She didn’t wait for a response. Cass saw Joris, one of the night guardsmen, flinch from down the hall as she approached. He raised a hand, but she couldn’t tell if it was to slow her down or to defend himself.
“Joris, the Weir are at the west gate!” she called. He still had his mouth open when Cass passed him. “Get the guard to the gate! The west gate!”
She called it over her shoulder, trusting that his training would kick in and Joris would know what to do. Out through the front doors, she leapt from the top stair and cleared the bottom one ten feet below without missing a step. Instinctively, she tried to boost before her brain reminded her she no longer had the implant, no longer needed the chemicals in her bloodstream. No longer had a bloodstream, for that matter.
Down the wide, empty street she sped, breathing quickly but easily. The cries of the Weir came more rapidly now, growing in number, converging to a single point. It was maybe six hundred yards from the governor’s compound to the western gate. Cass reached it in just under a minute.
There were stairs near the gate, leading up thirty feet above the ground to the top of the wall in a switchback. She took them two at a time and was almost halfway up when the first shockwave hit the gate. There was a sound like thunder, followed by scattered impacts, like rocks after a landslide. When Cass gained the top of the wall, she found one of the city’s watchmen staring down below, open-mouthed, frozen in fear.
“Hey!” she called, without thinking. The watchman’s head snapped around and, seeing her, his eyes went wide, and she saw him fumbling at his hip. “No, no, no, wait!”
But it was too late. He had the weapon up and pointed. It all seemed to happen in half-speed, but the distance was too great. As Cass closed the gap, she saw the leap of blue fire in the muzzle as she twisted her head and body, heard the snap of the round as it passed by. She spun, whipping a hand out and caught the watchman’s wrist as he fired the second time, sending another wild shot out into the night.
“It’s me, it’s Cass,” she shouted at him. The man stood paralyzed for the seconds it took for his brain to process what had just happened, and then his face melted from terror to pure dismay.
“Lady Cass, I’m so sorry, I thought–”
“I know! Did you hit the alarm?”
“The alarm?” He looked confused, like “alarm” was some word she’d just made up.
“Yes, did you hit it?” she asked.
“What?” he said. Cass could see the realization dawning in painful slowness. “No. I…”
Below, the gate boomed again, followed again by secondary impacts. Cass released the watchman’s wrist and gave him a firm shove towards the guard post. “Go, do it now! Go!” The watchman stumbled backwards, and then the shock finally seemed to wear off.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m on it!” He raced towards the post, and Cass ran to the edge of the wall and looked over. What she saw stole her breath.
The Weir were massed against the gate, dozens of them, in a writhing knot of flesh and claw. And as she watched, they fell back, scattering away from the wall. Then they turned again, and charged once more towards the gate. As one they collided into it, the few stragglers following closely behind and throwing themselves into the crush. They were trying to break through.
Cass felt the alarm charge up, an electric tingle just before the alert went out across the network to the City Guard. There was no blaring horn or screaming siren, no citywide notification of danger. The last thing the Guard needed in times of crisis was the mad panic of frightened citizens. Best to keep the sheep in their pens and let the sheepdogs do their work. Help would come.
Below her, the Weir continued their maddened surge, a near-human tide, momentarily receding, before racing forward again to crash against the iron gates. Cass couldn’t see the use. The gates were far too heavy, and securely barred besides. It was almost like watching a child throw a tantrum, a too-small fist landing meaningless blows. She wondered briefly if the other gates were also under attack, but footsteps on the stairs behind Cass caught her attention.
Gamble was the first to reach the top, jittergun in her hand and fire in her eyes. Her dark hair was in tight braids, and she pushed a stray aside as she jogged to join Cass.
“They coming through?” Gamble asked, breathing heavily from her sprint.
“No, gate’s secure and holding.”
Gamble leaned over the wall to see for herself. “What’re they doing?”
“I have no idea.”
More footsteps on the stairs, and Able appeared, followed closely by Gamble’s husband, Sky. Able, focused and intense, flowed past Cass and Gamble and took up a position further down the wall. Sky moved to the women at the edge of the wall, his long rifle pointed skyward but ready to deploy in an instant.