Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor)

by Lenore, Lani

  3

  Away from the fire’s light, Wren was resting on the ground, wrapped in the thick warmth of an old blanket beneath the cover of a slanted tent. She’d thought that she would have a better chance of finding rest if she gave herself a bit of distance from the others. She’d thought she was tired, but that did not seem to be it at all. In fact, she was extremely restless, and it was his fault.

  She lent her gaze to Rifter, seeing that he was sitting with his back to her, working once again on his weapons. He was smoking that forsaken pipe – as if he might have immediately kicked the habit he’d forced on himself. He was acting no different than he had been before – when he’d pretended to be Nix – so how could she be surprised that he hadn’t changed his disposition? Still, she couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to be near her. The false Rifter had shown her more affection than this. She knew his secret now, so why wouldn’t he come near?

  As if he had heard her rapid thoughts, he turned his head just slightly to peer at her.

  “You should really try to get some rest.”

  I don’t sleep. “And you?” she inquired.

  “Who knows what will happen in the night. Someone has to be alert. But I can’t afford for you to be tired. None of us can.”

  He was avoiding her. Why? Wren rose up, carrying the blanket with her to plant herself beside him. He didn’t say anything when she did so, simply examining his knife before taking to it again with a whet stone.

  Wren needed conversation now, even if it was meaningless, to know that he was there with her. She started off on the first thing that came into her mind.

  “How do you think they really feel about all this?” she asked him.

  Though all she truly wanted was his acknowledgment, this was something she had been thinking of earlier on in the night. Rifter took the pipe from his mouth, examining the dottle before dumping it out and then placing the pipe on the ground.

  “I don’t suppose we’ll truly know until it’s over,” he said with an air of calm that did not surprise her. Of course he hadn’t changed, and why should she have suspected it. This was what she’d fallen in love with, after all. All those times in the beginning when he’d, as Nix, asked her why she loved Rifter, he was only trying to get her to realize the truth.

  Wren looked away from him and off into the dark distance. Was the demon there, just beyond the edge of the shadows, waiting until she fell asleep before it would kill everyone she loved? Wren felt many different sorts of anxiety, but there was something deep in her stomach that felt very strange. She remembered the fire that had been put there, and she wondered if perhaps it was flaring up.

  “I can’t stop thinking that something bad is going to happen,” she whispered without truly knowing it.

  “There’s a war coming,” he said.

  “Yes, I know.”

  Rifter stopped his work, shifting his eye back to her. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Wren.”

  She looked at him a moment in silence. It wasn’t hard to believe him; he’d never let her down before. Her pause wasn’t for that, but she thought he might say something else. He did not, and so it was up to her once again.

  “I’m not only worried about myself, you know.”

  He gave a short nod of understanding. “I’m going to handle it.”

  He attempted to return to his work, but Wren didn’t allow it. She stretched her hand across to his wrist and clenched his arm tightly, stopping him from sharpening his dagger.

  “Rifter, I need to ask you something.”

  He didn’t respond, and he didn’t have to before she had gone on.

  “I need to know what’s going to happen when this is over,” she said carefully.

  He was distant – quiet as he stared at the blade. “I’m not sure I can even consider the future right now. I’ve cast it off for too long.”

  “I understand that,” she said, and saw surprise in his eye when he finally looked at her. “But I need to know at least one thing. I need to know what’s going to happen with Whisper.”

  He looked at her blankly, and Wren guessed he had not considered Whisper in a long time either. The bond that he and the wisp had once shared had been broken long ago.

  “I haven’t given Whisper any thought,” he admitted. “I banished her after what she did, and I considered myself finished with her.”

  “I’m not sure that banishment is good enough,” Wren said. Her words surprised even her when she heard the anger in her own voice.

  “I–” he started but wasn’t sure how to finish. “I don’t know what will happen when I see her again. There is a demon to be dealt with first.”

  Wren didn’t say anything to that, and he didn’t ask her for more of her thoughts. He turned back to his weapons.

  “You are still angry with me, aren’t you?” she blurted.

  All she could think about was how she had gone on and on about Rifter’s plan to fix the world, and how he had constantly told her that there was no plan at all.

  “It’s my own fault,” he admitted openly. “I should have taken precautions against all this, but I never expected it would happen.”

  At that, she saw him slipping away from her, growing distant again. He reached for his sword, aiming to soothe it with oil.

  “You should go lie down,” he told her in his very persuasive – and dismissive – way.

  He put his blindside to her, but Wren was not going to let him escape.

  “Rifter, I don’t sleep,” she said quietly. “I haven’t slept very well since leaving here.”

  He did not seem surprised. No doubt he had observed her. He had seen the way she’d simply drifted out of herself. She put on a brave smile.

  “I knew that I wouldn’t sleep until I was back here again – until I saw you – but even now it has been difficult.”

  He must have sensed that she wanted a response. “I never meant for it to happen this way.”

  “You don’t have to apologize anymore,” she said, looking down to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes. He kept quiet until she looked back up at him.

  “I’ve always known I belonged with you, even when you were just a story in my head. And even when I thought you were Nix, I wanted to be with you. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I can’t bear the thought of never having another chance to be here with you like this.”

  Wren was relieved to see him come back to her, peering into her eyes. She saw a slight desperation there, as if he needed her as well but had been too proud to ask.

  “I understand that feeling,” he said, putting his arm around her. He touched her face, burying his hand in her curls, and she leaned in against his touch. “But this won’t be the last moment we have together.”

  She accepted this assurance, and he smiled at her to smooth it on better. She didn’t seem to know he was lying.

  He kissed her then, softly and then fiercely, for every lie that he’d told and every assurance he needed. His mouth was warm and he tasted of smoke – but he broke away when one of her salty tears met his lips.

  Wren couldn’t apologize for her tears, but she was crying silently, her eyes glistening as more droplets threatened to fall.

  “Rifter,” she tried softly. “Could you hold me a while? Can we forget about the violence, just for a bit?”

  While she could not deny that it was important to prepare, there was no way to know how many hours or days any of them had left, and what was greater than to spend them in the arms of the one she loved?

  For her – for once – he gave in.

  Without a word, he stood up and took her in his arms, carrying her into the tent. She clung to him until he put her down, holding her close, keeping his silence. He kissed her forehead and she curled up into him. If there was truly any need for strict awareness of everything around them, Wren had forgotten it. They seemed to be the only two in existence, even to his thinking then. He held her carefully, protecting her from the bad i
mages and trying not to have his own.

  But she would not stop looking into his eyes.

  Wren touched his face, her fingers tracing his scar, slipping down his neck and finally along the line of the string that held the whistle. They gazed at each other silently, thinking of the past, connecting in all those ways that they had been unable. There were no secrets blocking them now, nothing keeping them apart.

  Once, years ago, they had been wrapped up together in a tent just like this one, sharing secrets in the dark, but the time had been wrong. Now, there was no time for anything else.

  They had both been meant for sleep, but it wasn’t long before they were tangled in each other’s arms, their mouths pressed, their bodies wanting more. Their yearnings had increased with every year that had aged them, and they were no longer uncertain of how to deal with their desires.

  She memorized the patterns drawn on his body, noted all his scars. He whispered to her in a forbidden language, murmuring confessions of love, and though she could not translate it, she understood the message. They were meant to be together now, just as the first day when he had called her to the beach in her dreams, and not even a lie could force them apart.

  Rapture and beauty – flesh against flesh.

  The expression of their love lasted for a long while beneath the dark sky, and within the aura of his whispered words and her insistent longing, they became one in a way that neither of them had known before.

  They laid there afterward, contented despite the pending horrors of the future, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

  Rifter stayed awake for hours, looking at her to keep this moment imprinted on his mind forever. He would not forget.

  Wren slept – finally restful after so long – but she did not dream.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  1

  “It is time!” said the Scourge, raising his hands emphatically before his followers as he finished his speech. His voice carried far and wide to the group on land as he spoke from the Bloody Mary’s deck, commanding their attention and loyalty – with the aid of a fairy’s spell.

  “We must rise against the Rifter and his Wolf Pack, and put a stop to this corruption once and for all! May there be no mercy on their souls!”

  The response was immediate. A cry went up from the horde of gathered pirates as each one raised his weapon in the air. There was a smile on the demon’s face, but no one could see it behind the bandages. No matter how this turned out, he would have his way.

  Let there be chaos.

  2

  And so it was thus. Within the course of the night, the island was fully at war, and there was not a soul who wasn’t involved. Even those who had declared themselves neutral were forced to defend their lives and families against those who would press them to join one side or the other. Tribals battled pirates, masters of Tikilin fended against throngs of fairy wisps, and nightmares fought against one another just for the sheer, agitated state of the world. The creatures of the sea rose up onto the land, and the sky above turned a familiar shade of amber, flaring with bursts of lightning.

  Rifter could feel the chaos in his bones, and he woke up with an aching sensation throughout his body. This was a pain he remembered well, as if by embracing who he really was, Nevermor had remembered him as its master, reconnecting with his body and soul. He could feel the way that the island was tortured. It was crying out for him, begging for deliverance. He could not sleep a moment longer, even if he’d wanted.

  He turned his head to see that Wren was lying next to him still, sound asleep, and he could not bear to wake her. It had been too long since she’d had any real rest, and he could not deny her that. Carefully, he managed to rise without disturbing her, pulling on his clothes as he stepped out into the damp haze of early morning.

  From his place at the old Tribal encampment, Rifter could hear the first sounds of war rising with the sun to reach them over the plains. Echoing sounds of cannons and destruction came from all directions, though he could see nothing for miles.

  I should have never let things spin this far out of control. But there was no sense looking into the past. There was only to fix his mistakes.

  Standing there, rigid and still, Rifter was surprised to feel a presence behind him, hearing a soft footstep against the dry ground. When he turned his head, he saw that it was Calico, staring at him.

  He didn’t want to know what she was thinking about him. Of all of them, her feelings about him may have been the worst. He had lied to her in many different ways, been purposefully cruel to keep her away, had let her believe that the one she’d once cared for was still alive.

  He knew he owed her apologizes, but he couldn’t quite muster them.

  “Sly’s been up all night,” she said, coming closer. “He’s been trying to locate the demon.”

  Rifter was grateful that she didn’t start off with accusations, and was content to keep with her subject.

  “Any luck?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, stepping up. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “Where is–” He didn’t get anything else out before Calico had raised her hand and struck him across the face. There was a harsh sting left on his skin, but he didn’t retaliate against her. He knew he deserved the blow. He probably deserved more than that.

  “I have something to say to you,” she started lowly, the heat of rage in her voice, “and consider yourself lucky that speaking is all I will do. I still believe in your power, and it is only with your help that Sly can restore this world. Because of that, I am glad that you have come back, and suppose I must forgive your lies. And maybe you didn’t kill Nix, but you are responsible for his death, and I will never forgive you for that.”

  At that, she walked away from him, and Rifter remained still and reflective, recalling the foggy memory of the last time he had seen his brother.

  ‘Do it, Rifter!’ Nix had shouted. ‘Do it! Kill me!’

  Rifter had nothing else to say – nothing to defend himself with. She was absolutely right. He was fully to blame – for all of it.

  3

  The morning for the Rifter and his Wolf Pack did not begin as it once had. They did not rise to a fairy’s urgent chatter. There was no smell of warm food to welcome them to the day, and no cheerful ‘good morning’s from one another. They rose on their own and began to assemble themselves in their weapons and Tikilin. Some did this without being fully awake, as if it were completely habitual in this world they lived in.

  Having that done, they all came from their respective places in the abandoned Tribal camp, gathering together. Even once they were all standing there – the Rifter, his love, and his band – there was very little that needed to be said. Whichever direction they moved off in, there was to be violence, blood, and death. Establishing that, it was only a matter of making sure that none of those things were their own.

  The smell of death was especially terrible on the hill, but they forced themselves to ignore it. Rifter was silent as he peered out over the land. The rest were standing patiently behind him, awaiting orders. Some waited eagerly, others a bit begrudgingly, but Rifter did not say a word until he was ready. When he did open his mouth, it was only one word – a designation.

  “Sly,” he said, as if he were a general choosing his best soldier for some great task. Sly understood what was required of him. At that, he spoke to them all.

  “The demon has begun this war to bring more chaos on the land – to confuse and distract us,” the animal boy said without a hitch. “But we are the ones it wants, and it knows we will not stand for this suffering and decimation. It wants us to come to it so that it might use us or else destroy us. It will wait.”

  “Can you see it?” Finn inquired, looking like a creature in all of his furry garb. “Do you know where it is?”

  The ears on Sly’s head tilted back in discontentment. “I spent a good part of the night trying to locate that demon, but the land is too afraid to reveal him to me. I saw all sorts of viole
nce and destruction, and in the midst of it, the demon – dressed as the Scourge – waited with a group of followers, ready to engage us in battle and take us down. But where, I do not see.”

  Sly had spent many hours in constant darkness, searching for these answers. Where was that evil? It was so strong that he should have been able to find it.

  He spread his fingers now, letting the wind pass through them – and then a sudden pain brought his hand to his head. An image accompanied that stab, but it was only a flash, yet seemed so familiar to him that he could have sworn he’d seen it before.

  Wren… He saw her face, but not as she was standing near him now. In the split second he had recognized her, he’d noticed that she hadn’t looked quite right. She normally appeared so sweet and delicate, but in his vision, her face had been distorted by a hideous snarl. Yes, he’d seen that expression on her face before, but only inside his head. He’d seen it when he’d discovered that the demon’s fire was within her – when he’d first begun to think that she might be dangerous, not just to him, but to all of them. Sly knew that Calico had seen it too.

  What does it mean? Before he’d had time to contemplate it further, the pain came again.

  This discomfort was similar to what he’d felt when he’d first begun to have visions, but the pain had not come in years. It came on now with the war that was raging inside his head.

  He saw great masses struggling in battle, cutting each other and taking one another’s lives. He saw Wren again, and she was smiling just as manically. Sly saw blood on his own hands. He saw Mach aiming his gun at something with an expression of uncertainty and guilt. There was an enormous monster like he had never seen, weaving its long, serpent-like body through the sky. Rifter was there, covered in blood, swooping up through the air to meet it. Finn was standing with a look of disbelief on his face, shaking his head in protest. And at the very end of that train, he saw Wren’s face again. She smiled evilly at him, and then he saw her differently – lying on the ground, unmoving. Sly hadn’t decided what it all meant before the flashes were gone and he was left with a dull pain.