Morrigan felt sick. She wanted to cover her ears or run away, but she also felt an irresistible compulsion to know more.
‘The Wundrous Society’s purpose now is to protect Nevermoor – and the greater Free State – from the corrupt and dangerous creations of Wundersmiths past. From the chaos that still thrives here. The chaos we ourselves allowed into this city, through our weakness and our failure to act in time.
‘We must right our past wrongs,’ boomed Elder Quinn’s disembodied voice. ‘We must close old wounds, even if the scars remain.’
‘Hold on to something,’ said Lam.
‘What did you say?’ said Anah in a stricken voice. ‘What did she say?’
But Morrigan and Cadence had already pressed themselves back against the walls of the tiny room, because there was nothing else to hold on to. Hawthorne copied them, and Mahir, Arch and Thaddea quickly followed.
There was a sound like a rush of air, then a mechanical grinding and a thud, and suddenly it felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath them. Anah and Francis, who hadn’t taken Lam’s advice quickly enough, fell to the ground and had to scramble back up again, crawling towards the edges of the classroom.
The room was moving. Falling downwards in darkness at an alarming speed.
‘What is happening?’ cried Anah.
‘Be quiet,’ snapped Morrigan, because Elder Quinn was still speaking calmly over the noise of their movement, and she didn’t want to miss a single word.
The descent stopped abruptly, and the room moved forward like a train in a tunnel, throwing them against the back wall.
‘Over many Ages and with tireless, meticulous work,’ Elder Quinn continued as the room rushed onwards, ‘we have managed to bring several of Nevermoor’s monstrous populations under our control. We have done this using a combination of sorcery, witchery, brute force, and in some cases, good old-fashioned diplomacy and negotiation. We do this in secret, to protect our city from the deadly and chaotic forces that would prey on its people.’
Thunk. They came to another sudden stop, and they were all thrown to the right-side wall as the room changed direction.
‘I think I’m gonna be sick,’ groaned Hawthorne.
‘Don’t you DARE!’ Cadence shouted at him.
Elder Quinn’s voice carried on, oblivious to the drama in the room. ‘Some of the threats you have just witnessed are under strict Wundrous Society regulation. For example, the Vool – those shapeshifting, mimicking avian creatures you saw perched in the trees. The Vool population was once a vicious, widespread threat to the lives of Nevermoorians. It took more than fifty years, but now their numbers – and their behaviours – are manageable. The Vool are perhaps our greatest success.
‘Some of the monstrosities you saw could not be described as under our control, but after Ages of careful diplomacy they have been allied to our cause and are accepted by the Society as a force for good in protecting Nevermoor and the Free State. For example, the trees of the Whinging Woods were our invited guests to your inauguration, willing and eager to participate in what we consider an important training tool for our newest members.
‘And finally, some of the monsters in this demonstration have been exploited for the predictability of their behaviours. The creatures you saw outside the gates of Wunsoc are called Slinghouls. We do not negotiate with Slinghouls. Diplomacy does not work on a Slinghoul. Fortunately, they are predictable, and can be both managed and avoided. We do our best.
‘Your inauguration night was a carefully manoeuvred sequence of events designed to educate and inform, and we hope it has helped you understand what we as an organisation are trying to achieve.’
During this long speech, the room changed direction once more, twice more, three times and then again – hard left, up, left again, right, and down again. It felt like they’d travelled for miles at an ever-increasing speed, but finally the room slowed to a halt. The lights came back on.
Morrigan opened her eyes. Unit 919 sat on the ground, backs pressed against the wall, trying to catch their breath. Nobody spoke.
The door opened, and Elder Quinn entered the room. She started a little when she saw them on the floor.
‘Goodness me,’ she said, pointing up at the safety loops dangling from the ceiling, which they had all failed to notice. She made a little hooking gesture with her finger. ‘Didn’t any of you bring a brolly?’
Morrigan closed her eyes again, silently willing her lunch to stay just where it was.
Slightly battered and wholly baffled, Unit 919 followed Elder Quinn out of the tiny room and down a long, brightly lit hallway. It was wide and rather grand, lined with portraits of former Elders and gas lamps set in sconces, and it reminded Morrigan of the Hotel Deucalion.
‘Containment and Distraction is like trying to plug a thousand tiny leaking holes using only ten fingers,’ Elder Quinn told them as she shuffled along more quickly than Morrigan would have thought her able to. ‘It is an endless, thankless, dirty, dangerous, repetitious job, but one that we are privileged to perform. And now, that privilege is also yours.’
She turned her head to either side, glancing at the scholars scurrying along behind her.
‘I know what you’re all wondering. Same thing they wonder every year. What does this mean for you? Have you been unwittingly drafted into an army to fight against the forces of darkness, to spend the rest of your lives battling the creatures of the night?’
That was not at all what Morrigan had been wondering, but now she was.
‘Well, perhaps. If that’s what you want. If that’s what you’re good at. Or perhaps you will never have to see any of these wretched things again. Perhaps your destiny, your lifelong role in the Wundrous Society, is to bring light to the world, in whatever form that might take – music, or art, or politics, or making a truly excellent leek and potato soup – to balance out the dark. To distract people from it. To keep Nevermoor from being consumed by it.’
Elder Quinn stopped at the end of the hallway, just outside the doors, and turned to face Unit 919. She was several inches shorter than most of them, but Morrigan felt she was being stared down by a giant.
‘I do not know what role each of you scholars will play in the vital work of the Wundrous Society,’ she said in a low voice. ‘That is up to you.’
The doors opened behind her.
‘Welcome to the Gathering Place.’
CHAPTER THREE
The Gathering Place
It was a bit like walking into the Trollosseum. Except indoors, and darker, and smaller, and the arena-style seating was filled with reasonably well-behaved Wundrous Society members, instead of rambunctious louts bellowing encouragement at trolls to spill more blood and knock each other’s heads off.
‘This week’s gathering has already begun,’ murmured Elder Quinn, directing them to a knot of empty seats towards the back of the amphitheatre. ‘Usually the junior units sit closer to the centre, as you can see, but as it’s your first time attending, you may sit here in the back and observe.’
She left them to get settled and headed down an aisle of stairs to the centre of the circular room, where Elder Saga had kept her a seat. Elder Wong was standing on the dais, holding court.