Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (38 page)

“Now,
if you don’t mind, I have some charges to rig.”

Mach
walked away from her, leaving her stunned and uncertain in the daylight as he
moved back into the cave.  Perhaps their conversation had not broken through to
him, but it had left her with thoughts she hadn’t pondered before.

She
had never leant much thought to revenge, but now, reimagining that night the
storm had been brewing over her head, it was all she could think about.

3

And
so, they worked.  They placed large barrels of gunpowder in precise spots and
braided fuses together.  Mach had everything planned, and Finn confirmed the
calculations.  He believed it would work and that built up Wren’s faith as
well.

They
worked through the day, until the sun began to duck down behind the jagged
silhouette of the mountains.  After Mach had checked over everything at least
three times, he decided that all was ready.

“I
hope this works,” Nix said under his breath.  Wren was silently hoping the same
thing.

Mach
lit the fuses and they moved out onto the ledge where they’d first emerged that
morning – where Mach was certain that the bridge would fall, and finally a
resounding boom shook the mountainside.

Wren
felt the vibrations beneath her feet but she did not believe she was in danger
where she stood.  Above them, she could hear the rocks breaking apart, and the
remaining daylight was blocked out by large shadows as the slabs fell.

She
remembered something from years ago – a scene misplaced but not forgotten. 
Rifter and the Scourge were fighting.  There were boulders falling from the
sky…

Nix’s
hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back a bit, and the great rocks fell
before them.  It happened so quickly that she was barely able to follow it. 
The large slabs of stone fell precisely, wedging against each other, and just
as Mach had predicted, there was a bridge of rock before them when the dust
settled, steady and straight.

“Ha-ha!”
Mach shouted.  “It worked!”

Finn
and Toss were impressed, howling with pleasure, but Nix only seemed amazed.

“I
can’t
believe
that it worked,” he muttered.  Calico seemed to agree, but
she had been quiet all day.  Wren guessed that the weight of her vision could
be blamed for that.

Wren
was not sure how Mach had managed to come up with such a plan, but she could
not let those complicated thoughts take away her gladness that it had been as
easy as they’d hoped.  Perhaps it was not so unbelievable if the world accepted
the change.  The work had been a strain, but in the end, the finished product
was truly a work of genius. 

“Alright
then,” Finn said.  “Who wants to go first?”

At
that, none of them were quite eager to volunteer. 

“We’d
best hurry,” Calico piped up seriously.  “The explosion was no mere toppling of
stones.  Curious monsters might come to observe it soon.”

Wren
hadn’t considered that, and she guessed the others hadn’t either, for they
quickly came to life.

After
a close inspection, Mach was confident enough that he agreed to lead the way,
and the rest followed onto the narrow passage.  Despite a bit of vertigo, Wren
found that the bridge was as sturdy as promised, and all went across one after
the other until they had come to the other side.

On
the further side of the dark-stoned canyon, she looked down the incline until
her eyes ran across the flat, grassy land beyond.  Wren suddenly thought of Vorks,
her heart taking up a quicker pace, but then swiftly recalled that Finn had
said no Vorks dwelled here.

The
plains.

Wren
was happy to have reached this place.  Already, things seemed much calmer, as
if their journey was finally coming to a close, but she knew that meeting with
Rifter again was only the beginning.  She looked over the long stretch of land,
squinting her eyes to gaze toward the horizon, certain that she saw a small
cluster there.  Calico’s settlement?  How far was it?  Five miles?  Twenty? 
Suddenly, not even that was very far.

As
she stood there, she realized that her pattern of thought had changed just a
bit since she’d started out.  At this moment, her thought might have been ‘
I
will finally see Rifter again’
, but that was not what she longed for.  The
thought that came forth from the inner core of her mind was: ‘
Finally, I
will have the truth’
.

Her
companions moved past her, but Wren did not notice.  Toss and Finn spoke words
of thanks to Mach for his assistance, which Mach replied that they had helped
him just as much.

“Are
you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Finn asked him, and Wren turned aside
curiously at that.

Looking
at Finn and Toss, Mach seemed different than he had this morning when they’d
spoken alone.  Perhaps it was the day he’d spent with them all that had swayed
him, but his expression was no longer haughty.  Instead, it was a bit
sorrowful.

“I–”
Mach started, but hesitated.  “I don’t think so.  I don’t think there’s
anything for me out there.”

Wren
was sad to hear him say that, but she turned away.  It was not her
conversation, and if that was his choice, she had no business speaking toward
it.

I
tried, but I have to let him go his own way.

“Do
we have anything to fear from your people, Calico?” she heard Nix ask on her
other side.  “We haven’t always been on the best terms.”

“I
would imagine that they are expecting us,” the huntress responded, a slight
smile on her mouth.  Wren did not think she had seen Calico smile like that since
she’d been in their company.  “Come.  We should go.”

Calico
started off ahead of them, and though it might have been a pain for him to do
so, Nix looked over at Wren, meeting her eyes.

“Are
you ready?” he asked, casting his gaze back toward Mach briefly.  Not quite as
zealous as when she’d begun, Wren had nothing more to say about it.  The twin –
or whoever he claimed himself to be now – had made his choice.  He did not want
to meet with Rifter, and she had to accept that.

“Yes,
I’m ready,” she answered.

Wren
turned, setting her gaze to the horizon.  This was it.  Her last steps.

“Wren…”

Her
attention was called back to Mach, who was standing alone at the edge of the bridge
under the darkening sky.  He was fumbling with his bandana, twisting it between
his gloves.  At her approach, he removed the goggles from his eyes – but then
looked boldly into hers for several moments.

“I
lied to you,” he confessed, “but of course you already knew that.  And I’m
sorry for being an ass.”

She
didn’t say anything, and Mach smiled shortly – sorrowfully.  “Never allowed to
be an individual, and yet now I am one, but because of that I have been forgotten. 
You’re gathering the Pack, and I understand what that means.  Now that I’ve
told you the truth, I would guess that you’d ask me to come with you too.”

She
opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before she began.

“But
I can’t go with you, Wren.  I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

He
lowered his head.  She wanted to ask him why, but he clearly was not done
speaking.  There was one thing she was sure of: his refusal was perhaps nothing
to do with Rifter, but something to do with
Mech
.

“I
just wanted to ask you for something,” Mach went on.  “Don’t try to look for my
brother.”

That
was not the sort of request she’d expected.

“You
won’t find him, and if you do, you’ll regret it.  But if you do happen to come
across him, I’d like for you to give him a message from me.  It might help
you.”

“Alright,”
she nodded with interest, preparing herself to remember the message.

“If
you would, tell him I said to remember ‘
duality
’.”

Wren
stared at him a moment, thinking he might go on, but he did not.  She shook her
head in confusion.

“Duality?”
she asked.

“Yes,”
he said with a nod of his head.  “Remember duality.  Tell him that for me, if
you would.”

Slowly,
she began to nod.  “I will,” she promised, even though she did not understand
it. “If I meet him, I will.”

When
he said nothing else, she decided that their conversation was over.  She would
not beg him to come with them, for to do so would be futile, she knew.  He had
made this choice.  Wren turned away from him, passing down the slope to join
Nix who remained, waiting for her.  The others had already gone on in front of
them.

“And
good luck,” Mach called, “with that quest of yours.”

She
smiled at him over her shoulder but did not stop.  She sent a glance at Nix,
and without words, he started off with her, perpetually at her side, even
despite awkward encounters.

Yes
, she thought as
her feet moved briskly across the ground. 
It will not be long now.

3

Sitting
alone, the boy without eyes folded his hands.  He was seeing once again –
feeling
– but he never did stop, did he?  He could not stop feeling the island.  Within
himself, he felt
her
, and he hated to admit it, but her presence was
like a dark, ominous cloud that would bring a terrible storm.  She, however,
was not the only dark thing that he felt.

Everything
was jumbled now.  He could not see clearly.  It would not be easy anymore.  He
knew that all he could do was
wait
– wait and feel things out as he
went.

“She
is close now,” he said to himself.  “Soon, I will see.”

1

It
was fully dark by the time they reached the Tribal settlement in the plains,
but the light and warmth of a large bonfire welcomed them.  Tents and huts were
set up all around, covered in stained etchings, and the camp was filled with
many things that one would associate with a
thriving
settlement – not
one that struggled by the day to survive.  This place – it looked as it should
have looked.  The people with the dark skin and curious dress of fur and bone
were smiling and keeping company with one another, as if they were completely
unaware of the corruption in the other parts of the land.  This place was
untainted.  There was no darkness here.

It
was a strange thing that Wren had just happened to notice – she wasn’t sure
that anyone else had – but this area of ground was much grassier than the dying
land around it.  It was as if this specific patch of earth was sacred – set
apart.  How was it possible?  Could this one area actually be untouched?

When
Wren and her companions stepped foot onto that ground, there seemed to be some
sort of feast going on, and when Calico moved into the area, her people were
joyous – but not surprised – to see her.  She was met by several of them who put
their hands on her welcomingly, accepting her back, but she quickly began to
speak to them in a language Wren did not understand.

Wren
leaned closer to Finn.  “Do you know what they are saying?” she asked quietly.

“I’ve
ever been too good with their language, but I think she told them who we are
and that they should welcome us.  She then inquired as to the whereabouts of a
certain person.”

“Who?”

Wren
did not get her answer before several women of pleasant demeanor were ushering
them toward food, and there was not one among them who was going to deny himself
the feast.  They ate more than their fill and sat about lazily afterward, satisfied
and comfortably warm.  Around them, the people sang in low tones and danced
energetically, playing an array of flutes and drums.  Tribals of all ages were
talking and laughing with each other, enjoying the communion.  Wren watched all
this, trying to feel the cause for celebration, but she could not.  She had
expected to be cheerful and anxious upon reaching this point, but now that she was
here, all she felt was trepidation.  She dreaded nothing like the morrow.

Several
hours travel from here was the ruined Tribal camp, certainly not in the same
place it had once been because of how the land had rearranged itself, and after
they had assembled there, Rifter would meet them.  It was strange but she
dreaded
seeing him
most of all.  She wanted the truth, but she feared
the worst.  She feared that everything Rifter would tell them would be a lie. 
Whether or not he was truly at fault, he was going to
lie
.  The thought
made her sick inside her heart.

Suddenly,
Wren wondered why she had brought them – her friends – here.  If something terrible
happened on that cliff, perhaps not with Rifter, but something else, would she
be able to forgive herself for taking them into danger?

She
tried not to think of it, and yet she couldn’t afford not to.

“Are
you alright, Wren?”  The voice, muffled by food, belonged to Toss, who sat
beside her.  She looked up to his face, seeing the bit of food lingering in his
scrappy beard.