Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

“It’s not like that, sir. We’re going to have to arrest you all. It’s orders.”

“Orders given by an invalid authority based on a false accusation. My mother had nothing to do with Connor’s death, and Swoop has only ever loyally protected and obeyed his governor. The only thing either of them are guilty of is remaining faithful where others faltered.”

The officer glanced around at the other guardsmen, clearly uncertain how to handle the situation. And Wren understood his advantage now. While they were unsure, he was certain of his purpose, and that certainty gave him confidence.

“I can’t…” the officer said.

“You will,” Wren answered. He held out his hands. “I’ll allow you to bind my hands, if it will help you.”

“Wren, no,” Cass said, but Wren ignored her. Now wasn’t the time. The officer’s eyes flicked to Cass and then back to Wren.

“I am still your governor,” Wren said. “Regardless of what you’ve been told.”

After a moment of hesitation, the officer took out a pair of binders and clamped them around Wren’s wrists. Even when he had tightened them fully, they nearly slid down over Wren’s hands. Wren was pretty sure he could have pulled free if he’d wanted to.

“What about these others?” one of the guards asked the officer in a low voice.

“I don’t know, just… just keep an eye on ’em,” the officer said. “Until we get this straightened out.”

The officer and two other guards formed up around him, careful not to get too close to Swoop, who had worked his way up to his hands and knees, but hadn’t made it much further.

Wren looked at his mama.

“Take care of Swoop,” he said.

The officer placed his hand on Wren’s shoulder and guided him forward. It was only as they started away from the gate that Wren realized the crowd had gone nearly silent. They were almost all watching him, some with concern, some with confusion, some with contempt. The guards cleared a path through the people as the officer kept a tight grip on Wren’s shoulder. Murmurs swept through the crowd as they passed through.

Wren risked one last look over his shoulder, and saw Mama helping Swoop to his feet. There was a figure standing behind them in the distance, still outside the city: Chapel.

Wren smiled inwardly, as he quietly let the guardsmen lead him away to his uncertain fate.

They had stripped Wren of most of his belongings; his pack, his coat, his knife. It was the knife he missed the most. At least they’d taken the binders off too. And it felt good to be warm again. Now he sat in a small, dim room within the governor’s compound, waiting to hear what would become of him. For some reason they’d thought it necessary to blindfold him when they brought him inside, so he wasn’t sure exactly where he was. He didn’t recognize the room. But there were lots of rooms in the compound that he’d never seen. Wren guessed he was somewhere on one of the lower floors, below the main council room. There were two chairs in the room, with a low table between them.

For all the seriousness of the situation, there was a dark humor in it. He had been here before. It wasn’t the same room, nor were circumstances the same. But not all that long ago, a year and a half maybe, he’d been captured, isolated, locked away so someone else could decide his fate. At least this time he’d chosen to be captured. And he hoped this time his fate would be his own to decide.

Night was closing in on Morningside. It was still his city. He was responsible for it, whether anyone recognized it or not. So, while Wren sat and waited for someone to come and take him before the Council, he closed his eyes and stretched outside of himself, searching for a way to connect to the machine.

It had been easier before, when he’d been able to touch it. Wren didn’t know why, but that always seemed to be the case. Things were clearer somehow when he could touch them. But having had contact with the machine once before, at least he knew what he was looking for. He tried to visualize it, remember what it had been like, what it had felt like.

Somewhere in the ether he found a thread. He focused on that sliver of signal and traced it back to its source. But as he tried to follow it, it seemed to unravel. He tried again, but each time the signal dissolved before he could establish a solid connection. He hadn’t often connected to complex systems, and certainly he’d never faced anything as complicated as Underdown’s machine before. But even so, something felt different. It was almost as if the machine itself didn’t want him to connect. Like it was resisting him.

The door to his room opened, startling Wren back to the physical world. Joris, one of the compound watchmen, stood in the doorway.

“It’s time, Gov–” he said, cutting himself off before he finished the word. “Uh, they’re ready for you.”

Joris smiled sadly. He had always been one of the nice ones. Wren could see the reluctance in his face. He was following orders, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Thanks, Joris,” Wren said.

There were two other guardsmen waiting in the hall, but Wren didn’t recognize either of them.

“This way,” Joris said. He led them down the corridor. The other two guards stayed close behind Wren, one at each shoulder. Wren’s nerves started running wild as he pictured what he might be walking into. And he didn’t know why they thought they needed three guards. They were treating him like an enemy who might try to escape. As if there was anything he could do to one of these stout men that would enable him to get away, let alone three of them.

They climbed up two flights of stairs and came out into a hallway that Wren recognized well. Joris wasn’t leading them to the Council Room as he’d expected. They were heading towards the old throne room. The room where Underdown and Asher had each once sat. Where Wren had Awakened his mama, and where Three had died. A year and a half later, and Wren was back to where his life in Morningside had started. Maybe it was fitting that it should end here, too.

It had taken everything in Cass not to pursue the guards when they had led Wren away. But he had seemed changed somehow. Unafraid. Sure of purpose. In control. He had spoken to the guards in a tone she’d never heard from him before. And his words to her had been heavy with the weight of command.

Take care of Swoop.

And so she had. She’d taken Swoop’s pack and had managed to get him back on his feet, but it’d taken a lot of effort to get him there. The guards that had been left behind had seemed reluctant both to let them go or to make them stay, so in the end they had just stood around doing their best not to interfere in any way.

The people gathered near the gate had mostly kept clear as well. They’d been largely content to stare at her, most impassively, some with anger and hatred upon their faces. But as she and Swoop had made their way through their midst, Swoop had stumbled and gone down hard on his knees. When Cass had tried to help him up, she’d been surprised to find two other pairs of hands there to assist.

Two women, both in shabby clothes, took it upon themselves to support Swoop the rest of the way, each with one of his arms over their shoulders. Together they had made their way to Mister Sun’s Tea House. Cass hadn’t known where else to go.

And as they approached, Cass noted a number of men and women arrayed around it. Some had swords, some knives, but most of them seemed to be wielding whatever they’d had on hand that might double as a weapon. At first Cass thought they were planning to attack the Tea House, but as she got closer she realized that wasn’t it at all. They were guarding it.