Morningside Fall(137)
And he hated himself for the tears. They made him feel stupid and weak. He wanted so desperately to be brave, and to never show emotions, like Swoop. Like Three. For all his ideas of returning to Morningside and fighting some battle against Asher, the reality of the cold, and the walk, and the growing loneliness were all so much harder to face than he’d expected. They’d only been gone maybe twenty minutes. Already he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought he could do it. It had seemed so much easier to picture his brave return when he’d been warm in bed, with Mama close at hand.
His weakness appalled him. Now he knew without a doubt that if he had been able to sneak out on his own, he would’ve turned back. But he wasn’t on his own. And if he wasn’t brave enough to go on, at least he was too ashamed to quit in front of Painter and Swoop.
He kept his head down and his eyes focused on Swoop’s feet in front of him.
Still they continued on in silence. Swoop set a hard enough pace that Wren didn’t feel like he’d be able to talk a whole lot while he tried to keep up anyway. But there was something else, too. The heavy sky, the stillness of the morning, the chill air that bit cheeks and fingers, all of it made speaking seem out of place. It was gradually becoming lighter, though the sun never appeared anywhere Wren could see it.
For the first hour or so, Wren kept thinking his body would warm up to all the walking and he wouldn’t feel so sluggish. But after a while he started to realize that he wasn’t feeling any better, and wasn’t likely to any time soon. The first journey out from Morningside had been tough enough. The trip out to Ninestory and back, with all of its fresh terror, was another matter. The anxiety and adrenaline of the fight, the flight back to the refuge under constant fear of pursuit, the death of Elan, and the close call with Wick. It had left Wren feeling completely empty.
And then there was Asher – he was like a great black storm cloud haunting Wren’s every thought. Wren still didn’t know what exactly he was going to do when he got to Morningside, what he expected to find inside the machine, or how he would even begin to challenge Asher. But Three had told Wren that whenever he didn’t know what to do, he should always trust his gut. And his gut said he should go to Morningside.
Even while everything else in him was screaming to turn around and go back.
Cass woke with a start and sat up, gasping for breath, heart hammering in her chest. She had no idea what had woken her. A dream maybe, though she couldn’t remember it. It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings and get her bearings. Once she did, though, she settled onto her back and tried to gather herself. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders relax and waited for her head to clear.
Everything felt just a little off. Soft around the edges. Blurred. Her vision, her thoughts, even her movement. Whatever Mouse had dosed her with had had plenty of time to clear. Maybe her injuries had been worse than Cass had initially thought.
A sudden paranoid thought leapt to her mind. What if that was how it began? What if Asher was already at work, trying to gain control over her? Regain control. He’d had it once. Would that make it easier for him to do again? She shuddered at the thought.
No. Her mind was her own. It was true that Asher had once directed her, when she had been enslaved by the Weir. But Wren had freed her. That connection had surely been severed. She closed her eyes for a few moments, steadied herself.
Lil had graciously offered to let them stay at the refuge as long as they cared to, though she’d made no comment as to how much longer her own people were planning to stay.
Cass had decided they’d remain until Mouse was satisfied with Wick’s condition. Hopefully that would give them enough time to figure out their next move. There was little doubt they would have to confront the situation in Morningside at some point. But she didn’t want to walk blindly back into it.
When the news had first come of their exile, it had seemed earth-shattering. Now, in light of their uncovering of Asher, it was by comparison a petty distraction. A squabble in the face of doom. But Cass knew Asher far too well to pretend that Morningside would be safe from his vengeance. It had been the place of his destruction. He would bend all of his will to see pain revisited upon its populace, whether she and Wren were there or not.
Cass opened her eyes and then, with a deep breath, eased herself up to a sitting position and dropped her legs over the edge of the bed. The concrete was cold under her bare feet. She rolled her neck around, tested her shoulder. Every muscle felt tight. She’d probably spent more time in bed in the past two days than she had in the weeks previous.