Just then, a shout from the girrinos rang out. Simber turned sharply and rose to his feet. He bounded toward the gate. “Attackerrrs at the gate! Hurrry!”
The four friends, staring at their now-helpless instructors, hesitated and then ran after Simber, realizing there was no time to release the spells if they were to defeat the attack from Quill.
The four students drew components from their vests as they ran to the entrance where the girrinos were already fighting mightily. Simber charged after several Quillans who tried to sneak past the gatekeepers. Alex, Samheed, Lani, and Meghan all fired and hit their targets, then pulled out another round and fired, knocking flat four more attackers, all the while hearing Ms. Morning screaming in the background, Florence stomping around like a giant robot, and a loud sproing, sproing coming from Ms. Octavia’s bobbly head.
Others came running just as Simber chased the remaining attackers into Quill. When Alex saw that everyone had been contained, he hurried back to the instructors, releasing Ms. Morning first to stop the screaming, then the other ladies, and then finally he knelt down next to Mr. Today and released the heart attack spell. The old mage’s face had gone gray. After several long, stressful moments of waiting finally the man gulped in a breath and coughed quite savagely. He lay still for a moment, his eyes confused, and then slowly a wide grin crossed his face. He struggled to sit up, and then weakly he clapped Alex on the back.
“That’s a keeper,” he said, eyes wide. “Stunning.” He shook his head as everyone else ran off to get a look at the enchanted attackers, two of whom were still screaming. “I really thought I was gone there for a moment, Alex. Make a note not to wait too long to release the spell on that one.” He chuckled good-naturedly and held out a hand. Alex helped him to his feet. “Did anything exciting happen while I was out?”
Ms. Morning’s Secret
Once the eight remaining Quill opponents were disarmed, Alex put their arms into connecting clay shackles, and then the original spells were released.
Ms. Morning, back to her usual self, stood tapping one foot impatiently next to the heart attack victim, waiting for him to regain consciousness. A variety of Unwanteds took care of the other seven, prodding them toward the gate and sending them on their way, still connected. Mr. Today called on Charlie the gargoyle to communicate with Matilda at the palace, informing them that the high priest might find the prisoners along the road if he should choose to incarcerate them.
The instructors and the students, except for Ms. Morning, stood around in a circle discussing excitedly what had happened, when heart attack victim number one came to. He opened his eyes, sucked in a breath and coughed, and then looked up at his captor.
The two had exchanged glances once before, at the last attack, but he’d gotten away. Now, shackled and weak, he was trapped.
“Hello, Claire,” he said, defeated. He coughed again.
“Liam,” she said evenly.
He struggled to get up, and she did not help him. It took him several moments to finagle his way to his feet, his arms shackled as they were behind his back, and he toppled onto his face twice before he succeeded. Finally he stood up, wiping the gravel from his cheek with a shrug of his shoulder.
Ms. Morning stood with one hand on her hip, her eyes searching his face, betraying nothing. “Your family?” she asked.
“Both parents in the Ancients Sector,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He appeared puzzled by the sentiment. “Why?”
“Because it’s hard to watch your parents die.”
“It’s the way things are. Soon enough forgotten,” he said.
“Maybe for you. For people like you.”
“You say that with contempt.”
“That surprises you? Look what you’re doing to Artimé! It wasn’t enough to kill us once?”
Liam stepped back, alarmed, but spoke in the calm, brainwashed voice of Quill, “I didn’t kill you. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“No, of course not. No one is responsible,” Ms. Morning said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. “No one in Quill is responsible for any of your sickening ways. No one questions anything. No one has a conscience. I’m surprised you even remember me’aren’t you programmed to forget?”
Liam stared at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Quill was a perfect land before Artimé was exposed. We just want our country back.”
Claire’s eyes blazed. “Everyone in here is your countryman. Did you ever think about it, Liam? Did you? After they took me away in chains, and we exchanged one last look’did you think I deserved that? Did you ever try to stop it? Or did you just accept that others knew better than you?”
Liam’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak.
Claire wasn’t finished. “Did you even think about me afterward or did you just do as they told you to do? How is that human? Can you tell me how being forced to forget the ones you love is natural and good and right? Because I don’t understand.”
The small group of instructors and students had turned their attention to Ms. Morning and all now watched in silence.
Liam grew pale. “I’”
Ms. Morning lowered her voice. “Do you have a heart in there somewhere, Liam? You must, or the spell wouldn’t have worked.” She laughed bitterly. “I always held out hope for you. For twenty-five years I’ve thought, ‘He’s not like the others.’ Yet here you are.” She shook her head, caught between anger and tears. “You are disgusting.”