Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (13 page)

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Nix
led the way as the woods crackled around them, golden as autumn with flickering
orange hues.  They were silent as they walked, and Wren wondered where he was
taking her, but more importantly, whether it was safe to trust him.  Maybe he
was dangerous; or maybe he would not harm her for even a mound of pirate gold. 
She didn’t know.  Despite whatever doubts she might have had, she told herself
that she must not be timid.

“What
of those wisps,” she asked just so there would be something between them. 
“They didn’t seem to be causing trouble.  Were they bothering you?”

“I
get rid of them when I can.  They’re a hazard,” Nix insisted quickly, trudging
onward. “The only good they can do for me is with their ashes.”

Wren
remembered the ash.  She had first seen it when Nix himself had presented it to
her years ago.  It was a magical substance that could replicate the effects of
a fairy blessing – without having to deal with a disagreeable fairy.  But to
kill them in cold blood as he had…

They
were living creatures
,
Wren thought. 
Did they deserve to die?

“What
do you use all the ashes for?” she asked instead.

“For
whatever I need,” he responded, “but most often to coat my weapons.  It makes
up for lost accuracy.”

Wren
guessed he was talking about his lost eye.  There were more words on her lips
concerning the matter, but she managed to swallow them.  She did not need to
turn him against her so soon.

Rifter
is counting on me.

Nix
led her to a rocky cliff-side that had been scorched by the heat, and set in it
was the opening of a cave.  He did not hesitate to go inside.

As
soon as Wren had entered behind him, she could feel the air change.  It was
cool within the cave and the smell of smoke was scarce.  The walls were lined
with what looked like ivy, but she couldn't tell for the darkness.

As
they descended, Wren began to think that she remembered this place.  She had
been down this tunnel before years ago – one of so many that had led to the Wolf
Pack’s den.  It was strange to her that Nix had always been the wayward
brother, and yet after everything had fallen apart, he had been the only one to
return home.

“You
still live in the underground,” she stated, surprised.

“I
like to stay hidden,” he said, “and where’s the last place anyone would look?”

Though
it seemed very sad to hear him say it, she had thought the same thing when
coming into the burning woods.  Years ago, the Scourge had flushed them out
with fire, separating them from the place they had hidden for years.  The den
had been ruined and was no longer a secret in the sacred forest.  Why would
they have stayed?  To anyone who might have been hunting him, it would make no
sense.

 It
was possible that none of them could sleep if they weren’t holed up under the
ground, since it was how they had done it for so long.  Changing sleeping
arrangements was hard.  When she had first returned to the orphanage from this
place, she hadn’t been able to sleep either.

I
haven’t slept well since.

After
a long journey down, the narrow path opened up to reveal the large room that
had once been common to her.  A lantern illuminated a part of the area, the
overlapping shadows like forest foliage.  The flickering light within and the
curvature of the walls made her dizzy.

Wren
could see that the stone hearth in the wall was still intact, but the room was
devoid of the liveliness it once had.  Animal and creature heads hung from the
walls, their faces twisted in a disturbing manner.  These were relics of a
forgotten time.

Being
in this familiar setting made her feel hopelessly nostalgic and sorrowful.  Her
eyes swept over the space, noting the spot where she had once prepared meals
for them. She recognized Whisper’s grotto in the wall, the place on the floor
where Finn had often fallen asleep, and the alcove higher up where Sly used to
perch with his books.

All
of that is over now.

She
wasn’t aware that Nix was watching her until her eyes happened to land on him
as she was gazing across the room.  He was looking at the cut on her arm, which
throbbed dully.

“You
should clean that up,” he said offhandedly, and opened up his satchel to
withdraw a cloth, which he dipped in a bowl of water before handing it to her.

She
tried not to look in his eyes as she took it from him, but she couldn’t quite
help it.

“Thank
you,” she muttered, dabbing at the cut with the cool cloth.  The wound was
sore, but this gave her a bit of relief.  She knew that it needed to be
cleaned.

“This
place seems so empty,” she commented.  “But I guess, after everything, I’m
surprised it’s still here.”

“It
wasn’t all destroyed in the fire,” he said, taking off the layers of his
weapons.  “In fact, we returned here for a while after you were gone.  We were
able to salvage a lot of our equipment, and most of our belongings survived.”

“What
happened in those days, Nix?” she asked.

He
sighed, wouldn’t look at her.

“What
did Rifter tell you?” he asked, kneeling to arrange some sticks in the hearth,
preparing for a fire.

“He
didn’t give me too many details,” she admitted, thinking back on it.  “In the
beginning, he told me that you all separated because it was too dangerous for
you to stay together.  He didn’t mention the demon.  I don’t think he would
have told me about it except that he had to.”

She
heard a loud snap as Nix broke one of the twigs, hesitating a moment before he
put the pieces in place.

“That
surprises me too,” he said, but wouldn’t elaborate.

When
a fire was lit in the hearth, venting through a hole near the roof of the cave,
Nix sat down in a crudely-made chair.  He took a pipe from within his coat, lit
it, and then leaned back to look at Wren.  She remembered him having this habit
in the past, and she’d always found it inappropriate for a boy, but she said
nothing against it now as a cloud of smoke drifted from his mouth and into the
air.

“Sit,”
he said, referring to a hammock that was strung up between two corners, likely
his own bed.

Wren
did as he bade, thoroughly grateful for the opportunity instead of standing
around looking awkward.  She seated herself carefully on the edge of the tiger
skin, trying not to sink back into it.

For
a long time, Nix stared at her.  She looked back at him with equal interest,
but though she greatly desired to ask him questions, his sharp eye kept her
from it.  She could tell he was thinking deeply by the way that he smoked, and
if she had to guess, she would say that he was pondering her very existence. 
Wren did not dare to interrupt, concentrating on the curling tattoos on his
arms and neck.  She wondered if they were Tribal in design.

After
a while, Nix was ready to engage her in conversation.

“Rifter
brought you here, did he?”  Nix pondered a moment.  “So he’s still alive…”

Wren
looked up at that.  “You thought he was dead?”

“I
told you he was gone,” he reminded her.  “As good as dead, I guess.  I haven't
spoken to him in a long time.  Nearly two years.”

“That
long?”  Wren did not know why she was surprised, but she was.  The boys had
fled earlier than Rifter had led her to believe.

“Yes,”
he said distractedly.  “I assumed he would have told you how it all happened,
especially since he confessed about the demon.”

“He
didn’t,” she said, leading on, hoping that Nix would speak further on the
plot.  He did not go on as well as she’d hoped.

“I
was the first to leave when the time came,” he admitted to her, then his
conversation seemed to drift away.  “Yes, there were so many unanswered
questions.”

He
stopped there, and Wren leaned forward a bit to urge him on.  “I have
unanswered questions myself.”

He
cut his eye at her, and she felt he had seen through her attempt to pry.

“We
all questioned whose fault it really was,” he said.

Whose
fault?
 
Wren sat back, aghast.  There was always rivalry between Rifter and Nix, but
Wren hadn’t wanted to believe that there was a question of loyalty, or that any
of them had ever doubted Rifter.  If Rifter had told them that the corruption
was caused by the Scourge, they would have believed him, wouldn’t they?

“You
are not sure if Rifter is innocent?” she asked, disappointed.  “But, he was
your brother – your friend and ally!  Yes, there is a demon within him, but he
swears he controls it.”

“Brother
or not,” Nix began dismissively, “he wasn’t himself anymore.  We had to leave. 
There was no choice.  He drove us away, despite what he says.  We tried to
stand by him but he was out of control.  He let us all down.  He
deserves
to be alone for all the trouble he caused.  All of it is his fault.  Anyone who
doesn’t believe it is a fool.”

His
sharp statement was pointed in her direction.  Wren took it to the chest.  She
wanted to be sympathetic to Nix, but she was feeling so much hostility on Rifter’s
behalf that she could not offer any such words.

“What
are your feelings about the Scourge then?  Could he not be just as guilty?” she
asked, jumping to Rifter’s defense.  “He killed the land just by steeping
across it, and from what I’ve seen, that is exactly what this world looks like
now.  It is black and dead.  How could it not be his doing?  Really, it is very
discouraging for you to have all these awful accusations against Rifter!”

“You
really want to believe in him, don’t you?” Nix asked after a pause.

“I
just can’t believe what you’re saying!”

“Maybe
I’m wrong then,” he said snidely with a vicious smirk.  “Maybe I made it all
up.  Maybe I wasn’t
there to see it
.  Then again, my perception is a bit
off these days.”  Nix pointed to his blind eye, but Wren ignored his spiteful
behavior.

“And
you are so certain that you’re right?” she accused.

Nix
sighed out a bit of smoke.  He was silent now, though in the past she was sure
that he would have exploded.  Perhaps time truly had changed him.  It was clear
to her then that he did not want to fight.

“It’s
all a game,” he started evenly.  “Whatever he has brought you back here for –
whatever he told you – is just some ploy.  The Scourge has made his mark and
the Rifter has been nothing but silent for years.  Why now?  Why has he decided
to reintroduce us to it?  Why
you
?”

Nix
sat in silence a moment, putting the curved pipe back into his mouth.  Wren
thought this over, feeling a nauseous rumble in her stomach.  All this talk was
making her feel sick.  Perhaps it was best to change the subject.

“What
do you know about the Scourge?”

“What
would I know?” he asked, seeming surprised by the inquiry.  “I live in
seclusion in the woods.”

She
kept her expression firm to show him that she did not withdraw her question. 
He saw that and relented.

“The
Scourge never came back, and that’s all I know.  I know nothing of the most
recent theories concerning the darkness,” he said to please her.  “Sly always
tried to keep up with the facts, though I couldn’t tell you where to find him
either.”

“Then
we must go look for him – and the others as well,” Wren insisted, rising up. 
He stood at her sudden action, rooting himself firmly in her path as if she would
dash past him.

“Just
where do you think you’re going?  We both know you can’t hope to do anything by
yourself.”

“At
least I’m willing to do something,” she sneered pointedly, “unlike some who
just want to hide.”

His
lip curled.  “What gives you the right to judge me?  I can choose whether or
not I want to be involved in this.”

She
had no argument for that.  Maybe he was right.

“As
for you, you might as well settle in,” he said.  “You’re not going anywhere
‘til morning.”

“You’re
coming with me,” she blurted as if she had the authority to command him.  She
wasn’t sure where her zeal had come from, but it widened his eyes.  He hummed
thoughtfully, observing her, and she was surprised to see him smile.

“You
always had a bit of spark in you when it counted,” he mused.

He
actually sounded impressed, and somehow, Wren thought she felt herself
blushing.  She shook it away.

“Still,
I’m not sure what to think about all this,” he went on.  “Am I to reunite with
my brothers after all this time?  They’d probably be content to forget about
me.”

“Rifter
brought me here to bring all of you back together,” she told him, and saw the
annoyance on his face when she brought it up again.  “It’s what I have to do.”

He
said nothing for a moment.  Wren was unsure about all of this.  She had bad
thoughts about Nix and what he had told her – his attitude.  Could she trust
him?  And why did everyone think Rifter was dead?