She leapt up from her seat. ‘Thaddea No-Retreat of Clan Macleod.’
Morrigan looked from Hawthorne to Cadence and back again, trying not to giggle. Thaddea who of Clan Macleod?
‘Proudly born and raised atop the Highlands, in the Third Pocket of the Free State,’ Thaddea continued in a resounding voice. ‘Daughter of Mary the Heart-Eater and Malcolm the Mellow, granddaughter of Deirdre the Deathbringer, great-granddaughter of Eileen Never-Surrender, great-great-granddaughter of Ailsa the Tetchy, great-great-great granddaughter of Betty One-Kick, great-great-great-GREAT granddaughter—’
‘Well, Thaddea No-Retreat of Clan Macleod,’ Gavin interrupted, holding up a hand and smiling widely, ‘if you’re that desperate to risk your limbs and spend days smelling like excrement, who am I to stop you? Welcome aboard.’
There was a vaguely shell-shocked round of applause for Thaddea from the older units as she took her seat, and a general sense of relief that all the spots on the mission had been filled and nobody else needed to volunteer.
‘Such a weirdo,’ muttered Cadence, giving her a half-hearted clap.
‘A weirdo who gets to go into the sewers at night and hunt monsters,’ Thaddea pointed out triumphantly, as if she’d just been granted the best treat imaginable. Cadence looked at Morrigan, and they shook their heads in bewilderment.
Gavin gave instructions for Team Scaly Sewer Beast to meet the following day and discuss their strategy, then ceded the floor to Holliday Wu from the Public Distraction Department.
Morrigan wasn’t sure she’d ever had reason or inclination to use the word ‘fabulous’ before, but there was no other word for Ms Wu. She wore the tallest, shiniest shoes Morrigan had ever seen, fiery red lipstick and a tailored, aubergine-coloured three-piece suit. She had a high, sleek black ponytail with a shaved undercut, and a row of hefty diamond studs along the entire outer edge of her left ear. She was better dressed than even Jupiter. She was fabulous.
‘Right, the Unusual Engineering team will be shutting down Nevermoor’s entire sewage system and the Wunderground network while the Beastly Division hunts for these disgusting things,’ she announced without preamble. ‘Gavin assures me he can get the job done in two to three hours. It will begin at dusk, because that’s when the Nevermoor Ugly Sewer Whatever is most active and therefore easiest to locate.
‘With that in mind: we need a massive, cross-borough Distraction that will keep a city full of people occupied for three hours at peak travel time on a weeknight, during which they cannot use trains or flush the loo. Not a small ask, and the last thing we want is to create mass panic.’ Holliday brought up a map of Nevermoor on the projector, marked in several places with a large red X. ‘We also need to ensure the population is kept away from these thirteen locations specifically, which have been identified by the Beastly Division as high-risk areas – breeding hotspots for the Nevermoor Creepy Vomit-Thing. We will need to shepherd as many people as possible away from these locations, including those who live there. Now, as usual—’
‘Why?’ Morrigan called out, before she’d even realised she’d opened her mouth. The room fell silent and everyone turned to look at her.
‘Why what?’ asked Holliday, a line of confusion creasing her brow.
Morrigan’s face burned. The question had been percolating in the back of her head ever since Elder Quinn’s speech to Unit 919. But she hadn’t actually meant to ask it out loud. Her gaze flicked over to Jupiter, and she saw he was smiling at her. He gave a small, encouraging nod. She cleared her throat and sat up straight.
‘Why … do we have to distract people?’
There were a few sniggers from the front rows, but most people just looked perplexed. Holliday, however, narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
‘Are you trying to be funny?’
‘No!’ Morrigan said quickly. ‘I just mean … well. Why can’t people know the truth about Nevermoor? They live here. Wouldn’t it be sort of … easier? And maybe safer? If everyone knew, they could just stay calm and … I suppose … keep out of the way.’
She trailed off as her question was met with a rumble of laughter. Many of the older Society members were shaking their heads.
However, just as she was wishing a large bird of prey would swoop into the room, pluck her from her chair and carry her very far away, Elder Saga the bullwun took the floor and glared them all into silence. It was a formidable glare, made all the more impressive by the sight of his enormous horns, broad shaggy chest, and the intimidating way he was inclined to stamp his hooves.
‘It’s not an unreasonable question,’ he said in his deep, rumbling voice. ‘There are occasions when we tell people – at least some people. Those who need to know. Our own internal law enforcement regularly liaises with the Nevermoor City Police Force, for example, and authorities across all Seven Pockets of the Free State. Sometimes we even share information with the Prime Minister’s office, who will pass it on to the public as they see fit. But that’s a last resort, generally speaking.’
Morrigan swallowed, and couldn’t help asking again: ‘Why?’
‘Because often, Miss Crow, telling people they are at risk creates a different, sometimes even greater risk. People are dangerous when they’re frightened. Remember that.’
Elder Saga said those last few words to the room at large, fixing them with his trademark unwavering gaze, then yielded the floor to Holliday Wu – who carried on as if there had been no interruption.
‘As usual, we do expect backlash. We can’t avoid that. What we can avoid is people getting in our way, getting hurt, and messing things up for us.’ Holliday crossed her arms and swung her ponytail back over her shoulder. ‘Ideas?’
‘What about what we did last breeding season?’ called out one of the older scholars. ‘Fireworks night? It got everyone looking up instead of down.’
She gave one short, sharp shake of her head. ‘It also scared the sewer beasts deeper into hiding. Stupidest idea we’ve ever had, to be honest – too noisy, too expensive.’ Holliday’s expression was cool, but her jaw tightened very slightly. Morrigan could tell the memory of this failure still rankled. ‘Anyone else?’
A round of ideas shouted from the gallery included a parade, a citywide blackout and a targeted tornado, each of which Holliday shot down in flames.
‘Come on, people, you’ve just named all the things we did the last four years. Let’s try to innovate.’
‘We could declare war on the Second Pocket!’
Holliday shot a scathing look at the person who suggested that. To Morrigan’s utter lack of surprise, it was the odious Baz Charlton, Cadence’s patron.
‘Idiot,’ Cadence whispered next to her.
‘And then what?’ Holliday asked Baz in a flat voice.
He shrugged. ‘And then … cancel it?’
She rolled her eyes and then scanned the audience again. ‘Any ideas that won’t incite further mass panic?’
The Gathering Place fell to quiet muttering as people seemed to run out of steam. Finally, Jupiter raised a hand, and the muttering instantly ceased. Morrigan could almost feel the room leaning forward to hear what Captain Jupiter North had to say.