Dawnbreaker: Legends of the Duskwalker - Book 3 (9 page)

“We’d be grateful,” Gamble answered, “but I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

She cued Mouse with a look.

“Wick’s in real bad shape,” Mouse said. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and when I checked him this morning, his body temp was low. Looks like early stages of a blood infection. If we don’t do something soon, we’re going to lose him.”

Cass looked over at Finn, who was stonefaced. Obviously Mouse had already told him the news.

“Can you cure it?” Lil asked.

“If we had the right meds and time to keep him rested, yeah,” Mouse said. “But I don’t have what we need in my kit.”

Lil hadn’t picked up on it yet, but Cass could sense that they were building to something. They already had a plan, they just hadn’t told everyone else yet.

“But you know where you can find it,” Cass said. Mouse nodded.

“And where’s that?” Lil asked.

Mouse glanced at Gamble. She answered.

“Morningside.”

The word hung in the air like a thousand-pound bomb moments from impact.

“You can’t be serious,” Lil said.

“There’s more,” Mouse said. “Swoop’s back there.”

“That’s... no,” Lil said, looking back and forth between Mouse and Gamble. “No, you can’t.” But they both looked back at her impassively; it was obvious the decision had been made. Lil turned to Cass then, hoping for an ally. “Cass. You saw what they did to the city. Tell them they can’t go back!”

Cass agreed with Lil. Returning to Morningside seemed like utter insanity. But she knew in her heart she had no right to oppose Gamble. The team leader would risk anything to save her boys.

“I can’t
not
go back, ma’am,” Mouse said. “I made a promise to him that I wouldn’t let him become one of those things.”

“We all did,” Gamble added. She shook her head again and looked off across the empty cityscape, back towards the rising sun. Back towards Morningside.

“I understand your loyalty,” Lil said to Gamble. “I understand your word, and your honor. But I can’t in good conscience let you do this, you’re talking about suicide–”

Gamble turned to Lil, a spark of fire kindled. “All due respect, ma’am, I don’t think your opinion much weighs in.”

“Do you really think Swoop would want–”

“Don’t,” Gamble said, cutting Lil off. There was a warning growl in her tone, but Lil didn’t shrink back. The two stared each other down, and Cass saw laid bare between them the strength of their wills. Different as they were, both were strong, capable warriors; both were gifted leaders. For a few seconds, it didn’t look like either one of them was going to back down. But Lil was the first to remember herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was out of line.” Gamble continued to stare her down, driving home the point and offering no sign of acceptance or apology. “I just hate to see you throw your lives away.”

“If you really knew us, you’d understand,” Gamble said.

“You have your people,” Finn added, taking his turn to ease the tension. “We have ours. If you were in our place, I’m sure you’d do the same.”

Lil nodded, though it seemed to come more from a desire to move past it all than from any agreement on her part.

“If you’d be willing to take the survivors back with you,” Mouse said, “we’d be deeply grateful.”

“Of course,” Lil answered. “Any and all are welcome.” She looked at Cass then. “And you?”

Cass looked around at the others.

“You’re going on to Greenstone,” Gamble said before Cass could answer. “Get back to your boy, Cass. You’ve already done more for us than you should have.”

Cass inhaled, steadied herself. Shook her head.

“I’m not going to Greenstone,” she said. “I can’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Gamble said, her eyes hard.

“I have to stay on this side of the Strand. Keep Asher’s eyes on me. He doesn’t have any reason to think Wren’s anywhere other than where I am. Even if he manages to figure it out, I don’t believe he’ll go after Wren until he gets to me first. And I don’t intend to let him do either.”

Cass wanted to continue, to tell them all she was going to head out into the open on her own, but the words caught in her throat. Gamble stood before her, jaw working. Cass awaited the blistering response. But once again, Gamble surprised her.

“If you think that’s the best way to protect your son,” she said, “then we’re with you.”

That wasn’t at all what Cass had expected, nor was it what she’d been planning. And though she started to protest, once again she couldn’t bring herself to confess her intent. Maybe her resolve wasn’t as firm as she’d thought.

“We’ll work it out when we get back,” Gamble said. “Once we know what we’ve got to work with.”

They stood in a brief, awkward silence, no one seeming to know quite what came next. Lil was the first to break it.

“Then I suppose this is where our paths diverge once more,” she said.

“Looks like,” Gamble replied.

Cass felt the lingering emotional rift and hated it. Here, now, of all times, she knew they should all be supporting one another, not tearing each other down. But the previous night had taken a heavy toll, and careless words were never easy to recover even in the best of circumstances.

“In that case, I would have us part as friends,” Lil added quietly.

“More than friends,” Cass said, and she stepped forward and embraced her. “You’ve been a sister to me, Lil.”

Lil hugged her back, and then drew away. “Whatever may happen, when your business is done, you’ll always have a place with us.” She squeezed Cass’s arm, and then looked over to Finn, and Mouse, and finally Gamble. “All of you.”

“Don’t go saying your goodbyes just yet,” Gamble said, and though the words were direct, her tone had softened and warmed; the closest thing to an apology she’d give. “We’ve got logistics to work out.” Then she looked to Mouse.

“I want to get Swoop taken care of as much as anyone,” Gamble said. “It’s worth it to me to see if we can pick up a line on him. But despite some people’s impressions, I’m not authorizing a suicide run. We’ll run a tight timeline, two objectives. Primary is
resupply
.” She emphasized the word. “Can’t help Swoop if we’re not well ourselves.”

Mouse glanced at the sun, already larger on the horizon now. “Maybe I should get a jump on it. Rest of you can catch up.”

“That’s a negative, Mouse. Sky and Able will be back soon enough. I wanna know if we’re going to have to find a new place to hole up before we head out. We’ll all go together.”

“Not all of us,” Mouse said. “We can’t move Wick. Not far, anyway. And we can’t leave him on his own.”

“How much watching does he need?”

Mouse shook his head. “I’ll check him again before we head out. Not much we can do for him except keep him still and rested. And, you know... he’s not going to be able to pull security real well.”

Gamble’s eyes narrowed as she looked back towards the wayhouse entrance, evaluating, working on whatever plan she was forming in her head. After a moment, she smiled sadly to herself. “Swoop was always good with this sort of thing.”

“You know what he’d say,” Mouse replied.

Gamble looked up at him and lowered the pitch of her voice, imitating their fallen comrade. “‘Mouse and me can handle it. Rest of you, button up and wait for our knock.’”

The right corner of Mouse’s mouth curved upward in a shadow of a smile at the impression. “And then you’d say...”

Gamble chuckled and said in her own voice, “Don’t be an idiot. Sky and Able stay with Wick; rest of you with me.” After a moment, she looked to Finn. “I’d feel better having you along, if your head’s in the right place.”

“I’m good to go,” Finn answered.

“If it’s not, I understand, that’s your brother in there,” Gamble said. “But I need to know. I don’t want you out here if you’re running anything less than a hundred percent.”

“If Mouse says he’ll be OK, he’ll be OK,” Finn said. “And anyway, if I stayed with him, he’d ride me the whole time for acting like Mom.”

“I think Sky ought to come along,” Mouse said. “Wick won’t need that much watching; Cass and Able can cover it.”

“Able won’t like us leaving him behind,” Finn said.

“None of us would. But he needs rest, too. Only way to get him to take it is to give him something important to do here.”

“I’m good with that,” Gamble said. She turned to Cass. “Assuming you’re intent on staying.”

Cass remained convinced that her presence posed a threat to Gamble and her team, but her ultimate concern was Wren. Whatever the team did, as long as Cass was around, Asher’s attention would be bent towards her, and therefore them. But if they knew the risks and were willing to accept them, why should she resist? And returning to Morningside? If they were determined to make an attempt, they would need all the help they could get.

“I am,” she said. “But I’ll be more use if I come with you.”

Gamble flicked her eyes to Mouse. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Not sure there’s a place more dangerous,” Gamble said to Cass.

“That’s probably true for me no matter where I am,” Cass answered.

“Then I guess you might as well be with us,” Gamble said. “I’m sure we can use the extra eyes. All right, let’s get everybody up and accounted for. We all need as much daylight as we can get.”

“You got it,” Finn said. Mouse nodded and together the two of them headed back towards the wayhouse. Gamble pulled Lil off to the side, and Cass stood there alone, between the wayhouse and the two women, unsure for the moment of what she ought to be doing. There was something more to her decision to stay with the team than she wanted to admit. Though Cass tried to convince herself that it wasn’t really part of the equation, the fact was that they’d given her a good excuse not to have to go off on her own. As much as she’d been convinced it was best for everyone, the idea of facing the open on her own was overwhelming. Maybe this wasn’t the best way, but maybe it was good enough.

Lil and Gamble stood close together, saying whatever it was they needed to say to one another. Cass couldn’t hear any of the words, but she got the impression that the two women would leave as friends. After a minute or two, they embraced. As they parted, Sky and Able reappeared in one of the narrow entrances to the courtyard and approached. Gamble and Lil rejoined Cass, and the three women stood together in silence until the two men joined them.

“Hey, Ace,” Sky said, glancing around at everyone’s look. “You uh... get it all sorted out?”

“Yep,” Gamble said.

“Well all right,” he said. “When do we leave?”

“I’d say about now,” Gamble said. “We need to have a quick chat, then we’ll roll out.”

Gamble led them all back to the wayhouse to work out the final details. Cass followed in an almost dreamlike state, dizzy with the unknowns and the possibilities that lay ahead. Nothing was going the way she’d thought it would. In fact, it all seemed to be going exactly the opposite. She’d been expecting her next days, however many or few they were, to be fraught with danger. But she had never for a moment imagined that in just a few minutes, she and her companions would be walking towards the one place they ought to be running the farthest from.

“
C
ome with me
,” Haiku said.

He watched the boy sitting on the couch across the room; a small and fragile thing. Whatever strength Wren possessed was well-hidden beneath that tiny frame. It would be easy to mistake him, to overlook or dismiss him, if not for the gravity of his gaze, the sharpness in his eyes. Those sea-green eyes had witnessed more than most people beheld in their full lifetimes; far more than any child should have. And more than witnessed. Wren knew the exhilarating horror of battle, and many times over the unspeakable sorrow of sudden loss. His were the eyes of one who knew intimately how thin the membrane between life and death was.

The way the child held himself had already given away his answer; he was shrunken in on himself, shoulders slumped, head bowed, breathing shallow. Haiku waited patiently nonetheless for Wren to give it voice. It had been a long shot, a strange request.

“It’s your decision, Wren,” jCharles said. “Totally up to you.”

Wren nodded. He was seated at one end of the couch, as he had been for most of the day before when he’d related his tale, and Three’s. And like the day before, he was now staring at his hands in his lap, picking at a small sore next to the thumbnail on his right hand. The woman, Mol, sat beside him, while jCharles hovered by the window. The old man, Chapel, was leaning against the wall near the door.

“Wren, honey, leave it alone,” Mol said. “You’ll end up making it a habit.”

Wren curled his hands into fists, making his small hands seem even smaller.

“I’m sorry,” Wren said finally, and he looked up at Haiku. “I can’t go. My Mama will look for me here. I have to wait for her.”

It was as Haiku had expected. After Wren had gone to bed the night before, he’d discussed it at length with jCharles and Mol. But he’d waited until morning to extend the invitation, waited until Wren was another day rested, in hopes that he would be more willing to consider the offer. There were ways to manipulate him, of course, and Haiku had discerned them; emotions to stir, memories to evoke. If the Weir had truly been united under a single mind, even just a fraction of their total number, the potential for that one mind to wage war on the fractured world was staggering. It was the very scenario that House Eight had long worked to prevent. And here, now, was a boy with intimate knowledge of that mind. If anything could be done to turn back the tide, this boy would surely play a part in it.

But for Wren to undertake all that Haiku had hoped of him, the boy would have to count the cost on his own and choose for himself. No amount of coercion would be strong enough to sustain his resolve under the pressures he would face. Even so, Haiku had to do everything he could to help Wren understand the magnitude of this moment.

“I understand, Wren,” Haiku said. “It would be a big step for you.”

“Maybe you could wait,” Wren said. “For a while. To see.”

“I’m sorry,” Haiku said. “I cannot.” There were days of travel ahead, and Haiku knew the longer Wren stayed, the less likely he would be to ever leave.

The boy didn’t respond. Didn’t raise his eyes to meet Haiku’s.

“I understand there’s no way for you to fully grasp what I’m offering you. And all I’m truly offering is a hard journey to a harder place. Beyond that, I can make no guarantees to you save one: the opportunity you have before you now won’t come again. And it’s one that I do not present lightly. It’s well-considered, and I believe it’s well-deserved. And I’m not the only one who sees that.”

Wren had gone back to picking at his thumb, but he stopped at those words and glanced up at Haiku. Haiku read the reaction.

“Three was an excellent judge of people, Wren. I understand why he responded to you as he did. But there is more to you, I believe, than even he recognized. He couldn’t possibly have known what the Weir would become, or what role you could play in standing against them. Undoubtedly if he were here now, we would agree. Come with me. Maybe the one I take you to will turn us both away. If so, I’ll bring you safely back here again. But if not, Wren, if not, he may well help you find something within yourself that even you do not yet perceive.”

It was dangerous to mention Three, dangerously close to using a sense guilt to sway the boy, and for a moment there was a flicker of something in Wren’s eye. A spark of intrigue, of courage, maybe even of hope. But as quickly as it sprang to life, so too did it cool and fade, crushed beneath the burden of loss too deep and too recently felt. Haiku tried to salvage the moment before it completely slipped away.

“I don’t believe in fate or destiny. I never have. But meeting you, here and now... it’s an opportunity that I believe we could turn to
purpose,
if we will take it.”

“I’m sorry. I am. But I have to wait for my Mama. She’ll look for me here,” Wren repeated.

“There are ways for her to find you, Wren, you know,” jCharles said, “if that’s what you’re worried about. You can tell us where you’re going, and we’ll pass the message along when she gets here.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot do,” Haiku said gently, and he bowed slightly to take the edge off. “I apologize, but great pains have been taken to keep certain secrets. And even for such a case as this, I cannot reveal them.”

jCharles obviously didn’t like that, but he didn’t let it deter him too much. “A pim then. I’m sure she’ll contact you just as soon as she can, and you two can figure it out from there.”

“She won’t pim,” Wren said. “It’s too dangerous. Asher might see it. He’ll use it to track us both.”

“You think they’ll come after you here?” jCharles asked, and there was a subtle note of concern in his voice. Not fear exactly. Not yet. But Haiku heard it in his words; the thought that Wren’s presence in the city might represent a threat to it was only now beginning to occur to jCharles.

“They’ll come,” Wren said. “One night. Maybe soon. Maybe a year from now. But they’ll come.”

“And what if you’re not here?” Haiku asked. “What if you’re hidden away somewhere else?”

Wren shook his head. “I don’t think it’ll matter. He destroyed Chapel’s village, just because they helped me.”

“You don’t know that,” Mol said.

“I believe it,” Wren replied with a shrug. “Just like I believe he’ll come here.”

“Greenstone is too strong for him,” Chapel said. “For now.”

Wren shook his head. “You know how quickly Morningside fell, Chapel. And it was way bigger than Greenstone.”

“Morningside fell under its own weight,” Chapel said. “Its core was rotten. If not for the foolishness at the gate and for your companion’s betrayal, the city might still stand, even against such numbers.”

“You think we’re safe here?” jCharles asked, looking to Chapel.

“For a time,” Chapel answered. “But not forever. Preparations should be made.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing your suggestions,” jCharles said offhandedly.

“I fear you’ll have to see your own way through,” said Chapel, and there was a note in his words that hinted at the plans he’d made for himself.

“Wait,” Wren said, picking up on the tone almost as quickly as Haiku. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

“No,” Chapel said, simply.

The blow was obviously heavy to the boy, and Haiku suppressed his disappointment that the old blind man had chosen that moment to reveal his intentions. The loss of a protector, the unexpected abandonment. These things would push Wren to cling to known comforts, farther from Haiku’s outstretched hand.

“But,” Wren said, “you promised. You promised my mom you’d watch over me.”

“I promised to see you safely to these people,” Chapel answered. “Those promises I give, I keep. But I give few, and those with limits.” Chapel strode to Wren then, and knelt in front of him. “I have played my part, child,” he said. “And I have other work yet to do.”

Wren dropped his head again but Haiku could see the boy was trying to hold back tears.

“I’m sorry to cause you pain,” Chapel said. “But I cannot long ignore the iniquity this city harbors. I must leave it, or set myself to rectify it. For your sake, and the sake of these good people, it is better I should go.”

“Will you ever come back?” Wren asked. And in his voice, Haiku could hear his chance slip away. Wren wouldn’t leave with him now, no matter how long he waited. He was too fixed on what had been, on recovering things lost.

“I have my own path to follow,” Chapel said. “As you have yours. For now they part. Who can say where they may meet again?”

Chapel got to his feet and placed his hand on Wren’s head, a priest granting a silent blessing.

“There is greatness in you, Wren,” he said, after a moment. “If you will embrace it.”

Then he turned to the others.

“Judgment will come to this city,” he said. “I cannot oppose it. But it is my sincere hope that you will tip the balance in your own favor.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence for a time, unsure of what to make of the old man’s proclamations. All except for Haiku, who was taking the measure of the room in hopes of finding a moment or thought on which to hang a final appeal.

“Well,” jCharles finally said. “When you reckon you’ll head out?”

“Soon,” Chapel said.

“Figured that,” said jCharles.

“I assumed Haiku would be departing shortly,” Chapel said, bowing his head towards Haiku. “I thought it best to say all the farewells at one time.”

Haiku nodded at that and got to his feet. Chapel moved back to the front door.

“A thoughtful gesture,” Haiku said. “And I
should
be on my way.” The shift in atmosphere seemed abrupt, a conversation unexpectedly truncated, but Haiku knew lingering wouldn’t help his cause. Better to give Wren a clean break.

“I’ll be leaving through the Dive,” Haiku said, indicating a section of Greenstone on the west side of the city. “In case you change your mind.” He said it to Wren, with a smile, but Wren didn’t smile back.

Haiku’s few belongings were already gathered by the front door to the small apartment. He’d given it his best attempt. There wasn’t much more he could do. It was still his sincere belief that having Wren along could have brought a greater good, but it apparently was not to be. There was no use in considering the courses that might have been. All that mattered was what truly was. One journey had ended, and the next had presented itself with its conclusion. Haiku made himself busy with his small pack, giving the others emotional space to say their final goodbyes to Chapel.

“Thanks for all you’ve done, Chapel,” jCharles said. “We appreciate you getting Wren to us.”

Chapel bowed to jCharles and then to Mol. “Thank you for your patience and your hospitality. I am an unusual guest.”

“And you’re welcome just the same,” Mol said.

“Wren,” said Chapel. “Be well.”

“You too, Chapel. I hope to see you again some day.”

The old man bowed his head to the boy and then without further fanfare, he simply turned and left. Everyone was silent for a few moments after. And then jCharles chuckled.

“That’s a strange cat right there,” he said. “And I do mean cat. Prowling around at odd hours, gone one minute, right behind you the next. I was serious about putting a bell on him, you know.”

“Twitch, enough,” Mol said, but she was suppressing a smile. “You know you’ll miss him.” She hugged Wren a little closer. “We all will.”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” jCharles replied. And then a moment later, he added, “But maybe we can get him to come back around if I leave a little saucer of milk out for him–”

“Oh, you stop,” Mol said, and she laughed in spite of herself. And that beautiful sound cleared some of the heaviness out of the room.

Haiku cinched his pack down and stood, slinging the straps over his shoulders as he did.

“Well,” he said. “Thank you all again, for your graciousness. Wren, to you especially. You’ve done great honor to both Three and to our House.”

“Thanks, Haiku,” the boy answered. “I’m glad we had a chance to meet.”

“Me too. jCharles. Mol. My blessings on your household.”

Mol nodded and waved. “You take care of yourself out there. It was a real treat having you here. Like having a little piece of old times back for a little while. Stop back any time.”

Haiku bowed to her and touched his heart in gratitude. For as much of the land as he’d traveled, he couldn’t remember having met anyone with the genuine warmth and sincere openness that Mol had shown him.

“Goodbye,” said Haiku.

“Bye, Haiku,” Wren said.

Haiku lingered there by the door for a span, just long enough to see if Wren had any final words for him. But the boy had already lowered his eyes back to his own hands again.

“I’ll walk you down,” jCharles said. He opened the door for Haiku, and Haiku gave a final nod to Mol before moving into the narrow stairwell that led down to the bar below. jCharles followed behind, though he didn’t speak again until they’d made it all the way to the front door of the building.

“There anything else you need?” jCharles asked. “You good on food and water?”

“I have all I need,” Haiku answered. “Thank you, jCharles. You’re a good man.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about all that.”

“I do. Three’s friends were few, and he chose them well.”

jCharles’s eyes narrowed at that. “Just what all do you have in that book of yours anyway?”

Haiku just smiled.

“Yeah. Figures,” jCharles said. And then he chuckled and shook his head. “So what’ll you do now?”

“The same I would have done had Wren accompanied me. I’ll go see the man myself. There may still be something he can do.”

jCharles nodded, though he clearly didn’t understand. There was no way he could have.

“Well good luck to you, Haiku. Like my lady said, any time you want to stop by, you’re more than welcome. Town tends to run a little short on good guys.”

“Thank you, jCharles,” Haiku said. He would’ve liked to have added that he’d see the man again some day, but Haiku didn’t make promises he wasn’t certain he could keep.

A
fter the men had departed
, Wren stood by jCharles’s bookshelf by the window. He scanned the books there, reading the occasional title, but mostly just taking in the sense and character of each as his eyes passed over. The shelf wasn’t very tall, no higher than his chest, being just three levels high. It stretched wide, though, maybe ten feet or more. The shelves were completely filled, end to end, with all sorts of volumes. Books of all sizes, all colors. Some were in better shape than others, but all were to one degree or another worn and battered. Mol had called them jCharles’s life work; finding them, buying them, trading for them. Greenstone may very well have been the last place in the world to have a library, and no one who saw the inside of the Samurai McGann would ever guess anything remotely scholarly might reside in the same building. The first time Wren had seen them, he hadn’t understood why anyone would spend any effort at all on them, when any of them could instantly access any information at any time through the digital. But as he became more familiar with them, he saw the value of having the books arrayed before him. Who knew what worlds they contained, what stories they might tell? Things he’d never imagined, nor would have, had those books not drawn his eye and awakened him to the possibilities.