Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

Cass turned and saw Painter stride into the room and immediately knew something had changed about him. He was standing taller, with his shoulders back and his chest out. His face was grave. He didn’t acknowledge Wren or Cass, or anyone else, other than those seated on the three thrones.

He stopped before them, but did not bow.

“You look familiar,” Hondo said. “A friend of Wren’s, aren’t you?”

“I am a herald, and I have come with a message for the rulers of the city.”

Cass was shocked to hear the voice coming from Painter. It was full and powerful, confident. And he hadn’t stuttered once.

“Oh, well, by all means, please deliver it.”

“One is coming with a host at his command. He does not wish to take you by surprise, for he longs to test his strength against yours. When the sun sets, his army will appear and make your city desolate.”

Vye sat upright, but Hondo only laughed. He leaned forward in mock seriousness. “And what tribute does this mighty warlord desire to spare us this fate?”

“It is no threat. There is nothing you can give to see it pass over. There is nothing you can do to prevent it. It is a prophecy. Your city has seen its last sunrise.”

Hondo sat back with a bemused look, and then he looked over to Wren and Cass.

“I can appreciate the theatrics,” he said. “But really, next time you should find someone with a more…” he waved his hand up and down in Painter’s direction, “imposing figure.”

Cass was too stunned to pay any attention to what Hondo had said. Painter seemed wholly in control of himself, but the change was too sudden — too severe — and she knew the ominous words were not truly his. The thought was too terrible to admit, yet too certain to dismiss. Asher had found a way into Painter’s mind. And Painter had given himself over.

“Get him out of here.”

Two of the guards approached Painter, but he held up his hands with such authority that they halted. He turned on his own and walked to the door, without so much a glance at Wren or Cass. Before he left, Painter paused and stretched out his hand towards Hondo, as if pronouncing a blessing.

“Come tomorrow you shall no longer be called Morningside, for by then I shall have given you a new name.”

And with that, he exited. The throne room was silent for a few moments after. Cass and Wren made eye contact, and Cass wondered if the fear and horror was as apparent in her eyes as it was in his. Vye had gone pale, and even North looked unsettled. Only Hondo remained unmoved.

“Will you now do as I’ve asked?” said Cass. “Shut the gates, and prepare.”

“And please, Hondo, let me use the machine,” Wren added, pleading.

“So you can help bring this army? It was an impressive performance, but I’m not so easily taken as that. Because you have such compassion for the people, how about this? You both may go and live among them.” He motioned for the guards to take Cass and Wren from the throne room.

“Hondo, wait,” North said. “Let’s talk about this…”

“There’s no need to discuss it, unless Vye is in disagreement?” Hondo answered, looking at Vye, who was watching Wren. Vye glanced at Cass and for a moment they locked eyes. But then she lowered her gaze and shook her head.

He said, “As I thought. The ruling stands. Escort them from the grounds, and see that they leave with the first relocation.”

The guards forced Cass and Wren from the room, though neither she nor her son offered any resistance.

They were corralled and placed near one of the western gates, with what Cass estimated to be roughly two hundred of the most unfortunate citizens that Morningside had to offer. There were a few rough-looking characters who looked like they might start trouble once the move began, but for the most part, everyone seemed resigned to their fate.

After spending some time among them, Cass realized this too was part of the plan. The first group to leave wasn’t made up of the worst offenders, or the most vocal critics. It was comprised almost entirely of those who would go along quietly, those who trusted the promise of the Council, or who were too afraid of reprisal to make any fuss. These were people who just wanted to live their lives in whatever peace they could find. They would make an example for the others. They would prove it wasn’t so bad if you just went along.

There was a large contingent of guardsmen stationed around the area, an impressive show of force, though it was largely unnecessary. No one seemed to have any plans to do anything other than move out when they were told to do so. Cass overheard some conversations of people discussing which buildings beyond the wall they were planning to occupy. Some even went so far as to claim that their options would be better outside the wall than they had been inside.

The people they were with didn’t seem to know quite what to make of them, and though there were occasional nods of recognition, or puzzled looks, for the most part there was a concerted effort not to notice them: Don’t make trouble. Just go along.

Cass wanted to be angered by the attitude, but she couldn’t find it in herself. Walking amongst them, she realized that she’d spent much of her own life doing that very thing. Going along, doing whatever it took to get through one more day. It was how she’d hooked up with RushRuin. It was why she’d let a city crown her son. She wondered if she was doing it even now.

She kept Wren close and together they tried to figure out what to do. Try as he might, Wren just couldn’t keep a connection established to Underdown’s machine, and it didn’t seem likely that they’d be getting a chance to ever return to the compound. There was no doubt in either of their minds that Painter’s pronouncement had been no idle threat. Though neither of them understood exactly what had happened to Painter, it was just like Asher to call attention to himself ahead of time. To give them a warning, and dare them to defy him. And to leave them in terrible anticipation of what was to come.

Even escape was out of the question. There was simply nowhere for them to go. It was too late in the day to try to make the run to Lil’s refuge, and neither of them knew the location of any wayhouses within range. The doom seemed inevitable, but neither of them had yet accepted it.

They’d been stuck with the others for about an hour when Cass heard someone call her name. Glancing around, she didn’t immediately recognize where it had come from, but after a moment she spied a hooded person waving her way. She and Wren approached, and when they got close she recognized who it was.

“Kit,” Cass said, “what are you doing here?”

“Aron asked me to keep an eye on you. Glad he did. What’s going on?”

Cass glanced over at the squad of guards that had been specifically assigned to watch her and Wren closely. There were six at least. She moved past Kit and drew Wren along with her.

“We’re being watched,” she said over her shoulder. “Probably best if they don’t see us talking.”

“Just pretend you’re talking to me, Mama,” Wren said. Cass looked down at Wren and smiled. Clever boy. She knelt in front of him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Kit remained close by, facing slightly away from them.

He “listened” intently, nodding now and then, as Cass quickly explained to Kit what she could; her confrontation with the Council, Painter’s message, and the attack they believed would be coming that night. Kit didn’t quite grasp all of it, and Cass couldn’t blame her. It was too much to absorb. But Kit understood enough.

“We have to get you out of here,” she said.

“We can’t let them put all these people outside,” Cass said.