“Do you think I should take him some water?” Wren asked across the room.
Cass stopped her conversation and looked over her shoulder at him. She smiled gently and then nodded. “Sure, baby. That’d be very thoughtful. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
Wren rummaged around and found several empty steel drinking canisters in a cabinet. He took one and filled it with water from a nearby tap. The water ran cold and clear, drawing from a reservoir deep within the ground. Mouse had once explained how the compound’s system worked, but all Wren remembered clearly was that it was a combination of natural water collected mostly from rainfall and water recycled from other sources. The fact that Mouse had stressed how many times the water was filtered and sterilized made Wren uneasy about what exactly “other sources” might have meant.
With the canister full, Wren walked carefully back to the other room, quiet so he didn’t disrupt Painter, listening carefully to see if he’d started crying again. As Wren got close to the room, though, he heard Painter muttering. He leaned closer, straining to make out the words.
“I swear,” Painter said. “I swear I will find them, Snow. I will find them and I will drain every last drop of blood from their veins for you. I swear it.”
The words sent a shock of cold racing through Wren’s body, like ice water through his veins. He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Painter shifted in the room and sounded like he was standing up. Afraid of being caught in the hall, Wren crept slowly backwards, and then quickly made his way back to the front room. Too afraid to face Painter, terrified by what he’d overheard.
When he reached the front room, Mouse had joined the others. Wren’s mind was flooded with emotion and thought. Surely he had to tell someone. Or did he? Was there anything to Painter’s words besides the raw emotion anyone would feel in his situation? Had he even heard him right?
“Didn’t want it?” Cass said. Her words called Wren to the moment, but meant nothing to him.
“What?” he said.
“The water. He didn’t want it?”
Wren shook his head and paused, trying to figure out how much of the truth to tell them. But they didn’t give him a chance.
“We need to get up to the Council Room,” said Cass. “Everyone else is already there.”
“What about Painter?” Wren asked.
“I’ll keep him company,” Mouse answered. His cheek had a sheen where he’d sealed the lacerations. Now they were just two thin red lines running along his high cheekbone, maybe half an inch from his eye. “And I’ll walk him back when he’s ready.”
“Able thought maybe we ought to keep him here for a day or two. Make sure he’s not going to hurt himself.”
Or anyone else, Able added.
Mouse ran a hand along his jawline, scratched at the coarse stubble while he mulled it over. “I guess we could put him up on our floor.”
Able nodded.
“Alright, I’ll talk to Swoop about it. See what we can work out.”
“Thanks, Mouse,” Cass said. Mouse just dipped his head in something between a nod and a bow. She looked back at Wren. “Why don’t you leave that with Mouse, sweetheart?”
Wren handed the canister of water to the big man, who in turn placed a huge hand gently on top of Wren’s head. A momentary reassuring touch, like a priest offering a blessing. He didn’t tousle Wren’s hair, though, and Wren always appreciated him for that. Cass stretched out her hand to Wren. He reached up and took it, warm and soothing. But just as they were turning to go, Painter appeared in the doorway.
“Hey,” he said, head bowed, staring down at the floor.
Wren was glad for that. He knew he couldn’t have met Painter’s eyes. “I’m suh-sorry… for all of th-th-that,” Painter said.
“We all understand, Painter,” Cass answered. “You don’t need to apologize.”
He shook his head. “I do. I do nnnn-need to.” He raised his eyes, glanced around at them. Wren started to look away, but caught himself. Painter looked calmer, softer. More like his usual self. “I sh-sh-shhh… I shouldn’t have l-lost control like that. I’m real sorry. Especially to you, Mouse.”
Mouse walked over and laid a hand on Painter’s shoulder. “All’s well with us, son.” He squeezed Painter’s shoulder once, dipped his head in a meaningful nod, and then let go and propped himself against the nearby wall.
“We were just going up,” Wren said, finding himself starting to feel better. “I have to give an address. Want to come with us?”
Painter smiled at him a little sadly. “Actually, if you d-d-don’t mind. I was wuh-wuh, I was wondering if I could buh-buh…” his lips tightened as he fought to force the word out. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “…I’d like to bury my sister.”
“Why don’t you wait?” Cass said. “After the address, we’ll all do it together.”
Painter shook his head. “I’d like to d-d-do it alone, Miss Cass. There’s a p-p-p-place we used to go as k-kids. Just us. Our secret place.”
“Burying’s hard work, son,” said Mouse. “Harder when it’s your own.”
“I, I think… I think she would’ve w-w-wanted it, this way. And I’m a l-l-luh, I’m a lot stronger than I look.” He added a little smile, but there was no humor in it. Mouse, Cass, and Able all exchanged looks, and all seemed to agree.
“Alright,” Mouse said. “You all go on. I’ll make sure he’s got what he needs.”
“Come on back to the compound when you’re done, OK?” Cass said. “We’d like you to stay with us for a little while.”
“Thank you, Miss Cass, b-b-but I’ll be alright.”
“I know you will be, but we still want you here.”
“Maybe just a night or two,” Painter said. “If it’s n-n-n-not any tr-tr-trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” said Mouse. “We’ve got it all taken care of.”
“Well… alright. Th-thank you.” Painter’s shoulders relaxed and Wren could tell he was really moved and relieved. It would be good for him to be surrounded by friends.
We need to go, Able signed, and Cass nodded.
“We’ve got to run, Painter. After you… when you’re done, just come to the side gate again, OK? We’ll take of everything.”
Painter nodded. “Th-th-thanks.”
“Mouse, you’ll be on the wall after?” Cass asked.
“Yeah, Finn’s covering till I get there. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Alright, see you in a few,” she said. “Painter.”
Painter raised his hand in goodbye. He looked at Wren. “Good luck, l-l-little buddy.”
“Thanks,” Wren answered. He almost said “you too”, but stopped himself. “See you later.” It sounded too casual for the moment, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Wren took his mama’s hand again, and together they followed Able through the wide and empty halls up to the Council Room. His stomach churned the whole way, adrenaline and anxiety mingling together. He was still shaken from Painter’s violent reaction, and the thought of standing in front of a crowd of people made his chest feel like it was buzzing.
They reached the Council Room where Aron, Vye, and North were waiting for them.
“Lady Cass,” Aron said, bowing slightly when he saw them. “Governor.”
“Hi, Uncle Aron,” Wren said.
“The others?” Cass asked.
“Already outside,” North answered. “The crowd formed earlier than we expected.”