Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (36 page)

“What
do you mean by all this, Nix?” she demanded, turning heatedly.  “I’ll have to
choose you over Rifter?  I’ll have to decide to turn against him on my own? 
Then you’ll tell me what you think?”

He
was silent a moment, looking back to her with sincerity.

“In
a way,” he said. “Yes.”

Wren
shook her head.  “That won’t happen,” she said firmly. “I can’t turn from
Rifter without understanding the whole story.  I have to go meet him with the
others and hear what he has to say.”

She
wrapped her arms around herself and looked down, disappointed that he wasn’t
going to come around.  He would leave and she would feel awful about it, unsure
why, but then she’d see Rifter, and yes, things would be better, but she
refused to believe that she wouldn’t care about the rest of them when she saw
him again.

She
raised her head, intending to ask him for a few moments’ peace, but something
very different came out.

“I
should never have left,” she said in a rush of breath.  “I did it for Maxwell,
but if I’d only stayed in Nevermor, Rifter would never have forgotten about me
and perhaps this never would have happened.”

Nix
didn’t say anything, maybe sensing that she was not done, and to her own
surprise, she found she was not.

“Those
children wouldn’t have died, and perhaps the demon wouldn’t have ever made
contact with Rifter!  And even before that, the world was going along in an
endless cycle, and I disrupted it!  I insisted that Rifter know the truth. 
Everything comes back to
me
!  This is my fault in its entirety!”

“You
can’t put this on yourself,” Nix was quick to say.  “It’s not your fault.”

“It
is,” she insisted, seeing clearly for the first time.  Nothing he said could
have changed her mind.  “Nothing has gone right since then.”

“What
do you mean?”

She
had avoided speaking of the last few years, even to Rifter, but now it was all
flowing out of her, gaining momentum, and she could not stop it.

“I
let Max go to be adopted, and I wondered for a long time whether or not that
was the best choice.  Well, I know it was the
right
one, but still, I
felt sadness over it for a long time.  I still do, but I tried to console
myself with the idea that Rifter was going to come back.  I’d be able to forget
the pain.  When he didn’t, I stayed at Miss Nora’s Home, and she found me a
job, cooking for a well-to-do family across the city.  But even that fell
through on the night that Whisper came back.  I spent the last two years in an
asylum.”

He
didn’t respond, and when she glanced at him, she could tell by the look on his
face that he was lost.

“It’s
a sort of mix between hospital and penitentiary for mad people.  They thought I
was a murderess – that I had killed those children at Miss Nora’s – and when I
told them it was a fairy that had done it, they locked me away.”

Her
words crumbled to silence.  Perhaps now was his chance to speak, but he
hesitated.  The echo of her own words was hanging in the air.

“I
guess I’d always thought you’d found some way to salvage your old life and be
happy without this place,” he said finally.

She
looked up in surprise.  “You thought about me?”

He
didn’t want to admit it.  He shrugged and looked away, but the sentiment
touched her.  She opened her mouth to tell him so, when her eyes fell on
something behind him on the cave wall – something she hadn’t noticed before.

Wren
narrowed her eyes, unsure, but she stepped forward, forgetting about Nix,
moving toward the crooked slab of rock, upon which words were written.

She
had seen this wall before, but it had slipped from her memory.  It had once been
in a different place.  The boys had shown it to her in the ice caves of the
tundra – a secret kept from Rifter, but a respected monument to them.  On this
wall, they had recorded the names of the fallen, every former member of the Wolf
Pack that had died in this world.

The
changes to the island had brought it here, but Wren moved toward it now,
entranced.  Though she had seen it before, most of those names meant very
little to her.  In fact, only one brought back a memory.

FANG.
  The name was
etched near the top where it was meant to be, along with others who had
received the highest honor – they had been killed by the Scourge.

“Henry…”
she uttered, tracing the name with her finger, feeling the wavering dips in the
groove.

Behind
her, Nix did not move.  He had been there that day, hadn’t he?  They all had
been.  They had been on the ship.  Henry had threatened the Scourge, trying to
defend her…

That
was as much as she could remember about when it happened.  She couldn’t recall
that moment – that one, horrible moment.

“I
don’t remember how he died,” she said sadly.

“Best
that you don’t,” Nix responded, his voice soft.  That was all he offered.

If
Wren had tried hard enough, she could have blamed every single thing on herself,
even back to the start of it all.  Her dreams had been what had brought them to
Nevermor in the first place.

She
knew that not everything about this world had been terrible back then, but for
now, she could only focus on her regrets.

“I
never meant for any of this to happen,” she said, her voice veering on the edge
of a sob.  “I only wanted to be with my brothers, and now I don’t have either
of them!”

Wren
had nearly lost herself to this sorrow, her knees weak, when she felt a touch
on her shoulder.  She turned as strong arms enveloped her, pulling her close,
and her sobs caught in her throat at the mere shock of it.  Nix had embraced
her!  He who had once been disgusted by her mere presence had found a soft spot
inside for her sorrow.  And the most unusual thing was that she felt perfectly
comfortable in it.

 
She closed her eyes and let her face rest against his neck as she cried,
clinging to him as she had her last shreds of sanity.  He stroked her hair
gently without saying a word, and she found herself hoping that he would not
let her go.

Wren
held onto him until her sobs began to quiet and the haze around her mind began
to clear.  By then, she was keenly aware of him – of how solid and warm he was.

This
isn’t right…

“Wren,”
he started, but she had become too overwhelmed by the guilt of how she’d been
clinging to him, and she did not let him finish – would perhaps never know what
he’d been planning to say.

Before
she could rethink it, she had pushed away from him.

“I’m
sorry.  I lost myself.  I shouldn’t…” she stammered.  “Just because Rifter’s
not here–”

“Rifter?”
he questioned.  In an instant, his face had changed.  His eyes narrowed and
there was a sharp edge to his voice. 

Wren
was suddenly hit by a barrage of realizations – of every time she’d gotten just
a little closer to him – and understood that she was wrong for it, but at the
same time, she couldn’t deny that she’d sought his approval or that she had
wanted to be near him.  The embrace was just the next step – the absent proof
that he would reciprocate those feelings.

She
wanted to backtrack, but she didn’t quite know how.  She wasn’t able to stop
him with words or actions before he had shaken his head at her in disbelief and
walked away, leaving her only to look after him, abashed and guilty.

3

Toss
had not quite meant to eavesdrop – it wasn’t in his nature to intrude – and it
had only been by chance that he had been down by the water, observing the
fallen nightmare creature when he’d heard the voices.  While he knew he should
not have been listening, he could not keep his curiosity contained.

Wren
and Nix had been having a disagreement that echoed through the cavern, and he’d
been concerned.  He’d followed them into the tunnel – had seen what had
transpired.  Now Nix was coming back alone, and Toss knew what he must do.

His
loyalty to his leader demanded it.

Nix
looked perturbed, hesitating in step when he saw his brother there.  They
observed each other a moment, and while Nix might have liked to pass by without
speaking, Toss kept in his path.

“You’re
up late,” Nix commented, raising a wary eye.

“I’m
often awake at night,” Toss said, conversationally.  “Don’t have much reason to
keep up with the sun.  How about you?”

“I
was just going to bed,” Nix said firmly.  He picked up his feet to walk on, and
though Toss did not step forward to hinder him physically, his voice stopped
his brother’s advance.

“Is
Wren back there?”

“She’ll
come along when she’s ready,” Nix said swiftly, aiming once again to walk past.

“I
know what you’ve got on your mind,” Toss said boldly, believing that his
brother wouldn’t latch onto it unless he said it outright.  Toss had never been
one for confrontation, but he had stood up to Nix before – often concerning
Wren – and he was equally fearless toward it now.

Nix
looked up at him with confusion in his eye, which was quickly followed by
contempt.

“I
overheard you talking,” Toss confessed.  “You’re starting to have feelings for
her.”

“You
were listening to our conversation?”  This angered Nix even more than the
accusation – or at least seemed to.  Toss wondered if he was putting on a
front, turning to violence to mask his true feelings.

“It’s
more than that,” Toss assured him.  “I’ve seen the way you look at her.  It’s
wrong of you to try to sway her.  She was with Rifter first.”

Nix
seemed shocked.  His stare was hard for a moment, and then the corners of his
mouth turned up in an amused smile.

“I’m
surprised.  I see that not only have you grown a few feet, but you’ve grown a
pair
as well.”

“I’m
serious, Nix,” Toss warned.  “It’s obvious that she still wants to be with
Rifter.  She’s doing all of this for him.”

“Are
you
jealous
, Toss?” Nix asked haughtily.  “Don’t like the idea that she
might pick me over you?”

“I
would never do that to Rifter out of simple respect, and you shouldn’t either!”

“If
I decide I want to have
feelings
for her, that’s my business, not
yours!” Nix yelled, getting agitated now – bringing out a fury that seemed too
familiar.

They
stared at each other for several moments, two brothers who had perhaps never
seen reason to fight before, now to the point of anger over accusations that
could not be proven.  Toss, however, remained serious concerning the matter.

“I’m
telling you: don’t do this, Nix.  You’re asking for trouble.”

Nix
looked as though he might have liked to say many things in his own defense, or
maybe take a swing, but Toss was surprised when he kept himself composed.

“Do
me a favor, Toss,” Nix said instead – calm as death.  “Don’t give me any more
advice.”

Nix
brushed past him, jolting Toss’ shoulder with his own as he went by.  Toss did
not say anything else.  Perhaps he had not gotten through, but he felt he had
done his duty.  He’d given the warning, and for now that was all he would do to
enforce it.  He only hoped it sank in enough to prevent a repeat of Nix and
Rifter’s unfortunate past.

And
over all things, over a girl.

1

Mach
opened the cavern lights early the next day, letting in the faint sunlight of a
dreary morning.  Wren had finally gone back to the tent she’d shared with
Calico after being up half the night, first having talked to Nix and then
worrying over him.  She had not been asleep the next morning when the others
had begun to stir.

When
she stepped out, she saw that the rest were already about, gathering tools and
materials into satchels, preparing to go to work on whatever Mach had planned
for them so that they could cross the canyon.  She wondered briefly why no one
had come after her, but decided now to simply pick up and help with what she
could.

She
hadn’t gotten far beyond the flap before a low voice touched her ears, calling
for her.

“
Wren
!”

She
turned to see Finn standing behind her – closer than she’d expected – and he
hastily pulled her back behind the shelter.

“What
are you doing out of bed?” she gasped.  “You need to rest!”

“I’m
fine,” he promised. “Sore, but alright.”

She
remembered how badly his wounds had looked yesterday, and she did not believe
him.  She thought he was downplaying his injuries for the sake of the group,
but he had quickly turned her away from the thought of that.

“I
need to talk to you.”

“What
is it?” she asked in concern.  She could tell by the look in his eyes that it
was a serious matter.  He had always been the confessor among them.