by Lani Lenore
“Don’t say it like that,” Henry said, his brow wrinkling in defense. “It would probably be good for him.”
“It’s ghastly!”
“It’s inevitable!” Henry shouted. Here was the boy she remembered. “The rest of us can’t watch him all the time! And what about you? How can you protect him? Open your eyes! This world is dangerous, especially now! We have chosen to be here so we have to deal with that!”
Wren was startled, but his words managed to pierce her veil of defense. The whole thing came home to her in that moment. This was real. They were at war. Maybe she had been going through all of this with her eyes closed – blinded by her foolish hope or by love. She did need to open them and look.
I don’t want to look. But she had to. She couldn’t ignore the truth about this place. It was different from the world she had been born in, and no matter how terrible her life had been back there, she didn’t have to fear that monsters were going to devour her, or that some terrible man was going to descend upon them and kill all the ones she loved. She just hadn’t been expecting a war.
There is war everywhere, Wren.
She sighed. Was there really no alternative solution? Were they condemned to fight and die young, or else live in a state of eternal youth forever? Wren wasn’t sure that she wanted to be a child any longer. If she couldn’t get more feeling from Rifter aside from what he was already offering her, then was any of it worth the trouble?
Henry was watching her. It was her turn to make the next statement in the argument, but she had already given up.
“I’ll think about it,” Wren said finally, and it was Henry’s turn to be startled. He had been preparing to argue with her more, but she had given in too soon.
“I have to take the next watch,” he told her. “We can talk about it some more later.”
Wren didn’t even notice that he had walked away. She was deep in thought. Was allowing Max to be taught skills of violence the same thing as giving up on him? She had brought him here to preserve his childhood, not have it ruined by war and darkness.
She saw now that the thing she had come here to avoid was happening before her eyes. She was losing them just the same. This had always been her personal war. Perhaps it was time to lay down her arms.
3
In the council room, the Pack was discussing their next move, as they had been for days. Some of them wanted to try and advance while others among them thought they should wait for the Scourge to make another move before they set out. They agreed that their enemy was weak and wounded, but there was a problem with rushing directly after him. They couldn’t find him. Rifter had searched all across the island, but had seen no sign of the Desdemona.
“You’d think his ship wouldn’t be so hard to spot,” Finn said.
“He’s hiding somewhere,” Nix pointed out. “That’s nothing new.”
“But Rifter has checked all the old places,” Toss insisted.
“You know how the island changes. Maybe he found a new place,” Sly suggested.
Rifter heard the others talking, but he didn’t give a lot of attention to what they were going on about. He already had his mind set on what he was going to do.
I’m going to go out there again and I’m going to find him. Whatever it takes, I’m going to get him. Then I’m going to kill him. I have to.
He’d have already done it if he’d known where the man was. He’d been searching the sea on every day since they’d returned home, but he had seen no trace of the Desdemona. The Pack wanted Rifter to believe that the man had retreated from the island again, but if that was so, he wouldn’t have still felt that hand of darkness folding fingers around his heart.
He’s still out there, plotting against me. But he’s not laughing. Not this time.
Rifter smiled as he remembered the thrill of cutting off the man’s arm. He wanted to cut him again. He thirsted for it.
I can’t sit here.
Rifter stood up abruptly and the others stopped what they were doing, giving him their attention.
“I’m going back out there,” he announced.
“Right now, Rifter?” Toss asked after him, but he had already turned.
“I’m not going to rest until he’s dead.”
“What if that doesn’t solve it?” Sly blurted. Rifter stopped just at the door and turned slowly back to him. For some reason, that had caught him by the ears.
“What?”
“What if killing him makes something worse happen?” Sly asked, not fearing his leader’s glare. “Have you considered it? What if it sends everything spiraling out of control?”
Rifter rolled his eyes. He’d heard some of this before.
“You’re back on that again?” he asked angrily, not wanting to hear anything that might deter him from what he wanted.
“I know I don’t have any evidence,” Sly admitted, “but you have to consider that there is some sort of balance that might be impossible to disrupt! Even if you kill him, maybe that won’t—”
“Sly,” Rifter interrupted, “you’ve been here a long time, but I’ve still been here longer than you. I think I know what’s best.”
None of them said anything to that, and that was how he left them. He went out through the curtain and into the den, glancing toward the alcove in the wall where Whisper had slept, and he had almost called for her to come with him before he realized that she wasn’t there.
That’s right. I sent her away. How long has it been?
He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to think. When the Scourge was around, his memory was worse. All his thoughts were muddled, consumed as he was by his need for revenge.
When he looked up, he saw that Wren was standing there, gazing at him.
He hadn’t been giving much attention to her lately, and they had barely spoken since the conversation they’d had in the woods. She wanted to say things to him that he didn’t want to hear; he could see that on her face now. Maybe it would have been nice if he could stop to hold her for a while. He might lose an ounce of his malice if he buried his face in her soft hair. He just didn’t have time to waste doing that.
They both stood there, looking at each other until she broke the silence.
“You’re going out?” she asked.
“I’m going to look for him again,” he said, as if he had to explain himself to her.
She didn’t say anything else, just looked at him with those blue eyes that had been so accusing lately. He couldn’t look at her anymore – not now. He aimed to go, but her voice stopped him.
“Rifter…”
He turned back to humor her, but she must have seen the annoyance on his face. She seemed shocked at his expression, and he wondered if he should have apologized – given her assurances and promises – but he didn’t.
“Don’t do anything reckless.”
She’d meant it to show that she cared about him, but he didn’t take it that way. He took it as more nagging, and he scoffed as he walked away from her. Didn’t she understand how important this was?
As soon as he had this finished, things could go back to the way they had been before. Didn’t any of them see that?
He went out and took to the air, traveling over the land and sea. He went for miles across the open water, to no result. He let the clouds hide him as he rechecked every cove and pirate camp for the ship, but he found no trace.
He searched for hours – much like the hours he had searched before – but remained with nothing but the stirring dark of his enemy’s presence churning inside him.
4
One blue eye opened in the blackness, and the Scourge awoke with a start. Sweat trailed down the side of his face, into the stubble along his jaw as he tried to catch his breath – as the shock of what he had seen left him cold and shaking. He struggled to remember where he was, for the things he had seen through that door had distorted his mind.
Why now? Why only now have I been allowed to see the truth?
It was th
e girl. She was the only thing that made this time different. It was unusual how her image had brought it all home to him, but he would hold onto what he had seen. It was right. He was ready to embrace it.
Despite what he knew it meant, it didn’t change his intentions. His enemy still had to die, but now he had an even greater advantage toward making that happen.
Sitting there in the chair made of bones from so many men he’d killed, the Scourge looked down at his mangled arm and began to laugh. He laughed until he was hoarse – until it had turned to a cough and he was choking on his own saliva. The way his enemy had cut him suddenly seemed to mean so little.
Why didn’t I see it before? How could I not have known?
There was a careful knock on his chamber door, breaking into his thoughts and echoing loudly inside his head. He wasn’t pleased for the interruption, but he trusted that it was important.
“Come in if you have a good reason. Be warned if you don’t,” he said, his voice rough.
The door opened slowly. The one who entered was a man named Silas – a weathered seadog if ever there was one. Scourge had put him in charge of the preparations while he healed. Silas was a large man, commanding, yet even he trembled in the dark man’s presence.
“It’s ready, Scourge,” he said.
“Have you done just as I told you?” he asked.
“Yes,” Silas answered, feeling a chill run through him. “It’s ready. The men are ready too. But are ye sure that you are? Ye’ve only just been wounded, after all.”
Silas was nervous, trying to hide it behind words of concern, but the Scourge saw through that. He looked down at his own hands on the arms of his chair, first his right and then his left. From where he sat, the limb that had been previously rendered looked perfectly normal beneath the sleeve and glove that hid it, but…
“I can’t wait any longer,” the Scourge growled in disgust, his blue eye cold as winter. “We do it now.”
“But sir, we don’t even know where he is.”
The Scourge stood up, his arm limp at his side. “That’s not going to stop me anymore. I will burn every inch of this island if it means finding him. Tell the men we do it now. We flush him out.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
1
The twins hated watch duty. They rarely took it seriously. Not much ever happened and they considered it a waste of their time. When they were confident that Rifter wouldn’t be looking, it was common that they would get up to mischief and completely neglect their effort.
Rifter had been gone for a while searching for the Scourge, and since the boys knew he wouldn’t give much thought to what they were doing, Mech left his perch and joined Mach in his tree. He produced a bottle of Firefly, a concoction of their own making, and they sat there together, drinking and looking at the sky through the branches of the trees.
“Do you know what I’m thinking of?” Mech asked suddenly, but he didn’t expect an answer, for of course his brother knew – or if he didn’t, he would pretend.
“That’s disgusting,” Mach jeered, reading his brother’s mind perfectly. It could have only been one of two things. “I don’t want to think about that with you involved.”
“Why not?” Mech asked with a laugh. “It’d be like looking into a glorious mirror!”
Mech laughed and Mach shoved him so hard he nearly went out of the tree.
“You know,” Mech said mischievously. “Finn says pirate wenches love young boys.”
“As if he knows that for certain,” Mach said sarcastically. “I’ll bet he’s never been close to one.”
Mech shrugged. “I was thinking more about the mermaids anyway. Oh, how I wish I could get my hands on one o’ them.”
“You’re pathetic,” Mach joked with a laugh.
“You’re pathetic,” Mech returned, nudging his brother so that the bottle missed his mouth and spilled some of the liquid down his front.
“We should go to the lagoon,” Mech went on. “Maybe Rifter’s not the only one who can get close enough to taste.”
“Nah, it’s too far,” Mach said, shooting down the idea. “The others will notice we went.”
“Sometimes you have to take risks,” Mech encouraged him. “Greater risks for greater rewards.”
“I don’t know…” Mach looked down at the bottle and Mech could tell that his brother was fishing for some kind of excuse.
“Don’t be a whiny bitch,” he scolded, jerking the bottle out of his hands.
“I’m not a bitch.”
“You are so a bitch.”
Mach didn’t feel like responding anymore. He swiped the bottle away and took a long swig before passing it back to his twin.
They sat in the quiet of the night. Despite all the big talk, neither of them moved to leave or do anything else. They were a unit, and they always moved as one.
“Do you think Rifter remembers anything?” Mach asked. “You know, about the last time.”
Mech shrugged. “Who knows what he can remember. He can barely remember that we aren’t the same person.”
“That’s different. He just can’t be bothered to try,” Mach said dismissively. “You know what I’m talking about though. Or have you forgotten too?”
That last statement was a jab. Neither of them had forgotten it, just as the rest of their brothers hadn’t.
“I’m not that far gone yet,” Mech assured him, “but it’s not like we can do anything. He won’t listen. It’s just like the last time, and the time before that.”
“I guess.”
“We just have to go with it. It’s all we can do. There isn’t –”
In the midst of their banter, there was a loud bang, like cannon fire ripping across the sky. Both of them did forget then – they forgot their conversation and snapped to attention, looking off through the trees. The only thing they could think of was the Desdemona and the cannons on her deck, but it had been too close – much closer than if the dark vessel was at the nearest beach, but yet it couldn’t have been closer than that.
“What was that?” Mach asked. His voice held a tremor of fear, but he was trying to hide it.
They both had the same thought: The Scourge – but there was no way he could have come for them in the woods, at least not with the ship’s cannons.
“Maybe it was nothing,” Mech told him, but he sounded unsure.
They sat for a few moments as the silence settled back in – then they heard another shot that made them both jump, and directly afterward, it happened again. There was a streak of orange light across the heavens, like a fallen star or a meteorite, and another followed after it. The boys watched in amazement – until the orbs crashed into the forest, igniting the trees.
It was a chain reaction. The trees in the distance erupted in flame.
“Oh shit!” Mech yelled, and they both began to scramble down from the tree, as even more of the fireballs crashed down. They were out of the way, but they knew they wouldn’t remain safe if they stayed in the woods. This was no act of nature. This was an attack.
They rushed back toward the tunnels as fire consumed the forest, spreading the light and heat as the trees passed the flames from one to another.
“Fire!” the twins yelled in unison, but for once gave no thought to the way their voices blended. “Fire!”
2
Wren couldn’t sleep. She had tossed and turned for a long time, but rest would not come. She was too troubled to welcome ease.
Everything was going wrong. All wrong.
Max was sleeping there beside her, seeming undisturbed by her restlessness, but even watching how peacefully he slept could not soothe her. Pretty soon he was going to look like a smaller version of Henry with long, unruly hair, dressed like an animal. She hated the thought of that as much as she’d hated the thought of him in a workhouse.
Though the boy himself was faultless, she felt distant from him and could no longer look at him. Wren stared up at the ceiling, toward the waves of color across the ro
ck.
She took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself – and a strange smell drew her attention. She sniffed the air, trying to place it, but it didn’t take her long. It was distinct.
Smoke.
Was it from the hearth in the den? Did one of the boys have a fire going in their own space? She got up to see who was awake. Since she couldn’t sleep, she might as well have someone to talk to, but she was sure that they couldn’t solve her problems. Even if all she got was a distraction, that would be good enough.
When she had come out of her room, she didn’t notice any light coming from beyond the other doorways. Going to the den also didn’t solve the mystery. The hearth there was cold and no one was about. The smoke smell was still prevalent. Surely it wasn’t just her imagination that the air was a bit hazy?
She turned back, wondering if she should rouse the others, but there was already someone standing in the way. Nix was there, looking at her through a layer of sleep. He was shirtless, staring at her as if she was a demon in their midst.
“Are you trying to light a fire?” he asked huskily, and she realized that he must have smelled the smoke as well.
She was about to answer him when a shout was heard from deeper in the tunnels, and though it was imperceptible at first, the bellowed words eventually became clear.
“Fire!”
“Wake up! The forest is on fire!”
The twins eventually came barreling into the den, panting, their voices hoarse from yelling. They had done their job, however, and the rest of the Pack had been pulled rudely from their beds, rushing out in varying states of undress that Wren tried to overlook.
“What happened?” Finn asked, looking baffled.
“The forest is burning!” Mach told him, trying to be clear. “We have to get out!”
“What the hell did you do?” Nix accused.
“Nothing! Fire came out of the sky! It was like an explosion!”
Nix shook his head, trying to make sense of it.
“Which direction is clear?” he asked them. They hesitated, looked at each other, and then spoke at once.
