Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (29 page)

He
paused to spit on the deck, to which the Scourge laughed.  The dark man showed
no sign of fear like the captain before him.  He was not a man who knew what
fear
meant
.

“Am
I to entertain your questions?” he asked, stepping forward with a hiss.  “You
know all you need to know.”

“Why
is your face covered?” Nails pressed, his massive arms crossed before him.  A
few others raised their heads as if they might agree, but they said nothing.

“Do
you know what it’s like to go down into a pit of lava?” the Scourge returned,
his words as thick as the molten flow itself.  “Do you?  Your flesh begins to
melt away before you even hit that liquid fire.  The heat is so terrible that
you can feel it in your bones –
excruciating
– sure to have a man like
you squealing like a pig.  It was a divine way to die, but not without
consequences.”

Nails
stared into the burning eye, though seemed to just realize what he had dared to
do.  He was rattled, but perhaps not fully convinced.

“Then
again, if you’re so sure of yourself, you’re welcome to try your luck with me.”

The
Scourge drew one of the two swords on his belt, leading the rest of them to
lurch back in fear, but he turned it on its hilt, offering it to Nails.  The
ship rocked with a groan as the man took it, unsure of what else to do, but his
eyes shifted to his comrades, full of uncertainty.  The Scourge stepped back, holding
up his hands to offer the doubter a clear shot.

“Go
ahead then.  Do it if you’re so sure.  Stab me in my
black heart
.”

Nails
hesitated, a slight quake at his fingers that was undeniable, and the Scourge
grew impatient.

“You’d
best do it,” the Scourge threatened.  “As soon as that sword is back in my
hand, you’d best believe I’ll gut you like a fish–”

Without
needing more than that, Nails thrust the sword forward with all the strength in
his muscled arm and stabbed the dark man in the chest.

The
blade went through and burst from his back with a bit of resistance, piercing
skin, muscle and the beating organ itself.  Nails, perhaps, supposed that if he
was going to do the job, he should have it done right, but the entry did not
deliver what he might have thought.  Though the wound was deep and full, there
was no blood, surprising to them all, and a gasp wavered among them as they
realized the truth in its certainly.  They were not dealing with a mortal man..

Nails
released the sword wedged in the pirate lord’s chest, but the Scourge only
staggered back and did not go down.  The crew was silent, holding their breaths
as they watched to see what would become of the one who had claimed himself to be
the Scourge – an unthinkable nightmare in his own right, who might only be
killed by the Rifter.

From
within a ragged throat, they heard his wicked laughter.  He was amused, but
certainly not dead.

“
My
turn,” he declared.

In
an instant, the Scourge had thrust his hand forward with such force that his
fingers tore into the strong man’s gut, reaching in to take hold as easily as
parting a curtain.  Blood flooded from Nails’ mouth as he coughed, trying to
remain standing, but was unable.  The damage was done, and it was a sweet scene
to the conqueror.

The
Scourge watched the life fade from the man’s eyes – savoring it – before he
removed his hand from the flesh, slinging off a bit of the blood and gut that
dripped from his fingertips.  The corpse of the mighty sailor fell forward
across the planks, spilling blood in a large puddle that ran off the side of
the deck and into the water below.

“Anyone
else care to doubt me?” the Scourge asked.  He looked across them and once
again none would meet his gaze.

“Then
clean up this mess,” he ordered sharply and ripped the sword free from his own
chest, putting it back in its place at his side.  Done with them, he turned
toward the darkness of the cabin.

The
crew shuddered.  Death and murder often occurred and did not make them cringe,
but never did it make such an impact on them as when the Scourge was involved. 
His displays always left residue in their minds.  A few went for buckets and
mops disgustedly while others flinched as they pushed the bloody corpse into
the sea.

As
he trailed away from them, they heard the dark man laugh, a wicked sound that
rattled their bones.

2

“Tell
us a story, Wren.  I can’t sleep.”

“Very
well then.  I’ll tell you about a world hidden beyond the sea of dreams, where
everything you can imagine is real – every fantastic landscape, every
adventure.  A group of boys lives there, led by the most fearless of all – a
boy known as the Rifter.  He leads them to defend the world of Nevermor from
the nightmares that wash ashore.  He wears a coat of leaves, his sword is
infused with magical power, and he can fly!”

“I
want to fly too.”

Wren
awoke slowly in the dark, touching her head to mind a throbbing pain there. 
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious, but she remembered the fall. 
She was convinced that the Tikilin suit was the only thing that had saved her. 
It seemed she had gotten it at just the right time.

What
happened?

She
remembered running – sprinting quickly across dry ground.  Finn was holding her
hand, hurrying her along.  Nix was behind her.  She had worried about him
then.  She had wanted him in sight so that she would know what to do.  Because
she had tried to look behind her, she had not seen the open hole in the ground,
just as Finn had not.  He’d run straight into it, and she’d been unable to
deliver him.

They’d
fallen.  Deep, deep…

Now,
her eyes were disturbed by dust.  The underground was silent and hollow, but
she was not as unlucky as she might have suspected.  She did not find herself
in darkness, but there was
light
.

Lifting
her head, she saw that there was a lantern nearby, and she found herself in a
tiny alcove.  Faint red crystals reached down toward her, helping to illuminate
the space.  She was dirty from the tunnels, her gown yellowed by dust, but she
was lying on a mattress of some sort, which appeared clean.

What
on earth?
 
She was baffled, but she knew the answer to this.

There
were wooden boxes and pots setting about, but nothing by the way of real
furniture.  It was clear though: someone – or something – lived here.

Within
her chest, her heart began to thud.  She had not fallen into this alcove by
chance, directly onto this bedding.  She had been
brought
here after she
had fallen, but by who or what, she could not know.

Wren
sat up, trying to think of what to do.  Whoever had brought her here had not
harmed her in any way that she could tell, yet she was frightened.  She needed
Rifter.  If he had been around, none of this would have happened!

Calm
down and think
,
she urged herself. 
Where are the others?

Three
others had been with her.  They did not, however, seem to be nearby now.  What
had become of them?

She’d
just wrapped herself up in her own arms when she noticed a dark shadow, looming
in the entrance of the alcove.  A sharp gasp filled her throat as she looked at
the featureless thing.

It
was gigantic!  Seven feet tall at least, with shaggy hair hanging all over its
body.  The thing looked human, but at the same time, it did not – like Finn in
his animal disguise.

You
need to be braver, Wren.
  Nix had told her these words just earlier, and
though she had gotten angry with him afterward, he was right.  Past her
trembling, she managed to gather words.

“I
fell into the tunnels,” she began lamely.  “I was separated from my friends. 
Have you seen them?”

There
was no reply.  No movement at all.

“Please,”
she tried again, “if there is some way you can help me get back there–”

“This
is your home now,” a heavy voice said, cutting her off.

Her
eyes widened.  The large shape lingered for only a moment before backing out of
the passage, and just afterward, Wren heard a rumbling sound as a large rock
began to slide across the opening.  She jumped up immediately, realizing that
she was being sealed in.

“Wait! 
No, you don’t understand!”  She did not make it to the doorway before it was
closed off.  Nevertheless, she continued to yell even though she was uncertain
if he could hear her.

“I
have to get out of here!  I have to get to Rifter!  Please!”

Silence
surrounded Wren in the stone tomb.  She pushed against the rock, but had no
hope of moving it.  Predictably, it stayed in place.  She saw a small slit
where the rock did not quite seal the way, but it only seemed big enough to let
in air.

Wren
stumbled back.  She gripped her hair in desperation.

“
Nix
!”
she screamed at a shrill pitch, letting her voice carry out until there was no
breath left.  There was no reply save for her own echo, and as she stood there
stock-still and helpless, she was not surprised.

3

Nix
thought he’d heard Wren scream his name, but it was only once, and after he had
opened his eyes, he didn’t know whether it was real or simply a dream.

The
air was filled with dust.  He breathed the particles in because he had no
choice.  Weakly, he managed to peel himself off the ground.  It was dark, but
his eyes adjusted eventually to the dim, fiery light of some crystal
formations.  Looking up, he could just barely see the hole above which let the
dark day in.  It was quite a distance back to the surface.  Even with the Tikilin
enhancements, he didn’t think it was possible to jump that distance.  This
would have been a nice time to use those fairy ashes – if only he’d thought
about it
before
all the chaos had begun above ground.  Unfortunately
that dust was in Wren’s possession, and–

Wren…

He
looked around in the tunnel, but did not see her. 
Dammit!
  Where was
she?  A coughing sound nearby caught his attention – but the survivor nearby
was not the girl he sought.

 “This
was a questionable idea,” drifted a snide reminder from Calico.  She stood and
favored her shoulder, but did not meet his gaze.

Nix
did not reply to her, swinging the bag off his shoulder and beginning to dig
through it.  His belongings were still intact, and he was at least glad to see
that.  To his blind side, he heard sounds of more movement.

Finn. 
Only Finn.

“Well
that was a fun time,” Finn muttered, brushing himself off.

“What
do you see?” Nix asked, knowing that his brother had a knack for seeing in the
dark.

“I
see
you,
fumbling with a pair of flint stones and a torch.  Calico is
there, waiting, but not too patiently.  Other than that, I see a lot of
nothing, mate,” he said simply, standing to look around.  “The tunnels just go
on and on.”

Nix
surprised even himself when he laughed slightly, busily creating a few sparks
within his hands.

“This
isn’t the time to be laughing, you know,” Calico reminded him. “Nothing’s
funny.”

“Calm
down and keep your trap shut,” he scolded her.  “Complaining won’t help.”

Nix
knew that Calico would sooner have taken a swipe at him than to argue, but
there were times when she could not keep the many words she knew tucked away
inside her mouth.

“And
how do you propose I should
calm down
?” she asked.  “We’re underground
in the dark and we can’t even
think
about getting out until we find the
girl!  I’m sure you noticed that she’s not here!  How can you laugh?”

 “Don’t
forget that you may not be alive now if it weren’t for me,” Nix informed her,
hitting the flint together harshly.  Finally a spark jumped out to light the
wrapped end of the torch.

“What
does that have to do anything?”

“You
hesitated,” he said, ignoring her and going on.  “I told you to run.  You
stopped!”

“I
was just
concerned
,” she defended, “concerned that you were going to do
something stupid, you arrogant bastard!”

Nix
didn’t respond to that, deciding that the best way to stop this was to simply
keep silent.  He tried not to look at Calico, yet couldn’t help but see her
from the corner of his eye, standing there, eyes narrowed in anger, clenching
her fists at her sides.

“You’re
acting just like
he
did,” she muttered.

Nix’s
head shot up at that.  Perhaps she had not meant for him to hear.  He had been
prepared to let it go, but these words stung his ears.

“What?”
he asked abruptly, jerking around to face her.