so many questions in her mind; there were too many moving pieces, too many shifting variables for her to grasp anything solid. But despite the cloud of confused and swirling thoughts, something in her gut insisted that someone from the Council had been involved.

With Wren removed from the meeting, the Council members would be off-balance; some would be less guarded, others more so. Reading them would be critical. Cass needed all the focus she could muster. She drew the veil back down over her face. And with a sharp, short breath she steeled herself, and headed towards the Council Room.

As Wren approached the gate, he crossed behind two guardsmen patrolling through the front courtyard. Neither of them seemed to notice him. He moved behind them and picked up on the middle of their conversation.

“Just a couple of those deadling kids. Said they came by to see the Governor,” the shorter one said.

“Ugh. I dunno why we ever let ’em in in the first place. They gimme the creeps.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” the first guard replied with a shrug, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Kid’s mom seems alright.”

The other guard snorted. “She’s alright from behind for sure. I’d like to bend her over a chair, as long as she didn’t turn around.”

Wren had no idea what that was supposed to mean exactly, but he knew they weren’t speaking well of his mama, and something rose up inside him.

“Hey!” he called.

Both guards jumped a little and turned in surprise. Wren guessed the shorter one was in his forties, and the other was quite a bit younger. Twenties, maybe. He recognized them both, but didn’t know either of their names. They stood awkwardly next to one another.

“Governor,” the older one said, and it sounded like some mix of a greeting, a question, and just a hint of a joke. And in that moment, Wren missed Mama and Able. He had to say something to these men, now that he had their attention, but he didn’t know what. They were grown-ups, after all. Tall and muscled and certainly not used to being challenged by little boys. Swoop had been trying to teach Wren how to talk with authority and how to command a room. But Wren realized now it was so much easier to be brave and in charge when you had a couple of warriors at your side.

The young guard made a clicking noise as he sucked something out of his teeth and the corner of his mouth curled up like he was trying not to laugh. It made Wren angry. At least one thing Wren had learned was that anger always sounded scarier when you didn’t shout it.

“What’re your names?” he asked, not quite knowing where he was going. He just knew that when he got in trouble, the thing Wren hated most was the questions he had to answer without knowing why they were being asked.

“Gaz,” the older one said. The younger one just stood there staring back with that look on his face. “This here’s Janner.”

Wren’s legs felt hollow and there was a tremble in his stomach that made him want to throw up. He held his hands behind his back to look more in charge. And to hide the fact that they were shaking. Janner sniffed out a laugh through his nose and looked at the ground. Wren’s mind raced for something meaningful to say. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head and jumbled into a huge mass of nothing.

Without raising his head, Janner’s eyes shifted sideways to Gaz. He still had that smirk on his face. And Wren still felt the anger, the need to defend Mama. But everything seemed frozen inside him. Frustration built. He discovered he had no idea how to express what he wanted to say. No way to correct or punish.

“If the governor would be so kind,” Gaz said, “we’ve got a patrol to maintain.”

Wren searched one last time for something. Anything. And came up empty. He nodded his head and even though he tried hard not to, he ended up dropping his gaze to the ground.

“Morning, then,” Gaz said. Wren watched the two pairs of feet swivel and walk away. And just a few moments later he heard Janner mutter, “Little brat.”

It shouldn’t have seemed like such a big deal, but in that moment Wren felt like he’d lost something important. He was supposed to be the Governor. Supposed to be in charge. But even his own guard didn’t respect him. And why should they? He was just a stupid little boy, playing at being king. Tears rose up, and he hated himself all the more for crying.

Wren dug his palms into his eyes for a few moments, tried to push the tears away. It didn’t matter, really. It didn’t matter whether people respected him or even liked him. There was still work to do, and it was his job — his duty — to do it. At least until someone else came along.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants, and his nose on his sleeve, and made his way to the main gate. Up ahead he could hear raised voices, not quite loud enough to make out the words but enough to get the gist of the tone. Painter and Luck were already there, taking abuse from one of the guardsmen.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I told you already, nobody’s coming in or out today,” the guard snapped. “And if you don’t quit buzzing around here, I’ll have to juice you both.” He waved his stunrod back and forth for emphasis.

“It’s OK,” Wren called. “I asked them to come.”

The guard turned and saw Wren. It was Lane, one of the guards who’d been on duty when the attack happened, and one of the nicer people in the guard. If he was still posted, that must’ve meant they’d called everyone in. It also explained why Lane wasn’t his usual cheerful self.