Painter cautiously approached. Swoop wandered over and picked up the missing chunk of his rifle.
“What happened?” Wren asked.
“I strove. And I again became master of myself.”
Wren couldn’t understand what he was saying, how that could possibly be.
“You’re Awakened?” Cass asked.
“I do not know the term.”
“You were once a Weir? And now you’re not?”
“That is true.”
“You were going to kill me,” Wren said.
“If I had determined the stories to be true, yes.” He said it without any hint of remorse.
“But you’re not gonna try that anymore,” Swoop said. He came by Wren’s side and stood just a little in front of him, with controlled menace. There was no doubt that Chapel was a foe far beyond Swoop’s skill, but it didn’t seem like that would keep Swoop from giving it a try anyway.
Chapel made no reply, and didn’t even react to Swoop’s voice.
“We came to find you,” Wren said. “At the village. Everyone thought you were dead.”
“Not yet,” Chapel said.
“Are you really yourself, Chapel? Now?”
The old man inclined his head towards Wren and paused before responding.
“I am who I am meant to be,” he answered after a moment. “Perhaps no longer who I was.”
“So, are we friends or what?” Swoop said. “Because if we got things to settle, we oughta get it done. We’re losin’ daylight.”
“These Awakened,” Chapel said. “Who are they?”
“They’re like you,” Wren said. “Except they needed help. To get free.”
“And you helped them?”
Wren nodded.
“And then?”
“And then what?”
“What becomes of them?”
“We live our l-l-l-lives,” Painter said. Chapel turned his face towards him for the first time. “As best we can. Wren ssss-saved me. And others.”
“And you are free?”
“As much as anyone,” Painter said.
“We’re going back to Morningside, Chapel,” Wren said. “You could come with us and see for yourself. Or we could tell you where Lil is. She’ll be so happy to know you’re alive.”
“Lil,” he said. “…I had forgotten.”
Wren wondered exactly how much of Chapel was still Chapel. For a moment, he thought back to Jackson, the young man he’d met at the Vault, who had had the trouble. The one whose mind had temporarily left his body, only to return with others. But no, Chapel didn’t feel like that. There was stillness about him, where Jackson had been wild. Chapel was controlled, not full of chaos. Still, it almost seemed like there was a piece of him missing. Or maybe just out of place.
“I will consider,” Chapel said. He bowed his head to them and then walked away towards the bridge and returned to the spot where they’d first found him. There, he knelt.
“We need to move on,” Swoop said. Wren noticed there was a small, dark stain at the top of his pants, where he’d bled from under his vest.
“Not yet,” Cass said. “You’ve got some explaining to do. All of you.” Her breathing was more controlled, but hadn’t fully settled yet. Even so, the anger was evident in her voice.
“Still got a long walk.”
“Then you go ahead,” Cass said. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Swoop’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t reckon I’m the kind to get dealt with, ma’am.”
“I need a moment with my son,” she answered. “We’ll catch up.”
“We’ll wait on the bridge. Be quick.”
Swoop nodded at Painter, and the two of them moved off to the Windspan, giving Cass and Wren some space. But not too much. Wren hated watching them go, because he knew what was coming.
Cass turned Wren to face her. She crouched and put both her hands on his shoulders. The cut on her cheek was bleeding freely, but she didn’t seem to care.
“What were you thinking? How could you sneak off like that? How could you do that to me, Wren?” Her voice was low but intense. She looked angry, but there were tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Wren said.
“Sorry? What if something had happened to you? What if I hadn’t gotten here when I did? Did you think about what that would have done to me? Did you even think at all?”
Wren stood silent before her. He’d seen her this upset before, but not often. The last time had been when he’d snuck out of the governor’s compound. The night he’d woken Painter. But this time was different. Different for him. Before, the harshness of her voice had frightened him, and the guilt for having done wrong had brought him to tears.