by Lenore, Lani
The Pack had been moving toward Wren’s position as if they might have been able to save her, but they had not gotten there in time. Now, they were staring at her crumpled form with as much disbelief and anger as he was.
Rifter turned his rage-filled eye to the demon serpent’s blazing orb.
“You killed her!” he yelled, even though his lungs ached and struggled for the breaths he took. “You killed her, you bast–!”
That was as far as he got. The demon turned up its massive head and swallowed him down.
3
At the moment that Wren hit the ground, Sly had been battling a distance away, but he’d felt a sudden, harsh pain in his chest as if someone had kicked him in the heart.
Even though he faltered in battle, it was by luck that he ducked down to grasp his chest, narrowly avoiding having his face ripped off by the nails of the undead. There was a dull ache inside him as he rose up, but he remained aware of the situation well enough to accurately crack the kneecaps of his enemies. They fell, and he wandered away, hoping no others would come upon him.
Sly had not been able to see what the others had seen, and he’d been too distant to share in their concern, but he knew that something had happened. He knew that it had happened to Wren. He’d seen her face in his head before they’d even come to this spot.
Something was supposed to happen to Wren. Something had happened to her.
The silent feet of the animal boy moved him through the jungle. He avoided noises and ignored the smell of blood invading his sensitive nose. All around him, he could hear his brothers battling like wild savages, and he felt something above him that was so strong and heavy that he feared it might crush him at any moment. But those things were not what he was searching for.
There. Just there!
He couldn’t see her lying on the ground, but he knew. He knew how her spine was twisted, and how her bones were shattered. He knew that her eyes were open, unintentionally accusing anyone who looked into them. But there was no doubt that it was her. It was certainly Wren, and she was lifeless.
Sly went to his knees beside her, sliding his arm behind her shoulders to lift her up a bit. Her head lolled back. She was like a broken doll.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he murmured to himself. He smoothed golden curls back from her face, feeling that his hands were shaking.
Why hadn’t he seen that this would happen? At least he could have been prepared for it then – could have tried to stop it in some way. He had done wrong by her. He’d not been a good friend, or protector, or even worthy family. Having such great powers, he had not managed to save her innocent life.
There was pain behind his ruined eyes as tears tried to rise from ducts that no longer functioned. Nevertheless, he began to feel warm liquid trailing slowly down his face. The thickness and slow movement made him understand that these were not salty tears, but streams of blood.
Sly recalled something then. When he and his brothers had been locked inside the dark cave, fearing for their lives, they’d spoken of Wren and how they all felt strongly for her. They’d all had something different to say in explanation of that love and devotion, but Sly’s own words seemed especially significant to him now.
As if she died, I would die, too.
Was there a reason he had felt that way, saying those words? Almost as if he was destined to do that very thing? This would not have been the first time he’d had a premonition without knowing it. Even though he was holding the dead girl in his arms, he did not lose his ability to give thought to this circumstance.
He thought of Wren’s frozen face – then about the gift that the land had given him. Beneath him now, the tiniest tips of grass were beginning to peek out of the ground, simply because he was sitting there in that spot. He had been given the ability to heal, and it was not only the land. He could heal minor wounds – cuts, bruises, broken bones – but Sly had never attempted what he was about to. Simply thinking that he could seemed blasphemous.
To attempt to bring back life once it was completely gone – it would certainly not be without sacrifice.
Careful hands bent the girl’s limbs back into place. Continuing to hold her up with one arm, he put his other hand to her face. Then, he pressed his forehead against hers.
Sly began to concentrate.
He thought of how he healed the land – of how he could make things grow at will. He thought of the effort he’d put into specifically growing tiger lilies all around the Tribal camp as a tribute to Calico. He thought of how he healed the scrapes of small children so effortlessly, and how he eased the pain of dying elders. That knowledge had to help him now, for he was attempting the unthinkable.
The war raged on through the trees, and Sly felt his strength leave him. Healing always fed off his own life, but he’d never let it go too far. This time, however, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. By all rights, he should have been long dead. He’d been immortal in Nevermor for longer than he knew. He’d gone to the sun, but fallen back to the earth. Somehow, he’d lived, but he would have died if it had not been for the native people and their rituals. The sun had given him the ability to see, but they were responsible for binding him to the land.
It is my destiny to do this, he realized. It has been my fate all along.
Sly did not hear anyone calling his name – was not aware of footsteps moving toward him across the ground. He heard himself groan, but the ringing in his ears made his own voice seem distant. It was becoming hard to think, and still Wren’s body did not respond to his efforts. It was true that her flesh had sealed itself, the bones having popped back into place and grown together again, but he could not feel her breath on his face or her pulse beneath his hand. Perhaps it truly was hopeless. He winced, not wanting to believe that. Surely her soul had not escaped yet. He could bring it back!
He struggled with all his might, pouring himself into her shell. Hands settled on his shoulders, trying to pull him back, but he would not let Wren go; not until he’d made it happen! The grip on his shoulders tightened. Someone ordered him to release her, and he obeyed, but not because he had heeded to their wish.
Sly’s energy left him and his body slumped back on the ground – just as Wren opened her mouth and took in her first, renewed breath.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
1
Calico had not been surprised to find how easily flame-licked pirate flesh sliced beneath the edges of her hatchets. She’d sawed through cooked beasts before, and this was no different. She did not care that these creatures had been human once. They had done their fair share to her as mere men. She hacked through their weakened skin efficiently.
Her arms and back bore long scratches from the creatures’ claws, but she was not worried about scars. It would not take Sly much energy to heal these wounds of hers. Calico had not forgotten the promise she’d made about protecting him. She’d kept a close watch on him during the battle, trying hard to keep herself near him even as she helped the others. This had been done well, and Sly had not eluded her but–
Cutting down a few pirates had given her room, she took this opportunity to peer around. The others were warring fiercely a short distance away, but Sly was nowhere to be found.
Instinctually, she searched over the ground for his body. All she saw was bit after bit of fallen undead. She moved over them agilely.
“Sly!” she called, not caring if her voice brought new wounds to her.
Perhaps he had gone to help the others? Their fighting did seem to have intensified. Calico rushed toward them, leaping over downed, struggling beings. Her eyes fell on Finn, seeing him chop off every hand that tried to slice him. Toss was there as well, halving the size of the scorched monsters by bringing his hammer down onto their heads. Goggles were resting over Mach’s eyes, and he used them to put his bullets squarely into the brains of his enemies – shooting away from his brothers, always. All of this went on, but she did not see Sly.
Wren…
T
he thought of the other girl made Calico feel instantly uneasy. But it all seemed to fit now. Rifter had asked Toss to stay with Wren, but Toss was here. Sly had probably known this and taken it upon himself to go to the girl, despite concerns for his own safety. He constantly sacrificed for others, and he would especially do so for Wren. While that first characteristic made Calico love him, the latter made her feel sick. Did he have no sense? He should not have been putting himself near anything that was as unstable as what was inside Wren! If this world lost Sly, it lost hope.
She moved closer to the others, almost ready to yell to them above the noise and ask them about Sly, but she stopped. A stretch away through the insidious overgrowth, she could see a gradual movement near the ground.
Sly? What was he doing? Could he have been hurt? She started toward him, and then a glimpse of blond curls made her move faster. That girl was with him! She might have been killing him and Calico had not even known he was gone! It was only another moment’s sprint before she came upon them, and when her eyes focused on the scene, she found herself unable to react.
Sly was grasping Wren tightly, holding her head to his. In his arms, he rocked her gently, groaning as if he was in pain. Calico saw the blood on his face; she saw how his hands shook. Wren was unmoving, her eyes open wide. Was she dead? If so, how could Sly hope to– Finally, Calico was aware of what was happening, and her feet took action, throwing her forward.
“Get off her!” she demanded, grasping him desperately.
Sly did not even seem to know she was there, putting his full concentration on the dead girl. Calico tried to pry his hands from Wren, but the claws would not unclench.
“Stop!” she cried, feeling tears of desperation. “Sly, stop!”
She was surprised when he let go. Wren hit the ground, rolling over onto her side and coughing as though there was no air in her lungs. Calico looked down at the boy that had fallen back into her arms. His head was lying back, and his arms rested on the ground beside him limply. He… She couldn’t feel him breathing.
“Sly?” The whisper hardly came out. It received no response.
She shook him with a bit of effort, then lowered him to the ground and slapped his face lightly. He did not stir, and Calico’s breath began to quicken. Tears were certainly flowing now, trailing down her cheeks as she wiped the blood from Sly’s face.
This hasn’t happened. How could he do this to himself?
Her sorrow turned quickly into anger. Stupid, stupid boy! How could he do this? Calico didn’t care how sentimentally he felt toward Wren! She was nothing! Nothing!
“This is your fault,” she accused, her tear-blurred eyes settling on Wren. “This is your fault!”
The huntress moved too fast for anyone to stop her, throwing her fist forcefully into the pale girl’s face. Wren was still too weak to comprehend the blows. The fist beat down on her relentlessly, accompanied by screams of fury that were incomprehensible, even to Calico herself. It was only because of strong arms wrapping around her that she was able to stop.
Calico was hoisted into the air by Toss, and though she struggled and sobbed wildly, she could not break free of his large arms. She thrashed until she was tired, but this still did not quell her rage or her sorrow.
Sly, this is not what you promised me!
None of it was right and none of it was fair. Calico had already lost one boy that she’d loved, and now she would lose the other? Past the many thoughts in her mind, she knew one thing that was true.
This was Wren’s fault. All of it was because of her.
2
“Are you alright, Wren?”
Her eyes, terribly dry, turned to see Mach beside her. He looked sad somehow, but also very surprised to see her. He touched the back of her head and her arm as if he could hardly fathom that she was a physical being.
“I’m fine,” she said, her words coming out in a dry, scratchy voice. “What happened?”
“You–?” Mach started, but stopped again. Wren’s eyes drifted up to Calico, who had calmed down to simply hang from Toss’ grip, sobbing. Wren looked down then, catching sight of Sly. A gasp escaped her, a blood-covered hand rising to her mouth. She looked at her fingers in confusion, but disregarded them to move toward Sly.
“Stay away from him!” Calico screamed, and Wren consented to the girl’s wishes, though it did not fail to take her by surprise.
She watched quietly as Finn bent down to examine Sly’s body. Her face and arms hurt from Calico’s attack, but she was too busy trying to recall what had happened to give it much mind. She remembered catching Whisper, aiming to use the whistle, but the fairy wisp had slipped from her fingers.
I was with Rifter. There was pain. Then I was falling.
Her eyes went to the sky, and they rounded to see a large black serpent zooming through the air. Was it heading down toward them? Where was Rifter?
“Rifter?”
“Wren…” Mach’s voice had gotten through to her once again, but she could not see what he saw. Her face had swelled from Calico’s punches, but it was beginning to fade as if she’d not been hurt at all. She was, however, aware of something soft and cool beneath her hand. Looking to the ground, she saw that there was a patch of grass growing between her fingers. It surprised her so greatly that she jerked her hand away from it, but she could not remove her eyes. How had she done this? Sly was the only one who could–
She looked once again at his limp body, and her memory came back to her. She had been falling, and she hadn’t been delivered. She’d fallen until she’d hit the ground. She’d died. Sly had attempted to heal her, and he’d pressed his power to the extent that he’d lost his own life. In the process, he had passed his healing gift on to her.
Wren could hardly think. Her mind was a tangle of impossibilities and fears and troubles. It was not long before a voice broke through her mind, and while it did not abolish her many thoughts, it crossed over them.
“Hey, mates…” Finn’s voice rose up above the rest, somehow even breaking Calico’s sobs. “I don’t think he’s dead.”
3
Within the demon, Rifter was wedged tightly in the fleshy pipe he’d been swallowed down into. It was dark and hot, thick and wet. He couldn’t move – could hardly breathe. He felt the twisting of the demon’s body, struggling to force him down into the pit of fiery acid in its belly, but Rifter could not be dislodged. It was horrible, suffocating, and claustrophobic, but he was not going to allow himself to rot within a demon’s stomach. Rifter believed it was possible for him to die – despite his earlier claim of immortality.
Not like this!
He kept his eyes closed as his hair was plastered down by the demon’s inner fluids. All his weapons had been lost to him before this had happened. On top of that, his body had been badly injured by the demon’s teeth, but those wounds had begun to heal. It would be days before the pain vanished completely, but for now it was enough. He had to get out. He had to have revenge!
Wren… He could not stop thinking of her. Though he was contemplating a plan, his thoughts kept returning to the image of her mangled body on the ground. Just after he’d thought he had saved her, she had died right in front of him. This entire time, he’d only cared about protecting her, and he’d not done it.
Like so many other times when he’d watched his family die, his mind was overwhelmed by pain, but he could do very little inside here. The smell alone was making him wish he’d stop breathing, but he could not give up. There was one more thing he had to accomplish before death – at least one more – and he could only think of one way to make it happen.
Rifter had wondered if the demon was aware of what it had done to him back when they’d first met. In order for the demon to get inside Rifter’s body, it had lit a fire for itself in his core. He’d later let the demon out into Nix’s body, but there had been something left inside him in the demon’s wake, and that fire burned still.
Rifter had not lived in that ever-burning forest because he�
��d liked the smoke, or even because it had once been home. He’d gone there in order to counter what the creature had left behind within him – its fire. He’d been hunting the burning bear to see how it had lived with the fire scorching its skin. It had been years, and Rifter had never tried to burn himself for fear that the blaze would consume him completely. But now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Wren was dead, and he had nothing to live for other than his revenge. He needed to know it would work, and there was no better time than now.
Gathering air down deep within him, he gave all his energy to one effort – his attempt to combust.
Fire from within rolled past his lips, burning him like acidic bile. He did not watch it, but he knew that it was blazing over his skin and scorching the insides of the demon. He strained himself, finally feeling the fire as it burst out of his fingertips and toes. Gradually, the red flames swallowed him completely.
Was he burning? Was his skin cooking to a thick, withered mask like the pirates below? He couldn’t tell, only knowing that the heat was intense. Tongues of fire licked him, but he was hardly concerned about himself. Rifter pictured Wren’s face – his last angelic vision of her – and dug his feet harshly into the demon, aiming to push through.
4
If Rifter was to be considered a satisfying meal, then the demon felt it might as well go back to the pit and rot there. Granted, it had seemed like a good idea to eat him – an agreeable end – but there was something very disagreeable about it now. The angry piece of food had gotten himself lodged inside the demon’s body before he’d passed into the stomach, and now the nightmare demon was suffering from an uncomfortable lump in its throat.
The demon circled around in the air, twisting its long, sleek body of black scale. Being free was a nice sensation, but it had to admit that it enjoyed being a human more. It had abolished all the roles that it cared about in this land, but it would find another that it enjoyed with time. Still, this decimated island in the sky would remain as the nightmare demon’s property.
