Morningside Fall(159)

She gave him a parting nod and left him to his work.





Wren’s room was small, but nicely furnished, with a bed, a couple of chairs, a table, a desk, and a small lamp that glowed with a warm orange, almost like firelight. They had brought him dinner, and Joris had stayed with him while he ate. But that had been a couple of hours ago, and no one had come by since.



Outside, night had fallen completely, and Wren had been growing increasingly anxious as darkness closed in, wondering if perhaps tonight would be the night that Asher would make himself known. But now as Wren sat quietly on his bed, he could hear no calls or cries from the Weir. At first he’d wondered if he’d been placed in a room where the windows were too thick to hear any noises of the night. Then he’d heard the low murmur of occasional voices in the courtyard and known that the silence of the Weir was genuine.

But, strangely, the air seemed heavy. Wren didn’t really know how else to describe it. It was like the night itself had weight, and was pressing down on all the city. Even when he tried to stretch out through the digital, it took more effort. He had made several more attempts to connect to the machine, and had each time had the same result. The signal was just too complex for him to hold on to.

Wren’s body was overwhelmingly tired from the day, but his mind was too active. He was just thinking about trying to see if he could fall asleep anyway, when there was a gentle knock at the door. It seemed strange for someone to knock on his door, given the fact that he couldn’t open it himself. Or rather, he could if he wanted to risk it, but he knew that would very likely invite the wrath of the three guards they had posted outside. The Council was too well aware of his talent for locks.

“You can come in,” Wren said.

The door clicked, and the handle turned; when the door opened there was a hulking frame behind it. North.

“Hello, Wren,” he said, stepping into the room. “May I join you?”

“Sure.”

North bowed his head slightly, and then closed the door behind him.

“I can’t stay long,” he said. “But I wanted you to know that I am sorry for how things have gone.”

“OK. Are you going to let me go then?”

North gave a small smile and shook his head. “Not at this time. But you should know that not all is at it appears.” He stepped closer, as if someone might be listening in. “Is what you said about your brother true?”

“Yes.”

North paused in thought. Then he nodded to himself. “I will see what I can do about getting you access to the machine. If not tomorrow, the next day.”

“There may not be a next day,” Wren said.

“The walls are strong, little one,” North said. “We need not fear the Weir.”

Wren shook his head. “You’re wrong, North. You don’t understand.”

“I know these are hard times. But you are young and have seen fewer of them than I have. We’ll find our way through, you’ll see.”

Wren thought for a moment about trying to explain, trying to describe to North what he had seen, and felt, and what it meant. But he knew it would be useless. North was right, he had seen many more difficulties than Wren had. And he had been blinded by them, thinking that this was no different than anything he had faced before. And Wren didn’t know how to convince him otherwise.

“Can I ask you something?” Wren said.

“Of course.”

“Why did you order us exiled? I thought you were our friend.”

“I was, and I am,” North said. He seemed hurt by the implication that he would be otherwise. “I know it is hard to understand. But at the time, issuing that order was the only way I could warn you. I didn’t know whether it would keep you away, or if it would cause you to return. But either way I knew it would tell you something was wrong. And I hoped your isolation would make you harder to find for those who may have been looking.”

Wren didn’t know whether to believe him or not. It made some sense. If Wren believed him.

“I must go,” North said. “But I will make every effort to help you gain access to the machine.”

“Tomorrow,” Wren said.

North nodded. “Or the next day.” The big man bowed his head again, and then knocked twice on the door. “Rest now,” he said. “You still have friends in this city.”

The guards opened the door from the outside, and with a final nod, North was gone. The guards closed the door, and Wren heard the lock click into place. Prisoner in a place he had once called home.

He didn’t know what to make of all North had said. Little of it mattered at this point. They didn’t seem to understand how the affairs of the Council were meaningless in the face of what Wren feared was to come.