Morningside Fall(11)

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.