Nevermor (8 page)

Wren continued
on, building her story about the Rifter and a particular adventure of how he
battled a nightmare creature that often frightened the orphanage children: the
mythical crocodile that lived under their beds.  It seemed to move around from
one bed to the next, but it never actually left the dormitory as far as they
were concerned, but at the end of her story, Rifter had killed it good and
dead, and they did not have to worry about it anymore.

All of the
children seemed pleased and relieved that the crocodile was dead, and agreed to
this among themselves.  Wren wondered why she had never thought of such a thing
before.  A warrior who battles nightmares seemed like such a simple idea, but
perhaps she never would have thought of it if she hadn’t seen it in her dream.

“Rifter is very
brave,” Liam commented.  “The crocodile is a slippery fellow.”

“Yes,” Wren
confirmed.  “He is very brave.  He is a bit full of himself and he thinks that
he is always right, but no one could accuse him of being a coward.”

Wren wasn’t sure
that this was true, but she thought it might have been. 

“Is Rifter very
handsome?” Laura, who was six, asked.  “I think I should like to marry him.”

Wren thought
that was adorable, but within her heart she had also begun to feel fond of
Rifter because of her own story – but that seemed very ridiculous to her.  He
was not even real – just something she had dreamed up.

“Could we really
go to Nevermor?” Lewis asked.  “Could we run away there?”

Wren knew she
should not entertain these ideas.  She should tell them that it was all just a
story and that none of it was real, but yet she saw that glimmer in their eyes
– a sparkle of hope that she had not seen in a while – and she could not crush
them.

“Perhaps if you
are very good and brave children, then the Rifter will choose you to join him
there.” 

“I want to go to
Nevermor,” Max said, and all the others agreed.

Wren wasn’t sure
what she had done by this, but they all seemed very happy to hear it.  They had
forgotten their troubles and the storm outside, and they were peaceful now,
hoping for a new dream.  Wren felt guilty for telling them lies.

But what if it
was real?

Her mind kept
shifting back to that, and Wren understood that even though she knew better,
she
wanted
to believe in it just as they did.  Hadn’t she been hearing
the sound of that flute calling her for two nights already?  She had a vague
memory of flying over the sea, and then tonight she had finally found what she
had been seeking.  She couldn’t deny that it was one of the most brilliant
dreams she’d ever had, and if given the choice, she probably would have stayed
there in it forever.

Nevermor.
  It was
hovering in her mind like the thunderheads looming outside.  Inside herself,
Wren felt a sprig of new hope as she tried to keep the images of that place
with her.  She thought that maybe, if she held onto that, she might be able to
find her way back.

1

The next day,
Wren was no longer employed at the cotton mill.  Inside, she felt a little happier
for that, even if the image of blood was still fresh on her mind, but she did
not lack for things to do at the Home.  Nora had given her plenty of chores,
which included mending and scrubbing floors, sweeping and chopping vegetables,
but all the while, thoughts of the island had not left her. 

Her dream of
Nevermor had begun to fade so that she could not remember the tiny details,
like the way the wind had felt, only that she
had
felt it.  She
remembered the Rifter – his coat of leaves and his cocky expression – but she
wasn’t sure she could have painted his picture, if asked.  He was like a blur
at the corner of her vision, but when she tried to focus on him, he faded
away.  Had he been real?  Had any of it actually happened? 

The more she
thought about him, the more she believed.  The more she believed, the clearer
the images became.  She could see him in her mind’s eye, unkempt yellow hair
and blue eyes – could remember the way he had smiled at her.  The sand and the
water were not so far away anymore, as if she could close her eyes and go back
there.  This convinced her.  The Rifter was real and Nevermor existed.  She had
as much faith in that as she’d ever had in heaven.

Perhaps it was
her own story that had influenced her – merely foolish optimism – but Wren
believed that if she had seen Nevermor once, she could find it again.  She felt
excited, more awake than she had in a long time, yet she could think of nothing
but going to sleep so that she could dream.  It was as though she had found the
hidden solution to her troubles, but it had been in front of her face all
along.  She’d only had to open her mind a bit.

As the morning
passed on, she decided she could not keep the revelation to herself any
longer.  Wren was convinced that getting back to Nevermor was her one hope of
keeping together with her brothers, and she needed them to know it too.  She
decided to tell Henry.

Henry, though
still quite swollen from his beating, had been given a job of scrubbing the
large pots in the kitchen.  Wren hadn’t crossed him many times today, though it
wasn’t as if they weren’t allowed to speak.  Nora expected them to keep at
their chores, but she was currently in class with the younger children and was
therefore preoccupied.  Wren did not have trouble meeting privately with her
brother.

When she entered
the kitchen, Henry looked up from where he was hunched on the floor beside one
of the large pots, but he was not working.  He was leaned against the cabinet,
eating an apple he had stolen from the pantry.  Wren couldn’t blame him.  Nora
should have known better than to leave him unattended in the kitchen. 

He jerked up
with a start, but relaxed again when he saw that it was only her.

“What is it?”
Henry asked, not sounding so happy to see her.  “I’m not done yet and don’t
tell Miss Nora that I am, or she’ll put me to work at the chimney.”

“I have to tell
you something,” Wren said quietly, kneeling down next to him.  “Do you remember
the story I told last night?”

“Yes,” he said
cautiously, picking at a bit of apple peel to avoid looking at her.  “
Nevermore
or something?  Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?  To go there, we’ll
nevermore
have any troubles?  I don’t know where you come up with all these silly ideas.”

“I didn’t make
it up.  That’s what I came to tell you.  I really saw it.”

He looked at her
then, wearing the expression of a true skeptic.  One eyebrow was arched high
above the other, which looked a bit funny because of how his face was enflamed.

“What do you
mean?”

“I mean, before
the storm woke me up, I was
there
.  I saw it.  I met the Rifter.  He
called me there in my sleep; said I was a
dreamer
.  It was so
real
.”

Wren looked for
her brother’s reaction, and she could tell by the squint of his eyes that he
didn’t know what to believe.  She was sure that she sounded ridiculous, but yet
she felt desperate to convince him.  She needed his support.

“Henry, I think
I was there.  I think we could go there!”

“What?” he asked
carefully, no doubt wondering if she was trying to trick him for her own
amusement.  “You just told me yesterday that there was no sense in hoping for a
place like that – that all those stories you used to tell us weren’t true.”

“It’s different
this time.  I made all those other things up, but I really did see this.  I
just have to find a way to get back there in my sleep, and then I can ask
Rifter how we might really go there!”

Henry seemed
uncertain, and she couldn’t blame him for that.  It was a lot to swallow, but
there was no doubt in her mind anymore.  Everything was vivid: the sea, the
sky, the large moon.  It was too much like a memory to be false.

“Wren, you sound
like a mad person,” he told her, but she could tell that he wanted to believe
it. 

“Just say that
you believe me,” she urged, “and when you go to sleep tonight, you should
listen for the flute.  Maybe you will see it too.”

He continued to
look at her face until finally he nodded.  Wren accepted his faith.  As she
left the kitchen, she wondered if she had done the right thing by getting his
hopes up.  Now she had to try her very best to find her way back there.  If she
could not make this happen, her brother might never trust her again, but it was
too late.  If they could not go to Nevermor, she would lose them both anyway. 

2

Wren and Henry
did not speak of it again that day.  She did not even mention it to Max as she
put him to bed, but as she lay down on her own mattress, she closed her eyes
with purpose.  She had her focus.

I want to see it
again,
she prayed. 
If it was real, let me see it again.

She concentrated
on getting back to the sea of dreams, but of course her effort made it worse
and she could not sleep until she relaxed and simply let her mind drift where
it would.  Once she let go, she began to slip away, passing slowly through the
veil of dreams, unaware.

When Wren opened
her eyes, that strange orb of light that she had seen before was flittering
over her like a butterfly, making a fuss in a soft, unusual language.

It’s not just a
light.  I saw it on the beach.  I saw it at the window.
 

She remembered
that, but when she tried to see into the light to view the elusive creature
within, it darted away.

Wren sat up on
her elbows, finding that her feet were just beyond the reach of the tide that
was rolling in from the dark ocean.  The moon was large and full above her,
pulling in the waves.  She knew where she was this time, and smiled to herself,
knowing that she had once again arrived.

How could this
be a dream? 
She
rested there for a few moments, enjoying the rhythmic tossing of the water. 
She felt the fresh sea air on her face and she was content.  Yes, she felt that
she could call this place home.  It was easy to imagine Max running toward the
water and then rushing back so that the waves wouldn’t hit his feet, as Henry
rested against the sand, napping.  Wren closed her eyes and sighed contently.

When she looked
up to peer down the beach, someone was standing over her.

“Oh!” she shrieked,
instantly lurching back against the ground.  Beyond her own hand that she had
instinctually thrown up to shield herself, she was able to see the familiar
figure that stood near her.

It was Rifter,
giving her a hard stare.  Though he looked much the same as before, dressed in
the same manner, his sword was in his hand this time as he peered down at her. 
Didn’t he know her?  Couldn’t he remember that they’d met before?

Is he going to
kill me?
 
She wondered, but he’d told her before that he couldn’t hurt her because she
was only a dreamer.

He didn’t move
against her, but she watched him carefully.  The ball of light was drifting
over his head, but it did not come near Wren again, keeping a safe distance.

It’s a fairy.  I
know it must be.

She could tell that
Rifter looked surprised to see her, but she was relieved when he put his sword
away.  He held out his hand to help her up, and she accepted.

“You’re back,”
he said.  She could tell that he was baffled by her presence, but at least he
remembered her.  That was a start.  “You must be serious about this.”

“I—I am,” she
told him, but her voice was weak and she was aware of it.

Rifter stood
next to her, inches away, looking straight into her eyes with such seriousness
that she was cut to the quick.  She stared back at him, her heart pounding
within her, pondering the secret behind his harsh demeanor.  What did he expect
of her?

For the first
time, she felt underdressed in her gown.  She hadn’t given any thought to it
the first time, but now that he was standing so close, she was keenly aware of
how she was naked beneath it.

Rifter examined
her face, perhaps searching for her determination.  She wondered if he found
it.

“Come with me,”
he said finally, turning to lead her.

“I…”  She didn’t
know why she was hesitant.  Had she lost her resolve so quickly?  Maybe it was
her inappropriate dress that had thrown her off.

“No, come on.” 
He took hold of her hand and she felt her heart leap, though her mind didn’t
understand why.  Rifter pulled her closer, hooked his arm around her waist and,
before she knew it, he had picked her up like she was his bride.

“W—what are you
doing?” she demanded, squirming a bit, but she could not shake herself free. 
“Put me down!”

“You don’t want
that,” he assured her with an arrogant smirk.

Wren didn’t have
a chance to question him, though it was on the tip of her tongue when Rifter
shot into the air like he’d been fired out of a canon.  The world was flying
past her and her stomach was left behind as he took her high into the clouds above
the ocean.