Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (16 page)

“Cover
your ears!” Nix instructed, and Wren barely had time to do so before Nix raised
his gun and fired.

The
bullets hit against the bear’s fiery flesh and she heard it roar in protest. 
She remembered then that Nix had used the fairy ash to coat his bullets.  They
were able to strike the impossible creature because they were blessed. 
Eventually, the bear’s fiery bulk fled into the trees until they could no
longer see the light of the flames.  Still quite rattled, Wren gathered herself
enough to speak.

“That
was-!  A nightmare?”

She
stopped when she looked up at Nix’s face.  It was his sharp eye that silenced
her.

“That,”
he started, not nearly as breathless as she was, “was
nothing
.”

3

It
was uncharacteristic of the land to not know the truth about itself, but the
corruption had decayed its perception and understanding over time.  The island
had been feeling something strange for a while, but it could no longer
comprehend it.  The plants, the rocks, the terrain, and every inhabitant felt a
strange ache within – a feeling of dark foreboding.  The trees felt it at the
tips of their branches and deep within their roots, while the people felt it as
dread in their hearts.  They all knew some change had happened, but they did
not understand.

Some
distance away, the boy without eyes opened his mouth, putting to words what all
others felt but were unable to interpret.

“She
has returned – the missing one.  Soon he will reveal his presence.”  The boy
nodded solemnly to himself.  “After such a wait,
it begins
.”

Prophecy

Listen closely, one will come

a wicked heart, a flaming tongue

a hidden demon, beautiful – contrite

to mask the world in eternal night.

Do not forget the nightmare’s curse:

old friends forgotten; old truths
unearthed.

1

Nix
had cleverly thrown down his bag before guiding Wren into the pond, keeping
most of his equipment dry.  Once the fiery bear was out of sight, the travelers
moved back up onto the bank, ready to set off again.

Wren
walked on uncomfortably, her shoes making wet, squishing sounds with every
step.  She knew she’d had no choice, but she regretted getting wet.  Her pale
gown was clinging to her legs, hindering her pace.  Nix, on the other hand, wore
the coat of fur as if it were not weighed down with water.  Because of this,
she pretended not to notice her own discomfort as she walked behind him.

The
pair had passed out of the charred, flaming trees and finally into a stretch of
woods that seemed somewhat alive.  The air was fresher, but it was quite humid
and heavy.  Still, the blooming of small flowers at the bases of trees lifted
Wren’s heart.  Perhaps not all was dead here.

Wren
directed her eyes ahead, listening to the sound of their footfalls and remembering
the old days when they had once traveled through the forest as a group,
laughing and saying whatever they pleased.  Much of what had come from their
mouths had been crude – though they’d often made her laugh even when she’d not
meant to.

Not
all of it was terrible.

She
looked over at Nix now, walking on his blind side and wondering if she ever
remembered seeing him smile in those days.

“May
I ask about your eye?” she ventured.

“I
got in a fight.  I lost.”

That
was all he would say on the subject, and she accepted that as having
overstepped her bounds.

She
turned her attention to the trees, wondering how far they stretched across the
island.  Rifter had once guided her, teaching her the ways of the world.  He’d
held her hand, but it was empty now.

“You
know,” she started, whether or not Nix was listening, “when I was away, it was
always my fear that I would forget this place.  I thought my memory of it would
fade, like so often happened to Rifter and the rest of you.  I tried to hold
onto it and look forward to what the world would be like when I came back.  Now
that I’ve seen it, the old days are all I can think about.  I feel that I could
never have forgotten them in the first place.  All my worries were for
nothing.”

Nix
didn’t say anything to that, and she didn’t much expect him to.  More than
anything, she was saying it for her own benefit.

“But
it wasn’t just Rifter that I missed.  It was all of you.  You all took me to
the tundra that day Rifter was gone, and I saw the names of the fallen that you’d
etched in stone.  We played in the snow and talked by the fire.  Aside from
meeting the Ren, that was a good day.  Do you remember that?”

He
hesitated, and she looked to his face, hoping that he would give her something
back – anything.

“No,”
he said finally, and she could not tell if he was lying or simply didn’t want
to reminisce.

He
doesn’t want to talk to me.  I’m still a burden to him
.  But the
talking made her feel better.  She did not stop.

“Speaking
of old memories, did Whisper let Rifter have his back?”

This
seemed to spark his interest.

“We
talked about it,” Nix answered.  “We decided it would be best if he started
fresh.  The fewer memories of the Scourge he had, the better.  For once, he
listened.”

They
traveled on, listening to the cries of birds overhead as the only buffer
between them, but it didn’t go on long before he chose to revive the
conversation, surprising her.

“So
why didn’t Rifter stay with you?” he asked once the wind had grown too loud in
her ears.  “Why wasn’t he willing to face us himself?”

“He
said that if you all saw me, you would trust him again,” she answered, then
realized that Nix might be able to help her with the mystery behind that.  “Why
would he say that?”

“That’s
in the past, Wren.  You know that.  Rifter wouldn’t approve of talking about
those things.”

He
was refusing her – but that didn’t seem to stop his own questions. 

“What’s
Rifter doing now?” he wanted to know.

“He
didn’t tell me,” she confessed.  “I assume it must have something to do with
his plan to deliver this place.”

Nix
hummed thoughtfully, but Wren didn’t like the sound of it.

“Help
me understand why you are so hesitant to believe in him,” she said.  “What
happened to make you this way?”

Nix
was silent.  She found herself staring up toward his dead eye, waiting for an
answer.

“It’s
just been a long time, is all,” he said finally, moving forward again. 

Wren
was ready to give up for now.  It was obvious that he wanted her to.  She was
willing to turn her thoughts to another matter.

“How
far do you think we’ll be able to go today before it’s too dark?” 
Or too
dangerous.

The
sky had been gray ever since she had gotten into Nevermor, but she could see
now that it was becoming darker as the hours slipped on.

“Thinking
of stopping already?” Nix asked, slowing his pace so that she might catch up.

Admittedly,
the encounter with the nightmare creature had made her weary.  Her companion,
however, did not seem at all taxed.  It was just another day to him.

“It’s
just that I’m not so certain that I can run from pirates if there happen to be
any around the bay.”

Nix
was silent a moment, considering.  “We’re close – if indeed the bay settlement
is still there.  Let’s just have a look.”

She
was stunned at the dullness of his voice, but dismissed her thoughts against
him.  Perhaps Bleed Neck Bay was completely abandoned.  Perhaps, even, there
was some structure where they could make a temporary camp.  Trying to put away
her doubt, Wren followed Nix onward, staying close.  After treading on for
several minutes, Wren began to hear the sound of waves lapping against a bank.

“Look,”
Nix instructed, directing her attention forward.  There in the distance were
the lights of several torches, ablaze to relieve the dark day.  The bay was not
empty after all.  Wren felt uneasy, thinking of how badly they might be
outnumbered by pirates.

“What
do you suggest?” she asked, hoping that his answer would be to avoid the
pirates at all cost.

“We’ve
come this far,” he said.  That was all.

Wren
looked up, staring at him until he couldn’t ignore her any longer and was
forced to gaze back.  He wanted to take her past danger once again, even though
he knew she was weak?  She tried to read his face, but could see no sinister
intention.  Perhaps it was not a perfectly honest face – certainly a
hard-to-read face – but she needed to be able to trust him.  He was the only
hope she had.

Finally,
Wren gave a short nod, allowing him to lead her on toward certain peril.

2

In
the midst of the pirate camp, tied to the post of a gallows, there was a lone
captive.  The girl’s face was wet with saliva and rum, her brown skin spread
with bruises.  Her dark hair was a mess of tangles; grimy with sweat, blood,
and another fluid she would rather not think about.  Her body was sore, but
nothing felt worse than her legs and the sanctum therein.  There was nothing
divine about it now.

She
rested on the ground with the ropes cutting into her wrists, in ruin; a former
princess of her people, shamed.  She had been beaten and violated by more faces
than she could count, but through it all, she was not conquered.

All
Calico could think of was escaping her captors and giving back to them as they had
given to her – with
death
.

She
was perhaps the only one that remained alert and untainted by liquor in the
whole of the settlement at Bleed Neck Bay.  These were nothing but castaways –
pirates that had been abandoned by their ships, left for the nightmare monsters
to feast on as the others had retreated to the sea years ago.  Pathetic as they
were, they had still managed to catch her.  Calico did not know how she had let
it happen, but here she was, and she had been tied here for more than a day
with nothing to eat or drink except the rum that was spit onto her face.  Her
purpose in coming here was not to be captured by the likes of these wretched,
aimless men.  She would free herself somehow.  And then…

The
morning was still quiet, though a few of her captors had begun to stir. 
Doubtless, they would immediately turn to their drinking – they would suck it
down until it was gone and then they would go mad with the heat.

Sitting
there, Calico began to carefully shift in her bonds, searching for weakness. 
If any time might have been perfect for making her escape, this was it, but she
had only just begun her effort when she heard shuffling footsteps behind her.

A
pirate smelling of week-old stink with wobbly legs and shifty eyes leaned down
over her where she sat, but she did not acknowledge him.  Her mind was busy
with more important things.  When she did not look up, he spit out tobacco
juice across her neck where it ran into her open shirt.

“Ye
know,” he started, kneeling down before her and nearly falling straight over
onto his ass, “I’m sure we’d be –erm –
nicer
to ye if ye was ta tell us
about that d-ss-irty, wretched Rifter.  I bet ye know where he is, don’ ye,
darlin’?  I bet ye’r jus another o’ his whores!”

The
pirate grinned proudly to himself, refusing to see that she was not amused. 
She made no response, even though she understood his butchered English, and the
scalawag before her eventually lost his humor.

“Mouff
like a steel trap, eh?  Fine then.  Keeps it to yersef.  An’ er we ta believe
all thet shite about him corruptin’ this place?  Bah!  I ain’t ne’er been
better, meself!”

Calico
shut out the man’s boisterous proclamations.  She turned her face from him to
move from the range of his putrid breath.  As she did, she was certain that she
saw some movement off in the trees.  It was not the hindered, drunken movements
of a buccaneer, but a swift movement of withdrawal from sight.  Someone was
there?  Someone who could see to her rescue?  Her dark eyes came alive.

Behind
her back, her hands began to struggle within the ropes.  Whether the lurker in
the trees was here for her or only to stir up trouble with the pirates, she
knew her moment of escape was nigh, and she would take advantage of it.

3

Wren
may have heard the others speak of the bay in detail before; she couldn’t quite
recall.  Perhaps she’d never had a proper image formed in her mind, but as she
and Nix approached, she could see the pirate settlement begin to take shape.