by Lenore, Lani
“Duality?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said with a nod of his head. “Remember duality. Tell him that for me, if you would.”
Slowly, she began to nod. “I will,” she promised, even though she did not understand it. “If I meet him, I will.”
When he said nothing else, she decided that their conversation was over. She would not beg him to come with them, for to do so would be futile, she knew. He had made this choice. Wren turned away from him, passing down the slope to join Nix who remained, waiting for her. The others had already gone on in front of them.
“And good luck,” Mach called, “with that quest of yours.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder but did not stop. She sent a glance at Nix, and without words, he started off with her, perpetually at her side, even despite awkward encounters.
Yes, she thought as her feet moved briskly across the ground. It will not be long now.
3
Sitting alone, the boy without eyes folded his hands. He was seeing once again – feeling – but he never did stop, did he? He could not stop feeling the island. Within himself, he felt her, and he hated to admit it, but her presence was like a dark, ominous cloud that would bring a terrible storm. She, however, was not the only dark thing that he felt.
Everything was jumbled now. He could not see clearly. It would not be easy anymore. He knew that all he could do was wait – wait and feel things out as he went.
“She is close now,” he said to himself. “Soon, I will see.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
1
It was fully dark by the time they reached the Tribal settlement in the plains, but the light and warmth of a large bonfire welcomed them. Tents and huts were set up all around, covered in stained etchings, and the camp was filled with many things that one would associate with a thriving settlement – not one that struggled by the day to survive. This place – it looked as it should have looked. The people with the dark skin and curious dress of fur and bone were smiling and keeping company with one another, as if they were completely unaware of the corruption in the other parts of the land. This place was untainted. There was no darkness here.
It was a strange thing that Wren had just happened to notice – she wasn’t sure that anyone else had – but this area of ground was much grassier than the dying land around it. It was as if this specific patch of earth was sacred – set apart. How was it possible? Could this one area actually be untouched?
When Wren and her companions stepped foot onto that ground, there seemed to be some sort of feast going on, and when Calico moved into the area, her people were joyous – but not surprised – to see her. She was met by several of them who put their hands on her welcomingly, accepting her back, but she quickly began to speak to them in a language Wren did not understand.
Wren leaned closer to Finn. “Do you know what they are saying?” she asked quietly.
“I’ve ever been too good with their language, but I think she told them who we are and that they should welcome us. She then inquired as to the whereabouts of a certain person.”
“Who?”
Wren did not get her answer before several women of pleasant demeanor were ushering them toward food, and there was not one among them who was going to deny himself the feast. They ate more than their fill and sat about lazily afterward, satisfied and comfortably warm. Around them, the people sang in low tones and danced energetically, playing an array of flutes and drums. Tribals of all ages were talking and laughing with each other, enjoying the communion. Wren watched all this, trying to feel the cause for celebration, but she could not. She had expected to be cheerful and anxious upon reaching this point, but now that she was here, all she felt was trepidation. She dreaded nothing like the morrow.
Several hours travel from here was the ruined Tribal camp, certainly not in the same place it had once been because of how the land had rearranged itself, and after they had assembled there, Rifter would meet them. It was strange but she dreaded seeing him most of all. She wanted the truth, but she feared the worst. She feared that everything Rifter would tell them would be a lie. Whether or not he was truly at fault, he was going to lie. The thought made her sick inside her heart.
Suddenly, Wren wondered why she had brought them – her friends – here. If something terrible happened on that cliff, perhaps not with Rifter, but something else, would she be able to forgive herself for taking them into danger?
She tried not to think of it, and yet she couldn’t afford not to.
“Are you alright, Wren?” The voice, muffled by food, belonged to Toss, who sat beside her. She looked up to his face, seeing the bit of food lingering in his scrappy beard.
“I’m fine,” she said, managing a smile just for him. “Just tired.”
“Try to cheer up,” he encouraged her. “It’s like the old days!”
She forced herself to nod and he went back to his eating, looking quite pleased. It was as if there was nothing awful on his mind. She envied his blind trust.
Wren peered about to locate the others in the large circle around the fire, where the Tribals continued with their droning songs. Calico was nowhere to be seen – at least was not visible within the crowd of her own people. Wren spotted Finn charming two pretty Tribal maidens, talking away as they giggled, but Wren wasn’t sure they even knew what he was saying. He didn’t seem to be bothered by that. He talked on without a care.
Looking on, Wren’s eyes found Nix precisely where she’d thought they would: beneath a cloud of thick smoke. He’d taken up well with these people, and their smoke was just as good as his own – perhaps better by the look of things. He looked very relaxed across there, ready to drift off into a most perfect sleep at any moment. How nice it must have been. Wren longed for that feeling.
He glanced up and met her gaze by chance, and at the corner of his mouth, she thought she could see the faintest smug curve. It said one thing to her:
I told you, didn’t I?
Yes, he had warned her against her blind faith, and now he could see her doubts. She admitted it to herself, but not aloud. She had not completely given up on Rifter, but she was afraid of what he would say and why he would lie. Nix had been trying to tell her this all along.
She saw his lips move past the smoke, forming a word she couldn’t hear.
Wren… He was calling for her. She almost went to him, but her resolve was broken by a hand on her shoulder and a voice in her ear.
“Wren, will you come with me?”
She turned to see Calico leaning over her, peering intently into her eyes. Shaken, Wren could not answer right away. How could she forget that this savage maiden had tried to steal off with her before, and in this much confusion, it would not be hard to do again.
“Why? What is it?”
“He wants to see you.” That was all Calico said, and Wren found herself rising despite her better judgment.
She followed the huntress through the dark, away from the camp and the sounds of celebration. Calico had cleaned herself up, now in a more traditional garment common to the women of her people – a wrapped dress covered in painted designs.
Wren wondered where she was being led and almost mentioned that she did not wish to go too far, but the amount of vegetation this way had stolen her thoughts. The grass was very tall here, and there were numerous flowers blooming across the ground. Was this dew on the grass, dampening her heels? Wren followed Calico down a path lit by torches and fireflies until they came to a pond, where finally they stopped. Immediately, Wren noted that the water was pure. It was not black or stagnate like the rest she had seen.
There were crystals glowing around the edge of the pond, and from that light, Wren saw him. Standing on a large rock at the pond’s edge, facing the water, was a boy.
Wren stared at him for a long time before she dared to speak. She had lost track of Calico, and she could not say whether the girl had left or if she was standing right beside her. This boy – there was something very
strange about him.
He stood there, wearing clothes that were accented with fur much like that of a raccoon. Three long, full tails of gray-brown and black stripes hung from the back of his pants. Trophies? Perhaps. Pointed ears, possibly from the same sort of creature, were mounted atop his head on either side. Thick, feathery hair fell to his shoulders, the same color as the gray-brown fur he wore.
But, wait…
Wren took a few steps closer. Was that a swish of those tails not brought on by wind? Had she seen a flick of one of those pointed, furry ears atop his head?
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she heard a voice say. He was speaking, and his voice was the gentlest, smoothest sound she had ever heard, like the wind whispering through the grass. “But there’s still fault with it. It makes everything else so sad. It’s not fair to the rest of the land for this place to be so beautiful. But nothing else can be done now. That is why you are here, I imagine. You would hope to save this forsaken dreamscape of ours.”
He turned to face her, and she saw the fullness of his truth. He was a boy, but he was also a creature. The ears and the tails were not trophies. They were his own. Wren looked at his hands, seeing that they were like human hands, only they were also like the fleshy claws of a rat. Long nails protruded from them. All those features were striking enough, but there was one more thing that she couldn’t help noticing. Over his eyes, there was tied a bandage bearing marks similar to those on Nix’s arms. She gasped, recalling his talk of how beautiful this land was. But how could he have possibly known?
This animal boy was blind.
He stood patiently, as if knowing that she wanted to examine him. When she had finished, and not a moment before, he hopped down from the rock and approached her. Wren noticed that he was near her age, but he could not have been much taller than she. His body was thin, but it did not look frail; only muscle and bone, it seemed.
“Wren,” he said with a calm, gentle voice. His delicate lips smiled at her and he held out his strange hands for her to put her own inside.
Of all the boys she had reunited with, as soon as he had said her name, she knew him instantly.
“Sly,” she addressed with quiet sympathy, taking his hands without hesitation. “What has happened to you?”
2
Glowing eyes like crushed amber looked onward into the distance. The Rifter sat alone in the dark, waiting for the moment when they would come. He was certain they were on their way. He had given Wren instructions, and he knew she would do her best to fulfill them.
Ah, Wren. He thought of her fondly then. She was beautiful, her hair so long and soft. Her eyes looked at him so adoringly – and that was the most important thing. Beyond her initial fear, she looked at him like she could not ever look at anyone else, and Rifter loved that about her most.
He sighed as he sat, waiting for her. She would be along soon. Would she bring all of the boys as she had promised?
She will. She will not let me down.
As he sat amidst the ruins in the dark of the night, he was suddenly aware of a presence behind him. He was not alarmed, however. Rifter peered back over his shoulder halfheartedly, and a gleam of light was there to catch his attention.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he warned.
An apology reached his ears. What sounded to most like an uncommon whisper could be interpreted into perfect English by him.
“I wanted to see you,” the fairy said. “I haven’t been near you like this in a very long time.”
Whisper moved hesitantly through the air on her shimmering, transparent wings, edging toward the boy she loved. He did not look at her, only out into the distance.
“We can’t be together like this. We have gone our separate ways. You remember.”
He knew she did. Whisper looked down at her hands with sadness in her eyes.
“I could have let you stay with me if you hadn’t gone after Wren in the otherworld. That was the choice you made.”
“Just tell me once, so that I might be content,” she pleaded. “Tell me that if I was Wren’s size, you would have me in her place!”
He sent his odd gaze to the fairy wisp who had been his companion. She had looked after Rifter since the beginning of it all, and all she had done had been to protect him. She had tried to destroy Wren because she thought it was best to keep him safe, and while he knew these things, he could not choose both of them for the same task.
Whisper was right when she said that they had not been together in a long time. It would not be acceptable for them to be seen together now. They should have been bitterly opposed, but who would see them? This place was deserted for now. No one was around for miles, save for them, and oddly, he did not feel so hateful toward her. He held out his hand.
“Please,” she said. “Tell me that you still love me.”
Rifter smiled wickedly. “I will tell you that if you were Wren’s size, you would not want to be in her place.”
Absently as he stared off into the distance, he stroked the length of her torso with his thumb. The fairy sighed in ecstasy at the caress of his fingers, but Rifter was not with her in his mind. On his face was an expression of resolve.
“They will come,” he said, though his tone was angry at the thought that they might not come. “It is the only way. She will not fail me. She will not–”
At a sharp pain, Rifter gripped his chest, releasing the glowing creature that had been so content in his grip. His mouth twisted in an awful grimace, bearing his fangs. This old pain… Would it never cease?
When he opened his eyes, he saw that Whisper was hovering there, full of concern. She coaxed his hands away and untied the strings that bound his shirt, pulling at them until the material fell open. There, in the middle of his firm chest, was the scar.
The wound had been deep and had healed badly, running from his collar bone all the way to his navel. But it was not the only one. There were many others, marks where he had been stabbed and shot, murdered again and again, yet he was not dead. Whisper shook her head sorrowfully at the sight. The white-haired boy sighed.
“After so long, I don’t understand why there is still pain.” His voice changed from sorrow to determination. “But Wren’s going to see that it goes away very soon. Then they will all help me take this world. We will fix Nevermor yet.”
Even beyond his pain, the Rifter smiled. Within him, a fire flared.
3
Whisper did not stop to think that Rifter’s words might mean bad things for her. But it was as he’d said. She’d made her choices. She was glad to have seen his face, but knew she would not see it again until all was said and done. Apart, they would see what the end brought them, but she could not but wish for an outcome that would have them together again – only the two of them as it had been in the beginning. The time was not right yet, however; she would wait. Yet there was a fear hanging in the back of her mind.
Whisper worried that when it ended, they would not both survive.
Chapter Twenty-Five
1
“What happened to me, you ask? That is a difficult question indeed.”
Sly had urged Wren to sit in the grass across from him while he explained himself. Nearby, the untainted water of the pond sparkled with the light of the crystals. The boy with no eyes had not ceased to hold her hands since she had presented them to him, but this affection did not make her feel uncomfortable. The touch of his strange, animal-like hands did nothing but make her feel at ease. She felt that she could tell him her darkest secrets without judgment, but at this moment, she wanted to hear about him instead. There was time for confidence later.
“It is certain that you have gathered a story or two,” he said. “Would you tell me what you have heard about me so that I might separate fact from fiction?”
His fingers slid over her hands in the nervous way of the blind – constantly looking with touch. If his touch was equivalent to his eyes, he stared at her hands intently. She did not understand why, but she was
obliged to answer his question.
“I have not been told much about you,” she said, her voice made soft by listening to his. “I have only heard you were the second boy to leave Rifter, but that you waited until Rifter returned from his search for Nix. I was told that you had made up your mind that, if Rifter did not bring Nix back, you would leave. The only thing that I have been told about where you actually went was that you were going ‘into the sun’.”
Wren added, for good measure: “And then there is the constant phrase I have heard throughout. They all seem to believe that ‘Sly would know’, when I ask a question they cannot answer.”
A pleasant smile crossed his lips. “Yes, and surprising to me, every bit of what you have recounted to me is true. It also gives me a decent place to begin my explanation. I will start with Rifter.”
Wren listened anxiously. Someone was finally going to reveal their true thoughts and reasons without thinking they had to hide them from her? Honesty, such a thing was nearly unfathomable at this point.
“Far be it for me to explain the behavior of Rifter and the thoughts of his mind. After all that happened, I believe you know him better than anyone, even though I had tried to discourage you from it. Surely you must already have guessed what he was like once he returned from that ghastly ordeal with the demon within. He did not tell us at first – not about what Whisper had done or about the demon. He tried to hide it, as Rifter so predictably would. Poorly. We were not unaware. Something was troubling him. This was after we had already begun to grow older. We had all changed and become more reliant on our own thoughts.
“As time passed, we began to resent Rifter for his secrecy. We had noticed the changes in him, but he insisted on remaining distant from us, becoming violent on a whim. His mood and personality would shift without warning. A few of us kept our thoughts secret on the matter, but some – Nix and Mech in particular – voiced their opinions very openly until finally Rifter let his defenses fall and was forced to tell us the truth.
